PART 17
I have no idea what some of this stuff is for. I have enough clothes for triplets, boxes of wipes and lotions (Baby aromatherapy? Really?), a musical crib mobile which plays All The Pretty Horses, which always gives me the creeps somehow, and a monitor which does everything but make dinner and take out the trash. But then, from Kerry of all people, something just for me; a basket full of bath oils and scented candles "For mom". She gives me a real smile "You'll be invisible once this baby's born. I thought maybe you could use a little pampering while you have the chance. You won't have time to lie in the tub later." I'm touched, no, really, I am, and I don't know what to say, but there's more. She waits until everyone else has left the lounge and hands me another package. "For Dad". Then she's gone. I turn the package over in my hands but can't figure out what it is; I'm still wondering when Luka arrives.
"Ready to go?"
"I have another three hours to go."
"No you don't; Kerry's sending you home."
"She is?"
"Told me earlier to pick you up at nine. Where are we going to put all this stuff?"
"Beats me. You have the car outside?"
"Still going to take about six trips."
"Go grab a gurney – we can put it all on there."
"Oh, beautiful and resourceful."
"You better believe it. You think you could snag a wheelchair too? This whole walking thing sucks right now."
......................................................................................................
Outside the cold is like a slap in the face and it's snowing, big, feathery flakes.
"White Christmas then." I say as I struggle with the seat belt.
"Looks that way. When do you want to get a tree?"
"Tree?" My mind goes straight to the little cherry and almond trees at the bottom of the garden.
"Christmas tree."
"We're getting one?"
"Of course we're getting one." When I don't answer he goes on "We're not?"
"I don't know. I hadn't thought about it."
"I have. We should have one."
"Maybe a little one."
"It's a tree – they're supposed to be big. What's the point of a little Christmas tree? "
"We have nothing to put on it."
"We'll get stuff."
"Doesn't seem right."
"What?"
"New stuff."
"No?"
"When I was little it was . . . it was seeing the same stuff coming out of the boxes each year that was part of the . . . "
"Part of the what?"
"Fun." I finish, flatly.
"Must have been new once."
"I wonder if Mom still has it all."
"It's hers. We can make our own history. We should start now."
I should be excited about that but instead I'm sad and sort of scared. I have to make a history when I've spent most of my life trying to pretend mine didn't happen. I can't talk about it right now because he's so obviously caught up in the idea.
"You had dinner?"
"I had dinner with Carter."
"Really?"
"Really."
"He OK?"
"He seemed a little . . . confused."
"What about?"
"You." His voice is tight.
"What?" Jesus, what has the idiot been saying now?
"You talked to him about your . . . plans."
"I mentioned it, yeah." Shit.
"Well . . . " he pauses, taking a left turn, "he mentioned it right back."
"And?"
"I don't think he approves."
"I don't give a rat's ass if he approves."
"Nicely put. He also seems to think that you're trying to prove something."
"I am."
"I don't think we're talking about the same thing."
"Don't I know it."
"I think . . . I think he meant well."
"Sure."
"Don't worry about it."
"Look, I don't think things with him and Jing-Mei –" I don't know why I want to defend him.
"Not my business."
"I know. I just don't want you to – "
"And I don't want him in our bedroom." This could turn into a fight without much effort from either of us.
"He's my friend, Luka."
"He's a friend you used to sleep with; he should tread carefully."
"I'll speak to him."
"No need. I think we . . . understand each other now."
"Why does that not make me feel a whole lot better?"
"Forget about it. He'll get over it. And if he doesn't, well, he doesn't. Not our problem." I can't think what to say to that. He's right, of course he's right. Carter isn't our problem, and yet . . . you know, sometimes I think aphids have the right idea – born pregnant, no need for all this complicated sex stuff. I mean, the sex stuff has its good points, from what I can remember, but there's always fallout, always baggage. He reaches over and covers my hand with his as the traffic light glows red in front of us.
"He'll live."
......................................................................................................
The stuff from the shower covers the dinner table, and it's only as we stand back to take it all in that I remember the package in my bag.
"What's this?"
"For you."
"Me?"
"From Weaver."
"You're kidding."
"Nope."
"What is it?"
"How would I know? Open it."
He stares down at what's in the wrapping paper.
"Well?"
"A camera."
"A what?"
"A digital camera." I pick up the tag which has fallen to the floor. "Luka -I thought you might be needing this. KW."
"Wow." He's very quiet. I know he has no pictures of his kids except for the little black and white snap of Dani and Jasna he carries in his wallet. I meant to ask Ivica if he had any but it felt too weird and I never did. "Does she know . . . " I start.
"I never told her." He looks at me questioningly and I shake my head. "Maybe Carol . . . "he says
"Or maybe it has nothing to do with, well, to do with –"
"I guess not. I should call her, say thank you."
"You'll be seeing her tomorrow." He nods, passes a hand over his eyes. I have to move this on.
"Hey, don't get ideas above your station. She bought me something too."
"I can see that."
"Not this stuff, something just for me." I find what I'm looking for and hold it up to show him. "Seems I should be pampered while I still have the chance."
"Want to use some now?"
"Join me? I have a mind to be kept company."
"Think we'll both fit?"
"I guess. I mean, if you don't mind smelling of – " I pause to look at one of the half dozen bottles of bath foam "– Tuberose & Geranium".
"Oh, one of my favourites."
"Come on then. Oh – and the camera stays here, right?"
"You're no fun any more, you know that?" ......................................................................................................
I have no idea what some of this stuff is for. I have enough clothes for triplets, boxes of wipes and lotions (Baby aromatherapy? Really?), a musical crib mobile which plays All The Pretty Horses, which always gives me the creeps somehow, and a monitor which does everything but make dinner and take out the trash. But then, from Kerry of all people, something just for me; a basket full of bath oils and scented candles "For mom". She gives me a real smile "You'll be invisible once this baby's born. I thought maybe you could use a little pampering while you have the chance. You won't have time to lie in the tub later." I'm touched, no, really, I am, and I don't know what to say, but there's more. She waits until everyone else has left the lounge and hands me another package. "For Dad". Then she's gone. I turn the package over in my hands but can't figure out what it is; I'm still wondering when Luka arrives.
"Ready to go?"
"I have another three hours to go."
"No you don't; Kerry's sending you home."
"She is?"
"Told me earlier to pick you up at nine. Where are we going to put all this stuff?"
"Beats me. You have the car outside?"
"Still going to take about six trips."
"Go grab a gurney – we can put it all on there."
"Oh, beautiful and resourceful."
"You better believe it. You think you could snag a wheelchair too? This whole walking thing sucks right now."
......................................................................................................
Outside the cold is like a slap in the face and it's snowing, big, feathery flakes.
"White Christmas then." I say as I struggle with the seat belt.
"Looks that way. When do you want to get a tree?"
"Tree?" My mind goes straight to the little cherry and almond trees at the bottom of the garden.
"Christmas tree."
"We're getting one?"
"Of course we're getting one." When I don't answer he goes on "We're not?"
"I don't know. I hadn't thought about it."
"I have. We should have one."
"Maybe a little one."
"It's a tree – they're supposed to be big. What's the point of a little Christmas tree? "
"We have nothing to put on it."
"We'll get stuff."
"Doesn't seem right."
"What?"
"New stuff."
"No?"
"When I was little it was . . . it was seeing the same stuff coming out of the boxes each year that was part of the . . . "
"Part of the what?"
"Fun." I finish, flatly.
"Must have been new once."
"I wonder if Mom still has it all."
"It's hers. We can make our own history. We should start now."
I should be excited about that but instead I'm sad and sort of scared. I have to make a history when I've spent most of my life trying to pretend mine didn't happen. I can't talk about it right now because he's so obviously caught up in the idea.
"You had dinner?"
"I had dinner with Carter."
"Really?"
"Really."
"He OK?"
"He seemed a little . . . confused."
"What about?"
"You." His voice is tight.
"What?" Jesus, what has the idiot been saying now?
"You talked to him about your . . . plans."
"I mentioned it, yeah." Shit.
"Well . . . " he pauses, taking a left turn, "he mentioned it right back."
"And?"
"I don't think he approves."
"I don't give a rat's ass if he approves."
"Nicely put. He also seems to think that you're trying to prove something."
"I am."
"I don't think we're talking about the same thing."
"Don't I know it."
"I think . . . I think he meant well."
"Sure."
"Don't worry about it."
"Look, I don't think things with him and Jing-Mei –" I don't know why I want to defend him.
"Not my business."
"I know. I just don't want you to – "
"And I don't want him in our bedroom." This could turn into a fight without much effort from either of us.
"He's my friend, Luka."
"He's a friend you used to sleep with; he should tread carefully."
"I'll speak to him."
"No need. I think we . . . understand each other now."
"Why does that not make me feel a whole lot better?"
"Forget about it. He'll get over it. And if he doesn't, well, he doesn't. Not our problem." I can't think what to say to that. He's right, of course he's right. Carter isn't our problem, and yet . . . you know, sometimes I think aphids have the right idea – born pregnant, no need for all this complicated sex stuff. I mean, the sex stuff has its good points, from what I can remember, but there's always fallout, always baggage. He reaches over and covers my hand with his as the traffic light glows red in front of us.
"He'll live."
......................................................................................................
The stuff from the shower covers the dinner table, and it's only as we stand back to take it all in that I remember the package in my bag.
"What's this?"
"For you."
"Me?"
"From Weaver."
"You're kidding."
"Nope."
"What is it?"
"How would I know? Open it."
He stares down at what's in the wrapping paper.
"Well?"
"A camera."
"A what?"
"A digital camera." I pick up the tag which has fallen to the floor. "Luka -I thought you might be needing this. KW."
"Wow." He's very quiet. I know he has no pictures of his kids except for the little black and white snap of Dani and Jasna he carries in his wallet. I meant to ask Ivica if he had any but it felt too weird and I never did. "Does she know . . . " I start.
"I never told her." He looks at me questioningly and I shake my head. "Maybe Carol . . . "he says
"Or maybe it has nothing to do with, well, to do with –"
"I guess not. I should call her, say thank you."
"You'll be seeing her tomorrow." He nods, passes a hand over his eyes. I have to move this on.
"Hey, don't get ideas above your station. She bought me something too."
"I can see that."
"Not this stuff, something just for me." I find what I'm looking for and hold it up to show him. "Seems I should be pampered while I still have the chance."
"Want to use some now?"
"Join me? I have a mind to be kept company."
"Think we'll both fit?"
"I guess. I mean, if you don't mind smelling of – " I pause to look at one of the half dozen bottles of bath foam "– Tuberose & Geranium".
"Oh, one of my favourites."
"Come on then. Oh – and the camera stays here, right?"
"You're no fun any more, you know that?" ......................................................................................................