by Ariella Papa
Later, on the way out, we walked by the NICU. Paul pointed Ananda out to me. She looked like Jamie, but with Raj’s coloring. She was sleeping peacefully. I pressed my face to the glass and gasped.
“I can’t believe that yesterday that was inside Jamie.”
“Now it’s here on our planet.”
“It’s crazy,” I said. At that moment, without opening her eyes, Ananda Maura Jacobs-Sarakanti opened her mouth and let out the biggest wail I had ever heard.
She was making her presence known. She was in our world and we’d better like it.
20
I called Jamie every day for the first week of her motherhood. She sounded beat, and sometimes Raj—who was on paternity leave—deflected my calls, saying she was asleep. I wanted her to know that at the drop of a hat I would be there, because my pregnancy book said that new moms were on an emotional roller coaster. I felt a little better knowing that her mom was coming every other day.
I scheduled myself for an appointment with Diane the day before my first home visit with the new family. I filled Diane in about Jamie’s labor and my accepted bid. Diane had given me the name of her lawyer when I started my house hunt, so when Maureen asked me who I was going to use, I said him. Now Diane seemed to be a little less obsessed with religion, but she let it slip that she had seen The Passion four times. I decided not to go for a bikini wax.
Maureen phoned as I was coming out of the salon. I had long since stopped looking forward to her calls. Usually it meant bad news, or more money spent.
“What now?” I answered.
“I called Rob Agranoff. He hasn’t heard from you.”
Maureen was turning into my mother. Rob Agranoff was the lawyer. I had never needed a lawyer before, but everything I had read said that one was necessary.
“I haven’t had a chance. Besides, they just accepted my offer.”
“Until the contract is signed, Voula, something could go wrong. Call him and get the ball rolling, because I would hate for the sellers to get tired of waiting.”
“Okay, I can’t call today, but I will call tomorrow.” I was starting the column in my head. My real estate agent, having successfully hooked me on a place, has now revealed that she is only interested in getting me to seal the deal so she can collect her commission. Though we had never overtly talked about it, I was pretty sure that Maureen read my column in Financial Woman. I tried not to think about what she would think of this one.
I called Rob Agranoff and made an appointment for the next day. I wasn’t due at Jamie’s until one, or as Jamie said, “when she should be down.” I finished my column about having your apartment bid finally accepted and then dashed off the outline for my next column: “Getting Legal.” It would cover the lawyer aspect of my purchase.
I was going to sign the contract and hand over the biggest check I had ever written.
I was adding three zeros to the number twenty-two when it hit me that I wasn’t really sure I wanted to do this. I had only seen the place once. Okay, I knew the location pretty well, but I hadn’t been back at different times of the day. What if there were large, loud warehouses I didn’t know about that started making noise at two a.m.? What if the neighbors sucked? They had an unusual sublet policy: you had to be there for a year before you could sublet three out of every five years. What did that even mean? What was I getting myself into?
But I had an appointment at eleven. So I went downtown to Rob Agranoff’s offices near City Hall.
Rob Agranoff was a tall, thin man with a bird’s nose and a thick New York accent. He appeared competent and told me that he would charge me seven hundred upfront and seven hundred at the closing.
That, in addition to the fee I was going to have to pay the bank for giving me a jumbo mortgage to cover the rest of the twenty percent, was more money that I hadn’t anticipated. When did it stop? The only plus was that I managed to lock in my rate for sixty days.
After Rob went over his fees, he began explaining the contract and I began zoning. It was as if he were speaking another language. I knew I should be following. He had gone through the trouble of making a copy for me.
“Now, you should probably get a closing in early May.”
Finally, I was paying attention. “What?”
“Well, I think that’s fairly average for getting everything together. You know, you have to get co-op approval.”
“It’s so soon,” I said. Walk away. Walk away.
I hadn’t told Armando that I planned on moving out by May. I had just continued to be swept along in all of this. Maybe it was a sign that I needed more time. Fuck it. I was spending money, I wanted a house.
“Usually, people are happy to have this go quicker.”
“I guess I am.”
“Okay, so all I need now is for you to sign this and give me the check. Then the sellers will sign and we’ll be all set.”
“And then it’s done. I can’t break the deal.”
“Do you want to do this?” Rob asked, looking over the contract. “It seems like a pretty good deal for the size and the neighborhood. Do you have a concern?”
“No.” I didn’t really. I mean, sure there were things I didn’t know, but how long could I dilly-dally about this? “No, I’ll sign.”
And I did. I signed my name on the contract. That was fine. It wasn’t until I handed over the jumbo check that I really felt locked in. What was wrong with me? I wanted this. I had to grow up.
“Okay, so we’re all set. I’ll call you as we get closer to the closing and tell you what we need.”
That was it. Then I was back out on the street. I felt like I had never spent money so fast—but it hadn’t been fast. It had been coming. I was moving with life. I couldn’t fight it. I had to go with it. It had been about a year since Jamie announced that she was trying. Things had moved along without me. Maybe for once I could make them move with me.
When I got to Jamie’s, she answered the door looking fatigued. Her body still seemed top-heavy and she was wearing the same outfit she had been wearing at the hospital. My ringing the bell must have set off Sparky, who began barking, setting off the baby. Jamie looked like she needed a Calgon bath.
“Welcome to the madhouse,” she said to me, then she screamed, “Shut up, Sparky!”
I thought about the mother at Alice’s lunch who had said Sparky would play second fiddle, and wondered if that had already happened.
Raj came in carrying the crying baby. She was still so small. I reached out to touch her and Raj jerked her away. It was awkward, but I pretended not to notice and sat down on their couch, hoping to at least get some affection from Sparky. He jumped all over me but wouldn’t settle down and be cuddled.
“How are you?” I asked Jamie, who was staring toward the kitchen where Raj was attending to Ananda.
“Fine,” she said, distracted by whatever Raj was doing in there. There was a line between her eyebrows. She called into the kitchen. “Raj, don’t give her the formula. I’m coming.”
I didn’t know if I was ready to witness the breasts I had always admired being suckled by a tiny person, but I had no choice. Raj brought Ananda back in to be nursed. He seemed more uptight than Jamie, but both of them were looking pretty nervous.
“I still don’t know if I’m doing this right,” Jamie said, almost apologizing to me. Ananda made such weird gaspy noises it seemed like she could stop breathing at any second and it didn’t matter whether or not she was being fed. This whole thing was pretty scary. Raj and Jamie didn’t seem like they should know how to take care of this itty-bitty creature, but there they were, cradling it, trying to figure it out. It was surreal.
“How is she?” Raj asked.
“I don’t think she wants anything,” Jamie said, sounding unsure.
“She was giving the cues,” Raj said defensively.
The little blob didn’t seem capable of giving anything. How could they expect to decipher anything about this riddle?
“When’s the last
time she ate?” Jamie focused on the clock.
They would do this throughout my visit: try to gauge the last time the baby ate, slept, shit. The baby was on some kind of clock with constantly changing hands.
After the attempt at feeding, Raj put Ananda back to bed. The crib was in their room, where it would stay for six weeks (or at least that was the current plan). I was happy that Raj made himself scarce. I wanted to get the lowdown from Jamie about what was really going on, but I told myself to tread carefully. I was getting this vibe from her that she could crack at any second.
“So, how are you?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to be.”
“But how are you?” I asked again.
“I just don’t really feel connected to myself. I feel like I have no control. Raj has been wonderful. He’s got this thing, though, about germs and the baby. He’s really paranoid, because she was so early.”
That explained the pull-away.
“Are you worried?”
“Voul, I’m worried about so much other shit, germs are the least of my problems. Also, this breast thing. I think Raj doubts I can do it. Hell, I doubt I can do it.”
“You can do it,” I said. I had no idea what “doing it” entailed, but I wanted to rally the troops.
“I don’t know that I can.”
She grimaced, and for a moment she started to cry, but before I was able to try to comfort her, she stopped, glancing into the other room to make sure Raj couldn’t see.
She continued. “It hurts, sometimes. And I’m not sure she’s getting what she needs. I don’t know if I can give her what she needs.”
“Of course you can, you’re her mom.”
Jamie shook her head. “Well, I don’t think Raj believes she is going to get enough to eat. It was better when my mom was here. She kind of deflected him. Now he wants to buy a scale so we can calculate the number of ounces she gains.”
I didn’t really know what to say. I waited so she could continue.
“This isn’t my body,” she said, gesturing to her milk-stained shirt. “I don’t know what this is. It’s like a machine that gives birth and makes food, just not very well.”
“You’re doing great.”
“Not really. I called Alice the first day I was by myself with her. Raj had to go in and approve the promos for the season premiere. Ananda had been crying the entire day. In twenty-four hours, she slept maybe, maybe, three.”
“Wow!”
“Wow is right. But you know what? Alice had acted like the first few weeks were so great that I didn’t want to say anything. I just prayed that she couldn’t hear Ananda crying.”
“You could have called me,” I said. She looked at me and I know she was thinking the same thing I was—what did I know about kids? I was still avoiding my boyfriend’s at all costs. “Okay, so I’m not Dr. Spock, but I did read that book.”
“Yes, that book, I know about the book. Thank you for that. I appreciate that you read that book.”
“What I mean is, you could just call me if you wanted to complain.” The thing is, I meant it. I was so in awe of the fact that she had actually created that alien thing, I would have done almost anything to show my respect.
“Be careful what you wish for,” she said.
“I’m serious.”
Jamie looked at me and nodded. She nodded for a long time, and then I realized that she was actually going to let herself cry again. This time, I got to her and hugged her before she could stop herself. If the baby got to cry all the time, she should be able to too.
“I just don’t know what she needs.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’re doing just fine. And I’m here. I don’t have advice on babies, but I’m here for times like this, or, say, if you need to shower or something.” The book I kept reading said new moms had no time even to shower.
“Do I smell that bad?” Jamie said, pulling away. There were still tears running out of her eyes, but she was smiling.
“Well, you’ve certainly had fresher days.” I let her cry for a while and then she made me tell her about this new Peruvian place that Paul and I had gone to on Smith Street.
“I like hearing this stuff,” she said when I was done. “I like feeling normal and I like that you and Paul are doing so well. This is so unlike you. You’re actually letting this work.”
“It wasn’t me, you know, with the problems. It was just that I never met anyone worth it.”
“Except Warren Tucker.”
“Except Warren Tucker, but he was unattainable. This is happening.”
“Speaking of Warren Tucker…”
“Here we go, just when I am happy with Paul.”
“You never watched the tape, did you?”
“I watched part of it. I don’t think I want to watch the rest. I don’t want to see him. I’m happy now with Paul. I don’t want to think about Warren.” It was sort of true. I was happy with Paul, but I still thought about Warren.
“Oh,” Jamie said. She looked so bummed.
“What?”
“Well, I was going to ask you something.”
“Anything,” I said.
“It’s about Raj’s show.”
“Anything except anything having to do with Raj’s shows. I have no desire to be a reality-TV star.”
“Not star. You know Mr. Right…Now is premiering this week. Raj is really stressed, not just about the baby but about the fact that it’s going head to head with The Apprentice.”
“Are you serious?” There was no way that was a good idea.
“Yes, but the premiere party is this week at the W in Midtown East. It’s supposed to be in the penthouse.”
“Cool.”
“Well, yeah. If you aren’t leaking milk. He really wants me to go.”
“Of course, I’ll baby-sit.”
“No, I think you should go.”
“Will you be there?” Maybe I could do it if she was at my side. It was kind of a good idea, I guess. I could get Warren out of my head once and for all. Maybe.
“No. I’m just not up to it. I don’t feel like leaking all over some nice outfit that doesn’t fit me right anyway. I don’t feel like being judged by the super-toned women that he works with. I know it’s going to piss him off, but I don’t want to go.”
“They do know, these women and Raj, that you just gave birth.”
“If Raj was married to Alice, she would be there. Even if she was in labor. He’s married to me and I’d like him to go with my best friend. That’s you, okay?”
“I don’t know.”
“C’mon. See Warren. You can do it. Plus, it’s going to be a great party. It’s for the whole cast. And you can’t reveal to anyone that Warren’s one of the top two to get the Golden Condom.”
“Did he win?”
“I don’t know. It’s going to be a live finale, but you might be able to guess from how he acts at the party.”
“Okay. I’ll go.” Suddenly my stomach was dropping. I couldn’t believe I was going to see Warren Tucker…soon. “When?”
“Saturday night.” Saturday was my cousin Georgia’s shower. I was trying not to stress about the fact that Helen and I had talked about her coming. We had seen each other only a handful of times since Christmas, but Helen felt strongly that now that she and I were getting along, she had a right to be involved with the whole family. She did, I guess.
I updated Jamie on what was going on with my family. I had the same feeling I’d had in the hospital room, that she needed me to take her hand and link her to the outside world. I feared that she was starting not to be able to see out of her apartment, with its barking dog and crying baby. I feared that she was becoming overwhelmed by dirty diapers.
When I got back to my place, it was early evening. Kelly was home and on the phone with her new boyfriend, Joel, and Armando was in the kitchen making some cucina povera that I had no doubt would taste fantastic, like nothing I had ever eaten. I had
the perfect opportunity to break the news of my move to them, but instead, I went in my office and hid.
My mom and I showed up at The Crystal Palace in Astoria for the shower. I only came to this hall for events like these, and I dreaded it. Bridal showers for Greek women are set up to torment the single. They didn’t show this in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, but women greet unmarried women at these showers by saying “Kai sta dika sou,” which means “and at yours,” which is kind of implying that you should get on the stick and find a guy (Greek, of course) so they can come to your shower and then the Greek god can get you pregnant before your ovaries shrivel and die or you become an old spinster woman making melomakarona for no one but yourself.
This time when people said it to me, I thanked them and smiled as usual, unlike my cousin Toula who always says with her Greek accent, “fingers crossed,” like some kind of desperate freak. But my smile hid a little secret. So I wasn’t going to be having a shower anytime soon, but I did have my prospects. My melomakarona could be eaten by my boyfriend—if I ever got the recipe out of my mother’s hands.
Helen was there when we arrived. My aunt Effie sat her with some of Georgia’s friends from her graduate program. I waved over to her as soon as we got in, and felt my mother tense.
“What is she doing here?” she hissed at me.
“She came to see her cousin?”
“You knew she would be here?”
“Yes, Ma.” I acted like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’ll go get you some wine.” I took my time, making a sport out of thanking everyone who wanted to come to the shower I might never have. I even bent to kiss my sister Helen, which seemed to mean a lot to her.
“I thought you were going to bring Cristina. She would have had fun.”
“I was scared of Ma. I didn’t want Cristina to know that her grandmother could be so mean. Andre’s sisters have her thinking her grandmother is a witch.”
I looked over at my mother. I could tell that Aunt Effie was doing some kind of damage control. My mother’s face was contorted.