Counting to Perfect

by Suzanne LaFleur

  “Yeah, yeah.” I scooched over and rested my head on her shoulder.

  * * *

  —

  Julia jostled me awake. “Put your seat belt on. Make your phone call. Use the house line.”

  They were less likely to answer. And they didn’t. Maybe on purpose.

  So I left a voice mail. Just saying we were all still fine.

  Julia drove us to a motel that was okay, not nice like that mountain lodge palace in the sky, but okay, because Addie was there in her little Pack ’n Play and Julia didn’t even bother to go to a different bed, she just curled up in mine with me.

  When I woke up, I realized my hair had dried in clumps. I itched. “I want to take a shower.”

  “You? A shower?” Julia hit me with a pillow.

  “I’m covered with lake and salt and butter and popcorn.”

  “If I had known a popcorn bombardment was going to be the trick to getting you to shower, I would have tried it years ago.”

  “Shut up. Swimming in chlorine every day is like taking a shower.”

  “Sure.”

  “Can I borrow your hairbrush?”

  She went over to our bags and dug around. She tossed me the hairbrush.

  “Thanks.”

  * * *

  —

  When we climbed into the car, I said, “Your car stinks like a movie theater.”

  “Thanks. You can scrounge around and eat whatever popcorn you can find for breakfast.”

  “Julia!”

  “Just kidding, we’ll stop. But please feel free to eat the popcorn you got everywhere.”

  “Will do.”

  Our morning diner had our favorite breakfast.

  When we spotted it on the menu, we gave a brief chant of “Lum-ber-jack, lum-ber-jack.”

  “People are looking at us,” I whispered.

  Julia stifled a giggle behind her hand as the waitress came over. Julia said, sweetly, “We’ll have the lumberjack, please.”

  I wolfed down my share of the eggs and toast, and tried to steal more bacon, but Julia knocked my hand out of the way with a jab of her fork and got the last piece.

  She polished off the bacon and stirred more sugar into her coffee. “Any particular kind of place you’d like to go?”

  “Everything we do is great.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t drive so far today. Maybe we should find a hotel with a pool again, and just…hang out. Would that be okay?”

  “Yeah. Are you tired?”

  “Yeah, a little.”

  “That’s fine then.”

  I called Dad while we drove, on the house phone again. Again, no one answered. I said we were all good and hung up.

  We didn’t drive too far, but we did go off the highway, to a bed-and-breakfast. The open room had only one bed, which was fine for us because we’d been sharing anyway. The room was flowery and overdecorated.

  “The floor looks okay in here.” Julia examined the plush carpet and spread out a baby blanket. “Better than a hotel anyway. Let Addie roll around a bit; she’s been spending too much time in that car seat.”

  I put Addie on the blanket and lay down next to her, teasing her with toys to make her roll over.

  “Sorry to disappoint,” Julia said, “but you know they won’t have the lumberjack tomorrow? Bed-and-breakfasts serve you something fancy that they pick out.”

  “What if you don’t like it? What if you’re allergic?”

  “I’m sure they make accommodations. Also”—she sighed—“we may have to eat with other people.”

  “Other people?” I wrinkled my nose.

  “I don’t like it, either.” Julia dropped onto the squishy bed and clicked the TV remote, flipping through the channels.

  Addie rolled over again.

  “She’s pretty easy, this baby.” I crawled over to the diaper bag and got a diaper and wipes.

  “You’re getting good at taking care of her. You’re doing stuff before I even think to.”

  “You know? You’re pretty cool for a mom.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you just let me take care of her like you aren’t worried about it.”

  “I’m not worried about it.”

  “Not at all?”

  “No. I’m taking a nap now. You can go out if you want. There’s a stroller for her in the car; you could take her down one of the paths. I want to go swimming later, though, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  I got Addie dressed again—no longer in mountain-ville, she was back in her normal cutesy summer clothes—and even remembered to put sunscreen on her cheeks, and I took her out for a walk, just the two of us.

  “Look, Addie, there’s a bunny.” I came around the front of the stroller and pointed.

  She looked in the direction of the bunny and tried to sit up.

  The bunny ran away and Addie looked into my face instead.

  “What do you think about all day?” I asked her.

  “Mah mah. Gooby bleh.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  I went back to pushing the stroller, admiring Addie’s little bare feet sticking out in front of us, pointing the way.

  * * *

  —

  The bed-and-breakfast’s pool didn’t have chlorine, but something else, maybe salt or bromine. It was built to look like a pond, sloping in naturally, like a beach but with sand only for your eyes and not for your feet. There were even some “rocks” jutting out to swim around.

  “I think we should call this our grand tour of places to swim,” I said to Julia.

  I waded in. The pool wasn’t good for laps. My body kind of missed them. If I ever did end up back home on the team, would I even be able to win races?

  Would there be anyone cheering for me?

  Or would my friends be glad if I lost?

  “What’s on your mind?” Julia asked, joining me in the water with Addie in her arms.

  I shrugged.

  “You’re missing something.”

  I looked at her carefully.

  Oh, Julia, weren’t we always missing something?

  Even at home, I hadn’t felt whole. Not for a long time.

  Run away, I was so happy, but…what on earth were Mom and Dad feeling? A few days ago, they’d had a house full of girls, of noise and laughing and arguing, too. And suddenly, nobody at all.

  If Julia had left by herself, and never said anything to me, never said goodbye, how would I have felt?

  Exactly like Mom and Dad were feeling, probably.

  My stomach squirmed. I pulled my arms around me, still standing only thigh-deep in the water.

  “Cass?” Julia looked at me, real searching and gentle. “You don’t…want to go home now, do you?”

  I shook my head. Started to shiver, standing half in, half out of the water.

  I reached for Addie. Julia handed her to me and got out.

  I dunked Addie a bit and then we started playing a game.

  I would hold her still. Say “Take your mark….BOOP!” And rush her through the water. She would shriek and giggle. When I would hold her still again and say “Take your mark,” she would smile so, so big. Not that she understood the words, just that the words meant the fun swooshing part was coming.

  Eventually, Julia waded back out to us and watched.

  “You’re forgetting the ‘get set.’ ”

  “There’s no ‘get set’ in swimming. Step up; take your marks; go!” I swooshed Addie again. “You should know that. You’ve seen enough meets….Maybe it’s just been so long since you’ve been to one.”

  I stopped, hearing the edge in my voice, and how it must sound to Julia.

  She probably hadn’t been to a meet in over a year.

  I
looked at her.

  Smile gone. Jaw set.

  “Let me take her,” Julia said. “She needs—”

  “What, a bath? She doesn’t need anything!”

  Addie was looking between us like Why are you mad? and then up at me like What happened to our game?

  “You know I wasn’t going to be able to go to all your swim meets forever anyway.”

  I started to swoosh Addie gently again, but without the fanfare. Then I handed her back.

  Julia sighed, settling Addie on her hip. “You know what would be nice, Cass?”

  “What?”

  “Another best day ever.”

  I nodded and walked a couple more inches into the water. “If you have a best day ever, every day, do they still feel as good?”

  “Yes. Yes, they definitely do. Perfect days, all in a row, always feel perfect.”

  But the things to say were building up. Building up in heaps.

  And suddenly I wanted her to know all my secrets. Every stupid, mean thing I had ever done or ever even thought.

  But I was frozen.

  A lake of uncrackable ice.

  “Get going, silly,” Julia said as she got out of the water. “When you’re done, I want to hear the rating on today’s swim experience.”

  Today’s swim experience?

  Excellent.

  Smooth, salty water.

  One happy baby.

  One favorite sister.

  And one big blue sky, stretched out above us, without a single worry.

  First Julia’s T-shirts had just become tight around the middle, like she’d gotten a little belly from eating pizza and not exercising. Julia had always been thin, so that was weird, but not like a stranger would see her and think there was a baby in there.

  And then suddenly, it was as if her tummy just popped out, and it did look that way. Like there was a baby growing in there.

  Last summer she did a lot of napping. Mom got her out to the pool sometimes, for exercise, and she went until she felt too embarrassed to go anymore. Most afternoons when I came in from swim practice, she was curled up on the couch, using both a blanket and the air-conditioning. Sometimes she even had her thumb in her mouth. She hadn’t been a thumb-sucker.

  Mostly, I ignored her, rushing through to a pizza box in the kitchen, to the freezer and the ice cream.

  But one day I sat on the floor in front of her, and before long I felt her fingers weaving their way through my hair. I had almost forgotten her touch. I leaned back, relaxed.

  “I can feel the baby move,” she said.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Do you want to?”

  “How would I feel it?”

  “Just here, put your hands on my stomach.”

  I turned around and put my hand on her stomach. “I don’t really feel anything.”

  Julia looked disappointed. “Oh. Do you think I imagined it?”

  “I don’t think you’re imagining anything.” But I said it mean.

  It wasn’t just about the baby kicking that I said it.

  Julia was looking down at her bump. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  A lump formed in my throat because of how mean I’d been.

  I didn’t take it back, but I moved to sit with her on the couch, settling in behind her bent legs, and leaving my hand on her stomach, where she had told me to feel the baby.

  My sister had a human being growing inside her.

  Maybe it was a lonely thing to feel when you were still a kid yourself.

  Maybe she was afraid.

  “Cass?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I have an appointment next week, to see pictures of the baby. You’ll come with me?”

  “You want me to?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is it during practice?”

  “No, it’s in the morning.”

  So I went. I went with Julia while they took pictures of the alien in her stomach. Mom was there, too, of course, so the tiny room was cramped. I didn’t like how many machines there were.

  “You said you don’t want to know the gender, right?” the technician asked.

  “Right,” Julia said.

  “Look away from the screen for a minute.”

  Mom looked at the boring cabinets over Julia’s head. But Julia looked at me. I understood. If we held our eyes locked on each other, neither of us could cheat. She looked at me and looked at me while a stranger pushed on her belly with a camera trying to figure out the sex of her baby.

  “I got what I needed; you can look back at the screen again,” the woman said.

  Julia’s eyes left mine, and when they fixed back on the screen, which was showing the baby’s face again, Julia looked so peaceful and happy, like maybe it was a miracle after all that a little person was growing in there, and that, one day, we would get to meet him or her.

  We ordered pizza to come to the bed-and-breakfast.

  We put the box right in the middle of the bed and ate piece after piece.

  Best idea ever.

  “How can you eat four pieces of pizza?” Julia asked.

  “You force me to play outside in the water all day and you haven’t been feeding me lunch.”

  “I guess that isn’t that different from what you do at home, is it?”

  “No, not really. Though usually we do have lunch.”

  “And you regularly eat half a pizza anyway?”

  “Yep….How’s our money?”

  “Super, actually. Keep eating.” She scooped up Addie to feed her. Addie cried a little bit, took longer than usual to get settled.

  It didn’t bother me.

  The pillows were so fluffy. I leaned back with my pizza crust.

  * * *

  —

  Julia’s laughing woke me up.

  “What, are you just going to sleep in that pizza box?” She pried the crust out of my hand while I tried to mumble an answer. She brushed the hair off my forehead and planted a kiss there.

  When she came back from the bathroom, she cuddled me and drowned us in the down covers.

  * * *

  —

  Addie was crying.

  I kicked Julia.

  “Give her ten minutes.”

  But she didn’t stop.

  I kicked Julia again.

  She went over to the Pack ’n Play. “Hey, Addie-girl. What’s the matter? Hungry?”

  She picked her up. Addie stopped crying for only a second.

  “Hey, hey….” Julia bounced her for a minute, then paused. Unzipped Addie’s pajamas. “Oh no. Cass?”

  “Mm?”

  Julia turned on the light, brought Addie over. Addie looked all red from crying. She looked from me to her mom, wanting somebody to help her. She wailed.

  “Does she feel too hot to you?” Julia asked.

  I put the back of my hand on Addie’s forehead, my palm on her chest.

  I nodded.

  Julia left Addie on the bed and got her phone.

  “Are you calling Mom and Dad?”

  She gave me the evil eye.

  “911?” Was Addie really sick?

  Julia seemed to be reading something on the phone. Then she searched something else.

  Addie cried and cried.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s okay.” But my hands were shaking as I wiggled her the rest of the way out of her pajamas.

  Julia got up, pulled on a sweatshirt, put her phone in the pocket, stepped into her flip-flops. Grabbed her keys and wallet.

  “Stay with her, okay?”

  And she was out the door.

  I looked at Addie, lying in the middle of the big bed, still crying.

  My heart started pounding.

 
I thought. Then I went to the bathroom and ran a washcloth under cold water. I squeezed it out and went back to the bed.

  “Here…here.” I folded the washcloth into a rectangle and set it on Addie’s forehead. Like they did in movies when someone had a fever. Her crying came down a notch, probably because she was curious about the little towel on her head. After a minute, I moved the washcloth to her chest, and left it there while I got a new diaper and changed her.

  “Ah-ih…ah-ih…” Her sobs turned into hiccups. The hiccups became a clock, marking the passing time. Then she looked around again, probably for Julia, and her lip started quivering, and then she was howling again, this time with hiccups thrown in.

  I took off the washcloth.

  “Shh…shh…”

  I didn’t want to pick her up and make her hotter.

  Finally the door burst open. Julia ran over and tossed a drugstore bag on the bed.

  She looked at Addie. Relief swept across her face.

  “Cass, you about gave me a heart attack! Why are you crying?”

  “I’m just…glad you’re back, is all.”

  Julia made a face at me like I had slapped her. She bit her lip and started opening the boxes she’d got.

  An ear thermometer, like we had at home. Julia got it set up and took Addie’s temperature.

  “Okay. It’s one hundred flat. That’s not too bad.”

  Julia took out medicine and an eyedropper. She read the medicine box carefully before she opened the bottle and measured the right amount in the eyedropper.

  “Sit her up for me.”

  I sat Addie up and kept my hand behind her back.

  “Thank God there was a twenty-four-hour pharmacy nearby. I was worried there wouldn’t be.”

  Julia started to give her the medicine. Addie made a face and drooled the medicine back out. Julia wiped her shiny lip with the washcloth.

  “I need to know you’re swallowing this.” She gave her the rest of the medicine in one quick squirt, and held Addie’s mouth closed until she had swallowed. “There, see it’s okay. It’s okay.” Julia pulled Addie to her, and then rested against the headboard. She relaxed and eventually Addie relaxed. Stopped crying. Fell asleep.

  I sat on the bed, watching.