THE BABY
Karen A. Wyle
Copyright © 2011 by Karen A. Wyle
Published in the United States of America
Cover design by Karen A. Wyle
Cover art by Heather Paye
Ellie lay in the bed and would not open her eyes.
Once she opened her eyes, it would all begin. She would see the baby, and he would look like her lost Daniel. Daniel as a baby, of course. And she would have Daniel again, as long as they both should live. And she would never have Daniel again, as long as she lived.
She listened, but heard no breathing. There were so many other sounds -- buzzes and hums of equipment, tinny music, wheels of carts, footsteps. A baby's breathing would be too quiet. But should she be hearing it?
She felt and heard her own breathing accelerate in a panicky rhythm. Was the baby all right? Had something gone wrong?
She opened her eyes.
There he was. The bassinet was next to her bed, just out of reach. The baby sleeping, one tiny hand showing atop the soft thin striped blanket, a blue cap on his head.
Ellie breathed slowly, deeply, and sat up slowly, painfully. She shoved her own blankets out of the way, swung her feet down, grabbed the bed rail and tried to stand up. On the second try, she made it. Carefully, she inched over to the bassinet, leaned over, lifted the blanket. The baby stirred and opened his eyes. They were a dark grayish color, not yet brown.
The baby wriggled and made a small fussing sound. She didn't want him to cry. Daniel had hated it when people saw him cry. She bent and took baby Daniel in her arms, shuffled back to her bed and sat, holding the baby against her shoulder, rocking back and forth. "Hush, Daniel. Hush, my love. Ellie's here. I'm here, sweetheart."
When the tears came, she turned her head to keep them from falling on the baby. But her sobs upset the rhythm of her rocking, and Daniel began to cry.
The lactation consultant had a soothing voice. No doubt it was a professional necessity. And no doubt she thought she'd seen everything, heard every concern, overcome every inhibition.
"Let's see. You decided months ago to breastfeed your baby. But now you're having trouble?"
Ellie, holding the baby upright against her, nodded over the baby's head.
"Had you ever been around nursing mothers? Do you know what might be making you uncomfortable now?"
Just the memory of her husband sucking on those same nipples. Just her head spinning as she thought about Daniel, baby Daniel, Daniel, and how should she feel when the baby sucked?
Ellie looked down at the Daniel in her arms. "Not exactly."
The consultant tilted her head like a bright-eyed bird. "If by any chance you're having some -- sensual feelings when the baby nurses, I know that can be disconcerting. But it happens to many mothers."
Ellie fought back the urge to laugh, to cackle, to lose control. "Other mothers. Mothers just like me. Oh, yes."
Ellie stretched out her arms to show Daniel to their visitor. "Would you like to hold him?"
"Give me a minute." Greg sat with his drink untouched and collecting condensation on the side table. Ellie could imagine the taste, the cold clean feel of the drink in her mouth. She hadn't had a vodka tonic since the implant procedure.
"Greg, if you're not going to drink and you're not going to hold him, would you fetch me a soda? You know where everything is."
Greg shook his head, got up and went into the kitchen. Ellie held the baby upright and bounced him on her knee. "Greg is getting Ellie a drink. As soon as Ellie stops nursing Daniel, Ellie can have a grownup drink like Greg." The baby laughed and spit up a small quantity of yellowish milk on Ellie's chest. "Shit. Greg! Bring me a damp paper towel while you're at it!"
Greg returned with a can of Sprite, a damp paper towel, and a disapproving expression. He put the drink and the towel on the wooden arm of the couch. "If you keep swearing around him, he'll pick it up, and it'll cause him problems later."
"Come on, Greg. You knew Daniel. It's a lost cause. And take the baby, so I can clean myself up."
"I can clean you up." Greg looked pointedly at her milk-stained chest and attempted a leer.
"Thanks anyway. Please, take Daniel!"
Greg looked down at his hands.
"Greg, please, relax. He's Daniel, and he's a baby. Lovable on both counts." Greg's attitude was predictable, but tiresome. She reminded herself that losing her patience could be dangerous. Time, instead, to get to the heart of the matter -- from Greg's point of view. "I know you want to be part of our lives. You can't do that if you're afraid to be near him. To touch him."
Greg hesitated a moment longer, then slowly reached for the baby.
"Here you go, Daniel. Here's Greg. Our best friend. You should be throwing up on him, like you did in college, instead of on me." Greg snorted in startled laughter.
"On second thought, you'd better be nice to him, and don't spit up on him. He's the only one who knows about you." She handed over the baby and dabbed at her chest.
Greg sat back down, the baby in one arm, and picked up his drink. "I thought moth -- people with babies kept spit-up rags draped everywhere." He took a large gulp.
Ellie grimaced. "I haven't surrendered to the Baby-as-Interior-Designer look. Speaking of looking, go on and look at him."
Greg obeyed. "Well, Ellie, he's a good-looking little fellow. Of course. I assume Daniel looked just the same at that age."
"Naturally. Take a look for yourself." Ellie gestured with the paper towel toward the stack of pleather-bound albums on the coffee table. A memory surfaced for a moment: real leather albums in her grandmother's house, back when leather was allowed. "I have them stacked chronologically, with the earliest ones on top."
She got up and retrieved the baby, who waved his hands and feet energetically. Ellie kissed his nose and held him on her shoulder, swaying. Greg leaned forward and slid out an album near the bottom of the stack. He flipped it open and pointed. "My God, here we all are, that first spring break together. Ellie, I declare you were one hot babe."
Ellie stuck out her tongue at him and reached for the album. He held it out of her reach, flipping pages. "I took this one, do you remember? The two of you, at graduation." He put the album down and picked up another, bound in white. "I don't need to look at this one. Your wedding. I've seen it." He put it down again with a thump.
Ellie rested the baby in the crook of her arm and carefully extracted the album at the bottom of the stack. "This is the last one. It has one of the best pictures." She laid the album on the table and opened it to a page near the back. "He knew I wanted a good one -- it was my birthday present."
Greg shook his head. "That must have been just before he got sick."
Ellie stood beside Greg and looked down at the picture. She held the baby over the album. "See, honey? That's what you're going to look like. You'll be a fine, handsome man. You'll have such nice shoulders. And strong hands. And curly hair. And bad breath. And a wicked smile." She was crying again. Greg stood up and put his arm around her. When he kissed her hair, she pulled away hard. "Not in front of Daniel!"
Ellie sat in the rocking chair in the dim light, nursing Daniel. There was no sound but the quiet creak of the chair and the quiet sucking of the baby. She breathed slowly, calmly, almost drowsing.
The baby was falling asleep. His little mouth loosened and let go of her breast.
"I feel like a mother, Daniel. You made me a mother. Isn't that funny?" She rocked and stroked the baby's thin hair, lightly, gently. "You were going to make me a mother, and you couldn't, and now you have."
The baby was snoring, a barely audible sound.
"Did your mother hold you like this, Daniel? What else did s
he do? What did she do to make you grow into the man I loved? How can I make you into what you should be, if I don't know what she did, one day after another, all those days until you were grown?"
A soft hissing noise came from outside the window. It was starting to rain. Ellie sat, listening to the rain and rocking the baby. Finally she bestirred herself, got up and laid Daniel gently in his crib, next to their double bed. She got in bed and lay on her side, watching the baby while the rain lulled her to sleep.
"He needs a father. After all, he had -- Daniel had a father, growing up. This baby deserves the same."
Greg had orchestrated this outing. He was the one carrying the baby, in an outward-facing front pouch. They were walking through the park near Greg's apartment, a park with sandboxes and swings and lots of grass to run and play games on. Even the weather seemed made to order, sunny and balmy with just enough breeze, the scent of sun-warmed grass in the air. Every time Daniel pointed at another child, or kicked his legs in delight, Greg would look just a little smug before he returned his expression to earnest and imploring.
Ellie reached over to stroke Daniel's head. He had enough hair now that the curl was showing. "See the swings, Daniel? See the big wide one? That's the swing that's big enough for two. Would you like to sit on that swing with Mommy?"
Greg kept walking, speeding up a bit to pass the swing set. Ellie caught up and put her arm through his, pulling him slower. Greg turned to her and shifted his face toward gratitude, as if pure fondness had brought her to his side.
"Ellie, we've been friends so long. When you met Daniel, I was one of the first people you told, wasn't I? You've trusted me so long. Can't you trust me now? Don't you know I want what's best for both of you?"
Ellie opened her mouth and closed it again. Of course that wasn't all he wanted, but why should it be? She had always known how he felt; had counted on it. And now his feelings were her protection, hers and Daniel's. She had to be careful. Very careful.
Drowsing at dusk with Daniel asleep in her arms, Ellie listened to the wind outside the open window. Had she ever known such peace as a wife, with the first Daniel? She turned away from the question. There was too much pain waiting there.
Was that the doorbell? It wasn't a loud bell, and she could barely hear it from the upstairs bedroom. She strained to hear, so that the sudden pounding on the door made her start violently. The noise or her movement woke the baby, who started squalling.
Clutching Daniel, Ellie hurried downstairs, slowing at the steps, then almost running to the door. She reached it just as the pounding began again. Turning to the side in case the door was forced open, she leaned awkwardly to see through the peephole. It had gotten too dark for her to make out the figures. She turned on the porch light. There were two of them, a short stout man in a dark suit and a woman in police uniform.
"Just a moment!" She fumbled with the chain, unlocked the door and yanked it open, then backed away, curled around the baby to the point of stooping. Daniel had stopped crying. He seemed intrigued at the appearance of visitors, reaching out toward the woman in uniform.
"Ellie Simmons?" It was the man in the suit who spoke.
She nodded.
"My name is Andrew Farwell. This is Officer Minton. We'd like to speak with you, if you don't mind."
Farwell looked familiar. Ellie tried to remember why. "You woke the baby. What are you doing here?"
Farwell gestured toward the living room. "I'll be happy to explain. May we come in?"
Suddenly Ellie made the connection. She gasped and her arms tightened around the baby, startling him so that he started to cry again. She had seen Farwell years before, when she and Daniel had stopped by Greg's office to take him to lunch. They had not been introduced, but she was sure Farwell had been at one of the cubicles.
"Ma'am, is something wrong?"
She turned away and sat on the sofa, willing herself not to tremble. "You can come in. Sit down." She got up again. "I'll just put the baby down, and then we can talk."
The police officer spoke for the first time. Her voice was softer and more smoothing than it had any right to be. "You don't need to do that. We'd like to see the baby. What a handsome little fellow." She leaned forward toward Daniel. "Aren't you a handsome little boy? Do you have a handsome daddy?"
Farwell pulled out his tablet and called up a picture. "This is your husband, isn't it? Daniel Simmons. You would almost think he was the father, wouldn't you? There's a definite resemblance. But your husband died two years before the baby was born."
Ellie forced a chuckle. "You must have heard the saying about women marrying men like their fathers. I did it in a more obvious way than most. Daniel -- my husband Daniel -- looks quite a bit like my father and my uncles. The baby resembles them."
Farwell tapped at his tablet to bring up another picture. There they were, her father and his brothers and sisters, smiling for a Christmas photo. Farwell scrutinized the photo. "Hmm. Well, some might see a similarity. I can't say it's a striking one." He sat in an armchair and laid the tablet on an end table. "And the baby's name? Does that run in the family as well?"
Ellie sat back down on the sofa, perching on the edge. "This is ridiculous. Are you insinuating that there's something wrong with a widow honoring her husband's memory?"
Officer Minton sat next to her. "Well, now. The men I meet, maybe they're just especially insecure. But I wouldn't expect the new man in a woman's life to want a reminder of the man she used to love, every time he hears his son's name. I'm just saying."
"Ms. Simmons." Farwell took out his wallet, flipped it open and held it out to Ellie. "I'm from the Life Science Policies Department. The enforcement division. What the press call the No Clone Squad." He shook his head and smiled at her, as if inviting her to join him in disapproval of the crudity of the media. "You might as well know, we've received a communication. You might call it a tip."
Daniel started to whimper. He was getting hungry. She couldn't feed him now, not when she needed to concentrate, to stay sharp and clear.
"He's just a baby!"
Officer Minton reached out and patted Daniel's knee. "Well, ma'am. Clones start out as babies, just like real people. Still clones, though."
Daniel was getting louder. Ellie felt milk dribbling from her nipples and wetting her blouse. "This is outrageous. Any -- any troublemaker can call, and you come running to harass people?"
"Ms. Simmons, there are corroborating circumstances. We've already discussed some of them. And at the hospital, you didn't list the baby's father."
Greg had been right. She should have given his name. But listing him as the father had felt like a trap.
That was then. Clearly it was time to name him now.
"Mr. Farwell. I'm very sorry you've been taken advantage of. Used. Someone is making mischief, causing embarrassment, and you and Officer Minton have been the tools --"
Farwell stood up and loomed over her. "Ma'am, compared to the societal values at stake, your embarrassment can hardly be our primary concern."
Ellie laughed outright. Now she was the one springing a trap. "Oh, not mine, Mr. Farwell. I'm afraid you will need to be concerned about who you've embarrassed. It's your boss, Mr. Farwell. Greg Atterbury. He's Daniel's father. And if he had wanted the matter discussed, do you think we would be having this conversation?"
Farwell stepped back. He looked over at Officer Minton, who shrugged and pointed to Farwell's pocket. Farwell took out his phone, staring at Ellie as he did so.
"Sir, it's Farwell. I'm sorry to disturb you at home." He spoke louder over Daniel's shrill wailing. "A uniform and I were checking out a tip -- a rather promising one, we thought -- and, ah --" He stopped and listened. "A Ms. Simmons. At 422 Cromwell Place --" He paused again. "Yes. Yes, sir. The informant -- yes, of course. I'll forward you the file." He listened again. The policewoman was looking at Farwell, waiting. He nodded toward her. Ellie sagged back into the sofa cushions.
Farwell turned his full attention back
to the phone. "Yes, I will. And to you, sir, I apologize to you as well." He cleared his throat. "And sir -- may I say -- congratulations." He put away his phone. "Ms. Simmons. I'm very sorry, ma'am, to have upset you, and disturbed your household. Mr. Atterbury asked me to tell you that he's coming right over. And to say that he's through with the secrecy. He's coming over to talk about making things right."
Ellie lifted her blouse, pulled out her breast and pulled Daniel close. She gave herself up to the sweet tingle and pang of the baby's nursing, ignoring the intruders, as if they were already gone. After a while, they left.
Greg sat close to Ellie on the sofa, holding her hand. He was talking, talking, almost babbling, full of sympathy and reassurance and concern. "You must have been so frightened. I'm so sorry. I don't know how this tip got through to Assignment without my seeing it." He stroked her fingers. "It's all right now. It's all taken care of. It'll never happen again."
Ellie shook her head, looking down. She spoke quietly, almost whispering. "No, it won't. It can't, can it? Now that you've claimed him." She looked toward him and then away. "Claimed us."
"Ellie. Darling. I'm sorry if events have -- pushed you faster than you were ready for. But you must see. This is the only way. The only way I can protect you and Daniel. You and I -- we have to keep him safe. We can do that, but we have to do it together." Greg cocked his head. "I think I hear Daniel. Shall I fetch him?"
Ellie stood up. "No, I'll go settle him back down. You and I need some more time to talk, without distractions. We have plans to make." She bent over and forced her hand into relaxed softness, stroked his hair. "I know it's for the best. Really. Daniel would have wanted it this way. Since he can't be with me -- not really -- he'd want you to be there, taking care of both of us." She kissed the top of his head. "Wait right here, please. Make yourself a drink, if you'd like. I'll be right back."
She hurried out of the room. As she rounded the corner, she wiped her mouth hard with the back of her hand. She went on into the bedroom. Daniel was standing in his crib, looking for her. He reached up as she approached, smiling his baby smile.
The Baby - a short story Page 1
