Friday Night Flights

by Susan X Meagher

  For the next fifteen minutes she patted Lisbet while she cried, simultaneously balancing her laptop on one leg asking Doctor Internet what in the hell could be wrong. No fever. No hunger. Nothing pinching her. Then she specified Lisbet’s age and had to stop herself from picking up the computer and smacking herself in the head with it. Teething! How had she not been better prepared? Lisbet had steadfastly refused a pacifier, so she’d never used one. Now she didn’t have a nice, safe, BPA-free teething ring to soothe the child’s erupting gum. Tiptoeing into the kitchen, she wet a washcloth and put it into the freezer, hoping it would quickly get cold enough to help a little.

  As she walked back toward the hall she heard her friend and roommate, Freya, mutter, “Will this stop soon?”

  “I’m doing my best,” she said, only slightly irritated to have Freya imply that she had complete control over this.

  “I’ve got a meeting at eight, Avery, and I have to be sharp.”

  “Do you want me to get you some earplugs?”

  “I sleep with them in every night,” she said, with an edge to her voice that Avery had never heard.

  “I’m really sorry. The baby’s teething, I think. She’s in pain, but I’m doing my best to calm her down.”

  “My mother always put a little Akvavit on the gums.”

  “Um, I don’t have any Akvavit on me,” Avery said, “and I don’t think I want to start giving her liquor to calm her down.”

  The inadequate blinds in the dining room made the space bright enough to read by, and Avery could see that Freya was wearing just a tank top and her underwear. She tossed her feet to the floor and got up in one smooth movement, then went to the chair by her futon and picked up her jeans. “Naveed is always up. I’ll go sleep on her sofa.”

  “I might be able to calm her down soon,” Avery said, even though she had no idea how to manage that. “I hate to have you out alone at this time of night.”

  “Fine. Then pay for an Uber for me.” She’d stopped getting dressed, and now glared at Avery, another first in their seven year friendship.

  “Oh…okay.” She went into her room, got her phone, then pulled up the app and handed the phone over. “Go ahead and enter the address.”

  Grumbling to herself, Freya did, then pulled out a tote bag and started putting clothes and toiletries into it. “This can’t go on,” she said, pulling out her earplugs and dropping them onto the bed. “I haven’t said a word up until now because I thought this was time-limited.”

  “I think it is…”

  “My car will be here in three minutes,” she said, handing the phone back. “We’ll talk at work.”

  “I’m so sorry, Freya. Really, I am.”

  “So am I,” she said, grabbing her purse and padding across the room in her bare feet. She took her shoes from the spot she always kept them and left the apartment, closing the door quietly.

  Avery continued to stare at the door, completely befuddled by Freya’s anger. She hadn’t said a thing when Lisbet was shrieking every two hours when she was a newborn. Why now?”

  ***

  At four o’clock in the morning, the baby was still so upset that she wouldn’t latch. These were the darks nights that tried mothers’ souls, or at least it seemed that way at the moment. When a baby was so hungry she wouldn’t eat, there wasn’t a viable workaround. Avery was kind of glad she hadn’t gone to med school, because if she’d had the ability to hook Lisbet up to an IV, she would have done it without guilt. Well, maybe just a little guilt.

  ***

  Avery shot upright when her alarm sounded, but when she put a hand down, it hit the baby. “Oh, my God!”

  She lunged for her, hyperventilating until she was sure Lisbet was breathing. Then she clasped her to her chest and dropped into her rocking chair to call her mom.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, sounding awake but alarmed.

  “I fell asleep with Lisbet in my bed. I put her life at risk, Mom! I must’ve been so tired I fell asleep while nursing.”

  “Is she all right?” she asked, now using her usual tone of voice. Calm and unflappable.

  “Yes. Yes,” she sighed, relieved when the baby rooted against her, clearly ready for breakfast. “She’s ready to nurse.”

  “You need more sleep, sweetheart. You’re not able to function on so little.”

  “What new mom isn’t tired? This was bad mostly because I think she’s started teething. Why I didn’t have a cold teething ring is the fridge is another item on my long list of things I’ve screwed up.”

  “Oh, right. The teething police are going to pick on you. You’re clearly the worst mother in Brooklyn.”

  “I know I’m not,” she sighed. “But there’s so much to know.”

  “You’re learning all of it, just like everyone does. Now feed that baby, feed yourself, and get to work.”

  “Oh, shit! This is a work day?”

  “Is has been every other week.”

  “Thanks,” Avery said, wishing she could crawl through the phone line for a hug. Being the one to always be the soother left her craving soothing of her own. But she had to be careful about how much she complained. Giving her mom more ammunition about how crazy it was to try to raise the baby alone in Brooklyn was an awful idea.

  ***

  Avery got Lisbet dressed, then set her on the floor in the bathroom with a couple of toys while she took a lighting-fast shower. It took another fifteen minutes to get dressed, trying to look presentable for the weekly all-hands meeting.

  After walking the seven blocks to the only daycare she’d been able to find that took infants, she checked her phone, seeing they were on time. The fee at this place was shockingly high, but the women who ran it were pleasant, and Lisbet never seemed to mind being dropped off. Until today. Avery had just entered the door to the infants room when Lisbet started to cry, using the same frantic wail she’d developed in the middle of the night. After talking with Ramona and Jasmine, the two main caregivers for infants, they all agreed that Lisbet was just teething. But that didn’t make it any easier to leave her. Lisbet sat against a support pillow on the floor, disconsolate, while Ramona sat next to her, stroking her beet-red face.

  “She’ll be fine,” she said, smiling at Avery. “Every baby does this sometimes. Don’t worry!” She was clearly trying to be reassuring, but leaving your baby when she truly seemed to need you felt like cutting off a limb. Avery bit her lip to stop from crying right along with Lisbet, then blew her a kiss, and stepped outside the door, able to hear her cry almost as loudly as she had in the middle of the night. The daycare place was on the corner of Smith and Union, both commercial streets, but there were apartment buildings right behind it. Those residents were either very good-natured, woefully unhappy, or stone deaf.

  ***

  The all-hands meeting went pretty well, and Avery was happy with the universal approval she got when she announced that Sonya Federansky was going to read at the October edition of Short Shorts. Avery had sealed the deal, even though Helena, her managing editor, had set the wheels in motion.

  When the meeting broke up, Freya approached, looking a little sheepish. Helena always ordered in a buffet lunch after their weekly meeting, and Freya said, “Why don’t we pick up some food and go sit outside.”

  “Love to,” Avery said, relieved to see that Freya wasn’t still upset. Today’s lunch was from a Mexican place that was usually reliable, and they each made two tacos and added some black beans and a little saffron rice before they went out.

  Their office was in an old building in Brooklyn Heights near the river, not too far from the park the city had created when Freya had just started working for Ad Infinitum. Avery had a number of fond memories of sitting outside in the summer, getting to know her new colleague while trying to ignore the dust, dirt and noise that came from any building project.

  They sat on a bench in the full sun, soaking in the rays for the few minutes they’d have to spend. Neither of them ever set aside more than fifte
en minutes for lunch, and even that was a rarity. Avery appreciated that Freya had gone out of her way to make a peace offering.

  “I’m so sorry I was angry this morning.” Freya took a breath. “I know none of this is your fault, Avery, and I know you’re doing the best you cn.”

  “It’s all right,” Avery started to say, but Freya continued.

  “But…” She pursed her lips for a second, then spit it out. “I can’t get by with so little sleep. If I stay, I’ll start to resent you, and I don’t want that. I want our friendship to survive this.”

  “You’re leaving?” She stared at her, totally stunned.

  “I don’t want to. I don’t. I’ve been thinking things would be fine soon, with Lisbet sleeping through the night. But I called my sister this morning, and she says the next year can be just as bad as when Lisbet was a newborn if she has teething pain.”

  “No!” she gasped, wholly unprepared for that.

  “I hope my sister is wrong, but she’s a pediatrician…”

  “I don’t think I can handle another year of this,” Avery said, ready to cry.

  “I need my sleep,” Freya continued, “and when I don’t get it I snap at people.” She reached out and touched Avery’s arm. “I love Lisbet. Truly, I do. But I can’t live with you any more.”

  “What… When will you leave?”

  “As soon as I can. Actually, I might crash on Naveed’s sofa until I find a place. I need my sleep,” she said again. “It’s not a wish, it’s a need.”

  “But I can’t pay your share of the rent,” Avery said, trying not to cry. “With the added expenses from the baby, I’m already struggling…”

  “I’ll pay my share until our lease is up. If you can find someone quickly, you can renew the new lease they just sent us. If not…” She shrugged, looking upset but resolved. “I wish I could stay, but I can’t.”

  She looked over at Freya, profoundly disappointed. “I understand. If I could have moved away last night, I would have too.”

  “I’m sorry,” Freya said one more time. “I thought… I thought it would get easier.”

  Avery gazed at her for a moment, and allowed herself to say the unvarnished truth. “So did I.”

  ***

  Avery had gotten through the afternoon, but she’d been distracted and forgetful, two qualities that were very rare for her—at least before she’d gotten pregnant. She was a different person now. A much less focused person, and it was showing in her work.

  She had a face-to-face meeting with one of the writers for their November issue scheduled for four, so she went into their conference room at three to pump, determined to have her milk stored away, with time leftover to put on a modicum of makeup and check that her hair was combed.

  A hand on her shoulder woke her, making her cry out sharply. Avery looked up to see Helena, her editor-in-chief, giving her a look that showed both empathy and disappointment.

  “How much sleep are you getting?” she asked gently.

  “Not enough,” Avery admitted. “Lisbet had a very bad night. She’s started teething and I wasn’t prepared…”

  “I understand,” she soothed. “But you can’t sleep here, Avery. Is there no one who can help?”

  “No one,” Avery admitted, refusing to reveal that even Freya was abandoning her.

  “We’re going to have to work something out. I’m not sure what we can do, but we have to do something. Your editorial work is suffering, you’ve not brought in your usual number of new writers, and there are no new venues scheduled for Short Shorts for the rest of the year.”

  “I’ve admittedly been coasting for a few months. But Lisbet should be sleeping through the night soon. That will help. I know it will.”

  Helena put her hand on Avery’s back and patted it gently. “When I had Cameron, I tried to get by with just Clive’s help. That was a mistake,” she said clearly. “It put strains on our marriage that we never recovered from. So when I remarried and we had Wyatt, we hired a night nurse. Yes, it was expensive, but it was worth every dollar.” She cocked her head, with her very chic haircut showing the perfection of the style as her long bob swayed for a moment. If Helena was sincerely suggesting that Avery could afford someone to come to her house and watch the baby all night, she’d obviously forgotten the correct number of digits in her salary.

  ***

  That night, Avery lay in her bed, worrying about her job. She’d been at Ad Infinitum since she’d gotten her MFA, and had relished each day—some more than others, of course. But she’d always acknowledged how lucky she was. AI was run by a nonprofit that had been set up by a very successful engineer who’d also been a novelist. It had always been a subscription-based magazine, now one of the very few left in America. Because they didn’t have a corporate overlord, nor did they have to turn a profit, they’d always had the ability to set their own path.

  Helena had hired Avery, and they were, in many ways, close. But Helena always put the magazine first, as she should have. She was a writer herself, and a good one at that, but she was an even better editor-in-chief, able to keep one eye on the budget, while fostering top-quality fiction, poetry, and long-form nonfiction, along with a bit of investigative journalism.

  Every department had to pull its own weight in every way. No slacking-off, no sub-par content, no frivolous spending. Even though Avery hated to admit it, she’d been slacking-off, and had been for months. She wasn’t scouting venues, she wasn’t reading every publication to find new talent, and she wasn’t helping out with copyediting when they were under deadline. In short, Helena had every right to call her out. But what could she do to get back to normal?

  The baby started to fuss, and she got up to feed her, doing it mechanically this time, hoping she ate quickly. They were going to have to find a new roommate, or they were going to have to find a much cheaper apartment. But that would undoubtedly mean lucking out on a studio in a distant neighborhood. She was certain the only reason things had been as smooth as they had been so far was because daycare was on the way to her office, a mere thirty minute walk after dropping Lisbet off. If she had to move, that would change—for the worse.

  Chapter Five

  The crowd was big and boisterous for Kaaterskill Brewery’s Friday Night Flights. Since the early August evening was warm and dry, they’d set the band up outside under some hastily strung lights, which turned out to be kind of charming.

  Casey stood near the entry to the Greenhouse Pub and watched the crowd, relishing being outdoors on such a perfect night. She’d have to spend a good amount of time inside later, but she was delaying that as long as possible. Outside was almost always better than inside—in August, at least.

  She was about to go get a couple of tacos from the food truck when she spotted Ken Nichols carrying Lisbet through the crowd. With her excitement building, Casey threaded her way over to him, hoping she could convince him to hand the baby over for a while.

  “Hi, there,” she said, moving around so she could see Lisbet’s face. “My God! She’s like a whole new person!”

  He laughed, nodding. “It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her, and I’m not sure I would have recognized her.”

  “You’re not alone, are you?”

  “Oh, no. Kathy’s getting me a beer, and Avery’s looking for a bathroom. Business as usual.”

  “You might not know this,” she said, lowering her voice, “but I’ve been trained on how to attach and remove that snuggly carrier.” She waggled her eyebrows, trying to look like she was telling him a very interesting secret. “Any chance I could carry her around? I’d love to introduce Lisbet to my friends.”

  He agreed a little faster than he probably should have. “Great! I shouldn’t be dripping hot sauce on her head, and God knows I’m going to eat a few tacos. My mouth’s already watering, and all I’ve done is smell them.”

  “Let’s do it,” Casey said, already reaching around to unclip the strap that went around his waist. The baby was wide awake, look
ing around curiously as Casey helped slip the straps from Ken’s shoulders. “Got her,” she said, holding Lisbet securely while Ken tugged the carrier away. Casey held her up in the air, letting her little legs dangle. “I love Friday Night Flights,” she said, unable to suppress what she was sure was a giddy grin, “but Lisbet just took this joint from an eight to a ten.” She put Lisbet to her shoulder, careful to support the back of her head, even though she thought her neck muscles were strong enough at this point. “Has she eaten?”

  “She’s good to go.” He waved to someone, then added, “And so am I. Beer delivery.”

  Kathy approached and handed him a glass, with Casey noting she’d chosen a soda for herself. “Hi, there,” Kathy said. “We were hoping you’d be around.”

  “Almost always,” Casey said. “I talked Ken into handing Lisbet over, so I thought I’d take her around and introduce her to everyone. Is that cool?”

  “Everyone?” Kathy laughed. “There must be two hundred people here, Casey.”

  “Well, just my friends. I won’t be gone long.”

  “Take your time.” She scanned the crowd, and spoke quietly. “Avery’s had a rough couple of weeks. I think she could use a baby vacation.” She patted Lisbet’s adorable head. “Don’t rush back.”

  “Sure? You might regret saying that…”

  “Avery fed her on the ride up, so she won’t need to eat for three or four hours. As you’ve learned, you’ll know when she’s hungry.”

  Ken’s eyes widened. “It’s been a while since I’ve been around a baby, but I sure don’t remember Avery crying like this one does. It doesn’t seem physically possible.”

  Casey held the baby in her arms and leaned her back so she could speak right into her face. “This little pumpkin has very well-developed lungs. She’s a child prodigy.”

  “She’s a human fire alarm,” Ken said, reaching over to tickle under her chin.

  One of the young brewery workers passed by and Casey called out to him. “Hey, Jackson, do me a favor?”

  “Sure,” he said, sticking his hands into his pockets as he waited for instruction.