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Page 61
Page 61
‘It’s not me,’ he said as I eased myself carefully onto the bed. Isby opened her mouth, but only yawned, then settled against me. ‘It’s the swaddle. It’s like magic. My mom swears by it.’
‘It’s amazing,’ I said. ‘How does she know all this?’
‘She was a maternity ward nurse,’ he replied. ‘Just retired last year. Plus my brother and sister have four kids between them. Add in all of us, and she’s had a lot of practice.’
There was a light tap on the door, and then Mrs. Stock stuck her head in. ‘Heidi’s going to take a little rest,’ she said. ‘Let’s go downstairs.’
Eli and I followed her down the hall, past Heidi’s room, where I could see a small sliver of light under the closed door. Just as I started down the steps, it went out.
In the kitchen, Mrs. Stock went to the sink, where she washed her hands, then dried them on a paper towel. ‘All right,’ she said, turning to me with a smile. ‘Give me that baby.’
I did, and she took her, easing down into a chair, and I watched as she brushed her fingers over Isby’s forehead. ‘This is a good swaddle,’ she said.
‘Eli’s a pro,’ I told her.
‘Just well trained,’ he said, and we both watched as she rocked Isby slowly, patting her back with her hand.
‘Thank you for coming,’ I said finally. ‘Heidi’s been having kind of a hard time. But when I got home and found her like that… I didn’t know what to do.’
‘She’s a new mom,’ Mrs. Stock said, still looking down at Isby. ‘She’s exhausted.’
‘My dad tried to convince her to get help. But she wouldn’t do it.’
Mrs. Stock adjusted the blanket a bit. ‘When I had Steven, my oldest, my mother came and lived with me for a month. I couldn’t have done it without her.’
‘Heidi’s mom died a couple of years ago.’
‘She mentioned that,’ she said, and I thought of Heidi’s face, crumpled, as she curled into Mrs. Stock, there in the dark. I wondered what else she’d said. ‘The truth is, being a mom is the hardest job in the world. But she’ll be fine. She just needs some rest.’
We all considered this as Isby, way ahead of us all, closed her eyes. Mrs. Stock looked at Eli. ‘You,’ she said, ‘would be well advised to go to bed as well. Don’t you work in the morning?’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘But –’
‘Then get on home,’ she replied. ‘Leave me your keys. You can pick up the truck tomorrow.’
‘So I’m walking?’ he asked.
She gave him a flat look. ‘Eli Joseph. It’s four blocks. You’ll survive.’
Eli grumbled, but he was smiling as he dropped his keys onto the table. ‘Thanks, Mom,’ he said. She offered him her cheek, and he kissed it, then turned toward the door. I followed him out onto the porch.
‘So,’ I said, glancing back into the kitchen, where Mrs. Stock was still rocking Isby, ‘guess it’s an early night.’
‘Guess so,’ he said. ‘Mom doesn’t exactly know about my nocturnal habits.’
‘She wouldn’t approve?’
He shook his head. ‘Nope. In her mind, no good can come after midnight.’
I looked up at him, then smiled. ‘Well, I have to say, your mom’s amazing. But I don’t agree with that.’
‘She is amazing,’ he said. ‘And I don’t either.’ Then he leaned down, kissing me, and I slid my arms around his neck, pulling him a little closer. I could have stood there all night, good or no good, but then he was pulling back, glancing over my head at the kitchen. ‘I better go.’
I nodded. ‘See you tomorrow.’
He smiled, then stepped off the porch and started down the front walk. I waved one last time, then watched him until he disappeared into the dark just past the streetlight’s glow. Up in my room, I leaned out my window and looked down the road in the direction he’d gone. It was a long, flat road, and as it got later there were only a few lights visible, here and there. I picked one that I figured was about four blocks down. Then I watched it like a star, burning bright, all the way until morning.
Chapter ELEVEN
It was a week later, and my brother was scheduled to arrive around five P.M. At four thirty, my phone rang.
‘I’m only calling,’ my mother said, ‘to warn you.’
She and I had not spoken since her own visit to Colby had ended so disastrously, a fact that seemed to now be behind us, if this contact was any indication. Still, I was cautious as I said, ‘Warn me about what?’
There was a pause as she took a sip of what I assumed was her early glass of wine. Then she said, ‘The Laura.’
The qualifier pretty much said it all, but I bit anyway. ‘What? You don’t like her?’
‘Auden,’ she said. I could almost hear her shudder. ‘She’s horrible. Horrible. I don’t know what your brother got into over there, but clearly, it’s given him brain damage. This girl, she’s… she’s…’
Rarely had my mother ever been at a loss for words. I was actually starting to get a little worried.
‘… a scientist,’ she finished. ‘One of those cold, methodical types, all about hypotheses and control groups. And her ego in assuming that everyone else is interested in it as well? Unparalleled. Last night she bored us for an entire dinner talking about myelinated cells.’