She opened the door and said, “The kid’s practically demanding that I come in,” she said, laughing a little. “You know, it’s a rare day I come to the door that she doesn’t look happy.” She got down into a squat and put her hands under Lisbet’s arms to pull her to her feet. “Except for Saturday, of course. How’s the milk situation?”
“Pretty good, thanks to me,” Kathy said, starting to get to her feet. “Would you bring Lisbet and some of the toys into the kitchen? I’m making a tomato sauce, and I don’t want it to burn.”
The toys were lying on a cushiony mat Kathy normally kept in the kitchen for the baby to play on, and Casey gathered the whole thing up and carried it in one hand while she held Lisbet with the other. When they got into the room she laid everything out and the baby acted like everything was new to her. She let go of Casey’s hand and started to grab the toys like Santa had just come.
Casey sat opposite her and engaged her while Kathy tended to her sauce for a minute. “I’m no chemist,” she said, “but I know a thing or two about flavor.”
“What did you do?”
“There were only ten packets of frozen breast milk in the freezer, so I had Avery bring over the packets she expressed this morning. Then I warmed up one of the frozen ones and added about ten percent of the fresh milk.” She turned to meet Casey’s gaze. “Lisbet ate it like a champ.”
“Excellent!”
“Then she had twenty percent of the fresh with her next bottle, and she didn’t notice the difference there either. If we can keep adding fresh to frozen, we’ll have enough to ride out the storm.” She bent over to pat the baby on the head. “Maybe next month she won’t notice at all. But Avery’s going to be diligent about keeping the frozen supply topped up, since this might be an issue for the duration.”
“Babies are hard,” Casey said, watching Lisbet merrily bang her toys against the table leg. “You can read everything that’s written and still be caught by surprise.” She laughed a little. “I should know, since I got to the end of the internet looking up what to do with a baby who’s unhappy with the flavor of your breast milk.”
Kathy got down on the floor again and gathered Lisbet up to hug her. “You’re one lucky baby,” she cooed. “You’ve got a whole group of people dedicated to not only keeping you healthy, but happy too.”
Chapter Thirteen
By the first week of October, the frost had been on the pumpkins twice, but a warming trend allowed Avery to take Lisbet for an extemporaneous walk around the neighborhood after picking her up at the end of the day.
She should have put the baby in her stroller, but she liked being able to hold Lisbet to her chest, and the baby liked it too. Looking into each other’s eyes while they walked around was calming for both of them.
She returned to the house as her dad pulled in, and he jumped out of his truck to walk over to them. “You’re staying for dinner, right?”
“I hadn’t planned—”
“Come on. I haven’t seen the baby in four days. You go help your mom, and give me a minute alone with this little champ.” He grasped her foot and gave it a playful tug. “You want to see your granddad, don’t you, precious?”
She gurgled and shivered when he spoke directly to her, with her little arms trying to reach for him.
“If mom doesn’t mind, we’ll stay,” she said, not really desperate to cook for herself.
“If mom doesn’t mind,” he scoffed. “That’s a good one.”
They went inside together, and she started to take off the carrier, with him lending a hand. “Kath? Is there enough food for one more? I caught Avery trying to sneak out.”
“Avery’s still here?” Her mom came out into the living room. “I thought you’d gone home a half hour ago.”
“I thought it was a good night for a walk, and I like your neighborhood better for that. I saw a coyote by my house last week, and keep thinking one will knock me down and a whole pack of them will emerge from the woods to…” She shrugged. “Typical mother nightmares.”
“Typical?” Her mom waggled her hand. “I’m not sure you’d get much agreement on that. But I’ve got plenty of food to go around. Your father won’t get three pieces of chicken, but he can suffer with just two.”
“Two’s plenty. I’m going to take my pumpkin into the den. Monday Night Football’s on in just a couple of hours, so we’ll start with the pregame.” He grasped Lisbet and put her up against his shoulder. On the way out of the kitchen, he kissed Avery on the cheek. “Any marching orders?”
“Nothing new. Just don’t take your eyes off her. She’s still crawling backwards, but she’s faster. As usual, it makes her super happy to hold your hands and stand on her own.”
“I can let her walk?”
“Anything you like will be fine. God knows she’ll tell you if she doesn’t like it. Yet another opinionated Nichols woman.”
“Just the way I like them,” he said, happily heading to his den, with Lisbet looking over his shoulder with a slightly concerned look in her big blue eyes. She was still very social, and still very amenable to other people holding her, but Avery had noticed she was starting to get picky. She just hoped the baby didn’t shy away from her grandparents. That would destroy them—especially her dad.
She went back into the kitchen and poked around at the vegetables. “Are you going to roast these?”
“I was going to mash the potatoes, but I suppose I could roast everything. Do you prefer that?”
“Mmm. You can get by with less oil or butter, so, yes. I’ve only got five more pounds to lose, and I’d love to do it by the end of the year.”
“I think you had those jeans before you got pregnant, didn’t you?”
“Uh-huh. They were a little large then, and a little tight now.” She slapped at her thigh. “I worry that my legs will never go back to how they were, though. The weight has settled right here on the sides.”
“You look fantastic, sweetheart. I saw Janelle Perkins with her mom the other day. I’m not sure how old her little boy is, but I think he might be three.” She lowered her voice, like one of Avery’s old classmates might be lurking in the corner to hear her gossip. “The poor girl’s fifty pounds heavier than she was in high school. Either she’s gained weight recently or she kept every ounce of baby weight.”
“Janelle? Are you sure? What’s she doing around here?”
“Living here. Didn’t I tell you? She left her job after she had the baby, then her husband got into some kind of trouble.” Now she was truly whispering. “The FBI was involved.”
“Janelle Perkin’s husband had the Feds on him and you didn’t mention that?”
“I think they’re divorced. Or divorcing. She’s staying with her parents.”
“Holy fuck! She was summa at Yale, mom. Then Harvard Law. Are you sure it’s the same girl?”
“Of course I am. You should look her up, honey. I’m sure she could use a friend.”
“Mmm. I’m not sure I will. She was always shitty to Casey.”
“To Casey? Why would anyone be shitty to Casey?”
“I’m not sure if Janelle was just anti-gay or she also liked feeling superior to her academically.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” She turned to look at Avery for a few long seconds. “She did that kind of thing while you were friends?”
That familiar sense of shame settled on her again. “Yes. And no, I never told her to knock it off.”
“Avery,” she said, with the disappointed look in her eyes making Avery feel much worse than she would have if she’d gotten a lecture.
“I was spineless, for sure, but in my defense I was struggling with my sexuality. I didn’t want to step up to defend Casey for being gay since I didn’t want Janelle to think I might be.” Her mom started to open her mouth, but Avery got in one more thought. “Yes, I’m ashamed of myself. I’m certain I’d stand up to a bully now, but…”
“It’s a little late,” her mom supplied.
>
“It certainly is. I’m very glad I’ve developed a backbone, but I wish I’d had one then.”
Her mom went back to cooking, idly commending, “Maybe Janelle has changed, too. She seemed very pleasant.”
“Maybe I’ll call her. Couldn’t hurt.”
“That’s my girl. Expect the best out of people.”
“I try,” Avery said. “If nothing else, I could use some baby stuff. I know what kind of things New York lawyers buy for their kids. She might have some great gear.”
“I know you’re teasing,” her mom said, gazing at her fondly. “You’ve never been into all of that materialistic stuff. But I’m glad you’re willing to give her a second chance.”
“You don’t think I lust for money? Or power? Or fame?”
“Ha! If those were your goals, you would have written one of those fantasy books for kids. Like J.K. Rowlins.”
“Rowling.”
“Well, whoever she is, she made a mint!”
“I think that takes a certain kind of imagination,” Avery said. “One I don’t have.”
“Oh, how hard could it be to write for kids? Your stories have to be much harder to come up with than hers.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Mom. You write what you write, and your audience finds you—or doesn’t. I’m sure other people have written equally good YA novels, but those writers are still working a full-time jobs somewhere. A lot of success comes from timing.”
“But you’re not unhappy, are you?” She was busily rubbing the chicken with a little olive oil, but she diverted just enough of her attention to carry on a conversation.
“Not even a little. I’m perfectly happy. But am I bored? Definitely.”
“Oh, lord. Not this again!”
“What? When have I been bored?”
“From the time you were fifteen until you started college. I’ve never met a girl who had grander aspirations that you did, Avery. Where you got them, I’ll never know, but you had them. I can still remember the begging you used to do to convince us to take you into the city. You would have thought they were throwing hundred dollar bills to everyone who entered the city limits.”
“I don’t remember going into town very often…”
“We didn’t! Do you know how much it costs to pay for the train, and tickets to a show, and a meal out? We didn’t have four hundred dollars to blow on a whim.”
“You took me sometimes. Like when we saw Cabaret on my birthday. I can still sing every song from the soundtrack.”
“I should hope so! You played that CD until you wore the grooves off of it.”
“CD’s don’t have grooves, but I will admit that I was a groupie. If we’d lived closer, you couldn’t have kept me at home. I would have been the kid hanging outside of the stage door, trying to get Natasha Richardson to smile at me.”
“We should have known then that boys weren’t really your thing.”
Avery laughed. “Lots of straight girls have crushes on actors and singers. They fade over time.”
“Well, yours didn’t.” She started to slice the potatoes into strips. “Do the same to those turnips and carrots, will you, baby?”
“Sure thing.”
They were working companionably when her mom said, “So? Where’s my normal helper? I’m not used to cooking dinner all on my own.”
Avery grasped her arm, stopping her from working for a second. “Is it too much? I can ask Casey to give you a little breathing room.”
“Don’t be silly. I love having her over here. While she’s playing with Lisbet I can actually get some things done.” She went back to work, saying, “I know her hockey games are on Sundays…”
“She’s in the city, Mom. At the convention she’s been talking about.”
Her mom stared at her. “That’s this week? Is it October already?”
“It sure is.”
“Oh, damn. You’re going to have to come over at three on Thursday. I have a troop meeting, and Casey’s been babysitting for me.”
“Seriously? How did I miss that?”
“I’m home by the time you get here, I suppose. The troop meets at the school as soon as the bell rings, so everyone’s home by five thirty.”
“Damn, we really are going to have to fend for ourselves while Casey’s gone.” She let out a soft laugh. “I’m not sure we’re up to it.”
She walked over to the fridge to put the vegetables she’d cut up back inside. “Should I take Dad a beer? I don’t think he got one.”
“He’d like that. Lisbet must have distracted him.”
Avery smiled as she took one from the shelf. “She has a way of doing that. Be right back.”
She walked down the hall, hearing not the strains of a football announcer, but a country song with a very rollicking beat. She’d heard the song before, thinking it might be current. Just before she entered the room, she peeked inside to find her dad on the edge of his chair—dancing. He wasn’t generally much of a dancer, but he could do a serviceable two-step, and if he’d had a couple of drinks he seemed to enjoy twirling her mother around at a wedding reception. He couldn’t do that now, since he was sitting down, but he was moving as well as he could to the music, with Lisbet avidly watching him.
She was standing while holding his index fingers, clumsily trying to mimic him. She was also giggling like crazy, and shaking her little shoulders, which she could do pretty well. But when she tried to do the same with her hips, she lost it a little and he had to hold her up until she had her balance again.
Avery nearly burst out in tears, seeing how much pleasure each of them were getting from simply interacting. She was one hundred percent sure he’d been just as crazy about her when she’d been a baby, and she relished that thought, realizing this was another perk of having had a baby of her own. You were finally able to feel some semblance of how your parents felt about you.
Unwilling to embarrass her dad, she took the beer back into the kitchen, putting it back into the fridge while her mom was occupied. She still felt a little weepy, and was just dabbing at her eyes when her mom turned and gave her a puzzled expression.
“Are you okay? You seem a little down.”
Avery shrugged. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”
“Are you sure?” She walked over and gazed into Avery’s eyes, clearly concerned. “You’re not depressed, are you?”
“No,” she said, laughing a little. “I’m fine. But it did hit me today how isolated I’ve let myself become. I’ve got to find some creative outlets. I’m alone all day, then I spend my nights with just the baby.”
“You feel alone when you’re with her?”
“Not exactly,” she said, sure she wasn’t explaining herself properly. “I actually like being alone a good portion of the time.” She gazed out of the kitchen window, feeling a little melancholy when she stared at the garden, now covered over with straw, not a single hint of green remaining.
“What are you looking for, honey? I’m sure there are some mothers groups up here you haven’t looked into.”
“It’s not that, Mom. I’m not just looking for someone to chat with. I want someone I can go deeper with.”
“Deeper? About what?”
“Nothing in particular. I’d just like to get out of the rut. You know?”
“Not really. What you call a rut, I call a schedule.”
“I’m not very fond of schedules,” she said, thinking of her prior life. “When I lived in the city, I spent much of my time doing just what I’m doing now. But working to find new venues for the readings broke the monotony and gave me something to look forward to. I had to be more outgoing to forge relationships with bar and club owners.” She shrugged, hating to admit her weaknesses. “If I’m left to my own devices, I can be hermit-like. Even though I wasn’t crazy about finding venues at first, I grew to love it, and now I miss it.”
“So you’re lonely?”
“That’s not the right word. It’s more like I’m stagnating. I’m not bein
g challenged very often. Intellectually, at least.”
Her mom gazed at her for a long minute with her mouth growing a little pinched. “Oh. You’re saying you haven’t met anyone smart enough—”
Knowing she’d put her foot in her mouth, Avery tried to interrupt to bail herself out. “It has nothing to do with being smart, Mom. It’s just that I used to interact with people who liked the same things I did.”
“Such as?”
This wasn’t going to go well. She couldn’t say she wanted to talk about books, since her mom would gladly regale her with the plot of one of her mysteries. While Avery didn’t necessarily think the literary fiction she read was superior to a good mystery, it was definitely a different genre, one that appealed to her. “All I’m saying is that you have friends and co-workers you have certain things in common with. When you don’t have that connection, you miss it.”
“I don’t think that is what you’re saying. I think you’re saying that you’re intellectually bored.” She put her hand on Avery’s shoulder and turned her slightly. “If I’m going to be frank, I think that’s why nothing’s happened between you and Casey. You think she’s not smart enough to bother with.”
“That’s not true! At all! Casey’s never shown the slightest bit of interest in me.”
“What interest have you shown in her? If you ask me, she’s a little shy. I can easily see her as the kind of girl who’s not able to make the first move.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Mom. She’s gentle, but she’s not shy. If she wanted to start something, she would have.”
“And the same goes for you. If you wanted to have a relationship with her, you would have told her you’re interested.”
“I’m certainly not shy either, but you don’t just bring that up out of the blue!”
“So you would bring it up if you thought you wouldn’t be shot down?”
Friday Night Flights Page 24