A Theory of Expanded Love

by Hicks, Caitlin;

  “It stings to pee,” she added.

  Now I was staring at Bee Bee. She was just maybe five years older than me, like Clara, yet she already knew everything there was to know about being a woman. And she wasn’t happy about it at all. She crossed her arms like she was giving herself a hug and scratched at her ear. She looked worn down and edgy, circles under her eyes and bloated cheeks from crying. She talked to Clara like Madcap and I weren’t even there.

  “We could get a wheelchair!” Madcap offered to nobody and everybody.

  We all stood there in silence.

  “I feel like half of something, Clara. You can’t imagine how empty.” Bee Bee looked down at her hands. Clara hugged her. What else could she do? I tried to think of something, but it was hard to listen without welling up. Madcap turned towards the hallway.

  “I’ll go get that wheelchair,” she said.

  “Did you sign the papers?” Clara asked after Madcap was out the door.

  “I was sleepy from the drugs!” Like Clara was accusing her.

  “But you did sign the papers.” Clara stared at Bee Bee. All you could hear was the buzz of the hospital machines. After a pause she said, “It’s too late, isn’t it?”

  “They kept me in a room all day!” Bee Bee cried, rocking herself back and forth. “By myself with the priest. I kept telling the man that I did not want to sign the papers.”

  Clara watched her friend long enough for me to notice the squeaky sound of nurse shoes coming down the hallway. Finally she said, “But you did sign them, didn’t you?” She said it carefully, like she was playing pick-up-sticks and she didn’t want a single thing to move.

  “He just kept at me, saying, ‘It’s for the baby’s sake.’”

  How can they do that? Just take your baby from you? Isn’t that kidnapping? Just then a man with shiny legs shuffled past the door, pushing a metal pole. A bag was attached to the pole with water in it. When he passed, it was shocking and science fiction at the same time. We saw his bare bottom, in broad daylight. The back of his gown was wide open, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “I just want to hold my own baby,” Bee Bee said. She didn’t see the shuffler, or maybe she was just used to him strolling past in that flimsy tent he was wearing.

  “Let’s go to the nursery,” Clara said, determined.

  “Maybe your baby is still there,” I interjected. They both turned towards me, considering this.

  “Even so, they won’t let me see her.”

  “I don’t see what’s stopping us,” Clara said. “It’s on this floor.”

  Madcap came back into the room with a wheelchair. Then everyone’s attention was on the floor, where nothing was happening. It felt like the Principal’s office and we had just got caught ditching Mass. Suddenly Madcap clapped her hands together and turned to face me. “No one’s going to suspect you, Annie,” she said. “You be the scout!”

  “What? Me?”

  “That’s what we’re saying,” Clara chimed in.

  I didn’t want to go—way too suspenseful. But they had a point. I was a runty twelve. What would I be doing in the nursery?

  So I walked as casually as possible towards the sign that said Nursery. I tried to relax my mouth, but my heart was pounding and I could feel every beat. The man in slippers and flyaway gown was right behind me; I could hear his mutterings, like he was breathing down my neck. I turned to look at him. His eyes were wet and rimmed in red and he looked right through me, like I wasn’t there. Surely he had escaped from somewhere! A nurse walked down the hall towards me, looking stern and purposeful. What was I going to tell her when she asked me why I was on my way to the nursery? I couldn’t think of anything. We locked eyes.

  Just then, the man behind me fell over in a clatter, pole and all. He lay on his back, his legs willy nilly in the air looking like someone had slapped him out of his dream. I almost laughed because it looked so comical and it was so unexpected, but then it hit me that he was a grown-up, who probably knew a lot more than I did, and he was lying on the floor with his private parts visible to practically anyone because he had lost his balance. It looked like he couldn’t even remember what he knew. He really needed help, and I had no idea how to help him. The nurse ran towards him. Suddenly everything was abuzz; the intercom started barking orders. Code this. Doctor that. I realized this was my chance. So I continued walking, as nonchalantly as possible, towards the room with all the babies.

  Around the corner at last the nursery came into view. All these little creatures were brand new, and they didn’t know anything. They were lying on their backs, too, needing help just to stay alive. What a strange place this was.

  I felt like I had arrived at the Promised Land. It was a huge room filled with small metal beds side by side. It looked like the hospital was preparing for a population explosion, or maybe this was a factory in baby heaven, before they send them down to earth from the assembly line. Each little bed had a glass box held inside the metal frame with a soft looking blanket, and there was a baby inside that cradle. You could only see their heads. I stared through the large glass window into the room, feeling close to something that was both magical and strange in its uniformity and orderliness. I relaxed a little knowing they were all dealing with Mutter Man and his pole out there in the hallway and I wasn’t going to get into trouble any time soon.

  Between rows of bassinets, a nurse was helping a lady take a baby out of one of the beds. The woman wore heels, a tight green skirt the color of a turtle’s back, and a matching jacket. I could tell she had never put her arms around a baby before. She held the baby away from her, like it might be a china vase and she was afraid of breaking it. A baby just naturally snuggles up to your body, and you can hold him in the crick of your arm. I know all about that from holding all my little brothers and sisters, from changing their diapers and feeding them. When the lady pressed the baby against herself she giggled. What was so embarrassing about holding a newborn baby?

  Then I noticed that someone was standing next to me. I jumped, but it was only a man in a suit, looking like he matched the lady with the baby. He had a short haircut, slick with Brylcream, probably.

  “That’s our baby girl,” he said, beaming. “She was born yesterday.”

  Wow, that was quick. The mother is already out of bed. She’s wearing heels. Why is Bee Bee all bruised up and swollen with milk and this lady is in a fashion show?

  “Yesterday?” I asked. “Your wife isn’t in bed resting or anything. You’re taking her home already? That’s amazing.”

  “Yes,” he said, “the Good Lord has brought this baby into our lives. A young teen mother who got herself in trouble is probably right now thanking God that she doesn’t have to deal with a screaming baby 24 hours a day. She can finish school and have a future.”

  Oh, babies don’t scream 24 hours straight; does this guy know anything? For instance, right now his baby isn’t screaming.

  “What’s her name?” I said instead.

  “Her mother gave her the name Lily, but we want a Christian name. We’re going to name her Christine.”

  “Christine! What a beautiful name to go through life with!” I said. Lily was a good name, too. I felt so curious about this couple. I guess I had never seen an adoptive mother before. I wondered if she would have the same feelings of love for this baby as our mother has for us. I stood there watching as the woman brought her Lily/Christine out to her husband.

  “No, honey, you hold her,” he said as she approached.

  “I know how to hold a baby,” I piped up. “I have a lot of practice with my younger brothers and sisters. I’m from a big family—thirteen children.” The mother was looking at me, so I said, “I change diapers and stuff all the time.” I shrugged like it was nothing. The Dad was listening, too. “You have to hold the neck and the head, especially when they’re this young,” I said as if I knew everything. “Their neck muscles aren’t developed yet.” I must have been convincing because the mother smiled and held
her baby out to me.

  So I tucked the baby under where my breasts would be. She naturally fit. I inhaled, trying to smell that cozy smell they have. I knew she couldn’t see yet, but she looked out at me like she was wondering what the heck had just happened.

  “Lily Christine,” I said.

  “It’s just Christine,” said the dad.

  Christine looked squished, with a wrinkled forehead and patchy scalp. I could see the indentation on the top of her head where her soft spot was. I had to wonder why babies don’t remember anything. This baby could go through her whole life and never know how odd she looked when her mother first met her. She’ll probably never know anything about her real mother, either. It seemed like such a shame all around.

  As I held her, she made this licking gesture with her mouth and we all stared at her as if she was doing a magic trick. After a few moments, I gave her back to the mother. Pretty soon the baby was nibbling at her breast through her jacket. The mother offered a finger, and the baby started to suck it.

  “Ohhh!” We were all surprised into speechlessness.

  “Thank you,” Fashion Lady told me.

  “My pleasure,” I said. I crossed myself and kissed my thumb for extra blessings as I watched them walk down the hall towards the stairs, the mother taking short steps because her skirt was so tight, her high heels clicking on the floor. Both of them still arched over the bundle in their arms.

  Then I felt a sharp knock on the back of my head. Madcap whispered at me through her teeth.

  “What have you been doing?”

  “I just saw a couple take their baby home.”

  •••

  The four of us stood in front of the window of the nursery with all the babies lined up. Three of them were crying. One started it up and then the other two chimed in. Bee Bee stretched her neck up. From her wheelchair she had to lift her chin to see in. By now tears were just naturally flowing down her cheeks. Clara had her hand on Bee Bee’s shoulder.

  Then the nurse saw us at the window. She put the baby back in its bassinet, but it was still kicking and screaming and getting redder against that white blanket. More babies started crying, but the nurse ignored them. She pushed the door open and addressed herself to Bee Bee, like they knew each other.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, looking down at Bee Bee in the wheelchair.

  “Just tell me which one she is.”

  The nurse looked down at Bee Bee, then at me, then at Clara, then at Madcap. She took a breath in. Her face relaxed into a frown. She looked official: a white nurse cap, her hair tied back at the nape of her neck. She had spit up on her shoulder and I could smell it. But she seemed kind.

  She shook her head.

  “I know I signed the papers,” Bee Bee offered, “I know it’s too late. Just let me see her.”

  The nurse looked resigned, like she didn’t have any good news for us at all. We waited. Then her face brightened.

  “What did you name your child?” she asked.

  “Lily,” Bee Bee said like a reflex. “I named her Lily.”

  The nurse turned around and we were all staring at her white nurse-bottom, walking away from us.

  I felt dizzy. Even though my eyes were open, everything was suddenly blurry. I leaned against the wall. I was going to die of the sadness I felt.

  “Are you crying, Annie?” Madcap asked me incredulously.

  “No.” I looked down at my shoes, then at my fingernails, like they knew something.

  But Clara and Bee Bee and even Madcap waited hopefully. I could see their mood had changed. The air seemed lighter where they stood.

  “I can’t believe it, she’s going to find her!” Bee Bee said. Clara squeezed her hand.

  But how could one moment of seeing your baby be enough? The moment is over so soon, and then the baby is gone for the rest of your life.

  We could see the nurse going up and down the rows, looking closely at the names written on a small card on all the baby bassinettes. More babies were hollering by then and I was glad I couldn’t hear them. Clara put her hand on Bee Bee’s back and smoothed it up and down, something Mother does when we’re gaping over the toilet with the flu.

  But I was wondering how could the nurse be doing this? She knows that Lily has just left the building with her new parents. Then I had a thought. Maybe she’s stalling so they can get away undiscovered! I turned on my heels and ran outside, hoping the parents hadn’t gotten into the car with their new baby yet.

  The parking lot was almost as full as the nursery. Cars everywhere, sunlight glinting off their windows and bumpers. I could see the warmth of the afternoon in an almost invisible wave above the asphalt. The dry heat was everywhere. My socks against my ankles felt overly warm and thick. I waited and watched. There was no movement anywhere, only the sounds of muffled traffic on the other side of the building.

  Lily was gone.

  When I got back, most of the babies looked red and angry. The nurse was pointing to a quiet baby who was probably the farthest away possible in the room.

  “They found her!” Bee Bee said, thrilled. “Look what a good baby she is!”

  “I wonder if the nurse is going to get in trouble,” Madcap said. “It can’t be good that they’re all screaming.”

  The nurse took the baby out of the bassinette and brought it to the window and held it up, for Bee Bee to see. I couldn’t imagine the noise in there.

  “Lily, Lily, Lily,” Bee Bee cooed. Now Bee Bee’s face was pink and flushed, and her eyes shone with pride. She grinned joyously, like it was Christmas morning.

  Right where her nipples were, her mother’s milk began seeping through her gown.

  Chapter 21

  voices

  Dear Blessed Mother, please don’t let me bounce out of this truck. They put me back here ‘cause there was no room for me in the cab once Clara decided to go back with us. She’s really big! It was a good thing Aaron Solomon tied down the surfboard; that gave me something to hold onto. Listen, will you please take Jesus aside, and especially God the Father, and tell them what really good girls we usually are? I’ll offer up the suffering of how freezing I am back here to weigh in our favor. Also, it would help if it’s not dark yet by the time we get home. I can’t be responsible for what kind of trouble Clara’s got into, but I can see her point about her baby. Daddy is really going to be mad. FYI: I’m too big to be spanked; I don’t know what he’s going to do.

  The light had faded from the sky when Aaron Solomon’s truck rolled up the driveway. Luckily, he lived close by, as only one of his headlights worked. Shadows gathered as Sparky came barking down the brick path, so there was no way we could sneak in unnoticed. I stepped over the back gate of the truck with my foot on the fender and jumped down onto the asphalt. Looking behind me, I saw Madcap reach up and kiss Aaron Solomon. On the lips! Then he drove off and the three of us were on our own, Sparky looking up at us with his tongue out. Across the street the tennis court was quiet and dark. It was Saturday night—the Westridge girls were probably having some kind of summer debutante ball for all I cared.

  We walked up the driveway to the back of the house, Sparky trotting up after us. My skin tingled from the sun and hours of cold wind, and I felt seasick from all that bumping around in the back of the truck.

  The little kids came storming down the hall when they heard the screen door squeak open. No one was expecting Clara and when they realized it was her, they mobbed her, with Jude toddling towards her, then attaching himself to the back of the twins who were hugging Clara’s legs.

  “Clara, Clara!”

  “Oh, Clara look at you!”

  “Clara’s back!”

  They were supposed to be in bed by this time, a bad sign, meaning I hadn’t been there to give them their Jiffy Bath. But their hair was wet and they had their jammies on so maybe Jeannie got extra points for doing my job. Bully for her. I went hitchhiking to the beach in Ventura and watched surfers!

  “Where’s
Daddy?” I whispered to Dominic.

  “I dunno, he took Bartholomew with him in the car in the afternoon.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “I’m right here.” She spoke up sharply as she stepped out of the kitchen, pulling off her yellow rubber gloves, still sudsy from doing dishes. “Where have you been?”

  For the tenth time today, I was dumbfounded into silence. I waited to see if this was a rhetorical question, or if there was any room for a story. We were supposed to have been at Cinematheque, but of course, with Clara here, we could only have been in Ventura at the Mission. Now, the question was, should we tell we hitchhiked? Maybe I wouldn’t have to say anything. I hoped Madcap and Clara had their story straight. They might have had a chance to rehearse something in the cab on the way home. I was still shivering.

  “Jeannie can you put the kids to bed? Say a short rosary with them and some extra prayers for Clara, Madcap, and Annie here.” Then she said, like I was the first business of the night, “Annie you go up to your room right now. Too bad you’ve missed supper. You’re grounded. Madcap, I’ll deal with you when your father gets home.”

  Great, I thought. I can already feel Jeannie gloating.

  “We got a ride in a pickup truck from a friend who surfs in Ventura,” Madcap inserted. “When we heard he was going to Ventura, we decided to go see Clara. We didn’t have a chance to call you.”

  “Clara,” she said, ignoring Madcap’s explanation, “come in and sit down. You must be tired after that ride. In a truck?”

  “Oh, Mother!” Clara threw her arms around Mother, their stomachs touching each other, (Clara’s bulging, Mom’s not so much). “I’ve missed you so much!” Mother hugged her somewhat stiffly, but she and Clara padded off together towards the living room, and it was the weirdest sight—neither of them screaming at the other.

  I got upstairs into my room and grabbed a long-sleeved shirt to put over my arms and then quietly (so as not to creak the boards) tip-toed to Madcap’s small room at the top of the stairs. There were no lights on and I could see by her shadow that she was standing on the wooden bedstead, stretching up to the skylight, smoking a cigarette. The white smoke wafted up and out towards the night sky, which seemed blue, although it was dark outside. I loved the dry smell of it, because I always smelled it with Madcap in her room like this, and it was kind of exciting. You could see little twinkling stars through the space between the window frame of the skylight and the roof. I climbed up next to her on the headboard, so we wouldn’t be heard.