Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon

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Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon Page 3

by Mary Ellen Courtney


  I slid out of bed, picked up Chance’s basket, and crept past Chana sleeping in the guest room. We rocked on the lanai as the day came on full. Adam came out of the tent, waved good morning and took off down the beach for a run. I called Ed since his day was already in full swing in California.

  “Hello, Sweetheart,” he said. “I didn’t expect to hear from you for a few days.”

  “I’m up with the baby. How are you? You still coming?”

  “Of course. Nancy is starting to worry about finding a bathing suit.”

  He wanted to hear all about the baby, and chuckled over Meggie’s jealousy.

  “Are you doing okay?” I asked.

  “I’m great,” he said. “How’s Arthur?”

  “He got out of the hospital yesterday,” I said. “Two stents and he’s good as new. We can’t wait to see you. Jon can take time off.”

  “He’s a good man, Hannah.”

  “I know. I love him more every day. I wish Margaret could have met him. She only met the turkeys.”

  “I ran into Steve at the driving range,” he said.

  “Speaking of turkeys,” I said. “He marry the lawyer?”

  “Yes. Serves him right for losing you.”

  “I don’t know anything about her,” I said. “I might feel sorry for her.”

  “I bragged about Jon and the babies, he talked about his slice.”

  “I feel sorry for her. You’re a good man, Ed. I want you to be happy.”

  “I am. I better run. I’m picking up Nancy from her nail appointment; she doesn’t like to drive with wet nails.”

  We signed off. Won’t drive with wet nails? I called Karin.

  “We’ve got a problem,” I said.

  “What happened? You okay?” she asked. “You need me to come?”

  “Oh. Yeah. No. I’m fine. He was born yesterday. Stuck shoulders again. I looked like a cow.”

  I filled her in on the birth. Then about Nancy who couldn’t drive with wet nails.

  “Did Anna call her a bitch?” she asked.

  “She called her retro, but she didn’t disagree with the B part.”

  “Shit. That pisses me off. With all the nice women in the world.”

  “She’s already worried about finding a bathing suit.”

  “Well, we can’t hold that against her.”

  “I guess. But won’t drive with wet nails? Margaret could drive a stick shift with the pads of her hands. Jon’s ex-wife called while we were at the birthing center.”

  “What’d she want?”

  “He didn’t answer it. She was probably trying to reach Chana.”

  “She knows how to reach her when she stays with us, she’s always giving her crap.”

  “I know. I don’t know.”

  Jon came out on the lanai rubbing his neck. He kissed the top of my head. Then kissed Chance’s head while he looked for the head banging mark. I signed off with Karin.

  “My neck is killing me,” he said.

  “What was she doing?” I asked.

  “Probably passed out on her way to kicking him.”

  Chana came out next with a cup of coffee. She curled her legs under her in a chair and looked at the tent.

  “Adam just went for a run,” I said. “I talked to Ed this morning. He had to hang up and go get Nancy. She won’t drive with wet nails.”

  They waited for the punch line.

  “She won’t drive herself with wet nails,” I repeated.

  “I don’t blame her,” said Chana. “Try a henna tattoo sometime. I had to lie in the backseat with my pants rolled down so the dye could dry while Adam drove.”

  A low growl came out of Jon. I don’t know what he was getting all worked up about. Chana was twenty-two. By the time he was twenty-two he’d tangled with more than his share of rolled down pants.

  “Just think,” I said. “You were born when your dad was about your age.”

  “I can’t even imagine that,” she said.

  “I can,” said Jon.

  He headed inside to start breakfast. Meggie came out and climbed in Chana’s lap to stare at Chance.

  “Morning, Angel,” I said. “You have a good sleep?”

  No answer.

  “Do you know why your mother was calling yesterday?” I asked.

  “No,” said Chana. “She just said Dad wouldn’t answer his phone. What did she expect?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  I took Chance in the kitchen.

  “Did you talk to Celeste?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Nancy won’t drive with wet nails.”

  He hugged me with Chance between us.

  “Let’s wait to meet her before we start hating her,” he said. “Why don’t you leave him with me, get some rest before we eat.”

  “What if he marries her and then he’s unhappy?” I asked.

  “He will or he won’t. Take a break. You’re not going to solve it today. We need more information.”

  “That’s what you always say.”

  “And sometimes I’m right.”

  I handed him Chance, grabbed a banana and got back in bed. I ate the banana and fell asleep.

  At some point Jon nestled Chance up to my breast and he latched on. He’d gotten the hang of that in a hurry. I could feel the steady squitch of milk with each suckle.

  I dropped off to sleep again and woke myself up patting my chest. There was no baby. The house was quiet. I wandered out and found Jon asleep on the lanai with a book on his chest. Chance was asleep in his basket. I sat down in a chair. Jon’s eyes snapped open at the sound of squeaking wicker, but Chance slept on. Jon looked at him with soft eyes.

  “We deserve him after shrieky,” he said.

  Her first six months, Meggie slept like a cat. The slightest sound woke her up shrieking. We lived like the terrified groupies of a hotheaded rock star. We tiptoed around, took thirty-seconds to turn a doorknob, and whispered into our phones which were always on vibrate. Jon went through three cans of WD-40 trying to un-squeak the house.

  She had been an excellent form of birth control. Unfortunately for her, I got desperate on the way home from a movie and jumped Jon in the Durango. Further evidence that life’s drive to push forward doesn’t give a damn about the mental health of its host. Jon looked at his phone and smiled.

  “He’s one day old,” he said.

  ∞

  We spent a few days getting to know Chance while keeping an eye on Meggie’s fingers and feet. He drew so little attention to himself; she seemed less alarmed by his existence each day. She slept between us on night two which was punishing. When she wasn’t kicking and throwing her arms around, she had her hand locked on Jon’s jugular vein. He spent half the night choking and moving her clutchy little fingers. I pity the man who ends up with her, he better lack a gag response.

  Night three she slept with Chana. That was great for Jon. He knew where both his daughters were so he slept like a log, when he wasn’t laughing.

  We discovered on night three that I shouldn’t eat eggs two days in a row. They made Chance a tad explosive. Even so, he barely complained and only needed a little tummy rubbing between blowouts. He was as noisy as a nine-pound megaphone, even with a diaper muffler.

  The bed shook with Jon’s laughter after a few of the biggest rounds. I elbowed him gently, which just made him laugh harder. Boys and farts, my life had changed. As Jon said, his grinning voice softened by his pillow, we were learning our new paradigm.

  “Always with the fancy language,” I whispered.

  He started laughing again.

  “I didn’t know you were a fart lover,” I whispered.

  “I’m not. It’s your reaction. He farts and you groan. You sound like bullfrogs.”

  ∞

  Chana got up with marks on her neck and hair standing on end. Meggie looked rested and ready to roll out the new day. Jon checked to make sure Adam was in his tent.

 
Chance and I stayed home while Chana, Adam and Meggie went to the airport to meet Jon’s parents. They were going to get settled in at the condo and then come over for dinner because Jon needed to be at work all day. The downturn in the economy had him analyzing costs to see where he could skinny up.

  I didn’t want him to worry about money; I could go back to work full time. I’d been taking work with commercial production companies that came to the islands, sometimes as a production designer, sometimes as a location manager. My agent, Marty, didn’t like it. He thought it degraded my big project image, but they were short-term projects and close to home. Good with young children.

  I was rocking on the lanai, enjoying the quiet with Chance, when the phone rang. Mom. I filled her in on mellow Chance and Meggie’s jealousy.

  “How’s Arthur?” I asked.

  “He went to hit balls, against doctor’s orders.”

  “How are you doing? That must have been scary.”

  “I stayed in his room. It was better than being home alone. His kids came by.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “Oh. You know.”

  “I know they work at being rude to you.”

  “Well, it’s hard for them. Their mother never moved on.”

  “She moved on just fine, Mom. That’s total BS. She’s been living with that guy since they broke up. She won’t marry him until the alimony runs out.”

  “How’s Jon doing with the new baby?”

  “He’s in heaven. Chance has the same egg thing Eric had. He kept us awake half the night laughing.”

  “He was laughing?”

  “No. We were. He was tooting.”

  “Oh. Well. Wait until he’s eight. It won’t be so funny then.”

  “Grandma thought it was funny,” I said.

  “She would have loved to see your children. Too bad you waited so long.”

  “I waited for the right man.”

  “Aunt Judith is on her way over. We’re going to look for dresses for Samantha’s wedding.”

  “We’re sorry to miss it. Jon can’t get away.”

  “Did you see the dress Samantha picked for the bridesmaids?” she asked.

  “Chana told me about it. The girls aren’t too thrilled,” I said. “Apparently she refused Susan’s help, the whole evil stepmother thing.”

  “I wish the family hadn’t fallen apart like this,” she said. “I thought we’d go on family ski trips. Three generations at the Mammoth house for Christmas.”

  “You sold the Mammoth house.”

  “You know what I mean, Hannah. I didn’t think the family would have all these second marriages, and strangers. I didn’t expect Bettina and Amber to be gone.”

  “No one expected that, Mom. We’re three generations. Arthur isn’t a stranger and Susan is lovely.”

  “I know. You and Jon were both married before.”

  “Yes. We were.”

  I promised to email pictures and signed off. Conversations with my mother were rife with tripwires. The main things were to keep it focused on her and out of fantasyland. Her sister, Judith, aka Aunt Asp for her poisoned tongue, was as bad. She used to tell me I better hurry up and find a man because I was almost a cat. Asp was on her third husband. Meow.

  Bride-to-be Samantha was my niece, Bettina’s daughter. My widowed brother-in-law Ted had remarried soon after Bettina and her daughter, Amber, were killed in a car accident. His new wife, Susan, was quiet and sober and kind, the opposite of Bettina.

  Chance was sound asleep between my knees; arms flopped out after his tussle with birth. His tiny fists of five slim fingers had soft nails that kneaded my breasts when he nursed. Jon called to check in.

  “Mom’s doing disappointing family day,“ I said. “Your parents make it okay?”

  “Yep. Megs is in the pool with Grandpa and a new whale floatie. They stopped at Walmart for supplies on the way in from the airport. She nailed him in the toy aisle.”

  “Chinamart,” I said.

  “I know. I’ll be home by 5:00.”

  ∞

  Jon and I were rocking on the lanai when the family started showing up for dinner. Jon’s mom had Meggie in a new sundress with matching flowered flip-flops. Her needlepoint fingers had her unruly hair in delicate French braids. Even her face was clean. How did she do that?

  Grandpa Tom and Grandma Penny passed Chance back and forth during dinner, which he tolerated by sleeping. Nothing like little shrieky. Penny thought he looked just like Jon.

  We made it an early night. Meggie cried when she realized she was going with Penny and Tom while the little interloper stayed home with her parents. Jon carried her out to the car, snuffling her ear, and telling her that they were all going back to the pool for a moon swim. He came in the house and locked the door.

  “There’s no moon tonight,” I said.

  “They’re all Moons. Let’s get some sleep.”

  ∞

  Jon’s parents stayed two weeks. Penny taught me how to French braid Meggie’s hair. She also cleaned out my refrigerator, and cupboards, and rearranged my linen closet. She pulled out all the books and dusted, then put them back on the shelves with the spines on the edge. It meant that all the shells and feathers, beach glass and binoculars that had built up along the edges had to go. She and Meggie sorted toys and matched socks. She’d done the same thing after Meggie was born. I felt invaded that time, this time I took a deep breath and asked her to come back in a few months. Jon and I called her the House Elf behind her back.

  Grandpa Tom kept Meggie busy with field trips, the pool, and his normal state of being. He’d bought a junior volleyball at Walmart and was starting Meggie on the basics. He said that, once he corralled her tendency to throw a little too much into it, she’d be a natural. He was a retired banker. Penny still taught a few graduate seminars in literature at UCSB. They played beach volleyball with an old group of friends year-round.

  Chana and Adam went back to California. Chana was working on her masters at San Luis Obispo. Adam had followed in his father’s footsteps and had gone into computers. He was doing freelance animation for a small startup in West L.A.

  ∞

  We were having dinner with Tom and Penny at the restaurant on their last night. It was Chance’s first outing and he’d been thoroughly fawned over by Jon’s employees. They called Jon, JT, so they called Chance, CJ.

  “Do you have any idea what Celeste plans to do now?” asked Penny.

  “No,” said Jon.

  “What’s going on with Celeste?” I asked.

  “They’re getting a divorce,” said Penny.

  “Chana didn’t say anything about it,” I said. “Is that why she’s been calling?”

  “Chana doesn’t know,” said Jon. “We decided to wait until she got back to California to tell her.”

  “Who is we?” I asked.

  “Celeste and I,” said Jon.

  “How long have you known?” I asked.

  “Mom and Dad told me a few days ago,” he said.

  Jon looked at me, willing me to go with it. I had gone stiff. Chance got restless in my arms and started warming up for a little squall.

  “I’m going to nurse in the car,” I said.

  “You can do it here,” said Jon.

  “I want some privacy.”

  I got in the hot car and rolled down all the windows. Chance was fussy and didn’t want to latch on. I sat back and cried. One of the waitresses stuck her head in the window to say hello.

  “Oh sorry, Hannah,” she said. “I got the blues about now, too. Do you want me to get you something?”

  “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

  “We’ve never seen JT so excited,” she said. “CJ looks just like him.”

  I nodded while I wiped my eyes with the corner of my shawl. My throat had closed up. I didn’t want to talk.

  “Okay,” she said. “Call inside if you need me to bring you anything.”

  Celeste had gotten closer to Jon’s parents after m
oving to California. She and Glen had wanted children, but it hadn’t happened. He had never been very nice to Chana. She was Jon’s. I figured he didn’t like the reminder that he wouldn’t have his own.

  Jon came out to the car.

  “Where’s Meggie?” I asked.

  “She went home with my folks,” he said. “I’ll get her when we go to the airport.”

  “I want her home with us.”

  “Hannah, don’t do this.”

  “Do what? She should be home with us tonight. It will be easier tomorrow; she won’t make a big scene at the airport.”

  “This isn’t about Meggie.”

  “It’s about our family.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll go get her.”

  He dropped me at home and went to get Meggie, while I went to bed with Chance.

  ∞

  The next morning Jon was asleep with Meggie in her bed. I took Chance on the lanai and wrapped us in a blanket against the blustery day.

  Meggie slammed out the screen door and watched him nurse. Jon came out.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “I want Honey-O’s,” said Meggie. “Grandma has Honey-O’s.”

  “You need to say please, Meggie,” I said. “We don’t have Honey-Os, we have Koala Crisp.”

  Jon smiled at me. I didn’t smile back.

  “Don’t let her add sugar,” I said.

  “We going to talk about this?” he asked.

  “You all seem to have it talked out,” I said.

  I got up and started into the house.

  “Meggie, Kaia invited you over there today,” I said. “Let’s get dressed. You can wear your new flower toes.”

  “Go ahead and leave,” I said to Jon. “I can take care of us.”

  A few minutes later the kitchen door slammed and tires left on the crushed shell driveway.

  I walked Meggie next door. Victor was just leaving to start lunch prep. He was a world-class chef with a restaurant a few doors down from Jon’s, but I suspected their main income was from a string of food trucks he ran on the islands. He called it Hawaiian Soul Food. Jon called them rolling Spam and pineapple shacks.

 

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