“I know. She’s been like this all morning.”
I scooped Laurie up and did a little bouncy dance with her. She continued to cry. Jim flipped on the vacuum, and after a moment Laurie settled into my chest and snoozed.
Jim and I exchanged glances. “If she keeps this up, we’ll have the cleanest house in the neighborhood,” he said.
I put Laurie down in the bassinet. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the cordless phone flashing. It was ringing, only we couldn’t hear it with the vacuum cleaner on. I flipped off the vacuum. Laurie wailed.
Jim sighed, then leaned over and grabbed the phone. After a short conversation he hung up and said, “Honey, you look beautiful, but can we do dinner instead of lunch? I just got a job interview.”
I spent the rest of the day aimlessly playing with Laurie. Thoughts of calling my boss, Nora, crowded my head. We couldn’t afford to wait for Jim to land a job. Even if this interview went well, an offer would likely be weeks away. And we needed an income.
As for my little PI business, it would have to go on hold. Sure Galigani had been impressed, but when would another client come along?
I breathed Laurie in as tears streamed down my face. “I don’t want to leave you, little one.”
Laurie turned her face into my shoulder. I cuddled her.
Finally, at five to five, I picked up the phone and dialed Nora.
What was the point of putting off the inevitable?
Nora picked up on the first ring.
“Nora, it’s Kate.”
“Kate? When’s the magic day? Tell me it’s soon. We’re drowning here without you!”
I sighed, imagining my desk piled with paperwork from the last six weeks. “My maternity leave is over tomorrow. How’s Monday sound?”
Today was Thursday and I silently thanked God that at least I’d have the weekend.
“Great! We’ll see you at eight A.M.,” she said, hanging up.
I hung up, annoyed. I had wanted to ask her where I was supposed to use the breast pump. But the words hadn’t come out.
I imagined hauling my breast pump into the ladies’ room. Didn’t the office have any place private?
I thought about the lone little package in the freezer. Two measly ounces of breast milk. All the brochures on breastfeeding by working moms recommend having about thirty-two ounces on hand before starting work.
I pulled out my breast pump and thought about calling Mrs. Avery.
I knew I needed to talk to her, but I’d been putting it off. I supposed I wanted to stretch out my fantasy of being a private investigator for as long as I could.
As soon as I connected all the tubes, bottles, and breasts, the phone rang. I disconnected everything with a sigh and picked up the phone.
“What’s wrong?” Mom said.
“How do you know something is wrong?”
“I can tell by the way you said ‘hello.’”
“Mmm.”
“What is it?”
Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. “I have to go back to work on Monday and I can’t help it, but I feel guilty for having to leave Laurie. I wish I’d never gotten involved with this stupid PI thing. I wasted my whole maternity leave running around, instead of being with her.”
“You were with her the entire time.”
“I’m stupid. I should have solved the thing much sooner, and then at least I could have slept.”
“You’re not stupid, honey. Besides, nobody sleeps with a newborn.”
“I don’t even have enough milk stocked up,” I wailed. “I’m a total failure!”
Mom laughed.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded.
“Kate, if you’re a failure, what about the rest of us?”
“What do you mean?”
“Kate, you accomplish more in a day than most of us do in a week. When you tried to launch your business, you were taking a chance. A murderer is behind bars because of you. Don’t feel guilty about having to leave Laurie for a little while each day when you go to the office. She’s going to be fine. Lots of mothers work.”
“But I want to be with her.” Tears slid down my face.
“And you will. Darling, just because you have to go back to the office right now, it doesn’t make it permanent. Jim’s going to find work soon. And you never know. You might be able to find another client. Building a business takes time. It’s like having a baby. You can’t have the baby in a month, even if you are really really good. It takes nine months. Do you understand?”
“I know you’re right, but I can’t help feeling sorry for myself. Am I allowed that?” I asked.
“No. You are not allowed to wallow! You have a beautiful, healthy daughter, a husband who loves you, and at least you have a job to go back to. Some people don’t have any of that, Kate. Feeling sorry for yourself would be selfish and petty, and I know you’re not either of those.”