Bundle of Joy?

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Bundle of Joy? Page 28

by Ariella Papa


  Ananda was asleep in my arms and I was sleeping on the couch when Jamie came home. I was startled by the door. Jamie’s face lit up when she saw Ananda. I’d always thought Jamie was pretty, but she had never looked more beautiful than when she smiled at her daughter.

  “So how was it?” Jamie asked, scooping the sleeping baby up.

  “She was good. I’m exhausted.”

  I got dinner ready while Jamie played with Ananda, then bathed her and put her to bed. Raj was going to be working late. At around eight o’clock we sat down for pasta with broccoli and garlic. Jamie opened a bottle of wine. Right before she took a bite, she sighed.

  “Is it going to be okay?” I asked.

  “I think so,” she said. “It’s just strange to only see her for a couple of hours after being home with her all the time for almost four months.”

  I nodded. “What do you think makes you more tired? Working or being here working.”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if it’s just because it’s the first day, but I don’t know if I can ever be as focused on work as I used to be.”

  “Do you think you’ll quit? I bet you could stay home on Raj’s salary.”

  “You know, I’ve thought a lot about it. I like working too much. I want my daughter to have a happy mom. I love that my mom stayed with us, but I think sometimes she felt unsatisfied.”

  I had never thought of Maura as unhappy. It was funny how you saw people the way you wanted to see them.

  “I think if anything, I might try to work from home one day a week.”

  “Do you think you’ll get much done?”

  “Eventually I will. What I’ve learned is that eventually it gets easier. You get the swing of things. Well, you’ll see.”

  Jamie was right about that. I did find myself getting more accustomed to Ananda. I found after a couple of days that I was more comfortable holding her and I could anticipate what she needed. When we went to the park, the other nannies thought she was my daughter. Looking at her, I realized that we looked a lot alike because of our coloring. I think I was starting to like her more.

  She got fussy at times, it wasn’t all gravy, but sometimes I could actually put her in the Baby Bjorn and get some work done. I sort of liked the idea of her nestled up against my chest, sleeping peacefully. I wasn’t getting soft—I still wasn’t sure I wanted kids, despite Paul’s constant polling—but it definitely seemed more doable. Like Jamie had said, I got into the swing.

  It was exhausting, though. That didn’t get easier. The few nights that I went over to Paul’s I fell asleep on him. Most nights Jamie and I conked out on the couch, watching reality TV (she had lied to Raj about liking anything other than his productions) or a DVD. In some ways, it was like the days we used to hang out in high school.

  Raj was back to working pretty late. He would usually go in and kiss Ananda before he went to bed, but he always made sure he washed his hands thoroughly and then used disinfectant gel. The one time he got home before Jamie, he insisted she change her entire outfit before he would hand the baby over to her.

  Being with Jamie so much and taking care of Ananda made me think about my own mother. We hadn’t spoken since Georgia’s shower. She just wouldn’t return the messages I kept leaving. She was going to see me soon at Georgia’s wedding whether she liked it or not, but she wouldn’t call me back.

  I couldn’t believe my mother would choose to be alone. I knew she was being spiteful, but I also knew that she was hurting.

  When Georgia’s invitation came, I called again. I wanted to gauge my mother’s reaction before I decided to bring Paul. I knew that when she saw me with a strange non-Greek man she would be upset. I might make the situation irreparable. I wasn’t willing to give up Paul for her, but if she called me I might not bring him.

  She didn’t call me. It bothered me that she could shut me out. Maybe it wasn’t easy for her, but obviously it wasn’t that hard. There was no way she could know whether I was okay, but she didn’t care. We had been through these silences before but it had been three months, which is when she usually cracked. Rationally, I knew she would call me eventually, bitterly, but it still hurt.

  I guess a part of me kept hoping that I was going to have this healing moment with her. It happened on Oprah. People seemed like they could change, but maybe they couldn’t. Maybe the only thing I could do was accept it and change my attitude accordingly.

  We weren’t ever going to have one of those moments at the end of a movie where the parents come to their senses or the kids come to their senses. No one was coming anywhere. This was who we were. I had to continue moving forward with my life.

  I RSVP’d for two people. I would bring Paul.

  The night before the closing Jamie decided to come home early. I would be staying over at Paul’s the following night to be there when my movers arrived. We didn’t really spend a lot of time together with Ananda. Usually when Jamie got home, I prepared dinner and let her have time alone with her daughter. That afternoon, we took her over to the grassy area along the pier on the Hudson River. There was a cool breeze and the buzz of people talking as they enjoyed a summer night.

  Jamie had packed some cold white wine in the diaper bag, and she poured us two plastic cups. We spread out a blanket and we let Ananda lie on her stomach. She looked adorable in a pink and yellow sundress. Jamie took tons of pictures of us. We asked a couple next to us to get a picture of the three of us.

  “So are you sure you’re going to be all right at that closing tomorrow? Do you want me to meet you there? I am going to have a summer Friday.”

  “No, Paul asked me the same thing. He was going to take off work. If it doesn’t take, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Maybe it’s a sign I should walk away.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “No. I’m tired of believing in signs. I do think things happen for a reason, but I think that maybe you can have more control over your own life than you actually think.”

  Jamie smiled. “You know, I took a pregnancy test this morning.”

  “What? Already?” More trying?

  “Believe me, it wasn’t intentional. And I’m not pregnant. Thank goodness. I guess we weren’t being careful and it was nice to sort of get caught up in the moment.”

  “So I guess you’re back in the saddle again, huh?”

  “Well, we were that night.” She glanced at Ananda. “It got me thinking—I definitely want another one. It seems to me that no matter how tough things can be, they get better, you just have to be patient.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I can’t believe you’re ready to get knocked up again.”

  “Not just yet,” Jamie said. “But soon.”

  Ananda was being so good. It was past her bedtime, but she was still in a cheerful mood. It was as if she wanted her mom to have a lovely night. We propped her against the diaper bag and she giggled. Jamie gave her the last bottle for the evening, and then we watched the sun sink in the sky. I held on to one of Ananda’s soft fat kicking legs and made a promise to myself to be there to help Ananda grow up the way her mom had helped me.

  At the closing, the seller’s attorney was on time and kissing my ass. Rob made it clear that she and her clients would be paying the adjournment fee and the cost to extend my mortgage rate. She tried to protest, but he quickly explained that it was not up for discussion. Maureen gave me an impressive nod as if to say that our side had scored. I wasn’t confident about that much at that moment.

  It was the bank that we sat waiting for in the conference room of the co-op attorney’s office. Maureen tried to ease my tension by showing me pictures of the triplets on their first trip to her lake house. I appreciated her efforts, but felt my body tense. I didn’t want to waste more time.

  Finally the bank representative arrived with apologies. His previous closing had run over by an hour because of the sellers’ lateness. I was amazed at the domino effect of all of it. No matter how self-sufficient you
tried to be, the actions of others affected you.

  Once again, Rob wrote out a bunch of figures on a yellow legal pad. I tried to follow along to get a true sense of how much more money I would be spending than I had anticipated. In the end, it made no sense and I wrote out whatever checks I was told to.

  Then I began the process of signing form upon form. Again. My hand hurt when I looked up for another form and there was none. The seller’s attorney was also cleaned out. I looked at Rob.

  “That’s it,” he said, smiling.

  “You own an apartment,” Maureen said, handing me the key. “Now you can celebrate.”

  I called Paul as soon as I got out of the subway. “I’m one block away from my new home.”

  “Congratulations, you’re a homeowner.”

  “I know, I’m going there now. I think I’m gonna lick the floor. I can’t believe it’s true. I’ve finally won the real estate game.”

  He laughed. “So, you are cool doing this on your own.”

  “I am fantastic.” I was at the gate. “I’m here.”

  “Take it easy, Ms. Mogul.”

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  I walked through the courtyard, where someone had set up a picnic table and a grill. I got my keys out. I unlocked the hall door and then took a deep breath before opening mine.

  Okay, it was still tiny. It had somehow grown in my memory. I had paid way too much, but it was mine. All mine. And it was sunny and cheery. This is where I would live. I couldn’t get over it. I walked to the center of the room and twirled in the sunlight. It was unreal.

  I couldn’t wait to have my boxes unpacked and start my life here. It was all going to be okay. I felt for the first time in my life something I couldn’t identify. I was a writer who just didn’t know the words. It was beyond hope. It surpassed happiness.

  In the center of a small room in a carriage house in Chelsea, I felt something foreign and wonderful.

  For the first time ever, I felt joy.

  BUNDLE OF JOY?

  A Red Dress Ink novel

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-0425-6

  © 2005 by Ariella Papa.

  All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission. For permission please contact Red Dress Ink, Editorial Office, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents and places are the products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real. While the author was inspired in part by actual events, none of the characters in the book is based on an actual person. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

  ® and TM are trademarks. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and/or other countries.

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