Friday Night Flights

by Susan X Meagher

  “Sure am. Do you have Diapered Drunks today?”

  “Still hilarious,” she said, backhanding him in the gut. “Walk me over.”

  They went to the side of the building that had a regular entrance, but they hadn’t gotten ten feet before it began to pour. “See you tomorrow,” Ben said, starting to run in the opposite direction. “You’re on your own.”

  Casey got another ten feet when a horn honked once. She slowed down when she saw it was Kathy. By the time Kathy had gotten out of her car, the umbrella she offered to share didn’t help Casey a bit. “I’m glad to see you,” Casey said. “Nice day, huh?” she asked, pushing her hair from her face.

  “Oh, it’s glorious. I’ll hold the umbrella over the door if you’ll help me get the baby out.” The wind started to pick up, blowing the umbrella to and fro as Casey struggled with the carrier insert. It didn’t take long to see that Lisbet wasn’t in a very good mood, fussing and sniffling while Casey worked.

  “Is she having a bad day?”

  “I think she’s getting another tooth. She’s been drooling like crazy, and didn’t want to nap. I’m sure she’s not going to be a very good playmate.” She looked around at the barren parking area. “If anyone else shows up.”

  “People always do,” Casey said, finally getting the car seat out. The wind hit Lisbet’s face and she scrunched it up and began to cry, really bawling by the time they reached the Pub. It took her a minute to realize she was somewhere different, but as soon as she did she lifted her head and let those dark blue eyes scan the whole place. Then Casey removed her from the car seat and walked around with her, explaining how the taps dispensed nature’s greatest alchemy—beer.

  “Don’t listen to her, Lisbet,” Kathy said, fighting to get the umbrella to collapse. “She’s got an agenda.”

  There was a knock on the doorframe, and a woman hesitantly opened the door and peeked in. “Is this the baby place?”

  “It certainly is,” Casey said, rushing over to greet her third guest. No matter the weather, people always showed.

  ***

  When she’d set up the program, Casey had purposefully made three-year-olds the upper age limit, not wanting to have bigger kids knocking over the littler ones. She’d assumed that most of the kids would be close to the upper number, figuring it was tougher for parents to keep toddlers occupied. But that hadn’t been accurate. It was the parents of infants who’d been going stir-crazy and really needed some adult interaction.

  Today, Lisbet was right in the middle of the age range, with three kids younger and three older. The older ones had a better idea of how to play with each other, and they’d settled into the big space behind the bar, sharing the toys their parents had brought. The babies were in the front, by the bar, where it was a little warmer.

  One dad, one mom, and Kathy sat at the bar, chatting like they’d just emerged from a month-long silent retreat. The kids, two of whom were just two and three months old, stayed in their car seats, which rested on the bar. Only Lisbet and a little boy named Colvin did anything close to play. They each sat on a blanket, surrounded by the pillows their adults had put down to support them, babbling at each other while shaking toys in the air. It really didn’t seem like they were interacting much, but every once in a while their eyes would meet and one or the other would scream. Even though she was used to it by now, they still sounded more like monkeys than babies to Casey. Not that she minded. Everyone was having fun, and socializing helped each parent from going mad. The Baby Brewers had a very modest goal, but she was confident they consistently surpassed it.

  ***

  Avery stood at the top of the stairs and called down when she heard a sharp rap on the frame of her door. “I’m coming, but it’s open.”

  Her mom popped in, holding a very curious baby. Her gaze moved all across the empty rooms, then hit the stairs as Avery was coming down. When their eyes met, she started to giggle.

  “There’s my baby girl,” Avery said, sticking her arms out and making her hands into pincers. “I can’t wait to get my hands on her.”

  She kissed her mother on the cheek as she enveloped Lisbet into a hug. “Did you girls have fun?”

  “I certainly did, and Lisbet didn’t complain.” She started to walk through the living room, then poked her head into the kitchen. “You can’t live like this,” she said, her expression grim.

  “I’ll get things. There’s no rush.”

  “Avery! You don’t have anywhere to sit, and you don’t have a table of any kind. No place to put a TV…”

  “Well, I’m not going to have a TV at all, so you can let that go. And Lisbet has her high chair, so she’s set. I’ll get some furniture soon.”

  “When?”

  “I’ve been checking out Craigslist and eBay. I just haven’t had a lot of spare time.”

  “Well, if you don’t have something by the end of the weekend, your father and I are going to load up his truck with our stuff.”

  “And what will you sit on?”

  “I’ll buy new things.” She scowled as she walked into the dining room, equally bare as the other spaces. “Speaking of which, I’ve got a crib on hold at the resale shop. I’m going to pick it up as soon as your father gets home.” She put her hand up to forestall any complaint, and when she spoke again she sounded weary. “Why were you in such a hurry to get into this place?”

  “I like it,” she said. “It’s a great space for working, and being away from Lisbet lets me concentrate better.”

  “Well, you’re going to be concentrating on my living room furniture if you don’t get your act in gear.” She kissed both her and Lisbet on the tops of their heads and walked out, grumbling to herself as she made her way to her new car.

  “Your grandma’s mad at us,” Avery said quietly. “Do you think it would have helped if she’d seen us sitting on the porch steps to eat our dinner? Bet not!”

  Chapter Eleven

  On Saturday morning, Avery woke from a deep sleep to Lisbet’s crying. On her feet and crossing the hallway in just a few seconds, she heard a difference in the cry. It didn’t seem like her “I’m starving” wail, and it was hours before she was due for a meal.

  “What’s wrong, Sweet Pea?” She picked her up and checked for all of the usual problems, but other than a soggy diaper, there wasn’t anything obviously wrong with her.

  “Hold on a minute,” she said. Placing the shrieking child back in her crib, Avery raced to the bathroom. She’d gotten her first postpartum period the night before, and it was a doozy. “I know you’re upset, sweetheart, but I’ll be upset if I bleed on the floor,” she called out.

  She’d only been gone for two minutes, but when she turned on the nightlight the baby’s face had turned as red as a beet, and she was thrashing around inconsolably.

  Avery’s only option was to hold and try to soothe the baby, but nothing worked. Lisbet willingly took her breast, but spit the nipple out in just seconds, crying even harder.

  “Oh, baby, I wish you could tell me what’s wrong,” she murmured. Lisbet was warm, but Avery was pretty sure that was from crying. Her onesie had been washed several times with the same soap, her diaper was the same kind she always wore, and she hadn’t added any new food to her diet. She was just furious about something, and didn’t have the words to tell Avery what that was.

  ***

  At seven, the baby still hadn’t cried herself out. Avery’s cramps had gotten worse, much worse than they’d been before she’d been pregnant. She’d spent an hour on the internet reading about other peoples’ babies who’d had similar episodes, and, as usual, there were fifty different reasons for the unexpected tears, with each person rock solid their solution to the problem was the perfect one.

  Having not slept well herself, Avery was just about at the end of her rope. When your baby cried for no reason it began to get under your skin, especially when you were feeling crappy and hormonal to start with.

  Lisbet was two hours past her usual breakfas
t, and she’d fought against even taking a bite of cereal or her favorite vegetables. Worried about her getting dehydrated, Avery tried to get her to take a little water, but she’d hated it, letting it run down her face as her wailing got even louder. Trying anything she could think of, Avery took off her onesie and her diaper, then covered a portion of the bed with a sheet of plastic and the softest towel she owned, thinking there might be something in her clothing or diaper that was irritating her. But even as she did it she knew it was a waste of time. Lisbet was woefully unhappy, not just mildly discomforted, and Avery’s only option at that point was to take her to an Urgent Care center. But that just seemed like it would make matters worse. With no fever, no rash, and no other signs of illness, what would they do? What could they do?

  Around ten o’clock Lisbet finally fell asleep, but she was fitful. She was still on Avery’s bed, a place she’d never been while asleep. But Avery reasoned it was all right if she watched her closely. No one in America paid more attention to the “babies should sleep alone in their cribs” motto than she did, but this was a special exception.

  Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and that tiny noise made Lisbet gasp and stare at her for half of a second, then start crying again.

  “Want to go look at furniture?” Casey texted. “I’ve got a lead.”

  Avery stared at Casey’s text for a few seconds. Her timing was usually impeccable, but today Avery wanted to throw the phone against the wall until it broke into a thousand pieces.

  “Bad day. I’ll text you if things change for the better.”

  As irritated as she was, Avery had to admit that Casey was her favorite kind of texter. She didn’t need to sign off or have the last word. If Avery said she’d call later, Casey dropped it. That alone gave her bonus points as a friend.

  “Okay, sweetheart, we’re going to go down our checklist one more time. Are you hungry? Yes. Will you eat? No. Are you thirsty? You have to be. Will you drink? No.” As she watched her shriek, Avery’s stomach began to ache. The stress of having Lisbet cry so hard and so long for no reason made her feel like she might vomit. For just a second, she let her mind wander to whether she’d still hear the baby if she put her in the basement or on the porch. The neighbors would definitely hear her on the porch, but the basement might work. Not for long… Just long enough for Avery to take a long, hot shower—

  She didn’t physically slap herself, but she did the mental equivalent. For the first time since she’d given birth, Avery knew she wasn’t in the right mental space to be alone with her baby. Instead of beating herself up over that, she picked up her phone and texted Casey.

  Close to a melt-down

  If you could put some earplugs in and keep an eye on L for a while…

  It took fewer than five seconds for Casey to write back.

  Six minutes

  Relief washed over Avery like a gentle wave. Casey would be there soon. Avery knew she could set her watch by the estimate. She went downstairs to unlock the door, then went back upstairs to plug in her breast pump and get it set up. She’d just started to pump when Casey knocked at the door. Hoping she’d try the knob, Avery listened carefully, able to feel the air change as the door opened. “Avery?”

  “Upstairs.”

  She heard Casey’s tread, and spoke loudly to drown out the baby. “I’m pumping, so avert your eyes if you don’t want to see something gross.”

  Casey stopped right in the doorway. “How long has she been crying?”

  “Since four. Pretty much nonstop. She won’t eat, and I have no idea why.” She had a little more to add, but her tears choked her words. “I’m out of patience.”

  Casey really had to speak loudly to be heard over the wailing. “It’s a beautiful day, and I bet Lisbet hasn’t explored much around here. I’ll take her for a walk. How’s that?”

  “Sounds great, but I can’t imagine it will work.”

  “Can I…” She cleared her throat. “Do you mind if I come in and pick her up?”

  “I was considering putting her in the basement, so…”

  Clearly going out of her way not to catch a peek, Casey entered the room and scooped Lisbet up. “She’s warm.”

  “Just from crying. She gets flushed and sweaty when she’s upset like this. That’s why I took her diaper off.” She took a breath, feeling a little better just having someone to talk to. “I’ll have fresh milk ready in ten or fifteen minutes…”

  “Poor baby,” Casey sighed, quickly exiting the room. Avery heard her start to walk in the hallway, soothing Lisbet as best she could. “Are you sure she doesn’t have a fever?”

  “There’s a thermometer in the bathroom medicine cabinet. Do you know how to use it?”

  “Um…do you put it under her tongue?”

  “Other end,” Avery said, almost smiling when she imagined the look on Casey’s face. “Her doctor told me to use a rectal thermometer until she was a little older. It’s more accurate.”

  “Ooo. That’s…”

  “Want me to do it? I really don’t think she has a fever, but if you’re worried…”

  “On second thought, who am I to doubt a mother’s judgment?” She poked her head into the room. “I’ll do it if you think it’s important, but that seems…icky.”

  “Welcome to my world. All icky, all the time.”

  “Let us get out of your hair. Do you have any milk in the fridge?”

  “Freezer. Do you know how to warm it?”

  “I do. I’m going to put her in her snuggly thing for our walk, okay?”

  “Did you bring earplugs?”

  “Didn’t have time. You sounded desperate.”

  “Hey, Casey?”

  She stuck her head in the room again, still not letting her gaze land on Avery.

  “Thanks a million. I’m so happy to have a friend I knew would race over here.”

  “We’ll be gone for at least an hour. Enough time for you to take a nap,” she ordered. “I’d close your curtains, but you don’t have any.”

  “I took down the old blinds, but haven’t gotten around to buying curtains. They rank at about number twenty on my long list of things I need.” She took in a calming breath. “Sleep is a solid number one.”

  ***

  At two o’clock, Avery woke with a start, disoriented, then panicked when her eyes landed on the towel-covered plastic on her bed. For a split second, she thought she’d fallen asleep with Lisbet next to her. Then she remembered that Casey had her, and her heart rate slowed down again. It took a minute to get her bearings, but eventually she allowed herself the delicious sensation of lying in bed, not worrying about a thing.

  She heard a shuffling sound, so she got up and started to go downstairs. Lisbet was sitting on the floor, playing with Casey, and both of them seemed delighted.

  “Oh, sure, soothe my baby when I couldn’t make any headway for hours. I’ll see myself out.”

  Casey turned to give her a sweet smile, clearly not minding being teased. “We missed you,” she said. “Lisbet especially.”

  Avery finished descending the stairs, then squatted down next to Lisbet, getting a smile and a giggle. “What magic did you work on this baby?”

  “Absolutely none. I took some milk out of the freezer, warmed it up, and she drank it like it was the best thing she’d ever had. Then I put her in her snuggly carrier, and by the time we were at the street, she was quiet. Hasn’t cried since.”

  “You little baby-monster,” Avery chided, tickling Lisbet’s leg. “You almost drove me to sticking you in the basement so I could have a minute’s peace.” She looked up at Casey. “She calmed down when you fed her?”

  “Uh-huh. Right away. She was famished.”

  “But she wouldn’t eat when I tried to nurse her.”

  “Is anything different? Did you eat anything weird? When we have a problem with a batch of beer we eliminate anything that’s new or different to isolate the problem.”

  “Nothing,” Avery said. “I mean, I took some ib
uprofen before I went to bed last night, but my doctor assures me that very little of it passes into breast milk.”

  “That’s not something you take all the time, right?”

  “Mmm, no. I took it for days after I gave birth, but that might be the only time.”

  “Well, that might be it. Maybe it made your breast milk taste funny.”

  Avery stared at her for a minute. “Will you look something up for me?”

  “Sure. What.”

  “Look up if getting your period makes your milk taste different. I got mine yesterday for the first time since I gave birth.” She pulled Lisbet over to her by tugging on her legs playfully. The baby normally liked to have Avery scoot her around that way, and she giggled as she moved. “Want a snack, sweetheart?”

  It wasn’t her usual schedule, but Lisbet usually didn’t mind nursing for a few minutes just about any time. Avery pulled her shirt up, then teased the baby with her nipple. She latched on immediately, but as soon as she got a little she spit the nipple out and made a face. “Don’t bother looking it up,” Avery said, slapping herself on the head. “It’s the taste. If she likes the packs in the freezer, but won’t take it when it’s fresh, we have our answer.”

  “I’ve got confirmation,” Casey said. She met Avery’s gaze, looking a little sheepish. “It says most babies don’t notice the difference, but some do. I think Lisbet has a very well-developed sense of taste.”

  “Now what do I do? I’m having the period from hell, and my baby’s on strike against the only plant that makes her favorite food.”

  “How much do you have in the freezer?”

  “Mmm. About six packs. I’ve got more than that at my mom’s, though.”

  “Looks like you’re going to have to use your supply, and hope it goes back to normal after your period’s over.”

  “Fantastic,” Avery grumbled.

  “Well, she seems happy now, and you look a lot better. I think we can hit the road.”