Baby Alicia Is Dying

by Lurlene McDaniel

  “I am. But I volunteer here two weekends a month, doing yard work. They sure need the help.” He wiped sweat from his forehead. “So what have you been doing since school let out?”

  “I’ve been filling in for my dad’s receptionist while she’s on vacation—answering phones and setting up appointments.” She looked around the expansive yard. The bushes were clipped, and mulch had been spread around the bases of hedges and trees. “The place looks nice. Better than before.”

  “Yeah, well, I wanted to help out, and I knew I’d be no good juggling babies—the way they poop and all.”

  He made a face, and she smiled. “I got an A in biology,” she said. “Did you?”

  “Sure did, but I’ve created a monster. My report card had mostly C’s, a D-plus, and one glowing A. My mom keeps calling me my son, the doctor.’ ”

  They stood looking at each other in the hot, sticky air until Brian said, “You told me you’d quit after Alicia died. I didn’t think you’d come back.”

  Desi swatted at a fly that buzzed around her hair. “I didn’t plan to. I didn’t think I could stand coming here and not seeing her. Even now it’s hard to think about the babies inside and how they could get sick and die.”

  “Gayle told me that Dwayne had his first birthday and that his most recent results showed he’s not testing HIV-positive anymore. They think he’ll be all right, it’s possible that he may never develop AIDS.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Brian pointed to the box she carried. “So what you got there? Some kind of plant?”

  She adjusted her grip on the box. “Believe it or not, it’s a rosebush. I thought I’d plant it under the nursery window.”

  “I can do it for you.”

  She pulled back. “No. Uh—thanks, but I want to do it.” She felt she owed him an explanation. “It’s a dumb idea I had. I know it looks like a naked stick with its bottom wrapped in burlap, but the guy at the nursery where I bought it swears that it’ll be blooming in no time. It’s supposed to have giant, red velvet roses with some fancy name that I can’t remember. The man said it’ll need plenty of water.”

  “Would you like me to take care of it?”

  “Could you?” She appreciated his offer, knowing she’d failed to consider its upkeep once it was planted.

  “No problem.” He looked around. “Well, I’d better get back to work.”

  “And I’d better get this thing in the ground. It was good to see you again.”

  “Yeah. You too.” He climbed back onto the riding mower, but paused before switching on the engine. “I was wondering if maybe sometime this summer you’d like to go to a movie with me.”

  Her heart thumped, and she felt a funny fluttering sensation inside her tummy. “A movie?”

  “Nothing with blood and guts,” he warned with a grin.

  “Sure. I’d like to a lot.”

  “I’ll call you.” He waved and started the motor. The engine roared as he zigzagged in and out of the trees. Soon the sound of the motor was replaced by the humming of insects, and the smell of gasoline displaced by the sweet scent of the honeysuckle. A real date with Brian. She grinned and looked forward to telling Corrine.

  Desi boosted the box and headed for the window outside the room where Alicia once lived.

  “Brian said you were out here.”

  Desi looked up at Gayle, hastily wiped her dirt-covered palms on her shorts, and shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun. Gayle was tan and trimmer than the last time Desi had seen her. “I’m planting a rosebush. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not a bit. We’re trying hard to fix the place up. Your friend Brian’s been a great help.”

  “He really understands about AIDS and the babies and all.”

  “Yes, he told me about his uncle.” Gayle regarded the bush skeptically. “Is it alive?”

  “I know it doesn’t look like much right now, but the man at the nursery promised it’d be spouting roses in a few weeks.”

  “Why are you planting it?”

  Desi didn’t answer right away, but patted the red Georgia dirt firmly around the base and stood. “I started thinking about how Alicia only lived for such a little bit of time, and how she’d never get to grow up. She’d have been pretty, don’t you think?”

  “She would have been beautiful.”

  “Well, I thought there should be something pretty to remember her by. A rosebush seemed like a good idea.”

  Gayle looked thoughtful. “You mean like a living memorial?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I love it. In fact I love it a lot. We could put a memorial garden here on the grounds. Something with benches, for quiet meditation. A kind of living monument to all these babies.” Gayle rubbed her hands together gleefully. “What an excellent idea. I’ll bring it up at our next board meeting. Maybe we can set aside some money for it.”

  Desi was pleased by Gayle’s enthusiasm, but she had wanted to plant something just for Alicia—and for Matthew. Still she said, “It sounds all right to me. I hope the board approves.”

  Gayle put her arm around Desi’s shoulders. “How have you been? We’ve missed you. Tamara especially.”

  “I’m okay.” A swarm of memories pressed in on Desi—walking Alicia in her stroller, bathing the babies, feeding and changing them, Christmas and the decorating party. She felt a lump rising to her throat and realized she needed to get out of there.

  “Why don’t you come inside and have some lemonade? Sadie’s just made a fresh pitcher. She’s baking cookies too.”

  “I’ve got to be going. Mom’s picking me up soon.”

  “It’s awful hot out here, and that lemonade is ice-cold.”

  Desi warred with her emotions. “Well, maybe for one glass.”

  Inside the house the air-conditioning felt cool, refreshing. She lifted her long hair off her neck and looked around. Fresh mauve paint, matched floral-patterned sofas, and gorgeous arrangements of silk flowers made the living room look like a page from a decorator’s magazine. “The place looks wonderful,” Desi said in genuine admiration.

  “Your mother’s touch,” Gayle told her.

  “My mother? She never said a word.”

  “I think she wanted to give you plenty of space about the whole thing. We all knew how you were grieving.” Gayle led her into the newly furnished playroom. “Your mother’s really been fantastic. She knows so many decorators and merchants. She managed to get donations of furniture and materials.”

  Gayle paused in front of a photo gallery of the ChildCare infants on the wall. Desi purposefully avoided looking at it, concentrating instead on the bookshelf below that held scrapbooks and various memorabilia. Her gaze snagged on the binding of the baby book she’d bought Alicia. Had anyone filled it in? She longed for the courage to check, but didn’t find it.

  She followed Gayle into the kitchen, where several of the volunteers sat eating lunch. “I heard you were visiting,” Sadie said, embracing Desi. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Can you stay? Tamara will be here soon, and she’d love to see you.”

  “I can’t. Honest.” Desi felt trapped. All she wanted to do was get out.

  Sadie grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall. “Come see the babies before you go. We’ve got two new ones. Of course it’s nap time right now, so you’ll be seeing them at their best.”

  “But I can’t—”

  Sadie ushered her into one of the bedrooms. “Shh. Just take a peek.” Desi felt a tightening in her chest. She was in Alicia’s old room. Muted sunlight shimmered through sheer white curtains and a partially drawn window shade. “Look at this one,” Sadie urged, leaning over Alicia’s old crib. Sadie lifted a tightly wound bundle off the elevated mattress. “This here is Lucas.”

  Reluctantly Desi peered at a tiny dark face within the folds of the blanket. His features were wizened, like an old man’s, and a stocking hat covered his head.

  “He was born five weeks premature and is just now top
ping six pounds. It was touch and go for a spell—he was born HIV-positive and cocaine-addicted—but he’s scrappy. We’ve had him with us for two weeks.”

  Desi inspected Lucas and the bed, Alicia’s bed. The sheets were now pale blue, the blanket sported turtles in football gear, and the stuffed animals were all brand-new. Her heart twisted. It was as if Alicia had never existed.

  “Oops,” Sadie said suddenly. “There goes the timer for my cookies. Here.” She handed the baby over to Desi, who juggled the bundle awkwardly.

  “But I don’t want—”

  “I’ll be right back,” Sadie called softly, hurrying out the door.

  For a moment Desi didn’t move. Air felt trapped in her lungs. She didn’t want to be there. She didn’t want to be holding Lucas. In her arms the baby squirmed and whimpered, reminding her of a mewing kitten. “Don’t wake up,” she pleaded. Lucas’s eyes remained closed, and Desi let her breath out slowly. He settled down, and she started to lay him in the crib, but saw the rocker by the window and decided to rock him so that he’d stay asleep.

  He weighed next to nothing in her arms. She pulled the blanket away from his face and studied him. He wasn’t a very pretty baby, she decided. His nose seemed too large for his face, and his chin jutted. No, he wasn’t much to look at. Maybe he’d look better when he filled out, got some weight on him. Desi sighed.

  Sunlight spilled onto her lap. Outside she could see the bush she’d planted beneath the window. Rising out of the packed Georgia clay, it looked forlorn, like a stripped stick, and she shook her head in disgust. If that man at the nursery had sold her a dud … Again she looked down at the baby. “I suppose I’ll have to come and keep an eye on the thing,” she grumbled. Yes, that’s what she’d have to do. She’d have to return to carefully watch it, in order to make certain that it bloomed.

  Desi hugged Lucas closer and began to rock back and forth. She knew Alicia would never see the flowers, but perhaps Lucas would. Perhaps he’d be one of the lucky ones who escaped AIDS to grow into a normal, healthy boy. Only time would tell.

  Absently Desi began to hum a lullaby while Lucas slept nestled in her arms, and soft summer sunlight floated through the window and danced on his tiny face.