Goodbye Paradise

by Sarina Bowen

  Josh let out a big sigh. Then he marched over to the fridge and yanked the doctor’s phone number out from under its magnets. He slapped the piece of paper onto the counter and then reached for the phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m telling her doctor that I think something’s wrong,” he said, dialing with the hand that wasn’t needed to support the baby.

  “She wouldn’t want you to do that,” I argued.

  “Don’t care,” Josh said, lifting the phone to his ear. “If she’s fine, the doctor will tell me to mind my own business, right?” He waited, a concerned frown on his face, until someone picked up. “Hi. I’m Maggie Beaufort’s cousin. She had a baby three weeks ago, and I’m very worried about her. She cries all the time and she won’t eat much. Sure, I’ll hold.”

  I expected the doctor’s office to laugh Josh off the phone. But that’s not at all what happened. Someone came on the line and listened again to everything Josh had to say, and then asked a whole lot of questions. “Wait, I need to write that down,” Josh said eventually. “Just a second…”

  Grabbing the pad we used for grocery lists and a pencil, Josh began to scribble. “Okay. Got it. I’ll make sure she gets there.” On his shoulder, the baby began to fuss again. So I reached over and slid my hands under her little armpits.

  Josh passed Chloe to me and went back to his call.

  The baby was warm and heavier than I expected against my chest. But, God, how did people do this? I was terrified of dropping her. Not that she was slippery or anything. But I didn’t like being the person responsible for that tiny body and that soft little head.

  It took Josh maybe two more minutes to finish up his conversation, and they could not pass fast enough.

  Finally, he hung up the phone, turning to me with victory on his face. “There’s a thing called postpartum depression,” he said. “And the doctor thinks that Maggie has it. Apparently, after you have a baby, a bunch of your hormones levels can crash. It kills your will to live. The doctor said it can be mild or serious. But it’s a real thing.”

  “Oh.” That sounded plausible. Because something about Maggie had surely crashed. “So… what do we do?”

  Josh smacked the notepad with his hand, and then reached for Chloe. (Thankfully.) “The doctor wants to see Maggie at noon. That’s in one hour. Will you drive her?”

  “Well…” I cleared my throat. “Of course I’ll do it. But we need to tell Daniel. He’ll probably want to take her himself.”

  Josh bit his lip, clearly uncomfortable. Until that moment, I don’t think I understood that Josh was afraid of Daniel. “Maybe I should ask Maggie what to do?”

  I shook my head. “Maggie is the one who is sick, right? And she doesn’t know why. Daniel needs to know. But I’ll tell him,” I said.

  “Really?” Josh squeaked. “I’ll go with you.”

  I held up a hand. “I got this.” Without waiting for a response, I went into the mud room and stuffed my feet into my shoes.

  Out in the workshop, I found Daniel hand-sanding a long rail, his arm working the sanding block with furious motion. When he saw me, his mouth made a grim line, but he did not stop working. After an awkward minute of this, he stood up straight and tossed the sanding block onto his work table. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just frustrated.”

  With a shrug, I just took him in. There were dark circles under his eyes. He looked almost worse than Maggie. There were half finished projects around the shop, including a rocking horse I’d never noticed before. It was probably for Chloe. Daniel was probably under a lot of pressure. His carpentry business was supposedly profitable, but not exactly easy. A few weeks ago it was just he and Maggie. And now he was essentially the head of a family of five.

  That’s how it must have felt, anyway.

  “I didn’t come out here for an apology,” I said quietly. “But Maggie has a doctor’s appointment at noon.”

  His chin snapped up. “Really? What for?”

  “Well,” I stuck my hands in my pockets. “We called her doctor — the one on the refrigerator. We were worried.” I wasn’t trying to take credit for Josh’s good work. But it was a ballsy thing that Josh had done, and I knew there was some tension over how often Josh took care of the baby. “It turns out that there’s a hormone problem that can make new mothers depressed. And the doctor thinks Maggie has it.”

  Daniel put both hands on the rail he’d been sanding, and dropped his head. “Shit. Did they use the words ‘postpartum depression?’”

  “Yeah. That’s it.”

  “Shit. Shit!” He slammed his hands down. “I should have caught that.” His eyes came up again, staring me down. “And you knew about that? I am such an idiot.”

  This made me laugh. “No, dude. It was all Josh. And he didn’t know either. It’s just that he was willing to call a doctor and freak out over the phone.”

  Even dropped his head again. “Fucking Josh. Obviously smarter than the rest of us.”

  “So true.”

  “I’ve even read about this before. It’s in all those fucking pregnancy books Maggie made me read. God damn it.” He kicked the foot of his sawhorse. “Sorry,” he said quickly.

  “Daniel, you can goddamn any goddamn thing you want. I don’t care.”

  He gave me a weary grin. “Okay. I’m gonna go apologize to Josh, then explain to Maggie that I’m taking her to the doctor.” He shut off his table lamp. “Hey. Do you think Josh would take the baby for a few hours? Ugh. I hate to ask him.”

  “I think he’d be happy to. He only wants to help.”

  Daniel grabbed his jacket off a chair and headed for the door. “He’s really good with Chloe. Makes me feel like an idiot.”

  “I feel like an idiot pretty much all the time,” I told him. “Why should you fare any better?”

  Daniel shook his head, and we walked back to the house together.

  * * *

  Ten hours later, Josh and I sat at opposite ends of the sofa, our legs tangled together. We were watching a TV movie in a half-assed way. Josh was preoccupied with Chloe, who was drinking a bottle on his chest. And I was preoccupied with Josh.

  “What?” he said, after the third time he caught me staring.

  “Nothing. I just like you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re smirking.”

  “You’re cute, okay? I can’t help it.”

  He made a face. “She makes me useful. I really don’t mind it.”

  “You are useful. You were a fucking hero today. If Maggie starts feeling better, she and Daniel are never going to forget this.”

  “Don’t say fuck,” he admonished me. “If it’s Chloe’s first word, I’m not taking the rap for that.”

  I poked his hip with my toe. “Why don’t you want me watching you?”

  He sighed. “It’s not my most manly hour.” He set the bottle on the coffee table and turned the baby onto his shoulder. With mild thumps, he patted her back.

  You couldn’t have paid me to look anywhere else. His long hands made the baby look tiny, and the arms he held her in were strong and sexy. “I think you have it all wrong,” I said quietly. “A real man does what needs doing. He takes care of the people he loves. You know this instinctively, even though every man in your own life treated you like shit.”

  He looked up fast, and with so much surprise on his face that I felt a pang in my heart. “Except for you,” he said.

  “Except for me,” I said. Taking good care of Josh was the only true achievement I could claim. That, and having good hands when it came to engine work.

  Absently, he whacked Chloe on the back, until she gave a very unladylike belch. “Good girl,” he sighed, turning her again until her eyes peeped at me from his chest.

  “Is that something you think about?” I asked.

  “What. Burps?”

  I gave him another poke with my toe. “No. Manliness.”

  Josh groaned. “So what if I do? As you pointed out yourself, I sp
ent years listening to a bunch of assholes question mine.”

  This was true. It’s just that it was plain as day to me that the people who had put Josh down only did it to boost themselves up. Like the hens in my mother’s chicken coop, they pecked at anyone ranked below them. As their favorite target, though, I guessed Josh couldn’t see that as easily as I could.

  “Josh?”

  “Mmm?”

  “If you weren’t a man, I wouldn’t want you so bad, like I do. That’s the thing with me.”

  He gave me a funny little disbelieving smile.

  “Do you know why I don’t hold the baby very often? It’s not because I think it’s women’s work.”

  “You don’t want her to pee on you? It happens.”

  I laughed. “No, but thanks for the warning. It’s because she scares me. Like I won’t know what to do, and she’ll start screaming and everybody will look at me and wonder what I did wrong.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “That’s ridiculous. Any idiot with two hands can hold a baby. One hand is actually fine, too.” He swung his feet off over mine and off the couch. “You can practice right now, because I really have to pee.” He stood up and set the baby onto my chest, into my arms. Then he left.

  I looked down at the little round face, which, besides her little starfish hands, was the only visible part. The rest of her was covered in pink fleece pajamas with yellow sheep on them. “Hi,” I said quietly. “Please don’t cry, okay?”

  She gave me an appraising squint, as if thinking it over.

  “I’ll be your best friend,” I offered. “When Josh and I have our own place, you can visit sometimes. I’ll teach you how to change the oil on your car. It will save you forty bucks.”

  She wrinkled her nose, as if maybe she didn’t like this idea.

  “Okay, fine. I’ll change the oil for you. You don’t even have to get your hands dirty. Do we have a deal?”

  Her mouth scrunched up. I was pretty sure she was about to let loose with a wail.

  In the back of the house, a toilet flushed. That meant I was sixty seconds away from relief. “Amazing grace,” I sang. Badly. “How sweet the sound.”

  She howled. I gave up singing and rocked her a little. Sort of. “Josh!” I yelled.

  Josh came trotting back into the room. “What happened?” He scooped the baby up and began bouncing his knees, saying “shh, shh.”

  “She doesn’t like me. She can tell I’m afraid. The way a dog smells fear.”

  Josh rolled his eyes. “It’s late. I think she’s just tired.” He made a lap around the room, and the crying tapered off. By the time it stopped, the baby was asleep on his shoulder.

  Gingerly, he sat down again, and I put my feet in his lap. When Daniel and Maggie weren’t home, I could be more affectionate. Someday, we’d have our own place. And I was going to touch him every chance I got. And, just as I was enjoying this thought, I heard a voice call out “I’m home!” from the mudroom.

  I yanked my feet off Josh and put them on the floor. “We’re in here,” I said in a low voice, mindful of the sleeping baby.

  Two minutes later, Daniel appeared in the doorway. He walked over to his favorite upholstered chair and sat heavily in it.

  “Where’s Maggie?” Josh asked quickly.

  “They admitted her to the psych ward overnight.” Daniel dropped his head into his hands. “She’ll be okay, though. There’s going to be medication. And if that doesn’t work, there are other medicines they can try.”

  Josh and I were quiet for a minute, unsure what to say.

  “I mean…” Daniel continued. “They say it’s going to be okay. But she still looks like a mess. And she can’t breastfeed the baby anymore, because of the meds. So she was crying about that.”

  “But there’s always baby formula,” I said quickly.

  “Sure,” Daniel said. “But she feels like a failure.”

  Josh sighed. “Poor Maggie. That’s just not fair.”

  “I know,” Daniel said. “And I still feel like a tool for yelling at her. I should have known it wasn’t her fault. And here you sat all day with the baby. Can I take her?” he held out his hands.

  Josh looked down at the sleeping pink person. “I think I should just put her in the crib. You’ll get your chance in about three hours, I think?” He stood up.

  “Thank you,” Daniel said, as Josh headed for the stairs.

  “I don’t mind at all,” he said, climbing the stairs slowly.

  When he’d truly disappeared, I echoed Josh. “He doesn’t mind, you know. It gives him a way to be useful.”

  Daniel rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Useful doesn’t even begin to describe it. I was such a dick this morning. And you two have really saved our butts lately.”

  “But we eat a lot.”

  “I’m still coming out ahead,” Daniel said, standing up. “I’d better go to bed. She’ll wake up hungry before I know it. Is there baby milk in the freezer, or am I switching to that powdered formula…?”

  “Ask Josh,” I said. “He’s the one who knows.”

  Daniel gave a sad little smile. “At least somebody does. Night.”

  * * *

  Half an hour later, I got into bed with Josh. He didn’t shun me anymore these days. When I rolled toward him, he came into my arms willingly. “I bet you’re beat,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “You held that baby for, like, an entire day.”

  “She only weighs eight pounds. And I’m not the one who is going to wake up in the night to feed her.” He was quiet for a minute. “I like Chloe. We understand each other.”

  Somehow, I avoided laughing. And even if I had chuckled, it wouldn’t be because I thought what Josh said was ridiculous. It’s just that he was so freaking cute. “She’s lucky to have you,” I said. “And so are Maggie and Daniel. You might have saved her, Josh. I’m not kidding.”

  “That’s awfully dark.”

  I pushed a hand through his soft hair. “I don’t mean to be dramatic. But you saw something wrong, and you got her help. Maybe Daniel would have done that eventually. But it was pretty amazing, and he was grateful.”

  “I hope the medicine works.”

  “It will. And they’ll always remember it. You’re in good, now.” I meant that last bit as a joke. But it was really quite true.

  “I guess,” he said.

  I hugged him tighter. “You guess? Of course you are.”

  “They don’t know about us.”

  “Oh.” That was true. And, if I was honest, not a day went by that I didn’t worry about what it would mean if they knew. I wavered between thinking that it might not matter and the certainty that it totally would. “Maybe someday we can tell them. After they’ve known us a long time.”

  “Don’t do it,” Josh said quickly.

  I hugged him again. “I would never say a word without your permission. Don’t worry. I know you like it here.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Eventually they’re gonna wonder, though. If it’s ten years from now, and we’ve been sharing a house, or whatever, and neither of us has a wife.”

  “Ugh. They won’t wonder for a long time, though. They won’t expect us to marry anyone for years.”

  “True.” I rubbed Josh’s stomach sleepily. The feel of his taut body in my arms could make me horny in a hot second, if I let it. But we didn’t fool around when other people were home. Ever. “Goodnight, baby.”

  He answered me with a tiny snore.

  Part Three

  The Gospel According to Josh

  Fifteen

  I WOKE UP IN Caleb’s arms. After getting dressed, I stumbled to the kitchen alone. It was time for milking, but the house was quiet. The only sound I heard were little infant noises, coming from the portable baby monitor which had been abandoned on the counter.

  Chloe was the first one awake.

  The little sounds she made were one of my favorite things about her. Everything I knew about babies I’d learned in th
e past three weeks. But I found that I was drawn to Chloe’s utter lack of self-consciousness. Chloe never thought twice before voicing her opinion. She never worried what we thought of her.

  I envied her.

  There were a couple of baby bottles discarded in the sink — the night’s work of a sleep-deprived Daniel. Outside, the cows needed my attention. But upstairs, Chloe was going to burst into screams if someone didn’t feed her fairly soon.

  So I made a bottle, heating it in the microwave, then swirling the liquid around to even out the temperature. I tested it on my wrist just as Maggie had shown me a week ago.

  Climbing the stairs, I could hear Chloe’s breathy little sounds getting louder. They’d shifted from mere observations to complaints. But I made the deadline—she wasn’t wailing yet. And when I leaned over her crib, her blue eyes opened wide, and her short arms began to windmill with excitement.

  I loved that greeting. Nobody had ever been so happy to see me.

  Scooping her up, I moved her to the changing table. It only took a minute to swap the wet diaper for a dry one. Then I snapped her back up and sat down in the rocker. Another thing I’d learned was that a hungry baby always attacked the bottle like she hasn’t eaten for weeks. She sort of grabbed it in her jaw and shook it, before settling in to gulp at the nipple. It was fun to watch. She had so much life force already. So much will.

  The milk disappeared at a steady clip, with the last couple of ounces going slowly, as Chloe sucked more lazily. When it was empty, I burped her, rocking us both in the chair. There was still nothing but silence coming from Daniel’s bedroom. So I took Chloe with me downstairs.

  Luckily, I found the baby carrier hanging from a hook in the mudroom. I put Chloe into it, facing my chest. Then I put my canvas work coat over that, partially zipping it around Chloe’s back. The last thing I did was add a little hat for her fuzzy head.

  It was December. Was it warm enough in the barn for a baby? It would have to be.

  We went out into the barn, where the girls were eager to see me. The cows nudged each other to try to be first in line. All I had to do was wave Lady over to the milking stand. Holding Chloe’s head with my palm, I crouched down to do a one-handed cleanse of the teat.