“Lisbet Kendall. I’d always thought I’d name a daughter Elizabeth, since some of my favorite writers share that name, but given her donor’s Danish, I went with the Danish equivalent.” She laughed. “My mom thinks I named her after my first girlfriend, which is kind of weird. Why would I name my baby after the first woman who broke my heart?”
Casey gave her a playful look, hoping Avery could take a joke. “Well, when you have a baby because of a dare when you’re on vacation…”
“Okay, my mom was justified in thinking I’d lost my senses. But I love the name, and I like that it’s both very common and very uncommon.”
“There’s a guy at work who named his daughter Soffya. With two f’s and a y. I think he and his girlfriend had the same idea as you did in trying to be unique, but the kid’s going to hate having to spell it like six times whenever she meets someone new.”
“I haven’t had much trouble with Lisbet, but a few people have spelled it with a ‘z.’ I can live with that.”
Casey leaned back and looked at her for a second. “You know, you’re awfully calm about…everything. I don’t think I would be if I was a new mom.”
She smiled and batted her eyes. “Count your blessings you didn’t run into me right after Lisbet was born. I was a worried mess for a couple of months.” She stopped, with her eyes narrowing briefly. “I stayed with my parents during my measly six weeks of maternity leave, but once I returned to Brooklyn I quickly got over myself. I had to gut it up and get on with life, which I think was the best thing for me.”
“Do you miss it? Brooklyn, that is.”
“Not yet. I’m sure I will when I have a craving for a good curry or something else I can’t easily get here. But the Hudson Valley’s more diverse than it was when we were kids. I’ll be able to stick it out for a few years.”
Casey stared at her. “Just a few years?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m going back as soon as I can manage it. I’ve already got applications in for pre-K. If Lisbet gets into a place I can afford, we’ll go back when she’s three.”
“That’s awfully soon,” Casey said. “Won’t you have all of the same problems that made you leave?”
“No,” she said, clearly having through this through. “I don’t think so. Pre-K will be much less expensive than daycare. And if I have more time I might be able to find a roommate. Maybe another single mom.”
“Mmm,” Casey said, nodding. “If you really want to go back, I have a feeling you’ll make it work.” She watched Lisbet chew on her mother’s finger, reminding herself to enjoy the baby as much as she could while she was still young—and in the same county.
***
They spent a half hour sitting on the porch, watching fireflies come to life. Avery didn’t know as much about them as Casey did, but they seemed to enjoy them equally well.
“When I was a kid, the trees came much closer to the house,” Casey said. “I’d go running after the lightning bugs and would almost always trip over a root or run right into a trunk. Toughened me up,” she said, laughing a little.
“Your grandmother must have been chasing you the whole time!”
“Oh, no, not at all. She didn’t believe in babying kids. I can still hear her sitting on the porch, kind of distractedly yelling, ‘Rub it off’ when I’d hurt myself. I learned not to cry for attention.”
“Ooo. But a little girl needs attention.”
“Yeah, but not too much. I think it’s a mistake to make a kid feel like every little bump and bruise is a major event.” A very sober look settled onto her face. “I’d want my kid to be physically resilient, but I wouldn’t try to toughen them up emotionally. That never works.”
“Um…personal experience?” Avery asked tentatively.
“Kind of. My grandmother thought I was a baby for being afraid of the basement. She made fun of me for that instead of reassuring me. That…wasn’t great,” she added. “I was lucky that I was pretty tough in general. My sister was kind of a wimp, and even as a kid I could tell my grandmother wasn’t crazy about her.”
“Casey! Your grandmother didn’t like your sister?”
“She was a wimp,” she said, clearly teasing. “I was riding my bike over here when I was in first grade, and my sister was afraid to go with me, even though she was in sixth. W.I.M.P.,” she added, still smiling.
“Toughen up,” Avery whispered, leaning over to speak into Lisbet’s ear. “The Van Dykes don’t put up with any nonsense.”
“I’ll admit the Van Dykes are bad,” Casey said, “but the Gerritsens are worse.”
***
Casey picked up all of the trash from their meal, and tucked it back into the bag she’d brought everything in. “I’d leave this here, but I bet you don’t have a trash can.”
“All true. It’s hard to pry money out of my hands, but I’m not cheap enough to have to run out to the bin every time I have to throw something away.”
“I’ll take this stuff with me. Are you good? Need anything?”
“Um…would you think I was a wimp if I asked you to look around to make sure no one’s hiding under the bed?”
“Under the bed? Really?” She gazed into Avery’s eyes, seeing she was a little embarrassed to have asked.
“Uh-huh,” she said, nodding soberly. “Mad killers sneak into houses in broad daylight, then hide under the bed until everyone’s asleep. Common knowledge,” she said, with just a hint of a smile showing.
“I’m game. Do you want to stay out here while I look? Or might a different, but no less murderous person snatch you right off the porch while I’m gone?”
“Thanks! I never considered there’d be two!”
“Come inside with me,” Casey said, purposefully soothing her voice. “While you make sure your doors are locked, I’ll check both upstairs and down.”
“You’ll check downstairs? Even though you’re afraid of the basement?”
“I think I’m less afraid of the basement than you are of the Mad Killer. Besides, my grandma would be proud of me if I gutted it up.”
“Thank you,” Avery said, looking up at her like she was just a little older than Lisbet.
“I’m on the job,” Casey said, heading upstairs. As she walked, she called out loudly, “If anyone’s up there, I’m going to find you and kick your ass, so you might just as well jump right out the window.”
“I don’t mind being teased, so long as you humor me,” Avery called up.
“Good, since I don’t think I can stop teasing.”
There were no monsters hiding under the bed, but the house was so empty Casey felt like she was leaving Avery and Lisbet in a place that still didn’t have an occupancy permit. “Um, you’re going to tell me I’m nuts,” she said, after having checked every inch of the house, “but we could switch houses until you get some furniture. All I do is sleep in my room, but you’ve got a whole thing going on with feeding the baby and working…”
“You are nuts,” Avery said. “But in the kindest way possible.” She took Casey by the arm and guided her to the door. “We’re going right to bed, secure in the knowledge that the Mad Killer isn’t here—tonight, at least. We’ll be fine.” She slipped her arms around Casey’s waist and hugged her, surprising her a little. They hadn’t really hugged, and she’d gotten the impression Avery wasn’t into being physically affectionate. But the hug was sweet, and conveyed a lot of emotion, which touched Casey deeply. “Thank you so much for arranging all of this. I think we’ll be very happy here.”
“I just hooked you up with a good opportunity,” she said, feeling the loss when Avery let her go. “And I made some points with my dad in the process. It was driving him crazy to continue to pay the property tax bill while not having any income from the place.”
“You and your dad are very generous people.” With a very gentle push, she directed Casey to the door.
She stood right in the threshold, and grasped the frame. “Who else is going to Brooklyn with you and your dad tomorrow?”
<
br /> “No one. All I have to pick up is Lisbet’s crib, her dresser, and a rocker.”
“That can’t be all you have. What about clothes?”
“I have some…”
“What about the stuff from your kitchen?”
“Well,” she said, looking pensive. “I’ve got some dishes and some utensils. A few pots and pans. A rice cooker. A French press. Oh. Books,” she added, rolling her eyes. “I’ve got way too many books, and Lisbet has quite a few of her own…”
“That all won’t fit in your dad’s truck. We’ll take mine. I’ll pick you up at six, then we’ll swing by your parents’ house. Unless you think you need his truck, too.”
“But…” Her pale brown brows were as high as they got.
“As my grandmother would say, don’t be stupid,” she said, turning to walk down the stairs, thinking of how many nights she’d walked down the old sidewalk on her way home. Having Avery there was honoring the old place by holding off the bulldozers for a few months at the very least. Casey was sure her grandmother would like that, and honoring the woman who’d always made her feel like she mattered was as important as anything in her life.
***
When Casey arrived at the house early the next morning, both of the Nichols girls were ready to rock. They drove over to the family home, and Avery handed the baby over to Kathy. Ken and Avery got into the truck, and Casey saw that Lisbet was on the verge of tears as Kathy held her little hand up to wave goodbye.
“Just made it,” Avery said, laughing a little from the back seat. “I hate to leave Mom with a crying baby, but she’ll only be upset for a minute.”
“Your mom?” Ken asked.
“I meant—”
“That was a joke, honey.” He turned around slightly and gave Avery’s leg a pat. “I think today will be fun. Since I’m not driving, that is.”
“Have you driven to Brooklyn before?” Casey asked.
“Twice,” he said. “My blood pressure’s finally back down to normal. Just took twelve years,” he added quietly.
“I’ve never even been to Brooklyn, much less driven there.”
“And you call me a wimp,” Avery said, giving Casey a friendly scratch on the shoulder.
Ken appointed himself the DJ, and he did the job pretty well. His musical tastes were a little more “trucks, women, beer and broken hearts” than Casey’s, but she liked good ole boy country well enough.
He really came through when they hit the Bronx, handing her enough gum from the stash she kept in one of the cup holders to chew her way through her nerves. She’d never driven into the city at all, and doing it for the first time in a big truck right when the city was waking up wasn’t anything close to fun.
She’d been driving a large truck for a long time, and usually kind of owned the road. But in the Bronx, where almost all of the traffic was eighteen-wheelers going to or from the huge distribution centers that Avery told her were located all around, she felt like she was on a tricycle. The whole experience reminded her of a post-apocalyptic movie, where the social order had completely broken down. A hundred thousand cops couldn’t have kept an eye on all of the speeders, dangerous lane-changers, and tailgaters. There must have been ten or twenty people killed every day, yet Avery and her father spoke idly about nothing in particular, neither one acting like they should be praying for their lives!
Her GPS calmly instructed her through Manhattan, which was better, but then they crossed a bridge and things got real. Bike messengers completely ignored their own safety and all traffic laws, pedestrians crossed the street whenever they damn well wanted, acting like they couldn’t even see the cars bearing down on them, and every van in town was double-parked on the narrow streets. When you added in the pot holes, which were friggin’ constant, Casey was sure her own blood pressure had picked up every point that Ken had lost.
Actually, since it was now eight thirty, and the delivery trucks that had been in the Bronx were now trying to squeeze down streets clearly laid out a hundred years before cars even existed, Ken seemed a little frazzled too. He was normally pretty chatty, but he’d shut up completely. From then on, the only voice that wasn’t singing through the speakers was the navigation instructions, an annoyance that was almost constant. If Casey never heard “recalculating” again, it would be too soon.
Avery was quiet too, but she didn’t seem afraid. Casey had learned Avery’s sense of direction was terrible, so she’d stopped relying on her, making that annoying GPS voice mandatory.
Finally, she pulled up to Avery’s building, blocking the fire hydrant. She wasn’t going to stay long, but she had to calm down before she could bear to think of wedging her huge truck into a parking spot meant for a dirt bike.
Ken finally spoke, and there was a touch of reverence in his voice when he said, “Better you than me.”
“I don’t drink and drive,” Casey said, hearing how high and tight her voice was, “but if someone handed me a beer, I’d chug it.”
“Thank god, I’m not driving,” he said, finally letting out a laugh. “After we get everything loaded, I’m going to run down to the bar we passed a couple of blocks ago.”
“I think I left a beer or two in my fridge,” Avery said.
“You’re not going to have it for long,” he said as he threw the door open and stood on the sidewalk for a minute, getting his sea-legs. Casey wasn’t going to say a thing if he had to have a pop before they hit the road again. If she could have, she would have joined him.
***
Loading a crib, a changing table, and a rocker into a truck should not have been much trouble. Casey had helped friends move entire bedroom suites with a hell of a lot less hassle. But carrying everything down three flights of stairs, then loading it all into the bed of the truck, now illegally double-parked in front of the building, was a pain in the butt. Avery had gone up to pack her kitchen things while Casey waited in the truck, and she’d already convinced a passing cop to keep his hand off his ticket book. With this many illegal parking jobs, it was possible the entire city budget came from parking fines. What a friggin’ mess!
Eventually, Avery walked up to the passenger window and leaned on the sill. “I’ve got all of my kitchen stuff in the boxes you brought from work.” She cocked her head and gazed at Casey with what looked like awe. “How did I think I was going to move without boxes?”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, but this operation was half-assed from the beginning. Lisbet’s furniture alone wouldn’t have fit into your dad’s truck. What were you two thinking?”
“Umm…we weren’t?” she said, looking pretty cute when she made fun of herself. Avery reached further in, grasped Casey’s hand, and squeezed it tightly. “I can’t tell you how thankful I am for this. This goes way beyond the call of duty.”
“It’s been fun,” she lied outrageously. Her hands were still shaking, but she thought she’d be able to convince herself to drive home. “So just the kitchen stuff’s left?”
“Unless you want to carry my books down.” She held up a hand. “I’m happy to leave them. Freya said she didn’t mind.”
“Do you want them?” Casey asked.
Avery nodded almost imperceptibly.
“We’ve got enough boxes, I think. Let’s give it a try.” She got out of the truck, letting Avery slide in to hopefully charm the next parking enforcement person from slapping an undoubtedly expensive ticket on her windshield. “See you in a few.”
Casey started to trudge up the stairs, afraid she’d have heat stroke by the time they got the boxes of books down. It didn’t seem possible, but Brooklyn had to be ten degrees hotter than the Hudson Valley. Why in the hell did so many people want to live in such a shithole?
***
They’d stopped for a calorie-laden, nutrient-deficient, fast-food lunch, so they didn’t reach the house until two thirty. Avery was ready for a nap, and she hadn’t carried a single thing down the stairs. She would have, and she was fairly certain she could have, but
neither her dad nor Casey would hear of it. Her dad still treated her as gently as he had when she’d been pregnant, but Casey didn’t seem to consider her frail. It felt more like she was just certain she was stronger, which she clearly was.
After Casey parked by the kitchen door on the side of the house, they all got out. Avery noted her dad looked a little shaky. His job was technically manual labor, but it didn’t require a lot of heavy lifting. Most appliances now were made up mostly of modules, and he spent his days removing ones with a burned out part and replacing them with a shiny new one. She was certain he didn’t ever have to carry anything up or down three flights of stairs, and just as certain he was glad for that.
He stood behind the truck, hands on his hips, looking up at the bed like it was five feet high.
Casey walked around and put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you think we can find a delivery service that’ll bring us a six pack?”
“I’ll go,” Avery said. “Where’s the closest place? I haven’t driven around here yet, so I don’t know the hot spots.”
“Mmm.” Casey looked at her thoughtfully. “There’s no place very close. You’ll have to go over to Route 9.”
A car pulled up, and Avery turned to see her mom, along with Lisbet and two of their neighbors. As the men got out of the car, Casey walked over and took Lisbet from her car seat. “I’ve got the most important cog in the machinery,” she said, tucking her onto her hip.
Avery’s dad walked over to the other side of the car, accepting the six pack of Budweiser. “I knew I’d made the best decision of my life in marrying you,” he said, pulling a beer from the plastic holder and nearly shotgunning it. He was going to be a stiff, sore puppy in the morning, but she knew he wouldn’t have had it any other way. He’d gotten more protective ever since she’d been pregnant, and she’d come to appreciate the change. It was like he was acknowledging that her job was kind of tough at times, too, even though it didn’t require feats of strength. He was a darned good dad, and if he had any sense at all, he’d let Jeff and Dave do the majority of the work, while he and Casey served as supervisors. It was time for them to punch out.
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