Bundle of Trouble(14)

“That’s why I love you so much.” I pointed to George’s bags. “Anything interesting?”

“Nope. Clothes and crap. You know, toothbrush, a toilet kit, jeans, T-shirts. Looks like he was living out of these bags, Kate. No wonder the medical examiner asked if he was a transient. I found the cell phone bill. I called the number. No longer in service. What a shock.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “My brother, a fucking bum. My parents are probably spinning in their graves.”

I pressed my head against his chest. “Michelle said he works at El Paraiso.” I pulled back and looked at Jim.

A glimmer of hope flashed on his face. “She knows him?”

“Yup. Says they were together the night Brad was killed.”

Jim moaned and shook his head. “I knew nothing good was going to come from any of this.”





I hardly slept that night. Well, better said, Laurie hardly slept. We were up nursing, rocking, and singing. As soon as daylight started to peek through the window, Laurie conked out. I slipped into bed next to Jim as the alarm went off.

He turned to me. “Are you just getting to bed now?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I’ll take the night shift tonight,” he said.

I nodded off, wondering how he would take the night shift without breasts.





At 9 A.M., after a three-hour nap, Laurie awoke hungry. I nursed her, then rose to change her diaper. Her umbilical stump had come off. I examined her new belly button. Beautiful. My little girl was beautiful.

Images of her at fifteen years old, with her belly button pierced, flashed through my mind. My baby was growing up so fast.

I clutched her to me. “Take your time, will you?”

I laid her on my bed, then ransacked Jim’s closet in search of anything that fit, settling on a blue plaid shirt that hung over my now too-large maternity pants. I stuffed my feet into my favorite pair of black strappy sandals. The shoes were so tight, they cut off the circulation to my toes.

How depressing.

I kicked off the stupid sandals and shoved on a pair of stretched-out Keds. Would my old shoes ever fit again?

Laurie patiently gazed into space. I took advantage of her good mood and sat for a moment to compose my to-do list.





To Do:

1. Lose weight (What? I’m still the same weight after having given birth two weeks ago. Aren’t the pounds supposed to melt right off when you breastfeed?)

2. Call work and let them know about Laurie and plan a return date—yuk! (Send the office an e-mail with photos of Laurie. That way I don’t have to talk to anyone right now about my return date. Don’t even want to think about heading back to Corporate Hell and leaving Laurie.)

3. Find George—El Paraiso—drop off his bags.

4. What happened to Brad???

5. Grocery shop. (Right now would only be able to make Cheerios for dinner!)

6. Laundry. (How does the addition of one six-pound baby create so much laundry?)

7. E-mail Paula—tell her about Michelle Avery.

I found parking relatively close to El Paraiso, with the only hitch being a one-hour maximum on the meter.

Oh, shoot! George’s bags! With all the preparation required to get Laurie out of the house, I had forgotten his bags.

I had become extremely forgetful during my pregnancy, locking myself out of my car three times and even getting into the car or on the bus and not remembering where I was going. I had been hoping I would get my memory back, along with my figure, shortly after giving birth.

Was that another pipe dream?

I adjusted the rearview mirror and spied on Laurie through the Elmo mirror pinned to the backseat. “You’re supposed to help Mommy remember things.”

She kicked her legs in glee, flashing her sporty green booties. They were ridiculously bright, but at least they stayed on her feet. Newborns’ feet are so tiny and slender that socks usually just slip right off.

“Well, we’re parked now. And I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely hungry. Uncle George can pick up his bags later.”

I pushed Laurie’s stroller into the trendy restaurant. Red walls were a backdrop to etchings framed in hardwood. Leather booths were filled by the San Francisco downtown lunchtime crowd. Everyone was dressed in corporate garb. The men in their suits and the women in tight-fitting skirts and impossibly high heels.

I immediately felt out of place, but the one thing I was learning fast was that no one looked at me anymore. Every time I stepped out of the house with Laurie, all eyes were on her.

A hostess with a stud through her nose and another in her eyebrow stared at Laurie, then squinted at me. “Should she even be out?”

I squinted back. “Should you have that thing through your nose?”