The Weight of Shadows

by Alison Strobel

  SEVENTEEN

  Kim’s head was pounding and her arms felt like they were going to fall off. Anne hadn’t stopped crying in two hours, not even for a minute, and yet somehow she had the energy to cry louder when Kim tried to put her down. So Kim continued to walk the nursery, corner to corner and back, bouncing and shushing and begging the baby to be quiet.

  Through the wall she could hear the blaring television in the living room. Rick’s idea of being helpful was keeping to himself and turning up the TV so he could hear it over Anne’s cries. Kim tried not to be resentful—he was a man, after all, and men weren’t as attuned to the needs of their babies as mothers were. Or were supposed to be. She didn’t have any idea what was wrong herself.

  Kim sang every song that came into her head, lullaby or not. She changed her route around the room to give them both some variety. She tried showing Anne the view out the window, tried winding up the mobile that hung above the crib, checked her diaper again, tried to nurse her again. And then, inexplicably, she began to calm down. Kim collapsed in the desk chair, singing softly and nursing her again, and watched as Anne’s eyelids drooped and finally closed.

  She bit back the cries of relief that bubbled from her gut, afraid to do anything that might wake her. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and whispered “Thank you” to the sleeping bundle in her arms.

  The thought of holding Anne for her entire nap was enticing, but Kim didn’t think her arms would last much longer. She waited as long as she could, then stood in slow motion and glided to the crib. Arms trembling, she lowered Anne to the mattress, then fled the room before she could do anything to jeopardize the miracle.

  Kim made a beeline for the bedroom, shut the door gently behind her, then collapsed on the bed, weeping. She was so tired. Her entire upper body was in constant pain from the strain of holding Anne through so many crying spells. Her breasts ached from the weight of the milk that flooded them to overflowing, and her emotions bubbled raw beneath the surface, ready to go haywire at the slightest provocation.

  And Rick just sat in the living room watching TV.

  Kim sat up, gulping cleansing breaths and trying to get a grip. She shouldn’t think badly of him; this was an adjustment for him too. She hadn’t been able to make much for dinner the last few days, and every time the baby cried at night it woke him too. Granted, he got to go back to sleep, but he also had to go to work in the morning—she at least could stay in her pajamas all day and nap with Anne. Not that she did—there was too much else to do to keep the place the way Rick liked it, laundry and dishes and cooking and cleaning—but at least the option was there.

  She splashed cold water on her face and fixed her ponytail before venturing back into the living room. Rick was snoring on the couch. Kim tiptoed to the kitchen and pulled cereal from the top of the fridge. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was already one in the afternoon. Snack in hand, she sat at the table and wolfed it down for fear Anne would awaken before she finished.

  Rick woke when the dishwasher door got away from her and banged shut. “Thanks a lot,” he said, standing from the sofa. “I finally get a nap and you wake me up.”

  “I’m sorry, it was an accident, believe me. The last thing I want is for anyone to wake up.” Her lip began to tremble. “It took over two hours for her to fall asleep. I don’t know what’s wrong. I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.” Rick opened the fridge and pulled out a soda. “How long is she gonna sleep?”

  “I have no idea. Two hours? Twenty minutes?”

  “Alright, well—I’m going to the store. I’ll only be gone an hour. It’s not like there’s anything I can do if she wakes up.”

  Kim sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Have fun.”

  She felt guilty for being jealous, but she hadn’t been out of the house since coming home with the baby, and the thought of wandering aimlessly down grocery aisles had never sounded so heavenly. She watched Rick leave, then flopped onto the sofa and turned on the television and triggered the guide to see what was on.

  The date was in the upper corner, and she did a double-take before it set in. Tomorrow was her birthday. How could she have lost track of time like that? Besides last year, it had never been a very important day, but she’d still remembered it and marked it in her own heart even though no one else had noticed. To think the day could have passed without her even remembering!

  A slow smile spread across her face. Rick never went to the store for more than twenty minutes, yet he said he’d be gone an hour. He was buying her a present, she just knew it. The thought warmed her soul and made up for the last few days of frustration with him.

  Anne slept for an hour, then woke crying once more. Nursing quieted her down, though, and once she was content Kim set her in the corner of the sofa and simply stared. When she wasn’t screaming at the top of her little lungs, she was beautiful. Her skin was flawless, her mouth a perfect bow. Her little arms and legs were still scrawny, but her face was filling out and the rest of her was not quite so wrinkly.

  “I’m trying, Anne, I really am,” she said, stroking her daughter’s balled-up fist with her finger. “I sure wish I knew why you cried, though.”

  Anne began to fuss again, so Kim picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, then laid down on the bed and placed Anne on her chest. Cradling the baby against her, Kim began to sing to her again, and soon they were both asleep.

  When the front door shut, both Kim and the baby woke with a start. Kim carried her to the living room and found Rick unloading a dozen bags of food into the pantry and fridge. “Thanks for picking all that up,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” He held up a package of frozen garlic bread. “Let’s do spaghetti sometime this week.”

  “Sure.” Kim scanned the counter and bags for signs of her gift, curious to see what it was but not really wanting to find it. She’d had so few gifts in her life, she didn’t want to ruin this one. He must have hidden it as soon as he’d gotten in, because she didn’t see it anywhere. Pleased at the thought of all the work he’d gone through for her, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Why don’t I make that spaghetti tonight?”

  “Sure, that sounds great.” He finished putting the food away and stuffed the bags in the trash. “Let me know when it’s ready, alright?” He walked away to the couch and sat down, but this time Kim didn’t mind.

  KIM AWOKE IN THE MORNING to Anne crying, snow falling, and Rick still snoring beside her. Happy birthday to me! One-quarter of a century gone, hopefully a couple more still to go. “Hard to imagine you turning twenty-five someday,” she said to Anne as she nursed her on the sofa. “Hard to imagine you even turning one!”

  As she changed Anne’s diaper, Kim recounted the importance of the day for her captive audience. “Today is Mommy’s birthday. No one ever did anything for my birthday when I was little, but I promise your birthdays will have hundreds of balloons and dozens of little friends and a cake with extra frosting. If you turn out to be a frosting person, that is. Though last year I did have a pretty fun birthday. In fact, that’s when I met your daddy. So today is actually our anniversary too!”

  It took a minute for her words to sink in. “Oh no! It’s our anniversary and I don’t have anything to give him!” She finished Anne’s diaper change with as much speed as she could muster on four hours’ sleep, then grabbed some paper off the printer and three colored pens from the desk drawer, the only artlike supplies she could find. She set Anne back in her crib and turned on the mobile, then sat at the desk and thought for a moment before putting pen to paper. “Daddy is an artist,” she narrated to Anne, “so he’ll probably think my drawing is pretty bad. But oh well, what choice do I have?” She sketched and crafted, and a few minutes later she set down her pen with a self-depreciating laugh. “It’s the thought that counts, right?”

  With another piece of paper she made an envelope, then sealed the card inside with tape and set it on t
he table. “We’ll make Daddy pancakes for breakfast,” she said to Anne, whom she cradled in one arm as she puttered around the kitchen. “He’ll be up in about half an hour, and then we’ll all have breakfast together.”

  Kim had the batter ready to pour forty minutes later, but still Rick was sleeping. An hour later he was still snoring away, and Kim was famished. She gave up on the idea of breakfast together and started a few pancakes for herself, dotting them with chocolate chips. She was just popping the last bite in her mouth when Rick staggered out of the bedroom.

  “Hi sweetheart,” she said through a mouthful of food. “I’m making pancakes; can I get you some? I was going to wait and eat with you but I just got too hungry.”

  Rick waved a hand vaguely. “Yeah, sure.” He nodded to the envelope on the table. “What’s that?”

  “Open it and see.”

  Rick sat down and pulled open the envelope, then read the card. “Oh, it is our anniversary, isn’t it?”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “A whole year ago, can you believe it? Think how much we packed into that year!”

  “Yeah, a lot, huh?” He tossed the card on the table. “Yeah, I forgot all about that, Kim. Sorry.”

  Kim’s good mood slipped a notch. “Oh—that’s alright.” She watched him, waiting for him to bring up the fact that he’d remembered her birthday.

  After a moment he looked up at her. “Why are you staring at me?”

  “Oh—no reason, sorry.” She went into the kitchen to start the pancakes. A niggling fear was growing in the pit of her stomach. No, no, he remembered—just give him some time. He’s probably got some plan. She made the pancakes. He ate them. He left to shower, and when he was done she did the same. Lunch came and went, the dinner dishes were in the sink, and finally, as she sat scrubbing a pot, she said, “Okay, you’re totally killing me here. You did remember it’s my birthday, right?”

  Rick turned around on the couch with a sheepish look on his face. “Aw man, no, I forgot.”

  The emotions that sat so close to the surface these days burst forth like a volcano. “You forgot? Even when I reminded you it was the anniversary of when we met, which was on my birthday, you still didn’t remember? You mean you seriously shopped for an hour at the grocery store?” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t believe you didn’t remember!”

  Rick rolled his eyes as he stood. “It’s been a long week; give me a break.”

  “Give you a break? It’s been a long week for you? I’m the one who gave birth less than a month ago! I’m the one who’s up a million times a night! I’m the one that carries her for hours on end when she’s screaming her head off. And it’s been a long week for you!”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, about that birth and that baby—who’s paying for those? Consider that your present, Kim. I’ve been a little busy working overtime trying to pay off your debt.”

  Kim was livid. “My debt? Last time I checked it takes two to make a baby. Not that you care about her—guess you’re even more like your dad than I thought.” She ended her tirade with a staccatoflung epithet that earned her a slap on the face. Without pausing to think, she slapped him back.

  The beat of silence that followed was deafening. Then Kim gasped out the breath she’d been holding. “Rick, I’m sorry—”

  His face darkened and she knew what she was in for. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

  KIM SAT IN THE DESK CHAIR in the nursery, unaware of the tears that still coursed down her face. Anne was crying as well, lying in the crib where Kim had placed her when Rick had left the apartment. She tried to calm herself, tried to rein in her anger, reminding herself that this was what she deserved and she had no one to blame but herself. It was the same mantra she chanted after every time Rick hit her. But it was getting harder and harder to believe.

  When would her penance be paid? How long would she have to endure this? Years, decades—would she be crying in a room alone somewhere when she was fifty, nursing a cracked rib or a split lip or worse? How much did it take to break even, for the scales to balance and finally tip in her favor?

  When she finally had control of herself, she picked up the baby, ignoring the protests from her aching muscles and new bruises, and cradled her against her chest. “Shhh, it’s okay. Mama’s okay, baby. Hush now.” She began to nurse her, the only almost-foolproof way of calming her, and stroked her head. “You’re so lucky, Anne,” she whispered. “You have a mama who’s going to make sure you don’t turn out the way she did. You’ll never be in this position, I promise. You’ll never have to pay the price I have to pay because you’ll never make the mistakes I’ve made.”

  The tears she thought she’d finished crying began to flow again. I just wish I knew how long this was going to last. I thought I could bear it forever, but I can’t. Maybe if I knew how long it was going to be, I could do it, but now…

  As though sharing her pain, the baby began to cry again. Kim rocked as she murmured soothing, empty promises and prayed for an end to her misery.

  EIGHTEEN

  “Daddy, can we please stay outside and make a snowman?”

  Joshua glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Sweetheart, it’s getting dark. It’s nearly time to make dinner.”

  “We can eat later. I’m not even hungry. Please-please?”

  Joshua pulled into his parking spot and shut off the car. “Okay, but it’s going to have to be a very small, very fast snowman, okay?”

  “Alright!” Maddie swung her feet as Joshua unlocked her seatbelt and helped her to the ground. She took off for the patch in front of their unit and began to form a snowball while he carried her backpack to the railing of their patio and dropped it over.

  “Want some help?” he asked her.

  “No, I want to make it alone. Just watch me.”

  “Alright then.” He leaned against the building and watched as she coaxed the snowball along the ground. His ears picked up the sound of a baby crying, and he realized it was Kim’s daughter. He glanced around the parking lot and saw Rick’s car was not yet there. Here I go, God. Hope you’ve got my back.

  He wandered towards the windows of Kim’s apartment and stopped outside the one decorated with pink curtains. After one last look to the driveway and parking lot, he looked in and saw Kim bouncing the baby in her arms as she walked across the room. He knocked on the window and Kim jumped, then gave a small smile when she saw his face. He looked once more at the parking lot, then motioned for her to open the window.

  “Sounds like the baby has colic, huh?”

  Her eyes swept the parking lot as she spoke, her voice terse. “If that means she screams all the time and I can’t fix it, then yes.”

  “Maddie used to do that. Have you tried swaddling her?”

  Kim frowned. “Like what they do in the hospital? No, I didn’t know…”

  “Give it a shot. It worked wonders for Maddie. And tummy drops too.”

  Kim’s eyebrows arched. “Tummy drops?” She laughed, though there was little amusement in it. “I wish someone had told me about this stuff before.”

  “Have you talked to your pediatrician yet?”

  “We don’t have one. We just go to the clinic, but my one-month appointment isn’t until tomorrow.”

  “Definitely have them show you how to swaddle if you’re not able to figure it out, and in the meantime, a pharmacist can help you find tummy drops at the drug store. Maddie was like a different baby when we started doing those things.”

  Kim’s features melted into a mask of relief. “Thank you so much, Joshua. I’ll send Rick to the drug store tonight.”

  “Great. And, um, I’ve been meaning to tell you, if there’s ever—”

  She shut the window in his face and drew the curtain over it. Headlights washed over the snow. Joshua bent down and began to pack together a snowball.

  “Are you gonna make one too, Daddy?”

  “Yeah, kiddo.” He rolled the ball towards Maddie and waited until he hea
rd a slamming car door before glancing up. Rick went up the walk, ignoring Joshua’s nodded greeting, and let himself into the building without a word.

  Please, God, don’t let him have seen us talking. Joshua paused in his snowman construction to listen for sounds of distress coming from Kim’s apartment, but he heard nothing. He resumed his building, much to Maddie’s delight, but didn’t relax until their snowmen—and their dinner—were complete and not a peep had been heard.

  KIM HAD BEEN CHEERING her turn of luck—until today. The suggestions Joshua had given her at the beginning of the week had worked like magic. The first day of minimal crying gave Kim such a mental boost she found the energy to clean the bathroom before bed, as well as mop the kitchen floor. The second day was even better—it gave her hope that the day before had not just been a fluke, but that Anne had turned a corner with the help of the little pink drops and the snugly-wrapped receiving blankets. The third day she forgot to be as grateful as she had been the two days prior, and the god of calm babies snubbed her once again.

  The crying started just minutes before Rick walked in the door from work. Kim almost had dinner done, but ten minutes before the roast was to come out of the oven, Anne began to wail. “Oh no,” Kim said in the doting voice she found herself using with the baby. “Oh dear, oh dear, what’s wrong now?” She wrapped her up and dropped a dose of the tummy medicine into her wide open mouth, then bounced her gently as she walked around the living room. Unlike the last few days, she didn’t begin to calm down. Instead, she began to wail even more. Kim tried to nurse her, then checked her diaper, but neither solution helped. She tried to sing, she tried to rock. Again, nothing.

  From the nursery, she heard the door slam and called to Rick to take the roast out of the oven when the timer went off. A minute later she smelled something suspicious. She walked out with the baby still in her arms and gasped. Smoke billowed to the ceiling of the kitchen. “What happened?”