As soon as Gerald placed little Jack in her arms, Belinda decided that he was hers. Smaller than his father's head, he fit perfectly into her ten-year-old arms. For a baby he looked pretty good. Cerulean eyes and thin tufts of brown sugar hair inherited from his mother, but a stout nose like Papa. A perfect combination of her parents. Their parents.

"Such a beautiful child. I'll take care good of him," she declared.

"Nice girl," Matilda smiled. "I'm sure you will."

"He will be loved in this house," Gerald added. "Girls, make sure you watch over your baby brother. He's a treasure."

"Of course, Papa," Belinda agreed. Anne remained silent, not daring to look at her father in the eye, fearful he would see the bad thoughts that lay underneath.

000

For being so cute, Jack proved to be a troublesome child. He went through multiple diapers per day, cried constantly for feeding, then fussed through nursing, resumed his wailing in his cradle, then spit up on the unlucky soul who picked him up.

"Stupid baby," Anne grumbled while scrubbing yet another diaper on the roof. "More trouble than he's worth these past months."

"Now Anne," Belinda chided, though her true thoughts weren't very different. "Jack is our brother. Our only brother. We must be thankful."

"Why can't we just send him back to wherever he came from?"
"That's not how babies work."

"Just leave him on the street. Give him a knapsack, some food, and a couple pennies. Problem solved."
"Anne!" Belinda swatted at her with a wet diaper. Anne instinctively splashed the murky water back at her sister.

"Girls!" Matilda appeared, resting a surprisingly calm Jack on her shoulder. Only a day after giving birth, she went back to work, keeping house and washing the clothes of wealthier women. "Is the laundry done?"
"It will be, Mama." Belinda elbowed her sister. "Get scrubbing."
"Alright. I have to have make a delivery to Pulitzer. Take Jack." Matilda eased the baby into Belinda's arms. Annoyed, Anne wrinkled her nose.

"He's got a house full of servants. Can't he or his fancy wife do their own laundry?"
"The housekeeper needs someone to do the sheets and linens. The maids are busy with other work. Besides, the mistress just had a baby."

"A baby?"
"Yes. The fourth one." Matilda unpinned Mrs. Pulitzer's sheets hanging securely on a clothesline and folded them into neat squares that went into a tall basket. "A baby girl. The father's naming her Katherine."

"That's a pretty name," Belinda remarked. Anne shook her head.

"I can think of a million better names."

"Well it's not your baby," Matilda replied, repressing a giggle. "So don't criticize other people's choice of name. Perhaps it means something to the family."

"I still think I could do better."

"You'll have your chance to name your own babies someday."

"I'm not having babies."
"Why?"
"Belinda says it's gross, messy, and it hurts. Forget it."
"Oh Anne." Matilda snickered before heading downstairs. "You might change your mind someday."

"Never!" the girl proclaimed proudly.

"Ah. I've got to be off, so take care of Jack." With a nod their mother disappeared down the stairs. Belinda cradled her brother while her sister cringed.

"Do you have to hold him like that?"

"That's how you're supposed to hold a baby."

"Another reason I'm not having kids."

"Must you always be so contrary?"

"Must you always be so good?" Anne mimicked. "Why can't you ever get in trouble like I do? You're Mama's perfect angel, all good inside."

Belinda's face burned red. "I am not a perfect angel. I make my mistakes, but unlike you I actually learn from them. So there."

"Of course, St. Belinda. May I pray to you for your special goodness?" Anne bowed in mock reverence. "Oh St. Belinda, bless me!"

"Stop it! That's, why, that's sacrilegious!" The older girl backed up in Christian horror.

"See? Mama's perfect angel."

"Well you're Papa's wild animal. Always getting into mischief. You just create more work."

"I work as hard as you."

"I don't see you taking care of this baby."

"You asked to have him."

"That's because I love him."

"Oh, yes, Mama's good angel, taking care of her precious brother no matter what. So much better than her devil sister, who'd sooner dump him on a corner."

Blood pouring into her scarlet cheeks, Belinda stamped her foot with each word. "I. Am. Not. Mama's. Perfect. Angel. So. Stop. Saying. I. Am."

As soon as "am" flew from her lips Baby Jack jolted up before retching into Belinda's shoulder. The remnants of his previous nursing spewed out, soaking through her white apron.

"Oh Jack! Ugh, disgusting, oh why now?" Ready to puke herself, Belinda shoved Jack into Anne's reluctant arms. "What a mess! Do you know this was my last clean apron? Bad bad baby!"

Anne, on the other hand, guffawed appreciatively. "See Jack? You've mussed the angel." Baby Jack, totally oblivious, grinned at her. A kind of grudging respect from Anne had to be conceded. After all, he ruined Belinda's angelica persona. Now she wouldn't be rushing to tend to his every need. He'd be just like any other baby; a nasty, dirty, irreplaceable treasure for them to look out for.