Rose came over every morning at eight to help. I had once mentioned that she didn’t have to; I could hire help in the mornings. My ears were still ringing from her scathing response. The Petrie family had never been afraid to hire people: cleaners, nannies, chauffeurs, landscapers, personal shoppers—you name it. We had phone numbers to cover all bases.
The Cavanaughs wouldn’t hear of it. Sarah had grown accustomed to Miranda, my cleaning lady, even after a minor bump in the road when she thought Miranda was moonlighting as a prostitute. Miranda, of course, never did such a thing. Actually, it was my evil ex, who was prostituting herself to support her drinking, combined with one of my fibs that led Sarah to believe such a thing about the ever-devoted Miranda.
Another Petrie coup involved yard work. Our lawn wasn’t massive, but I still hated mowing it and pruning the bushes. Sarah had broken down last March and permitted me to hire a high school kid, who was saving for college. During the winter, the kid, who lives two doors down, shovels our sidewalks and drive whenever it snows. When he graduates from high school next year, I’ll have to search high and low to find another kid who’s saving for college, so Sarah can’t say no.
Childcare was a whole different ballgame. No stranger would ever suffice. Sarah was taking the entire school year off, but there was already talk about her staying home until the twins were of school age. Even then, she’d probably only work part-time. Luckily, we could afford for her not to work. Rose didn’t have a job either, so she was our go-to babysitter and helper during the day. Maddie popped by most nights. We were extremely fortunate to have both of them.
Sarah gently placed Freddie back into his crib. We stood and watched him settle, before she grabbed my hand and led us to our bedroom. After climbing under the covers, she snuggled her head on my chest. I tapped the screens of both baby monitors to ensure they were working properly, something I couldn’t stop myself from doing several times a night.
“You’re going to break them.” She laughed quietly.
“Do you think I did?” I swiveled my head to check the screens.
Sarah patted my chest. “It’s fine. You need to get some rest before your big day. You nervous?”
“Nah,” I lied, ignoring my frazzled nerves. “It’s not my first time teaching.”
She sighed. “I thought we talked about this. No more lying. It’s okay to be nervous. You’ve been out of the classroom for a few years. Besides, the first day is always nerve-racking for the students and teacher.”
I shrugged. “I’m trying not to think about it.”
She draped her arm over my shoulder and dropped off to sleep. I held her tightly in my arms, keeping my eyes on the baby monitors, waiting for my shift.
***
“I see you’ve been on baby duty.” Dr. Marcel placed a hand on my rumpled shoulder.
I smiled sheepishly. That morning, when I’d looked in the mirror, I spied large black circles under my eyes. “With two, it’s all hands on deck 24/7.”
He chortled. “I know. My identical twin boys had me tied in knots. I’m not sure I’ve had a good night’s rest since then, over forty years ago. Being a parent changes you. For the better, of course.” His kind eyes put me at ease.
Dr. Winterspoon stood outside Dr. Marcel’s office door and motioned that he needed to talk to my mentor.
“Good luck with your first class today, Lizzie. I know you’ll be fine. Glad to have you officially on board.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s an honor.”
His face broke into a grin. “No more sir business. Call me Frank. All the professors do.” Dr. Marcel waddled toward his office and greeted Dr. Winterspoon with a handshake, ushering the American environmental historian into his office.
The main office overflowed with students, all badgering the three admins with a barrage of questions. I pirouetted through the crowd to my mailbox and flipped open a manila folder stuffed with papers I’d requested one of the admins print out for me. I glanced at the top copy of the syllabus, satisfied that it was ready for me to hand out at my ten o’clock class.
In my office, I slipped a navy blazer off a hook on the back of my door and put it on. Sarah and Maddie had insisted on a pantsuit for my first class of the semester. I grabbed my leather satchel, which contained my laptop and handwritten notes on the off chance my laptop failed at any point during the lecture.
The classroom was empty the hour prior to my teaching slot, allowing me to get accustomed to the technology and space. I didn’t like to stay put behind a podium. I preferred to roam in the front, jotting dates and names on the whiteboard.
Unlike my teaching days during grad school, the class size was much smaller—only thirty students were enrolled in the history of the Weimar Republic. The room was one of the older, more neglected ones on campus. It was in the Animal Science building, and the lingering stench of embalming fluid or whatnot was testimony to what usually occurred in the labs. During my grad days, I’d taught in one of the larger lecture halls next door to the human anatomy room and could never help peeking at the cadavers, even though I told myself it was disrespectful. The brown carpet in today’s small room had seen better days, and the walls were scuffed with random black marks. However, the podium had been recently installed, and the whiteboards behind and to the side gleamed. There were six rows with six desks in each row.
I plugged in my laptop and flipped through the PowerPoint slides, mentally ticking off all the points I wanted to make. My cell phone vibrated, and I read Sarah’s text: Good luck. I’m so proud of you!
I dashed off a thank-you and asked whether the twins missed me and how she was doing. All I got back was a smiley face. I understood. She had her hands full, but I’d hoped for a bit more information. I didn’t want to perpetuate the Petrie family misery by having a disconnect between my work and home life.
A handful of students strolled in, putting a halt to my parental worries. Probably a good thing since I was imagining things that hadn’t happened.
Show time, Lizzie.
“Dr. Petrie?” A young woman with a timid smile approached. “I’m hoping I can register for your class even though it’s full.”
I nodded, expecting at least one last-minute student who was desperate to get some much-needed credits to graduate. “You’re the first to ask. I can’t make any promises, but I might be able to approve an override. If you can sit in on class today and Thursday, I’ll do my best.” I transcribed her details.
“Thank you, Dr. Petrie.”
“Lizzie, please. Dr. Petrie is too clinical for my liking.”
She laughed heartily, which bolstered my confidence, but deep down I knew she wanted one thing from me: three credits to graduate.
Moments later, the clock and more students in their seats indicated it was now or never. I said, “Welcome, everyone. Just to make sure, this is the History of the Weimar Republic. Everyone in the right room?” I scanned the thirty something individuals, noting only a few empty chairs. No one made a move. “Great. Let’s get started.”
The hour and fifteen minutes flew by, and the rush I normally experienced after a successful lecture flooded my body. It was good to be back.
Several students bum-rushed to the front, hoping to be first in line. The first few classes always required a little handholding before the routine settled in for the rest of the semester.
“Lizzie,” called a student to my right.
“Lizzie,” said another from my left.
“Lizzie,” a student called from behind me.
I laughed. “Don’t worry. I have time. Let’s head to my office and see how I can help.”
A gray-haired professor made his way to the podium to prepare for his class as my small troupe, now five strong, plodded outside with me. We made it to my office, three buildings down. I’d forgotten how youthful and energetic college students were. I was willing to bet none of them had three-week-old twins at home.
The thought of
my two babes put extra pep in my step as well since I wanted to finish up early and be home by lunch, if possible.
Inside my office, I rubbed my hands together. “Who’s first?”
They all jabbered at once.
***
I walked in the front room to find Sarah, Maddie, and the twins all there. Freddie slept in a roomy clay flowerpot, surrounded by roses and other blooms I couldn’t name, and Ollie was napping in a red wagon that was stuffed with fresh daisies, fake bees, and butterflies.
I stopped in my tracks. “What’s going on?”
“We’re taking photos.” Maddie held a brand-spanking-new Canon Rebel to her eye as she hovered over Freddie, clicking away.
Sarah, sitting on the floor and rubbing Ollie’s back, smiled at me. “How was your first class?”
“Is he okay?” I motioned to Fred, who didn’t seem that uncomfortable in the reddish pot, but I’d never napped in one myself, so what did I know?
“Nope. I’m allowing Maddie to torture my babies while I sit idly by.” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes spoke the truth.
I threw my hands up. “Just checking.” Leaning down, I kissed the top of Sarah’s head. “My class went well, I think. It’s been a long time, so who knows? Kids these days probably expect me to speak in hashtags and abbreviated text speak.” I shrugged.
Maddie lowered her camera. “Hashtag Weimar history rocks.”
I smiled. “Not sure I got that point across yet. Early days. And I may need to come up with a more believable tagline concerning the Weimar Republic, considering what it led to.” I sank into the couch, resting my head against the back, eyes closed.
The couch cushion listed to the left, and I sensed Sarah straddling me. I reached out and put my hands on her ass right as the click of the camera snapped my eyes open. I was fondling Maddie.
“Shit, Maddie!”
She waved away my alarm. “Close your eyes like you were.” She focused the camera, explaining why she was so up-close and personal.
“Don’t they have lenses for close-ups? What are you photographing, anyway? My eyelashes?” I groaned, and craned my neck around her to gauge Sarah’s reaction to my accidentally grabbing our best friend’s ass.
Sarah, now cradling Freddie, shook her head with an absent smile that communicated I haven’t slept in days, so let’s pretend that didn’t happen. “Maddie is taking a photography class. She wants to be the next Anne Geddes.”
“Maybe next time Ms. Geddes could warn me when she climbs into my lap.”
“You have no appreciation for art,” Maddie said.
“You have no appreciation for personal space.” I smooshed my eyes closed again.
“Poor Lizzie. Beat from teaching one class. How will you cope next semester when you’re teaching two classes?”
“I’ll cross that bridge when it comes.” I yawned.
“Stop fidgeting.” Maddie tapped my forehead with an ice-cold finger.
I complied, not for her benefit but out of sheer exhaustion. I’d had maybe three hours of sleep last night, an hour less than my new norm.
The peace was shattered by Ollie letting out a howler monkey screech. I shoved Maddie, and she laughed, still snapping photos as she rolled on her side on the couch. “Action photos. I love it!”
“It’s okay, Ollie.” I scooped my daughter into my arms. “I won’t let Maddie torture you anymore.” Sure enough, she stopped crying and settled into my arms. I eased into a leather chair across the room from the mad photographer and nuzzled Olivia onto my shoulder, all the while giving Maddie the stink eye. More than likely, Ollie’s crying had nothing to do with Maddie, but my sleep-deprived brain wasn’t completely operational.
Freddie started to fuss, so Sarah instinctively unbuttoned her shirt and helped him latch on to a nipple. “Ouch!” Her face contorted. “Take it easy, shark boy.”
The click of Maddie’s camera continued, but neither Sarah nor I said anything, resigned to her new hobby.
“Someday, you’ll thank me for capturing these moments,” Maddie crowed.
“What would we do without you?” I closed my eyes again.
“Well, aren’t all of you a barrel of monkeys today?”
“Says the woman without two screaming infants to care for.” Sarah laughed. “Oh, Lizzie, before I space out and forget this, my mom and Helen are coming for lunch on Sunday.”
That grabbed my attention. “Your mom is friends with my father’s mistress? When did that happen?”
“Helen isn’t your father’s mistress.” Sarah’s narrowed eyes didn’t intimidate me.
“Only because my mom is dead. Who knows how long they carried on while Mom was alive?”
“Roughly twenty years,” Maddie said.
“You’ve got to be joking.” Ollie stirred in my arms, and I murmured, “Sorry, munchkin. Mommy will be quiet.”
Maddie tapped her index finger against her thumb several times. In case I didn’t understand the movement, she added, “Zip it.”
“I think Helen’s a lovely woman. Your father is a lucky man.”
I flashed back to how they’d interacted at the hospital. They had seemed like a happy, loving couple, but I was still having a hard time accepting it at face value—unlike Sarah, who was so determined to be surrounded by family for the twins’ sake that she was willing to stick her head in the sand.
Sarah stood. “Time for Freddie’s nap.”
I motioned that I’d follow with Ollie, but my wife shook her head. “She seems cozy with you. Me, I’m dying for a shower.”
Maddie tagged along after her to the nursery.
I rubbed my cheek against the soft, sparse hair covering Olivia’s head, inhaling her wonderful baby scent.
The click, click of Maddie’s camera intruded on my quiet time with Ollie, and I sighed.
“Sarah wouldn’t let me take photos of her in the shower,” Maddie said. “I thought you’d appreciate them.” She giggled. “She wants to wait until she’s in better shape.”
I would appreciate naked photos of my wife, but I’d rather take them myself. “Please tell me you didn’t just try to photograph my wife in the shower.”
She shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“Maybe we should discuss boundaries, if you plan to continue with photography.”
“What do you mean if I continue?” Her tone was razor blade sharp.
I didn’t have the energy to remind her about her cooking classes. “I’m only saying you can’t take any opportunity to get a shot.”
“I wonder if Annie Liebovitz faced this much hate when she started out?”
“Liebovitz? I thought you wanted to be Geddes.”
“I don’t want to be like anyone. I want people to associate me with my own art.”
“May I make a suggestion?”
She nodded eagerly.
“Take after Ansel Adams. We have a few Aspen trees in the backyard you can start with. Work your way up to waterfalls.”
“Why do I even talk to you?”
“I wonder that all the time.” I winked at her. “How many classes have you had?”
“None. First class is this Saturday.”
I laughed. “I wish half of my students were like you—doing homework before there’s any homework to do.”
“Photography is cool. History is in the past.”
“Technically, you got the concept right.”
She rolled her eyes. “How do you feel about Helen?”
I’d only met Dad’s love interest once, but she was quickly inserting herself into my life. “For a mistress, she seems nice.”
“I think you need to get out of that mindset. It’s not fair to her.”
I shook my head, careful not to wake Ollie. “How is it not fair? You’re the one who said they’d been together for two decades. All that time, Dad was married to my mother.”
“Who was a miserable woman.” Maddie put up one palm a
nd let the camera dangle around her neck on a strap. “Don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”
“I thought you’d feel differently about this.”
“Why? Because Peter cheated on me?”
I nodded enthusiastically.
“Don’t act so excited about it. Sometimes, I really wonder about you.” The serene expression on her face said the opposite.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant I thought you’d be on my side.”
“Your side? This isn’t about taking sides. This is about life. About your parents’ marriage. And let’s face it; that wasn’t on strong footing, even without the Helen factor.”
“I never said my mom was pleasant or easy to get along with. But if he loved this other woman—?”
“Helen.”
“This Helen. Why didn’t he divorce Mom?”
“Life isn’t always black and white.”
“Like photography?” I joked.
She huffed. “Are you going to act like an adult now?”
“Is it so bad that your dad is marrying Helen?” Sarah returned, having showered and dressed in record time.
I stroked my chin. “I don’t know how to answer that question.”
“Charades? I’d love to see you act out your answer.” Maddie waved for me to give it a go.
“You know, I think you missed your true calling. Stand-up comedian.” I shifted Ollie’s head into a more comfortable position.
“It’s not too late for me. If one video goes viral on YouTube, I’ll be rolling in it.”
“I’m sure you can find a class. You’ve been a whiz at signing up for random things.”
Ollie stirred in her sleep. I wanted to kiss her precious head, and I would have if I wasn’t enjoying the peace and quiet so much. Someone once told me that the “lump” stage of babies was the best one.
Sarah sat at my feet, resting her hands and chin on my thighs. “They’re so sweet when they’re sleeping.”
“That they are.”
“What do you mean you don’t know how to answer?” she whispered, ruining my hope that the conversation was over.
“That’s exactly what I mean. I don’t know how to answer.”
A Family Woman Page 16