... and Baby Makes Two Page 28

  By 3 A.M.,the baby showed signs of fatigue, while the adults showed signs of nervous collapse. They offered some familiar sights and sounds: Goodnight Moon and the Tibetan children chanting. Jane held her and rocked her until she could do the slo-mo, one-degree-per-minute descent into the crib. Her shoulders were burning with pain. Her arms were starting to shake. But it was all worth it. Beth slipped into her crib and slept.

  “Good job, Mommy. Now, let's both of us get some sleep,” Ray whispered.

  “Oh, I thought I'd unpack a little bit and—”

  “Sleep. Trust me.”

  …

  The next day, Jane heeded Barbara's advice and dragged her tired little family to a playdate. Beth, Ariel, and Grace got to hang out together while their mothers said things like, “This baby is kicking my ass.”

  “Tell me again why we did this?” Teresa asked. The three mothers and their daughters were in Teresa's living room. Ray scrambled around the room, trying to keep the babies away from all the glass.

  “We had too much time, too much sleep, too much money. Take your pick,” Jane answered.

  “You know what I figured out in China?” Karen ventured. “Besides the fact that I choose toxic men? Babies are a little bit—can I say this?—boring. It's so relentless.”

  “I know! It's all that repetition,” Teresa agreed. “It wears you down. I mean, it's not like they're great conversationalists. Yet.”

  “It's the sleep deprivation. Beth wakes up, oh, three or four times a night. I jump out of bed and I rock her, and she goes back to sleep, but oh, God. It takes me forever to fall back asleep. And then she's up again.”

  Ray called over, “This is how they torture political prisoners, you know. They make them crazy from lack of sleep.”

  Karen took the confession session a step forward.

  “I can't believe I'm going to say this out loud. I'm half looking forward to going back to work. That sounds awful, doesn't it?”

  “Yes, it does, and that's why you must only say it within the con- fines of my home and this playdate. I understand completely,” Teresa answered. “The hardest job on earth is easy compared to this. I've been working since I was seventeen, which was a long time ago, and it was all tea and scones compared to motherhood. I want to wear a nice watch again.”

  “So,” said Karen. “Peter? Have you heard from him today? I thought that was pretty bold—showing up at the airport like that.”

  “That was a gesture. So that he can look good when he tells the story later. He wanted a sort of ‘last word’ I think. I won't hear from him again. I'd bet her college fund on it. That reminds me. I need to start her college fund. Anyway, it's over. I'm sure of that. I think.”

  Ray agreed. “Good. You don't want to have to get over this guy twice, do you?”

  Karen agreed. “Break the cycle!”

  Teresa agreed. “Be strong. For yourself and for your daughter.”

  Beth said, “Abrrrrr! Agah!”

  Jane and her friends revisited the What Every Single Mother Needs list. They still endorsed every entry on the original list, but they expanded it just a bit:

  THE PERFECT APARTMENT. AT LAST, THEY DEFINED THIS FANTASY. THIS NOW CONSISTED OF: THREE BEDROOMS (THE EXTRA ONE WOULD BECOME A PLAYROOM OR A GUEST ROOM OR A MAID'S ROOM—EACH WOMAN HAD A DIFFERENT USE FOR IT), DOORMAN, ELEVATOR, LOTS OF SUN, TOO MANY CLOSETS, GOOD SCHOOLS WITHIN WALKING DISTANCE, GOOD PARKS WITHIN WALKING DISTANCE, WASHER/DRYER/DISHWASHER/NEW EVERYTHING, NO SHARP CORNERS ANYWHERE, AND HEAVILY SOUNDPROOFED WALLS AND SELF-CLEANING FLOORS. AT THIS, THE DEFINITION OF PERFECT WAS COMPLETE AND IMPOSSIBLE.

  LOTS OF POCKETS.

  A STRONG IMMUNE SYSTEM, AND A THICK SKIN.

  A VERY LIGHT AND SMALL VIDEO CAMERA.

  MEMBERSHIP AT THE ZOO.

  A CHEAP HAIRSTYLIST WHO WILL TAKE LAST-MINUTE APPOINTMENTS AND STILL MAKE YOU FEEL GORGEOUS.

  A MASSAGE THERAPIST WHO WILL TAKE LAST-MINUTE APPOINTMENTS AND STILL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER.

  AT LEAST TWO BACK-UP BABYSITTERS (ALTHOUGH NONE OF THEM HAD USED ANY BABYSITTERS JUST YET—THE THOUGHT OF LEAVING THE BABY ANYWHERE WITH ANYONE WAS ACTUALLY SHOCKING).

  TIVO.

  An enormous sense of humor.

  The best part about being so busy and tired today was: no time to moon over lost Peter. Peter who was gone and should stay gone. Peter whom she sent packing. Peter. Nope. Not thinking about him at all. And when the phone rang, she was absolutely not secretly hoping that it was Peter.

  “Janie? It's me. It's your old dad.”

  There was entirely too much to say to this man. Curses and blessings. In truth, she was surprised he called at all. She expected him to behave as Betty would have, stubborn to the end. Betty could hold a grudge. She could nurse it and keep it alive. And that was part of what killed her.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Look. I said a few things when you were leaving, and I know you didn't like to hear them.”

  “You were wrong. You were way out of line, Dad.”

  “I had to listen to my conscience. I had to. I hope you understand that.”

  “Not really.”

  “But this little girl is now a member of our family, and I want to welcome her and give my blessing, if you'll let me.”

  How did he manage that? He had changed. And that was so not-Irish. Jane was wrestling with her squirmy daughter while she squeezed the phone between her ear and shoulder.

  “She's a great little girl, Dad. I love her so much.”

  They talked about the trip to China. Jane whitewashed it a whole lot, and Howard sounded relieved that Jane accepted his olive branch. Jane was relieved that he offered it. It was late, and he was saying his good-byes and best wishes.

  “But, Dad. You haven't even asked her name yet.”

  “You're right, I haven't. What is it?”

  “Elizabeth. Beth. I call her Beth.”

  His voice held steady, almost.

  “That's lovely.”

  …

  Was this the longest day in history? Did the sun stop in the middle of the sky? And didn't Jane see that in an old movie? How was she supposed to survive the first day home if it was going to last 327hours? That was grossly unfair. She would just have to coax Beth into a nap. Beth seemed to think that this was a deeply flawed plan. No, no, no, no, zzzzzzzzz. Beth napped.

  As soon as Beth was asleep, Jane raced to the phone. She couldn't wait to tell Sheila about their father's change of heart. She picked up the phone and reenacted the entire conversation. Sheila was quiet and happy.

  “Sheila, you have to come to New York and meet her. She's amazing. She's beautiful. She knows how to hail a taxi. She puts her arm up and every cab in town stops for us.”

  “I'll come soon. I will. But I have to wait just a while. I don't feel well enough to fly right now”

  “What's the matter?”

  “Nothing's the matter. I'm pregnant. It's okay to tell you now”

  “Oh, Sheila!”

  Jane tried to stay on the phone and get every detail about the pregnancy, but there was urgent loud noise coming from downstairs, and it woke Beth, who responded with genteel screeching. This developed into full-blown bellowing, and Jane was right by her side.

  “Beth? What's the matter? It's just a big noisy noise. You don't need to be scared.”

  Beth didn't look like she was buying that. She looked very upset about the noisy noise.

  “Let's go investigate. You'll see.”

  She parked Beth on her hip, and this seemed to be pretty comforting already. Jane and Beth headed downstairs, and Jane said, “See? It's movers. Someone is moving in. They're our neighbors. Can you say neighbors? Can you say mama? Can you say anything? No? That's okay.”

  The movers dropped something very thuddy and Beth started creeping toward another big cry. Jane sat down on the stairs and began to sing new words to Brahms's lullaby.

  “Lullaby and good night, I love you, my Be-eth. That was just a big noise, and you do-on't need
to cry. It's okay You are safe, and we're going upstairs now. I love you. Yes, I do. I love you, my Beth.”

  And that's when she saw Peter. Right in the hall of her building. How did he get in? Didn't she get his keys back? She could have sworn she did. Damn. She flinched enough to scare Beth a little. How did he get in? Jane was tired, remember. She was slow at putting things together.

  “You do sing to her. I knew you would.”

  He stooped to Beth's eye level. “Hello, Beth.” She reached out and grabbed his thumb. “Strong grip! You're a strong girl, aren't you?”

  He looked dangerously good. Jane wanted to run, but Beth held on to Peter's thumb. Jane reached down to pry them apart, but that required touching Peter's hand. A staggering task, but she did it.

  And then, oh, God, he tried to hold on to her hand. She made sure he failed.

  “What?” Jane's voice was shrill. “You saw her, you saw me, and you saw that we're fine. We're more than fine. We're goddamn happy. How do you like that? I'm doing this without you, and did I mention that we're as fine as we can be?”

  “I see that. Hi, Beth. I'm Peter. I'm your neighbor.”

  Beth seized his thumb again. “Let go of him, honey. We have to go now.”

  “Please, Jane, just hear me out.”

  Jane felt a cry in her throat.

  “You lied to me.”

  “Yes. And I'm sorry. I missed China, I hurt you, and I let you get away. I was scared, but now the only thing that scares me is you walking away again.”

  Jane's breathing was shallow. How could he expect her to trust him? He hurt her. A lot.

  “Do you expect me to trust you? You hurt me. A lot.”

  “I'm sorry. But I'm here now for good. I'll do whatever it takes. Because I have to,” he said as Beth twisted his thumb in a direction it wasn't meant to go.

  Jane shook her head. She wasn't going to be this stupid. “No. See, I'm not just me anymore. I have a child. I can't just jump in and out of love. I can't have you here and then not here, bouncing off your latest whim. You should have stayed gone. It's too late now.”

  Jane turned her attention to Beth. “Come on, sweetheart, let's go back upstairs.”

  “Wait!” Peter shouted. But she didn't wait. She climbed the stairs, and with each step, Jane imagined crushing Peter under her feet. And that was the perfect final cure for Peter. Oh, sure, Peter. Let's do this your way. Commitment? Who needs that. Stability? Overrated. Trust? An illusion. Hope? A nightmare. Love? A marketing tool.

  Jane was so busy crushing Peter's bones she forgot to maintain her New York peripheral vision. She would have seen Peter signing a clipboard presented by the movers. He finished signing and started to climb the stairs after Jane. She swung around and used a voice she had learned in self-defense class.

  “Are you stalking me? I'll call the cops. I'm not afraid to scream.”

  Peter stopped short. Jane fumbled through her pockets.

  “I've got my phone right here. Somewhere. I'll call 911right now, I swear. You leave me and my daughter alone.” She began to fumble through her pockets, but then she remembered leaving the cell phone upstairs. Damn.

  “Jane. I'm not stalkng you. In fact—” He reached out to her and moved closer.

  “Don't take another step.” Jane's fumbling produced a set of keys. Hah!

  Peter had keys too. “This is what I was trying to tell you. I bought the apartment. The one you wanted to buy before.”

  Beth reached for his interesting thumb once again. Peter kept talking.

  “And I bought dishes and furniture and everything. I'm dug in here, Jane. Truly. What can I do to show you that I'm here to stay?”

  Jane and Beth sat down on the stairs.

  “Go ahead and be mad at me, Jane. I've got that coming. But you need to know what I know. In fact, I made a list. It's called What I Know. Here goes:

  I LOVE YOU.

  WE BELONG TOGETHER.

  I WAS AN IDIOT FOR LEAVING.

  I'M NOT LEAVING AGAIN.

  I TOLD MY PARENTS THAT I MOVED HERE FOR YOU.

  I LOVE YOU.

  That needed two spots on the list. Extra important, you know. Jane. Do you get it yet? I'll do whatever it takes.”

  Beth was now exploring the rest of Peter's hand. Jane shifted her daughter to the other hip, vainly hoping that it would distract her from the tears that she was absolutely not going to let fall. But they fell. He reached his free hand to brush them from her cheek. She thought she was pushing his hand away, but she was letting her hand rest on his.

  He moved slowly and took her hand. She touched his cheek. He kissed her open palm.

  …

  Ray had wanted to throw Jane a baby shower, but their travel plans to China had gotten the best of him. Instead, he threw Beth's first birthday party. The Chinamoms came, of course, old friends, new friends. Arlene was there with her referral picture.

  “I travel in three weeks! Any words of advice?”

  Arlene didn't realize what she was asking. Teresa talked directly into her ear for an hour. Arlene looked tired after that.

  Megan and her toddler/baby Stella came to the party. Stella was walking, saying a few words, and taking every toy from every baby. The babies looked confused, but Stella looked determined. Charm brought her gorgeous baby boy Seth. He seemed like the peaceful king of the harem.

  Karen introduced her handsome friend Raj to Ray.

  “Raj and I dated a long time ago, but that was before Raj knew he liked boys better than girls. Which explained a whole lot. Anyway, I thought you two should meet. And here you are. Meeting.”

  “A suave fix up. Very cool.” Ray either liked this guy a lot or was mortified. Jane couldn't tell. But she wasn't accustomed to seeing Ray blush.

  All the babies gathered around Celeste, who had changed her hair to pumpkin orange. She clapped, sang songs, and could probably lead them all out of town if she wanted to. Celeste spoke exclusively to the children. She could see adults any day. She did reserve a minute or two for Jane, though.

  “Darling. You will be happy in this baby for the rest of your life. Every minute of every day. You hear me? Some days will be hard, but still you will be happy”

  Peter arrived late. He carried a bouquet of pink balloons that declared, “It's a girl!” in glittery letters. Jane didn't notice him right away. Beth did, and she shouted, “A Bah!”

  All the babies bounced the balloons, and Beth managed to pop one with a newly erupting tooth. Peter mingled with the group and tried not to step on any children. None of the Chinamoms actually talked to him. Yet. But they watched him. And Jane watched them watching him, while Peter watched her watching them watching him.

  “Peter? Could you give me a hand in the kitchen?” Ray asked.

  Peter followed him, but this was such an obvious Invitation to an Inquisition. Ray, Karen, and Teresa cornered him in Jane's tiny kitchen. Jane saw the parade and pressed her ear to the kitchen door. She heard:

  “What are your intentions toward our girl?” Ray asked.

  “We simply won't allow you to hurt her again,” said Teresa.

  “Do you think you knew her in a previous life?” asked Karen.

  “Well?” Ray commanded.

  Jane peeked through the doorway. Peter's smile went on forever.

  “I picked the right girl to fall in love with, didn't I?”

  Jane matched his smile. There was already so much love in her life, such fierce protection. What a lucky girl she was. What a happy life they could have together. Jane kissed her daughter.

  …

  The weather was turning cold, but then had the odd snap of a warm day. Jane took Beth to the park. It was a sort of Mardi Gras/make hay while the sun doth shine afternoon. Jane was not the only parent to have this thought. Washington Square Park was overflowing with children and parents.

  Jane had been alternating between two parks. At Tompkins Square Park, she felt like the old parent. There, everyone had tattoos and piercings and let t
heir kids eat the dirt, and so? Why not?

  In Washington Square, Jane felt like the poor parent. There were jewels, cell phone calls to film stars, nannies to watch the kids even while the parents were there, and rich-family conversations:

  “Honey, if we can't find a present for Mommy at Tiffany's, we'll have to go back to Cartier. Sorry”

  “Mommy! Tad is wearing a shirt he's worn before!”

  “Daddy, when are you going to buy another island—I'm bored with the old one.”

  Jane was a gate-crasher, or at least that was how it felt. Her baby couldn't walk yet, so the playground seemed unnecessary. And it was so Lord of the Flies in so many ways. The larger children tormented the smaller ones for sport.

  “Beth, this is what you have to look forward to.”

  “Oh, now, it's not so bad.”

  Wow. No, it wasn't Beth speaking. It was another mom, sitting on the park bench. She looked familiar. Beth had probably seen her here before.

  She called to her toddling son, “Hi, Joshua! I see you, my big walking boy!”

  “Mommy!” he cried. He said that a lot as he circled a stone turtle nearby. He used it for balance.

  “How old is your daughter?”

  “Twelve months.”

  At this age, the answer is always in months. It stays that way until they're two years old. No one tells you this, but now you know.

  The wind picked up, and Beth wanted her mother's lap. Jane wanted to hold her. They snuggled on the park bench. Beth gazed up at her mother and absently curled her hair around one finger.

  “That's nice,” said the other mother.

  “What is?”

  “The way she plays with your hair. Like she's the one who's cuddling you. It's all so delightful, isn't it?”