Friday Night Flights

by Susan X Meagher

  “Oddly, that was the only thing she wanted replaced on a regular basis. I think my dad put this in about five years ago. He tried to talk her into getting area rugs, since the original floors are really beautiful, but she was from an era where a bare floor meant you couldn’t afford a carpet.”

  “Hmm. And you really think I could talk your dad into renting it out for just a thousand a month?”

  “Plus utilities,” Casey said. “And I’m sure you could, since I already did. It took all of my negotiating skills, but he finally agreed.” She turned and faced Avery. “If you want it, it’s yours. But if you don’t, I won’t be offended.” She looked a little sheepish when she added, “I’d be wounded if you thought it was a dump, but not if you just didn’t think it would work for you.”

  “It’s not a dump, Casey. At all. I’d be thrilled to live in a home with this kind of history. Can I see the kitchen?”

  “Um, yeah, but be open-minded. It’s…unique,” she said, making a face.

  “I’ve seen quite a few unique places while apartment hunting in Brooklyn. Let’s see how this compares to the place I saw with a bathtub in the kitchen.”

  Casey stopped and gave her a very puzzled look. “In the kitchen?”

  “Right in the kitchen. It had a piece of wood that fit over the tub, so you could use it as a table.” She laughed, thinking about the dingy place, along with the nineteen hundred dollar price tag. “It was an old tenement building, with a tuberculosis window.”

  Casey stopped again and stared. “I need a little more info on that one.”

  “Back in the day, they thought people got sick from lack of air flow. So they put windows into interior walls. In a railroad apartment like the one I’m talking about, it added a little light to the rooms that didn’t have windows. Very little,” she added, amused by the look on Casey’s face.

  “I’ve just decided you might think this kitchen is ultra-modern. No tub, and no tuberculosis window.”

  They walked through the biggish living room to turn right into a very large kitchen. It had to be large to contain a full-sized hot water heater, along with a washer and dryer, in addition to the usual sink, refrigerator and stove, all of which looked like they were from a different era. “Well, well, well,” Avery said. “This is a new one for me.” She smiled at Casey, who was looking a little skittish. “You can’t say it’s not big. And think of the time it would save having to trudge down to the basement to do the laundry.”

  “That’s the attitude,” she said. “It’s all downhill from here.”

  “Let’s take a peek upstairs, just in case there’s a coal-fired furnace in one of the bedrooms.”

  “Oil heat, and I’m certain it’s in the basement.” She gave Avery a tight smile. “Personally, I wouldn’t be able to spend a lot of time down there. The dirt floor creeps me out.”

  “Fantastic,” Avery said, rolling her eyes.

  They walked upstairs together, with a few of the treads creaking under their weight. “Is that the burglar alarm?” Avery asked.

  “Yup. That’ll give you enough time to load your shotgun.”

  The ceiling of the master bedroom was on such a steep angle that Avery would have had to bend over to get to the wall, and it was cool and dim, even after the hot days they’d been having. Casey went to the window and opened it, using a wooden peg to hold the top sash up. Then she opened the shutter, revealing a very deep backyard surrounded by tall trees, allowing not even a glimpse of any neighbors.

  “Now this is nice,” Avery said. “Very cozy.”

  “It’s usually cool up here. My dad put a new roof on just a few years ago, and he installed sheets of insulation. It helped a lot.” Her expression turned grim again. “He wouldn’t even try to find someone to repair the old slate roof. It probably wasn’t original, but…”

  Avery gave her a pat on the back. “I’m sorry he doesn’t appreciate this place like you do. Or that your mom doesn’t. I mean, it’s her family’s heritage…”

  “My mom’s very pragmatic. She’d been trying to get my grandma to move to our place for ten years, and I think she started to think of this house as nothing but a burden. She’s just…over it, I guess.”

  “But you’re not.”

  “I’m definitely not. Part of the reason I’d love to see you here is that my dad might slow down on his plans if he’s making enough to cover the real estate taxes. Full disclosure,” she said, smiling.

  “So far, so good. I’d love to help in the battle to preserve the… What’s the family name again?”

  “Gerritsen. It’s been anglicized to Garrison by some branches of the family, but my mom’s kept it original. Want to see the smaller bedrooms? One’s just right for Lisbet.”

  “Absolutely.”

  The two bedrooms in the front both had the severely sloping roof, and they were bathed in the morning light, allowing Avery to picture Lisbet waking with the dawn.

  She faced Casey and said, “I’ve got to pee, and if the toilet flushes properly, I’m moving in.”

  ***

  The toilet performed up to par, and Avery seemed very excited when they got back into the truck. She rode in the back with Lisbet, as usual, and she spent much of the trip telling the baby how happy she was going to be in her new house, frequently adding that Lisbet’s new best friend had been vital to the scheme. It was pretty cool to listen to Avery jabber away, clearly taking her job seriously. It was odd to admit, but Casey had never paid much attention to parents talking to their kids. It wasn’t until right this minute that she realized Avery was helping the baby learn how to communicate. It was really no different from a cat teaching a kitten to groom itself, and equally necessary.

  “You’re awfully good with her,” Casey said. “If I hadn’t seen how you two interact, I would have just played with her when I had her alone. Since she can’t talk, I wouldn’t have thought to.”

  “Mmm. Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know if my parents talked to me a lot, but I assume they did, since I was talking and reading pretty early. But every once in a while I see a parent with a kid and can tell there’s just not much of an exchange. Makes me sad.”

  “I have no idea when I learned to talk or read. Probably late,” Casey said. “Reading, at least. I never really mastered it.”

  “Seriously?” Via the rearview mirror, Casey could see Avery gazing at her, looking concerned. “Do you…have a learning disability?”

  “Not according to anyone who could have helped me out. Everyone believed I was either lazy or screwing around.” She met Avery’s gaze in the mirror. “I was behind from the beginning. I remember being in first grade and thinking I’d missed some stuff that everybody else already knew.” She paused for a second, on the verge of adding more, then thought better of it. She still didn’t trust Avery enough to go into any depth about her grade school days, when the teasing about her intelligence had started.

  “Why didn’t your teachers notice? A kid in my class who had reading problems got a decent amount of help.”

  “I can’t say. But if anyone noticed, I sure didn’t get any help.” She didn’t add that her father had been sure from the beginning that she was lazy, for reasons she’d never understood. If anyone had proposed giving her any intervention, she was almost certain he wouldn’t have allowed it.

  “That must have been hard,” Avery said, sounding like she actually cared.

  “Wasn’t easy. College was really a bitch. Took me eight years to finish.”

  “Full time?”

  Casey laughed at the stunned expression on her face. “Your voice broke on that one. No, Avery, not full time. After I’d worked at the brewery for a couple of years, the owners decided I had management potential. Neither of them had any education in the science of brewing, and they wanted their top people to know how to do things right.”

  “Wait… You can go to college to learn how to brew beer? Real college?”

  “Real college,” Casey said, feeling a little dissed. “SU
NY Cobleskill.”

  “Cobleskill? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “It’s in Schoharie County.”

  “I’ve never heard of that. It it far?”

  “It’s not close. Obviously. About an hour west of Albany.”

  “Wow. I didn’t know you’d gone to college, Casey. I didn’t think you were into it.”

  “I wasn’t. And I wouldn’t have considered going if they hadn’t pushed me. But they proposed I work part-time for two years while I went to school full-time, so I couldn’t really refuse.”

  “But…you said it took you eight years.”

  “It did. At the end of two years I’d only finished three semester’s worth of work. But they knew I was trying hard, so they told me to take my time and finish at my own pace. I went back to work full time, and just took one class per term.”

  “Ahh. No wonder it took so long.”

  “Yup. Once I started taking courses in my major, a professor suggested I get evaluated for a learning disability.” She looked at Avery again. “After just a little testing, I had all the help I should have had from the beginning.”

  “And that let you finish with less difficulty?”

  “It did. I’m the proud holder of a bachelor of technology in applied fermentation, which would come in handy if I ever wanted to work for a bigger brewery.” She checked the rear-view mirror to see Avery gazing at her with a warm smile.

  “That’s…that’s really admirable. Anyone can finish college if it’s easy. But sticking with it for eight years when it’s not? That’s something, Casey. Something big.”

  Casey took another peek at her, seeing Avery smiling at her with what actually might have been admiration. If she’d ever thought it was funny to laugh at people who struggled in school, she’d moved past it. Or she was a great liar. At this point, Casey would have put money on the former, but she still wasn’t able to completely rule out the latter.

  ***

  They arrived at the Van Dyke home at around eleven. Avery watched the doors to Casey’s room swing wide, and as she started to go in, Casey said, “Why don’t you get ready in here? I’ll change Lisbet outside.”

  “Really? Why…”

  “Just to give you some privacy. My bathroom’s sort of small.”

  “Sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. If you’ll give me her hat, I’ve got everything else.”

  “You’ll need swim diapers—”

  “Bought some,” she said, looking quite proud of herself. “I want her to come over all the time, so I stocked up.”

  “Again, I’m going to have to make an appointment to see her if I let you have her whenever you want to.”

  “I’ll take her whenever you’re tired or losing patience,” she said, with her dark eyes gazing at Avery soberly. “If she’s a normal baby, that should be five or six hours every day, right?”

  “That sounds about right. I hope you don’t mind the midnight to six a.m. shift.”

  “We’ll negotiate.” She lifted the car seat carrier from Avery’s hand and started to talk to Lisbet when she brought it close to her face. “Let’s go put our swimsuits on and dive into the deep end. Want to?”

  The baby smiled coyly at her, something she’d started to do more often lately.

  “I think she’s ready,” Avery said.

  “We’ll be waiting.”

  Avery handed over the baby’s hat, then watched Casey hit a button on the side of the room to close the doors. After getting all of her things organized, Avery started to change into her suit. It took a few minutes to wrestle herself into the very unexciting two-piece, but she was glad she’d bought it. The waist-length top hid some of the loose skin on her belly, and the bottoms revealed her legs, which, except for some fat on her hips, looked pretty good.

  After going into the bathroom to take a look, Avery immediately reassessed. She didn’t look very good at all. The fat on her legs was much more visible than it was when she was naked. It was like the elastic pushed it down in an unflattering way. And the top didn’t hide her flabby belly as well as she’d thought it would. And why did she buy a black suit? Her skin was pale to start with, and she hadn’t gotten any sun at all this year, since she’d been so worried about protecting Lisbet’s skin. She looked like a chubby friggin’ ghost.

  For the first time since she’d given birth she stared at herself frankly. Granted, it had only been six and a half months, but she’d thought she’d bounce back faster than this. If she was stuck with this lumpy body forever… She blew out a frustrated breath. If she’d wanted to keep her body in good shape, she should have spent money on a personal trainer rather than on baby furniture and co-pays at the pediatrician. You literally couldn’t have it all, and when she wasn’t being such an idiot, she realized that having Lisbet was worth looking a little lumpy. Get over yourself! she chided herself before refusing to look into the mirror for one more second.

  As Avery opened the door to exit into the backyard, she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Lisbet sitting on Casey’s belly. The human raft was lying on her back, kicking gently as she did a slow lap, holding the baby’s hands firmly. Lisbet looked very happy, gurgling and whipping her head around like she did when she was thrilled by a new experience.

  Avery knew how to swim, and thought she was fairly competent. But she couldn’t have moved down the length of the pool with the unhurried steadiness that Casey exhibited. Especially not without using her arms to provide some added power.

  Lisbet looked adorable in her new suit—a bright blue onesie with a bold print covering it. But it was hard to look at Lisbet when the water was flowing around Casey’s shoulders and over her perfectly-shaped breasts. Her rash guard was very bright yellow, or maybe chartreuse was the right term. Whatever the proper name, the color looked great on her, showing off her surprisingly perky breasts, given that she likely wasn’t wearing a bra. Her shorts had slipped down a little, riding low on her hips, the white background with a bright blue and green plaid demanding attention. Well, maybe it wasn’t the shorts that demanded attention. Her taut belly didn’t want to share the limelight with a mere pair of shorts. Damn. It’s not like she wasn’t cute enough when she was fully dressed! Her body was sick!

  “You two look like a pretty pair of water nymphs,” she said, speaking up so she wouldn’t be able to ogle Casey a moment longer.

  Casey thrust her legs down, rising up to grasp the baby and hold her above the water for a second. Then she dipped her, letting her little legs slip in for the short trip back to the faux beach. “I’m a water sign. What’s Lisbet?”

  “No idea. I know more about nuclear fusion than I do astrology.”

  “Huh,” Casey said, exiting, with the baby turning to stare at the water, clearly not ready to leave. “I didn’t think there was anything I’d know that you didn’t.”

  “I don’t think that comment deserves a response, so I’ll compliment you on your fashion sense. When did you buy this little getup for Lisbet?”

  Casey was holding the baby up to her chest, and she patted her back. “I was craving a cappuccino when I went by the restaurant yesterday. Since it’s the end of the summer, the baby store I passed had a massive sale on swim clothes.”

  “The baby store where a little romper costs as much as a nice dinner?” Avery asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I wouldn’t buy anything there at full price. But at the end of the season you can get a deal.”

  “Well, it’s adorable, but you don’t need to buy Lisbet clothes. I can afford anything she needs.” She put her hand on the onesie, which was much thicker than she’d expected. “What is this made of?”

  “It’s kind of like a wetsuit. I thought she needed something extra since the days are getting shorter. I want to make sure she’s warm enough to really enjoy it.”

  “Let me pay you for the suit. Besides being really cute, it’s practical. Are those dinosaurs?”

  “Uh-huh. I’m sure it was meant for a boy, but
all of that pink stuff just annoys me.”

  “Ugh! Me too. I exchanged nearly all of the pink things she got for her baby shower, but it was impossible to completely avoid it. I have nothing against the color, but why do girls have to dress in it exclusively?”

  “Parents must be into it, since people Lisbet’s age don’t have much cash on them.”

  The baby started to lean toward the water, with her hands out in front of her, like she was going to scoop it up. Casey immediately got back in, dipping Lisbet’s legs again, and smiling when she started to kick them in a very ineffective way. “If you’re looking to save a few dollars, there’s a kids’ resale shop in Rhinebeck that’s supposed to be great. Maybe you can check them out.”

  “And just how do you know about shops in Rhinebeck?”

  “I used to spend most of my weekends in Rhinebeck,” she said, grinning slyly. “I did a lot of window shopping.”

  Avery was about to question her further, but Lisbet kept trying to stuff her fist into her own mouth, an early-warning sign that she was getting hungry. “You’d better let me feed her.”

  “You and I can have a lot of fun when you’re not hungry, Lisbet,” Casey said as she handed the baby over. “But your mom’s got the magic potion when you are.”

  “Want me to go inside?”

  “Of course not. Why not sit under the pergola? Those chairs are fully in the shade.”

  “Damn,” Avery said, looking over at the large wooden structure, with a deep green vine woven through the overhead supports. “This house truly ought to be in a magazine. It’s almost a shame you don’t have a bigger family to make use of it.”

  “Good point. Why don’t we make the party bigger? My friends Ben and Julie are home today.” Her smile grew bigger. “Ask your parents to come over, too. We can have a barbecue.”

  “Oh, Casey, that’s too generous! We can’t impose on your family like that.”

  Casey shook her head slowly. “My mom’s in the kitchen right now, but she won’t come out on her own. Having people over isn’t an imposition, since she won’t acknowledge anyone’s here.”