by Natalie Ann
“Don’t wait too long.”
“I’m taking vitamins and folic acid, so I’ll be okay for a few more weeks.”
Getting through the day took all the discipline she had. When it was time to leave, she almost cried with relief. Walking to the car gave her a little boost so she could get home in one piece. After a shower, she got into bed, sent Joey a text that she was beat, going to sleep at six thirty p.m., and would text him in the morning. By the time he answered her, she was fast asleep.
They passed like ships in the night, Candy leaving for her rotation and Joey arriving home after a quiet night. He had rested enough and was ready with his checklist of things in the house to deal with before the inspectors came. Rather than tell Candy and have her stew about it, he decided to ask for Roberta’s help, and she was due any minute.
The house looked great and was neat and clean like he liked it. All they had to do was concentrate on safety concerns, like a lock for the toilet seat and lower kitchen cabinets, attaching dressers and bookshelves to walls so they couldn’t fall over, and padding the hearth in front of the fireplace.
While he worked, Joey did something he rarely did; he fantasized instead of concentrating on the job. Two things played out in his head. His wife’s body, which he’d missed over the past three days, was the first thing. In the past, she’d visit him at the firehouse for a quickie, but since she found out she was pregnant, she no longer made an issue of their separation, and he had to admit he felt a little resentful. She was using him for his sperm, he thought, laughing, forgetting that for several weeks in a row, until his work schedule fell over a weekend, she was gone all day, as well.
The second was Annie. An urgency to get her into their house had monopolized his life over the past weeks. Candy sensed that he was giving it more attention than he gave his own unborn baby, and it had taken every ounce of self-control he had not to allow the prospect of fostering her to become an obsession.
He’d made two distinct areas for babies in their house. In their bedroom alcove, a newborn nursery would be set up in the months to come. But in one of their spare bedrooms, he was organizing a real nursery, with a crib and changing table and rocker. Boxes of diapers and stacks of tiny clothes had secretly emerged with help from his mother and sisters-in-law who had babies and hand-me-downs they were more than willing to share. Candy’s involvement in the preparations had been minimal—not because she was unwilling, but because she had neither the time nor the energy.
The Tuesday after Thanksgiving, thanks to Roberta working over the weekend, they were ready. Roberta and Joey were waiting in the kitchen, chatting over coffee, when the doorbell rang.
“I guess this is it,” Roberta said, nodding for him to answer.
Roberta understood Candy’s reticence and didn’t judge her. She just hadn’t bonded with the baby yet. If they’d had her for any length of time and it didn’t happen, they’d have to consider professional help. But right now, she had compassion for Candy, not able to imagine the stress she must be under with medical school. Roberta would do what she could to lighten the burden.
After Joey introduced her, he led the inspectors on the tour of the home, and several minutes were spent in the nursery, where they approved of the sleeping situation. The only caveat, they’d have to add an alarm to their pool or fence it in.
While Roberta waited in the kitchen and listened, pleasant voices rang out. Confused, she’d prepared for defensive, critical, stern inspectors. Not child-loving, desperate people who would bend over backward to help them achieve the goal of getting a house licensed so they could foster that baby.
They left twenty minutes later. “Well, that’s that,” he said. “They said they didn’t see any problem. Now I just have to keep my fingers crossed that they’ll release her during my days off this week.”
“I’ll help you out,” Roberta replied. “Take it one day at a time. What are you going to do now?”
“I’ve got a couple of hours before Candy gets home, so I’m going to the gym,” he said. “Then to the grocery store, my favorite thing to do on my first day home. I’m getting like Pop is with the cooking.”
“All my boys cook,” she replied proudly. “At least they know how.”
She left, finally. For the first time in a while, he had the whole house to himself. The thing about firefighting that took the most getting used to was the lack of privacy in the bunkhouse. Even living at home until he was thirty years old didn’t have privacy issues because it was a huge, rambling house with enough bedrooms for each son to have his own space. He’d gone from that to sharing a bed with Candy.
Within months of getting married, having a baby in their midst might be difficult to get used to for Candy. She was an only child whose parents doted on her, and Joey did the same thing, trying to make sure she felt loved. That reminded him, so he sent her a text.
Inspection went well. How’s everything there?
She read the message after another run-in with Terry Bono that left her rolling her eyeballs. The only recourse to his harassment that she could see was if one of her classmates reported him. Although reprisals for reporting harassment were forbidden, they were known to happen, and she just couldn’t risk it.
“Look, it says right here in the handbook,” Kelly said, pointing while she read. “Repeated episodes of psychological provocation of a medical student, including but not limited to public humiliation, threats, and intimidation, by a superior, including residents, attending physicians, nurse managers or other staff in authority positions at the university, are forbidden.”
Putting her hands to her head, Candy pretended to pull out her hair. “I know! I know! But I’ve got too much going on right now to sue anyone. I don’t need another hobby.”
She’d just said the words; they were lingering in the air when the operator paged her on the overhead speakers. “Candy Saint, forty-one hundred, Candy Saint, forty-one hundred.”
“That’s the ICU step-down,” Kelly said. “Why didn’t they just text you?”
“My phone must be off,” she said, checking it. “It’s off. Fudge.”
She went to the closest phone and dialed the number; cell reception was terrible in the hospital.
“Candy, congratulations! I have the release papers in my hand. Your house passed the inspection. Baby Jane Doe can go home with you today!”
***
Happy for Joey but scared, she’d never even driven a car with a baby in it before. She texted Joey as soon as she heard the news.
“You passed the inspection! Congratulations.”
“They called you?”
“One of the nurses called me,” she said. “I’m bringing the baby home with me tonight.”
“Do you want me to come down? I can get the bus.”
“No, there’s no need for both of us to suffer that commute. I’ll have Annie for company. I hope she doesn’t cry. I won’t know what to do.”
“Wow, I’m stunned!”
“I know! Me too. So be ready for us.”
“Are you ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Candy said. “Talk about jumping in blindfolded.”
“It does sort of feel that way,” he said. “Do you want me to get my mother over here?”
“You could ask her if she wants to be involved, Joey. I’m just afraid if we wear them out now, I won’t get any help with our baby when it comes, and you know I’m going to need it.”
“Okay, I’ll just ask if she wants to be involved.”
“That’s a good way to word it. Give her an option without guilt. Gotta go. Kiss, kiss.”
“Hey, before you hang up, I need some you-know-what tonight.”
“Right! It’s been four long days. Speaking of long…”
“Ha! See you later. Text me when you have her.”
“I will.”
The unreal day proceeded with the usual taunts by Terry Bono, which she ignored. Finally, at five, she was done and took the stairs up to the ICU step-down
.
“She’s all ready for you!” the nurses chorused. “Baby seat, check. Formula for a week, check. Diapers, check. Bring your car around to the front, and we’ll meet you down there!”
Finally, the excitement she hoped she’d have started to bubble up. She looked at Annie again, sound asleep in the car seat, those long lashes resting on her fat cheeks. Candy could learn to love her, given time. Right now she was competition for Joey’s attention, and Candy was trying to deal with those illogical feelings.
As she approached the front of the hospital, nurses waved to her. That was her little baby for the time being.
Chapter Seven
Jacob Shuler’s office was two blocks from the Mission Motel, making it convenient for his usual clients: junkies, dealers, parolee violations and shoplifters. Kathy Miller was his usual client, but with a twist, she wanted him to help her regain custody of a baby she’d ostensibly abandoned.
“You need a family law attorney,” he said, riffling through business cards on his desk and handing one over to her. “Here, go see Craig. Craig will fix you up.”
She didn’t have the money for a big court case. Staring at the card, noting the neighborhood—the office was in in a neighboring town—Kathy guessed he probably charged more than she could afford in a million years.
Watching her hesitate, Shuler took a guess. “How’d you lose custody in the first place?”
She told him the story, leaving out details like she’d been high at the time of the fire.
“So a judge ordered CPS to end your parental rights because there was evidence she’d be at risk of harm in your care.”
“Whatever you say,” she snapped.
“It’s not what I say. You need to prove to the judge that those issues no longer exist. You’re clean, for one thing, and not living with a bunch of junkies is also important. If you’re over at the Mission, you can forget it.
“Get the ball rolling because you have about six months from the date of separation to get her back. CPS took your child away, but they’ll help get her back if you get your act together.”
She left, sarcastically thanking him for his help, and went back to the motel to call CPS. Shuler was correct about CPS even though he made her angry. They’d work with her to get an apartment in a safer building so she could start the process of what they called reunification.
So while Candy Saint learned how to buckle Annie’s car seat into the back seat, Kathy Miller moved into the new efficiency apartment in the middle of town that her social worker had helped her get. While one division of CPS got Baby Jane Doe moved into a safe, loving foster home, the other worked to help her mother get her back.
The ride up the I-15 with a baby in the back of her car was as surreal as anything Candy had ever done. The entire drive was petrifying in bumper-to-bumper, eighty-mile-an-hour traffic, worrying that someone would sideswipe her, or that the baby would start choking and she’d be trapped, unable to help.
As it turned out, Annie slept the whole way. And when Candy pulled up to the house, waiting there was a sea of familiar faces: all Joey’s brothers, and their wives and girlfriends, and his parents, Big Mike looking intimidating, with his arm around the elegant Roberta, who was smiling and waving with both hands.
Her parents had come as well, Fran and Bob, confused because they hadn’t been involved in the story of the rescued baby, and even if they had, why on earth would their daughter and her husband bring this child into their life when they were expecting their own cherished baby?
And then there was Joey. He just took her breath away. Waiting for her with a smile, he’d taken extra care with his appearance, all the Saint boys quintessential metrosexuals, and every hair was in place, his clothing, jeans and a T-shirt impeccable; even his sneakers looked new. As soon as the car came to a stop, they converged on it, Joey making sure to go to the driver’s side first so she didn’t get irritated with him, but then dashing to the back to get to Annie before anyone else did.
With twenty people in the street crowding around the car, they were bound to get the curiosity of the neighbors, and pretty soon they came out of the house, reminding Candy of a scene from The Walking Dead. Then a cop car carrying two of the town’s finest arrived with a car full of baby gifts.
The next hour was chaotic for Candy. She was exhausted from the day but had tomorrow to get through as well, and it looked like the family was there to party indefinitely. Someone, probably Roberta and Big Mike, had prepared a huge spread for everyone, and between the food and the noise and the baby getting passed around like a football, Candy’s reserves were quickly diminishing. This was not how she’d envisioned the first night with the baby.
When small talk had just about run its course and she was tempted to go hide in the bedroom, Joey came to her.
“I’m sorry about this. Word about Annie got out, and it took on a life of its own.”
“I need to get to bed pretty soon,” Candy said, not mentioning that Roberta was the town crier. “It’s almost ten. I have no idea what to expect with Annie, either.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Joey said. “No worries. Look what we have for her in the fridge.” He opened the door, and Candy saw a dozen bottles all measured out. The bottle warmer was in their bedroom, on top of a dorm fridge.
“I’m scared, Joey. I want to get her settled. Do you think you can get them to leave?”
He heard the hysteria in her voice and took it at face value. “I’ll ask my brothers to start the exodus.”
Good to his word, when they left, the others followed, and by eleven the house was empty.
“She’s ready to party,” Candy said, the baby wide awake. “What do we do with her now?”
“She’ll sleep soon. I bet by the time we’re ready for bed, she’ll want her bottle.”
He was right. The baby slept in the little alcove off their bedroom. Candy curled up, hoping Joey could wait for another time to have sex. The thought of it made her dizzy she was so tired, but she needn’t have worried because he was out cold in a minute, his breathing so deep she could feel the resonance vibrating the mattress. Soon she was sleeping.
At four, the sound of a baby cooing woke Candy up. Lying there listening, she thought babies woke up crying, demanding attention. She closed her eyes again; the baby never cried, letting Candy sleep until her alarm went off at six.
She tiptoed to the bathroom, gently closing the door to shower. At six thirty, dressed and ready to go, she found Joey in bed with the baby and her bottle.
“Good luck today,” she said, bending over to kiss him.
The milky smell of the baby with a little pee thrown in made her grin. There was evidence of a diaper change in the trash can at the side of the bed. He was more compulsive about cleanliness than she was, and she didn’t have to try to micromanage how he proceeded with baby care.
“Call me when you get in,” he said. “I’ve got my mother on the hunt for baby care.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I want somewhere close where I can drop her off. I don’t want someone watching her alone in the house.”
“Gotcha. I can ask around, too.”
She kissed him again. She had just enough time to fix a travel mug of coffee and grab a piece of cake left over from their party.
Around noon, she had a spare moment to call him. There was laughter in the background and the sound of Annie crying.
“Hey, what’s going on? Sounds like a party there,” she said.
“Sherrie stopped in. We’re getting food out from the party for lunch. How’s it going there?”
Sherrie? Now she had to worry about Sherrie stopping in?
“It’s good. I’m swamped, as usual. How’s the baby?”
“She’s great. She slept until ten after that bottle, believe it or not.”
“That’s awesome you got some extra rest. I’d better get moving.”
They said goodbye without any endearments like they usually did. She wondered
if he noticed that she didn’t mention anything about Sherrie being there. Blood beginning to boil, there was nothing she could do about it from the hospital. She could send him a text and ask him to tell Sherrie to leave, but there’d be weirdness with Joey. Then, an epiphany—she’d ask her mother to go over and check on things.
“Just see if he needs an extra pair of hands, but don’t let on I called you. That nurse just happened to drop in, and confidentially, I don’t trust her.”
“I’m on my way.”
Fran would come through for her.
Joey was sitting on a barstool, with Annie in his arms, wearing sweatpants and no shirt, while Sherry stood behind the counter in Candy’s kitchen, when Fran came in without knocking. She yelled, “Knock, knock,” but wanted that element of surprise.
“Oh! I didn’t know you had company,” she cried, feigning alarm as she scurried over to the baby.
“Fran! Come in, come in. I guess you didn’t get enough of her last night.” He moved the blanket away from the baby’s face so Fran could see her. “Oh, this is Sherrie Colecki. Sherrie’s a nurse over at Rady.”
“Are you making a home visit?” Fran asked with an exaggerated look of confusion on her face.
“No, no, I live in the neighborhood and thought I’d see how Joey was doing with the baby.”
“Right, he’s alone because my daughter is doing her rotation today,” Fran said, nodding at her.
“Um, take Annie for me, will you, Fran? I’ll get dressed.”
“You must be getting cold,” Fran said, looking him up and down like a piece of meat.
“Right. I’ll be right back.”
“I’d better get moving. Today is my grocery shopping day,” Sherrie said, feeling the tension. “Text me if you need anything.”
“He’ll be fine,” Fran said. “I’m here now, and Roberta isn’t far behind.”
“Thanks for stopping by,” Joey said, walking her to the door.
Fran heard murmuring, which further ticked her off, thinking, Colecki, Colecki. Why is that name familiar?
