“Road? What road are we hitting?”
“My mom told me where to find good, cheap furniture. You’re going to have at least a sofa and a kitchen table before this day is over.” She stood, then bent over and picked Lisbet up. “Maybe we can go by and get the rest of your favorite food while we’re at it, Lisbet. I know where the Fort Knox of breastmilk is, and one of your other favorite people is the head guard.”
***
Lisbet rode in peaceful silence in the high-end car seat Casey had borrowed, seeming exactly like the happy, calm child she’d been the day before. Avery stroked her leg, saying, “I scared myself this afternoon. Having the instinct, even briefly, of putting her somewhere that I couldn’t hear her shook me.”
“I’m glad you called. Really glad.” Casey looked in the rearview mirror to meet Avery’s eyes. “I want you to promise that you’ll call next time it happens. It doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night. Really,” she stressed.
“I will. I would have called my mom, but she was out with her scout troop and I didn’t want to worry her when she was stuck somewhere.”
“I’m not worried. At all. You did the right thing, even though I’m going to bet you didn’t want to call.”
“I truly didn’t want to call. But my instinct to protect Lisbet kicked in. Even when it’s me I have to protect her from, the instinct is still there.” She shivered at the thought, but put words to it anyway. “I used to be so judgmental about people who shake their babies. I mean, obviously it’s horribly wrong, but if you didn’t have a good grip on your emotions, you could easily get to the point where you absolutely lost it. Having a baby cry and cry and cry can push you past the edge.”
“Maybe she cried because she’s sick of living in an empty house,” Casey said, with Avery able to see the teasing glint in her eyes when she glanced at the mirror.
“Yeah, that’s probably it. Or maybe she misses Brooklyn like hell and is super bummed that we’re still here.”
“I know that wasn’t it! There isn’t a baby in the world who’d prefer Brooklyn over the Hudson Valley. That place was designed to shake a baby’s nerves.”
“I swear Carroll Gardens is a quiet neighborhood. Damn, compared to the apartment I had before the one you saw, it was like a tomb.” She laughed a little. “I can’t imagine how much you would have hated the previous place.”
“I hated the place I saw.” She smiled. “Well, I hated it mostly because it was on the third floor, but still…”
“I know. Your delicate ears can’t put up with city noise.”
“I didn’t think to ask at the time, but why didn’t we move your bed? Not that we had much room in the trunk.”
“I decided to give it to Freya to show her I hold no hard feelings. It was one of those mattresses they deliver to your apartment in a stunningly small box. It was comfortable enough, but having my old box spring is so much better. When I’m at my parents’, I’ll use the sofa. It’s fine.”
Casey didn’t reply, but Avery could see her shaking her head, looking adorably puzzled at the thought of having the UPS guy dump a box of mattress in the lobby.
***
Casey stood in front of a used sofa, certain she hated it, and equally certain that Avery should buy it. “I’ll agree it’s ass ugly, but it’s big enough for two adults, it doesn’t smell bad, and I think it might be indestructible. For a hundred bucks, you can’t go wrong.”
“I’ve never even seen a sofa like this. It looks like it should be in one of those hotels in the Poconos. The ones with the heart-shaped hot tubs.”
Casey scratched her head, having trouble even describing the sofa. It was vaguely oval, with a footstool that tucked into the curve in the center. Was there such a thing as a kidney-bean shaped sofa? She ran her hand over the fabric, which was so nubby it might have snagged a silk shirt. But she was sure it would hold up to anything Lisbet threw at it—literally. “I think it’s the right choice. It’s super firm, so you and Lisbet could nap on it together when she’s a little older.”
“The fabric will chafe her skin!”
“Then put a throw over it.” She pulled Avery away from the clerk, who was lurking around like a vulture. “It’s cheap and smells fine. I think it’s the best we’re going to get. If we take the kitchen table and chairs, too, I bet we can get her to knock fifty bucks off.”
Avery rolled her eyes. “If you can get everything for fifty bucks less, I’m sold. But if that thing spontaneously combusts, I’m coming after you!”
***
The polyester pod, as it had been dubbed, was situated under the window in the living room, with the table and chairs happily resting in the kitchen. The place still looked like a transient hotel, but they’d made progress. Casey sat down on a chair, scowling when it creaked under her weight. She got up, turned the chair over, and inspected it by yanking hard on the legs. “These rungs are a little loose. I’ll tighten them up for you.”
“Is there a lever you turn?”
Casey gazed at her for a second. For a woman whose dad was an appliance repairman, she hadn’t picked up one practical trait. “Um, no. I’ll take them apart, sand out the joints, and glue them back together. Tightening up our dining rooms chairs was one of the first projects I ever took on.”
“Were you still in diapers?” Avery asked, laughing.
“Nope. And I didn’t get paid, now that I think of it, but I was proud of myself for doing it right. Those babies are still solid all these years later.”
“If it’s easy, just tell me how. I’m pretty handy.”
“Do you have a dead blow hammer?”
“Um, no.”
“Clamps to hold the chair together while the glue dries?”
“Do I look like a woman who has clamps?”
Casey stopped herself from saying something inappropriate. A nursing mother probably wouldn’t think nipple clamps were funny, anyway. “No, you do not. I’ve got all the stuff, so I’ll do it. Won’t take long.” She started for the door. “I’ll run by my house and get the tools. Want me to pick up dinner?”
“Um… How do I refuse out of politeness, but accept out of hunger?”
Casey smiled at her. “I’ll bring dinner. What’s your favorite kind of food?”
“Mmm. Thai, Japanese, Mexican, Italian, Chinese. I like Korean a lot, but I’d be surprised to find it around here.”
“I’ll let you know when a good Korean spot opens up. Until then, stay hungry and think Italian. I’ll be back in an hour.”
***
At eight o’clock, Avery was pleasantly full, the remnants of her linguini with clams still bringing a smile to her face. Her Windsor chairs were decorated with enough clamps to prevent them from ever wobbling once the glue set, and sitting on the weird sofa wasn’t half bad. Since the sofa was curved, her and Casey’s feet were much closer together than their bodies were, but that made conversing quite comfortable. She pointed at Casey’s Doc Marten’s, saying, “Are those from high school?”
“Much newer. I still dress like I did then, but I replace things as they wear out.”
Not for the first time, Avery took a quick glance at Casey’s whole look. It was pretty much early twenty-first century lesbian gear. A blue tank top covered by a blue and green flannel shirt, stiff, dark jeans, and her big boots. She even wore a braided leather cuff on one wrist, and a smooth leather one on the other, something that Avery currently saw on young guys in Brooklyn. Her hair was down, and Avery marveled at how lucky Casey was to be gifted with such perfect locks. There was just a little wave to the dark, glossy strands. It always looked good, so she probably didn’t even have to spend time trying to get it to behave.
Any way you sliced it, she was a young lesbian’s dream. Tall, strong, and determined, but very, very gentle. The problem, and it was definitely a problem, was that in all of their time together Avery had never gotten even a hint that Casey spent any time looking at her in the same very fond way she was currently devoting to Case
y. Which was just a little hurtful. It was hard to feel attractive when your breasts leaked, you were carrying around extra weight, and your body was a long way from looking like it had only two years earlier. But to have a single lesbian who desperately wanted to be parenting a child sitting right next to you and you while treating you like a sister? That was a real slap in the face.
Chapter Twelve
On Sunday morning, after a late breakfast with her mom, Casey took a football and headed for the portion of the yard out behind the pool. She didn’t play around with her kicking very often, but hockey season was starting soon, and she wanted to develop a little stamina in her legs.
They had a lot of land, most of it covered by thin trees. They were tall, over sixty feet, and planted close together. Actually, she guessed they hadn’t technically been planted at all. They were probably the result of blown-in seeds after this land had been reclaimed for housing. There was still farming in the area, a good amount of it, but nothing like there had been in the nineteenth century when her father’s family had settled in Columbia County. And the seventeenth century Gerritsens wouldn’t recognize a single thing.
Her work-out plan was, admittedly, odd, but she loved to kick. Having no one to kick to, and having a strong leg, she would have spent her whole time chasing after the ball if she went to an open field. So she kicked into the trees, not getting a lot of distance, but liking to watch the ball careen around before landing not too far away.
Squaring her shoulders, she took two steps, then dropped the ball with both hands as she thrust her right leg forward, feeling the thump on the top of her foot. A smile settled onto her face when she felt the stretch in her hamstring. When she was kicking well, it felt like her foot hit the ball the moment she dropped it.
A tree about twenty feet away shivered when the ball hit it, then dropped straight down. She ran to catch it and give it another kick, smiling like a kid. She was committed to the hockey team, but she’d join a football team in a second if anyone was looking for a thirty-six year old woman punter.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
The booming voice shattered Casey’s reverie. Feeling like a scolded child, she ran to pick up her ball and walk over to the edge of the trees, where her father stood. His hands were on his hips, and his face bore a common expression. One that said, “I don’t understand you at all.” But he rarely expressed himself that way, usually sticking to sarcasm. “Can you take a break from destroying my landscape to help me winterize the pool?”
Ignoring the unsubtle jibe, she said, “So soon? I was thinking of using it this afternoon.”
“I’m not going to pay to heat it any more, and I’ve got time today. Let’s go.” He turned to walk away, with her following behind. He paid next to nothing for heat, since he had a full array of solar panels on the roof, but arguing with him was a complete waste of her time. And one thing she truly hated was to waste her time doing something that would only frustrate her.
***
Several hours later, Casey lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, relaxing as she let her mind drift. Neither of her parents understood her fondness for doing nothing, but she’d always been a fan. She didn’t need to read, or listen to music, or anything, really. It made her happy to simply rest and daydream.
Her phone rang, and she rolled over to catch it. “Hey, buddy-boy,” she said when she saw that it was Ben. “What’s going on?”
“Julie took Benji to a birthday party, so I’ve got the night free. Want to get a burger?”
“Umm, sure. But why aren’t you at the party? I thought those things were full of parents.”
“They usually are, but this is one of his girlfriends from school. She’s having her party at one of those pottery places, and they had to wait until the store closed to get a good deal on the place.”
“You didn’t want to make a mug with your name on it?”
“Burger? Final offer.”
“Love to. When and where?”
“Wanna head down to Dutchess? It’s far, but I really like the owner of a place in Fishkill. He’s on the verge of carrying our stuff, and I thought you could show off a little. Astound him with your knowledge.”
“You’re driving?”
“You are. You’ve got to be sober to have an intelligent conversation about beer, so you should only have one. As the dopey distribution guy, I can drink until I fall off my stool.”
“You can have two,” Casey decided. “If I have to drive to Fishkill, I don’t want you snoring on the way home. I’ll be by to pick you up in twenty. Wear a normal shirt.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, switching off. If she let him, he’d wear a T-shirt everywhere. That was fine most of the time, but she liked the Kaaterskill Brewery reps to look like they had a touch of class.
Ben walked down his driveway as soon as she tooted her horn. He wore a blue plaid shirt, along with a pair of dark blue chinos. When he opened the door, she wolf-whistled at him. “Look at the handsome man,” she said, laying it on thick.
“You look good too. We look like we actually make beer, rather than just drink a lot of it.” He buckled his seatbelt and used the buttons on the side of the seat to ease it back. “Good weekend?”
“Ehh. I’m kind of depressed,” she said, not meaning it literally. “I helped my dad winterize the pool, so I’ve got to admit summer’s over.”
“Don’t remind me. Benji’s last tournament is next weekend. Then he’s got to start working on his basketball skills. Why couldn’t I have a kid who wanted to sit on his butt and play video games?” he asked, laughing a little. “I’d save a mint.”
“Poor you. You’ll be watching baseball, while I’m at the Octoberfest they’re trying to get started in Beacon.”
“You really should go to that. There’s some money behind that one, and it’s supposed to be big.”
“Oh, I’m going. I don’t want to, but I’m going. Then I’m going to the craft brewers conference in the city in October. That’ll take up a whole week. Octoberfest ruins my whole month.”
“Don’t pout. Festivals bring in new customers. Especially when people can talk to the brewmaster.”
Casey laughed. “I know that, but I hate to lose my weekends. Even if I go to something that’s fun, it’s still work. And I need my days off to enjoy my job. That’s just my thing.”
“You need your chill time. No doubt.” She could see him gazing at the side of her face. “I think you’re just pissed you won’t be able to spend all of your free time with the zygote.”
“She’s a little past that. Actually, she impressed me yesterday by showing she has exquisitely sensitive tastebuds. There was a tiny change in her diet because of something minor, and the kid refused to nurse. I had to go over there when Lisbet cried so hard for so long Avery didn’t trust herself to be alone with her. She was hanging on by a thread.”
“Casey!” His eyes had gotten as wide as they were capable of getting. “You can’t be her go-to girl every time she has a tough day. You’ll be over there constantly!”
“Will not,” she said, starting to get annoyed. “She’s got her mom for most stuff. But she was really struggling, Ben, and she knew I could get there faster than anyone else. I was very glad she called, and if she gets into a bad place again, I want her to do the same thing.”
“I’m sorry, Case, but I don’t get it. I’ll admit she seemed really nice when I met her, as well as cute, but you don’t fully trust her, you don’t want to get into her pants, and you’ve got nothing in common. What’s the draw?”
“Lisbet,” she said, confident about the strength of the connection she felt. “I mean…” She took in a breath and let the thought form in her head. “I know I’m not exactly old, and it’s possible I’ll meet someone tomorrow. But this might be my last shot at being involved in a baby’s life. I don’t want to miss this, Ben. I just don’t.”
“You’re really serious? You’re certain you’re more into the baby than the baby mama?�
�
“One hundred percent.” She let herself think back to the previous afternoon. “When I picked up that screaming baby, I was pretty sure she was sick. I mean, she was throwing an absolute fit! Avery said she’d been crying since before dawn, which just isn’t like her. But I fed her, put her into the carrier that straps her close to my chest, and we started to walk. By the time we reached the street, she’d settled down, and when I reached down to wipe some of the tears from her eyes she tilted her little head up and we had… It sounds silly, but we had a real connection. She knew I was going to take care of her, and it meant so much to know she trusted me.” Unexpectedly, her eyes filled with tears and she hurriedly wiped them away. “I know I’m a big dope, but that touched me.”
“Aww, damn, Casey. I’ll ask Julie to have another baby and give it to you. You’d be the best mom in the world.”
That made her laugh, and she felt her mood lighten slightly. “Knowing Julie, she wouldn’t be great at the ‘give the baby away’ part of that plan.”
“I want you to have that bond,” Ben said, appearing much more serious than normal. “I really do. And if you think this might be a once-in-a-lifetime thing, then I’m glad you’re doing it.”
“I am too. This is working out great for me.” She let out a wry laugh. “As my dad says, I’m always looking for the easy way out, and there’s no easier way to raise a baby than to have someone else give birth, house, feed, and clothe her.”
***
On Monday afternoon, Casey dropped off the baked goods at her uncle’s restaurant, then took a quick swing by Kathy’s to see how Lisbet was doing. Casey wasn’t sure how much milk Avery had stored, but she guessed it was getting low. While this issue clearly wasn’t her responsibility, she’d thought about it at least twenty times during the day, and knew it would be on her mind that night if she didn’t know the status of the supply.
It was a warm afternoon, and the front door was open, with the slanting sun streaming into the living room. She put her hand up to knock, then heard Lisbet start to babble excitedly. Casey peered inside, seeing Kathy on the floor in front of the baby, who was playing with a large assortment of kitchen bowls, measuring cups, and storage containers. The baby had a red plastic cup in her right hand, and she threw it a surprising distance while she stared at Casey.
Friday Night Flights Page 23
