Friday Night Flights

by Susan X Meagher

  She put her hand on Lisbet’s head, smoothing down the few long strands of her mostly wispy hair. “Tell your mommy to stop being such a whiner, will you? Casey’s helping out a young woman who has no idea what she’s getting into, and a nice person would be touched by her generosity.” She patted the baby again when she stretched and shivered. “That’s my girl. Time to wake up, sleepy-head. You’re going to go to your first big party today. Just please don’t throw a fit when you realize I’ve given almost all of your toys away. We’ll replace them, one at a time. Or maybe we’ll do what Casey says to do and just give you boxes to play in. The world could use a lot less plastic, you know.”

  ***

  At dinner that night, Avery cooked while her mom and Casey sat at the kitchen table, regaling her with Baby Brewers gossip. It was hard to keep up, since Avery hadn’t been able to attend a single meeting, so she didn’t have faces to go with the names. But they seemed like a very tight-knit group. She wasn’t sure how Tara would fit in, given that the others seemed to regard her as a child, but they’d probably start treating her differently once she gave birth.

  “So? Was Tara thrilled by all of the presents you two brought?”

  “We just gave her hand-me-downs,” her mom said. “Well, Casey bought her something, but the rest of us just loaded her up with everything we weren’t using any longer.”

  “What did you buy her, Casey?”

  She slid off her chair to hold Lisbet’s shape-sorting box. The baby loved to play with it very roughly, and it drove her crazy when she had to chase it around the room.

  Casey shrugged, looking, to Avery’s eye, a little embarrassed. “I spent some time looking on the internet, and I got a couple of things I thought she might not know about.”

  “Like…?”

  “Um, I got her a nice nursing pillow, and three swaddling wraps. Thin ones for summer.”

  “Three?” Avery asked, turning to meet her gaze.

  “One to use, one in the laundry, and one for emergencies. Lisbet was already six months old when I met her, but she was still spitting up a lot. I assume that’s worse when they’re right out of the oven.” She smiled, looking up at Avery. “I can’t wait to find out.”

  “Tara hit the lottery when she showed up at Baby Brewers,” Avery said, unable to observe the goofy look on Casey’s face for another second. Lisbet wasn’t even able to speak yet, and Casey was throwing her over for the new kid in town.

  ***

  Casey was goofing off on Saturday afternoon, trying to decide how to spend her evening. She had a couple of options, but the most attractive one was to go down to East Fishkill with some of her co-workers to check out a brewery that had just relocated to a former IBM factory. But even though she wanted to go, she didn’t want to drive. Part of the fun of going to a brewery was hanging out in the tasting room, but drinking and driving didn’t mix. She was tempted to ask Avery to go, and drive, but that hardly seemed fair. Avery really liked beer, and had a pretty well-developed appreciation of it. Visiting a tasting room would be a lot more fun when someone else drove, but she didn’t know anyone who’d be up for it except Kathy, and the poor woman deserved a night off.

  Her other option was to go to a birthday party for a woman she’d known in college. That had the potential of being fun, but she only knew the guest of honor. While she wasn’t shy, she didn’t always like being around a large group of strangers. So going to the brewery with her work friends might be more fun, even if she had to make a single pint last all night.

  It was only four, so she had time to make up her mind. Heading back to bed, she found the audio book of short stories by Lorrie Moore that Avery had lent her. She was about halfway through one of her favorites when her phone rang. Not many people called, so she took a peek at the display, seeing it was Tara. She answered quickly. “Hi, there. You don’t have a baby yet, do you?”

  “God, no. Don’t rush me. Even though I’m ready to not be pregnant, I’m not ready to have a baby in the house.”

  “I think they come when they come, but I’m sure you’re up to the challenge.”

  “Maybe. But I’m not up to assembling the crib I bought.”

  “You’re not?” Casey teased. “A lesbian who can’t use a ratcheting screwdriver? Are you sure you’re gay?”

  “I’m as gay as they come. But the UPS guy was sweating when he got the thing into the apartment. It weighs a hundred and seven pounds, and he had to wrestle it up the stairs all alone. When he got to my apartment, he dropped it flat on the floor, and I can’t even get it onto its side.”

  “I’ll swing by and give you a hand. I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow.”

  “Ahh…don’t worry about it. If I still need help, I’ll give you a call.”

  “Um, why wouldn’t you need help?”

  She laughed a little. “Because I’m going to do it myself. I might not be able to get up once I get down on the floor, but my apartment isn’t very big, and it annoys me to have this huge thing taking up most of my living room.”

  Casey smiled, thinking that was exactly how she’d be if she were in the same situation. “What are you doing right now?”

  “Now? I’m trying to convince myself to ignore this huge box. Why?”

  “Because I can come over now, but I’ve got to be somewhere at seven. Text me your address. I’ll be there in a half hour.”

  “Ooo, now I feel like I guilt-tripped you into helping.”

  “You did,” Casey said, chuckling. “But I don’t mind. Text me that address, and stay off the floor!”

  ***

  Tara lived on the other side of the Hudson, so Casey had to cross the Rip Van Winkle to get to the west side of the river. But she didn’t have to backtrack too much, and was at Tara’s apartment complex by five. After buzzing at the entry gates, Tara’s voice came over the intercom, then the gate opened slowly. The complex looked pretty nice, and was brand new. But Casey knew enough about construction to assume they’d slapped it together quickly and cheaply. If the walls were as poorly insulated as she guessed, the neighbors would go through the pain of the baby’s infanthood with none of the pleasure.

  She took the stairs up to the second floor, then turned left when Tara opened her door.

  “Hi there,” Casey said, starting to laugh when she had to jump over a huge box that lay on the floor. “Seriously? The guy just dropped it here and took off?”

  “He didn’t drop it, exactly. He pushed it. I don’t think he could carry it another inch, so he shoved it over the threshold and ran away before I could say a word.”

  “I thought people went out of their way to be nice to pregnant women.” She took a look at Tara’s belly, which had turned ginormous in the last month. “Maybe he couldn’t tell.”

  “Not funny! Didn’t anyone ever tell you pregnant women were emotional messes? You don’t want to make me cry.”

  “No, I really don’t,” Casey said, gentling her voice. “I want to give you a hand. I brought a few tools, so let me get right to it.”

  “Do you need help? I’m very good at reading instruction booklets.”

  Casey put her fingertips under the box and picked it up an inch. Then she slid her hands underneath and gave it a yank. “Whoa!” she said, nearly losing it. “Heavy!”

  “I told you what it weighed.” She pointed at the label on the side, colored a very bright safety orange. “What do you think ‘exceeds one hundred pounds’ means?”

  “I think it means it’s heavy,” Casey admitted. “But the arrows clearly say to open it on the side, and I thought it would be easier to cut the box open when I had some leverage.” She pulled out her utility knife and carefully cut along the seam. “Yes, I’m being careful,” she said. “I can see the other sign saying not to use a knife. But I’m not going to pry those staples off. That’ll take forever.” She lowered the box back to the floor and slit it down both sides. “Wa la,” she said as she pulled the top away.

  “Ooo. You speak French,” T
ara teased.

  Casey stared at her for a minute. “That’s French?”

  “Um, yeah. What did you think—”

  “Huh.” She put her hands on her hips, thinking. “I thought it was some kind of nonsense word. How do you spell it?”

  “V-o-i-l-a.”

  Casey started to laugh. “Are you shitting me? There’s a ‘V’? I thought it was w-a-l-a. I’m glad I’ve never had to write that down at work. My crew doesn’t need any more ammo to tease me with.”

  “Spelling’s kind of hard,” Tara said. “We’ve got too many other languages we borrowed from.”

  Laughing again, Casey said, “Avery says English is three languages stacked on top of each other, wearing a trench coat so they look like one.” Still chuckling to herself, she took out the instructions, just one sheet, with no words, just basic diagrams with each part labeled by number. “If you can tell me which part goes where, we’ll have this thing whipped into shape in no time.”

  “I think I can,” Tara said. She stuck the tip of her tongue out, which made her look like a pre-schooler who was trying to teach herself to read. Casey watched her for a minute, having never spent much time just checking her out. But it was impossible not to notice how cute Tara was. Not in a brainy, sexy, maternal way like Avery, of course. More of a sporty lesbian who’d pop out a kid, then get right back to softball practice. Tara’s kind of androgyny had always been a turn-on for Casey, and she had to remind herself that gawping at an eight-months-pregnant woman was kind of pervy. She wasn’t really sure why she thought that, though. Maybe nature gave you a built-in aversion to mixing sexy thoughts with pregnant women.

  She watched Tara figuring out the diagram, and tried to imagine what she’d looked like pre-pregnancy. Casey noticed some framed photos on the wall, and moved over to check them out. Yup. There was a good shot of Tara whipping a ball across the infield. She didn’t look like anyone’s mama when she was hiking up a pretty impressive hill, wearing just a sports bra and really short shorts. But she was going to be someone’s mom in just a couple of weeks, and that baby needed a bed, or he’d be sleeping in a cardboard box in the middle of the floor.

  ***

  It took nearly an hour to get the right dowels into the right holes, tighten up fourteen screws, and check the whole thing for any rough spots or weaknesses. “Now all you need is a mattress. Sold separately, of course.”

  “It’ll be here on Monday. And I’m going to try to talk the delivery guy into putting it into the crib. I’ll work on looking helpless.”

  “He won’t buy it,” Casey said. “You look super confident.”

  “Depends on the day,” she said, shrugging as she blushed slightly. “How about dinner? I was going to make myself some macaroni and cheese, and I’ll have plenty to go around.”

  “Um…” Casey didn’t really have a good reason to refuse, so she nodded. “Sure. That’ll be nice. I’m going to check out a brewery later, but I don’t have to be on time.”

  “Great!” Tara gave her such a big smile Casey felt bad for even thinking about refusing. “Come on into the kitchen.”

  “I think I’ll move the crib into the bedroom first. Do you know where you want it?”

  “There isn’t a lot of room in my bedroom, so…wherever it fits. Need me to help push?”

  “Nah. You’ll be pushing soon enough. I can handle it.”

  Tara patted her on the back, then left to make dinner. The crib didn’t fit easily into the room, since it was only about ten by twelve, but if Tara only used the left side of her bed, she’d be fine.

  When Casey went into the kitchen, Tara was making a white sauce. There were two stools near a breakfast bar, and Casey pulled one out to sit. “Have you been cooking a lot?”

  “Pretty much. It’s a lot less expensive, and I can usually eat more balanced meals if I cook at home. Not that macaroni and cheese is very healthy, but I had nothing but vegetables for lunch.”

  “I think you’re doing great. Not many people I know would take on this responsibility alone. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

  “Eh…” She shrugged. “To be honest, I should have worked harder on getting my parents to come around. They were just starting to get used to me being gay, then I did this.” She turned and showed a sad smile. “My timing kind of sucked, but I’m not great at waiting.”

  “I’m the same way. That trait has come back to bite me in the butt a few times, but I can’t say it’s taught me patience.”

  “You know, I’ve got a friend who’s my birth coach,” she said, having turned around to stir the sauce again, “but the people at the hospital suggested I have a back-up. I was going to ask my mom, but I’m sure she’d refuse.” She looked over her shoulder and briefly met Casey’s eyes. “Any chance you’d…”

  “Me? A birth coach?” Casey was staring at her, trying to figure out what signals she’d given off to make Tara think they were that close.

  “Well, my friend Gretchen would be the one doing the job. You’d just be a backup if she was sick or something…” She took in a long breath. “Um, I know we’re not that close, Casey, but I kind of thought we might get closer.”

  She was studiously stirring the sauce, and Casey could see that the back of her neck had gotten pink. Shit! She got up and walked over to stand next to the stove so Tara had to look at her. “Do you mean romantically?”

  “Um…maybe? Bad idea?” She looked up at Casey, and for just a second she could imagine herself slipping right into Tara’s life. She was kind of perfect in a lot of ways; attractive, independent, confident, and a jock. Casey had noticed she didn’t have books lying around the house, having filled her bookcases with everything from roller blades to ski boots. Dating a fellow jock would be kind of awesome. Not to mention getting in on the ground floor of baby creation. She’d always been fascinated by the birth process, and getting to see it up close and personal was damned tempting.

  But then she thought of Avery, who was unlike Tara in almost every way. But Casey couldn’t even try to argue that she wasn’t fascinated by her. Avery had cast her spell early on, and Casey hadn’t been able to resist it, even though she hadn’t had the nerve to put herself out there and ask for what she wanted.

  It made no damn sense, but Avery was the one. Or the two, when you added Lisbet to the mix. And those two were so much better than one.

  “Um…” Casey sucked in a breath and told the truth. “I’m really interested in Lisbet’s mom. I kind of wish I wasn’t, but I am. And until I know what’s going on between us, I’m just not available.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  On the last Thursday in April, Avery and Faith spent over six hours together at Faith’s home, finalizing the editing on the stories for their first reading, scheduled for the first Wednesday in June. Avery was feeling pretty good about the first event, partially since it was going to be held in a big tent at Bard, her Alma Mater. She hadn’t even had to call in any favors to secure the venue, which was a bonus. Bard was invested in the series because of the content, not merely to do a favor for a graduate.

  Visions of happy listeners and happy writers communing under the tent on a warm June evening gave her a thrill, one even more satisfying than her original program in Brooklyn had provided. That was probably because she’d had remarkable freedom to do this one her way. Being over a hundred miles from the home office had been a very nice circumstance when you had a vision and needed no hand-holding.

  It was well after three, and even though she had a million things to work on, she had an even greater desire to see what this Baby Brewers thing was all about. Both her mom and Casey acted like it was the highlight of their weeks, but Avery had never been able to get away to attend.

  When she got into her car, she fought with her conscience for just a minute, quickly deciding she deserved a little playtime. So she plugged in her phone, cranked up the music, rolled the window down a little to smell the scent of spring, and started to head south.

  By the
time she arrived, it was almost four. The stated meeting time was from three to five, but for the last few weeks her mom hadn’t gotten home until after six. Everyone was still getting used to the lengthening days, along with the warmer afternoons, and her mom reported it was almost impossible to pull Lisbet away from her little friends now that they were sometimes playing outside.

  When Avery pulled up close to the Pub, she saw some toddlers stumbling around in the grass, but Lisbet wasn’t in sight. She poked her head inside, and in a matter of seconds Lisbet saw her, began to giggle, and scrambled over so fast she almost made sparks. The baby was able to walk quite well now, but she was still unstable on uneven surfaces. She sometimes walked almost like an older kid, but it was just as common for her to walk on her toes, looking like she was at risk for falling over face-first with every step.

  Avery’s heart swelled as she squatted down and extended her arms, waiting for Lisbet. There were definitely highs to be found in many of life’s experiences, but having your baby show how stunningly happy she was to unexpectedly see you had to be near the top of the list.

  “Lisbet,” she crooned. “I’ve missed you so much!”

  For the last few feet of her journey, Lisbet stopped fighting gravity and flung her body into Avery’s embrace.

  “I think she likes you,” Casey said, wandering over with a big smile on her face.

  Avery looked up and nearly swallowed her tongue. Casey always looked pretty darned good, but every once in a while she pinged on Avery’s attraction radar in a big, big way.

  Most people wouldn’t have noticed anything different from her regular look. Casey had been at work, so she was dressed very casually. But it was almost seventy degrees, and very warm in the Pub, given that the structure was, in fact, a repurposed greenhouse, made specifically to attract heat.

  The interior of the plant was often hot when they were brewing, so Casey had obviously been expecting a warm day, wearing a chambray shirt whose sleeves had been cut off, along with khaki shorts. Her hair was back in a ponytail, and it poked through the hole in the back of her Kaaterskill Brewery baseball cap. She’d probably had on her usual steel-toed work-boots, but she’d obviously decided summer was here, since she’d removed them, along with her socks, now wandering around the straw-covered floor barefoot.