Breaking the Seventh

by Allie Gail

  Jeremy Elliott Becker

  Date: Friday, June 30th

  Time: 10:43p.m.

  Weight: 6 lbs, 10 ozs.

  Length: 20 inches

  Rapping twice on the door, I push it open and go on inside, dodging a nurse in blue scrubs who is on her way out. Shane is pacing back and forth, holding the sleeping baby against his shoulder while Melanie is sitting up in bed, making faces at a lunch tray.

  “Hiya, Mellybean,” I greet her cheerfully. “Hey, Butthead.”

  “Brat.” There are wisps of dark hair coming loose from Shane’s ponytail, and his clothes are wrinkled from being slept in, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look happier. Well, maybe at his wedding. He was practically walking on air that day. Those two are so in love it’s a little sickening.

  I would give anything to have someone be that sick about me.

  “Your mom sent you some clean clothes and a toothbrush,” I announce, dropping the tote in an empty chair. Melanie’s bag had been packed and ready for weeks but in our haste to leave, Shane didn’t have a chance to grab anything.

  “Awesome. Thanks.”

  “There’s deodorant in there, too. Feel free to use it.”

  “What? I still smell better than you.”

  “Doubt that, kangaroo queef.” Sitting on the edge of the bed beside Melanie, I pass her the bag from the gift shop. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “I did. Jeremy woke up twice during the night to be fed, but I don’t think that’s bad at all for a newborn. He went right back to sleep, too.” Poking through the tissue paper, she smiles gratefully. “Ooh, chocolate! You know me too well. Thank you.”

  “How are you feeling?” It amazes me that she looks like nothing ever happened. Back to her usual gorgeous self, all pink-cheeked and smiling. A vast improvement over last night, when she was ashen as a corpse and doubled over in pain. And certainly a lot better than I think I’d look if I just pushed an entire human being out of my hoo-hoo.

  They’d have to sedate me through the whole thing. I just know it.

  “Oh, I feel great.” She says that, sure, but I don’t miss the way she winces when shifting positions. “Did you come by yourself? Where’s Hank and Louise?”

  “They’re coming later this afternoon. Louise made Daddy take her shopping so she could get some more stuff for the baby.”

  “Are you serious?” Melanie laughs incredulously. “What on earth is she buying – he doesn’t need anything else! He’s got enough outfits now, he’ll probably outgrow them before he can ever wear them all. You were at the shower. You know.”

  “I know,” I agree, shrugging. She’s right. I helped her decorate the nursery one weekend back in March, and even then it was already wall-to-wall baby stuff. And that was before the baby shower. The kid won’t be lacking for anything, that’s for sure.

  Picking up her fork, she pokes at an unpalatable-looking blob that’s congealing on her tray. It sort of resembles turkey with gravy, if you were to squint your eyes and use your imagination. There isn’t a single thing there that looks appetizing, unless you like runny mashed potatoes, limp green peas and cubes of red Jell-O.

  “Is someone in the cafeteria mad at you?” I joke, wrinkling my nose.

  “I’m starting to wonder. They offered to bring Shane a tray, but he took one look at mine and told them thanks, but no thanks. Breakfast was even worse than this, if you can imagine.”

  Angling myself to face my brother, I stretch out my arms and waggle my fingers. “Okay, it’s my turn. Hand him over. Gimme.”

  He brings the sleeping bundle to me and gently places it in my arms. “Careful,” he says, as if I was planning on slinging him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  “I know how to hold a baby, dummy.”

  “Just be careful! Make sure you support his head.”

  Cradling Jeremy in one arm, I automatically reach up to smooth his gossamer black hair. I’ve never felt anything so soft in all my life. He purses his teensy lips as if trying to suckle in his sleep, but doesn’t wake up.

  “Why don’t you run into town and pick up some lunch for you guys,” I suggest to Shane. “I’ll keep Melanie company. From the looks of that, she needs something to eat that didn’t fall out of the back of a garbage truck.”

  Winding his fingers around a lock of her sable hair, he leans down to press a kiss against her forehead. “That’s not a bad idea. Okay with you, babe? Shouldn’t take more than half an hour.”

  “I’d kill for some Puckett’s right about now,” she admits.

  “You got it. The usual?”

  “Yes, please. Whatever their daily special is, with squash casserole and sweet potato fries.”

  “How about you, pest?” he asks me. “You want anything?”

  “No, thanks. We had a late breakfast at Cracker Barrel just before I came.”

  “All right then. Back in a jiffy.” Tugging lightly at her hair, he smiles at Melanie in the sappy way that only infatuated people can. “Love you.”

  “Love you more,” she smiles back.

  After he’s gone, I take the opportunity to tease her a little. “You do realize your humpty dumplings are even more ginormous than before. Aren’t you feeding this kid?”

  Rolling her eyes, she swats my knee playfully. “I’ll have you know he just finished eating right before you came in, thank you very much.”

  “Well, all I can say is, someone up there was not fair with the distribution of boob shares. Yours are getting bigger, while mine haven’t grown an inch since the tenth grade.” I make a silly face to show her that I’m just kidding. “Okay. Now tell me, and no holding back details. What did having him feel like? I mean, I know it hurt and all that but how much did it hurt? Like, on a scale of one to ten. So I’ll know what to expect if someday down the road I ever decide to do this.”

  “One to ten?”

  I nod.

  “Mm…fifteen?”

  My eyes widen in sympathetic horror. “Was it really that bad?”

  “It was pretty bad. Different than I expected, though.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well…I thought the worst part would be pushing him out, you know? But it was the contractions. You can’t even imagine. When they first started I thought hey, piece of cake, this isn’t going to be so bad. But then they got worse. A lot worse. I’ve never felt pain like that before in my life. Honestly, my stomach hurt so bad I didn’t even feel whatever was going on down below. It was all I could do not to change my mind about the epidural. But as soon as he came out, all the pain went away. Instantly. I can’t even describe what a relief it was.”

  I contemplate this. “And what about now? Does it hurt any now?”

  “I’m pretty sore. They had to stitch me up down there.”

  I try not to grimace, but can’t stop myself. A needle right in the bikini biscuit – that is a truly disturbing image!

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” she assures me. “Compared to labor pains, it’s a walk in the park so I’m not complaining. And anyway, look what I got out of it.” Her fingertips brush against the striped blanket swaddling her son.

  “He is beautiful,” I agree. “And I promise, I’m not just saying that because he’s yours. He really is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.”

  “I think so too, but I might be a little biased.”

  Light as a feather, I stroke my nephew’s soft, pudgy cheek. He makes an adorable scrunchy face in his sleep. “When do you get to go home?”

  “Tomorrow, I think. Day after at the latest.”

  “Your parents are coming up to see him, right?”

  “They called around ten and said they were on their way. They’ll probably get here sometime this afternoon.”

  “What about your sister?”

  She shakes her head. “No…Madelyn had a wedding scheduled for today, but she said she’d come up Monday or Tuesday for sure.”

  Madelyn is a photographer. I met her b
ack when Melanie and I used to work together at the newspaper office, and got to know her a little better when she and her husband came up for the wedding. I’ve also seen her a time or two when she stopped by the law office to meet her dad for lunch. She’s quiet and almost painfully shy, but seems like a very nice person.

  “Too bad he couldn’t have waited a little longer,” Melanie is speculating. “You could’ve shared the same birthday. Wouldn’t that be something?”

  “Yeah.” I look down at his innocent little face, secretly relieved that he didn’t choose that particular day to pop into the world. “That would be something, all right.”

  “I feel bad…we were planning on having an early birthday celebration for you today. Shane was picking up an ice cream cake and everything. It was going to be a surprise.”

  “Really?” I’m touched, but not at all surprised. It’s just the sort of thing they would do. “Well, someone here just didn’t want to wait any longer, did he?”

  “Obviously he wanted to meet his Aunt Leah before she went back home.” She takes a sip from a can of ginger ale before asking, “Looking forward to your vacation?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Are you spending the week at the beach house?”

  “I don’t know. I thought I might.” It’s easier to just say that than try and explain why I probably won’t. I did actually think about going but the truth is, I know if I did I wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of the ocean. And there is just way too much that could happen there. I could wind up as a buffet for Jaws, or get stung by an entire school of jellyfish who are out on a field trip, or maybe contract one of those flesh-eating diseases from some gross parasite.

  Any other day, the beach is my paradise.

  Just not that day.

  That day, the guy flying the plane that advertises shrimp platters for $9.99 will suddenly take a nose dive right in my direction.

  A shrewd smile tugs at Melanie’s lips, and I know what she’s about to say before she even opens her mouth.

  “Why don't you tell me about this Myles guy. Is it serious?”

  “I don’t even know him that well!” Hesitating, I reluctantly add, “Yet.”

  “But you already like him a lot,” she insists. “I can tell.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Yesterday? Your eyes would light up whenever you mentioned him.”

  “They did?” Figures. I’ve never been any good at hiding my emotions. If I’m that much of an open book, I wonder just how far Myles has read into me?

  “Is he nice?” Translation: Will this one turn out to be another ass in sheep's clothing?

  “He's nothing like Brad, if that's what you're asking. Which is to say, I'm pretty sure I won't end up on YouTube with this one. Hey, you never told Shane about that, did you?”

  “Are you kidding? He’d murder the guy! Of course I didn’t tell him. I promised you I’d never breathe a word of it, and I don’t break my promises.”

  “Cool. Thanks.” The way I see it, the whole thing was basically my fault so why drag anyone else into it? I can handle my own problems.

  Melanie searches my face for a reaction, confiding, “You’re probably already aware of this, but Louise was practically doing back handsprings after seeing you two kissing. She said she could tell that Myles was a nice person just by the way he smiled at you. Oh, and that he looked like one of the brothers from Supernatural. Which we all know is her favorite show, so I’m pretty sure she’s already pegged him as a prime candidate for future son-in-law.”

  “Mm. Great.” That’s Louise, all right. I think in a former life she must’ve been a professional matchmaker.

  “Fair warning, you know you’re never going to hear the end of it. She’s always going on and on about how she’d love to see you settle down.”

  I merely smile. For reasons that elude me, they all seem to harbor the misconception that I'm some kind of girls-just-wanna-have-fun party animal. I mean, sure, maybe in the past I had trouble sitting still and was always on the go, but not so much lately. Between work and classes, who has the time?

  I can't really complain because I don’t say too much to discourage that belief. Actually, I find it kind of funny.

  “I think she just worries about you.”

  I snort instinctively, then anxiously look down to make sure I didn’t wake Jeremy. “Why? I’m not exactly past my expiration date, you know! What’s the all-fired hurry?”

  “Oh, you know Lou. She just wants you to be happy. And I guess for her, happy equates to the knight in shining armor, white picket fence and 2.5 kids.”

  “How do you even have half a kid? I’ve never been able to figure that one out. Wouldn’t that kind of mess you up on your income taxes? I’ve never seen an option for bisected kids on any of the forms.”

  Shaking her head, she laughs softly. “Do you know how hard it is to have a rational conversation with you sometimes?”

  “Funny. You’re not the first person to say that.”

  “Not surprising. How come you haven’t mentioned this guy before? Last time I talked to you, you said you weren’t seeing anyone.”

  “We’re not technically seeing one another. I mean, we do obviously because he’s right next door and all, but it’s not like we’re dating. Although he did ask me to go see the fireworks with him.”

  “And you said yes, right?”

  I shrug my shoulders ambivalently. “The more I think about it, the more I wonder if it’s a good idea to pursue this. I like him and all, but things could get awkward. What if it doesn’t work out and we end up hating each other? Then I’m stuck living beside someone I can’t even borrow power tools from.”

  “Hm.” Smirking, she raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Sounds like a convenient excuse to me.”

  “Let me ask you something. What’s with everyone trying to pair me off like I’m the homely old maid? And by the way, that reminds me. Could you please tell your dad to stop trying to set me up with Martin? That is so not happening.”

  “Martin?” Melanie slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “His partner? Are you serious? He’s almost forty!”

  “I know! He keeps hinting that we should go out. Now, you and I both know that Martin is a great guy, but there is just no way. He’s too old for me. Not to mention too sweaty.”

  “Don’t forget those sexy hair transplants.”

  “Does he have transplants? I knew there was something off about his hair!”

  By now she’s shaking all over with suppressed laughter. “Oh, come on now. Give poor Martin a break. You never can tell, he could be a freak between the–”

  She abruptly stops talking as the door swings open, and a young man breezes in to collect her lunch tray.

  “Why, you barely touched this,” the orderly fusses, wagging a finger good-naturedly. “Now you gotta do better than that. How do you expect to get your strength back if you won’t eat?”

  “I know. I’m sorry,” she apologizes sheepishly. “My husband’s bringing me something from town.”

  “Well, in that case I guess we can let it slide. Word of advice, next time get the chicken and rice. Turkey…” Making a face, he shakes his head. “Nope. Trust me, don’t ever ask for that stuff. You ladies have a lovely afternoon.”

  We both smile, innocent as a couple of spring lambs, until he leaves and closes the door behind him.

  “You were saying?” I murmur.

  “Never mind,” she chuckles. “I think it’s safe to cross Martin off the list. Oh, before I forget…on the top shelf in my bedroom closet, there’s a present wrapped in red and white paper. It’s for you. Don’t forget to take it with you.”

  “I told you not to get me anything,” I scold her.

  “Since when do I ever listen to you? Anyway, it’s not much. So just take it and shut up.”

  The bundle in my arms suddenly makes a soft gurgling sound, and I look down to see two slate-gray eyes squinting as they attempt to focus on me.


  “Look who’s awake.” Pulling the corners of the blanket aside, I touch the baby’s delicate little hand and smile in delight when he grips my thumb with tiny wrinkled fingers. “Hello, pumpkin pie,” I coo. “How are you today? Are you enjoying the outside world so far?”

  He blinks several times, his curious gaze never leaving my face.

  Melanie leans forward and tickles beneath his chin lightly. “Hi, sweetie. Did you have a nice nappy-bye?”

  Hearing her voice, he turns his head, popping one miniature fist in his mouth so he can slobber over it.

  “Are you hungry, little man?” she croons. “I don’t see how you could be. You just ate not that long ago.”

  I feel him stiffen slightly in my arms, and his face crumples as I hear a wet and rather disgusting sound coming from his diapered bottom.

  Grinning, I pass little Jeremy back to the protective arms of his mother.

  “Um…I think this present’s for you, Mommy.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It’s close to nine o’clock and dark out when I hear a light tap at the back door. Charlie, lazing beside me in the recliner with his chin on my leg, must instinctively know his owner has returned because he freaks out, running to the door and jumping in circles while yapping excitedly.

  I open the door, and watch in amusement as he practically bounds into Leah’s arms.

  “Looks like someone missed you.” I smile at the sight of her crouched down, trying to hug the dog while avoiding getting licked right in the face.

  “You think so?” Flashing me her radiant smile, she scratches his head affectionately before straightening. “I figured you would. Oh, wait. Were you talking about Charlie?”

  I simply cock an eyebrow. Let her make of that what she will.

  The truth is, I did miss her. It was dull as dirt and way too quiet around here without her. Scarily enough, I’ve grown accustomed to the three-ring circus next door.

  “Did you behave?” she asks Charlie, as if he’d admit his misconduct even if he could. “Were you a good boy? Were you?”

  He barks, and I translate: “Once I closed all the bathroom doors, we didn’t have any more problems.”