Read Online Girls in Trouble by Caroline Leavitt - Free Book Online Page B

up her hair as if to cool herself, and even though George was a room away, she felt a flare of desire so strong, it nearly toppled her over.
    Eva stopped straightening the living room. Everything could wait. She went to the bedroom and put on a new sheer black nightgown. She stood in front of the mirror, admiring it. One of her friends had told her thatafter she had had her son Reggie, she hadn’t wanted sex for a year. “Hemorrhoids! Sore, leaky breasts!” her friend had joked.
    Eva had a baby now, but she hadn’t given birth. Her hormones were intact, her desire spiking. She brushed her hair and daubed perfume on all her pulse points. She felt as if electric current were shimmering off her. She left her feet bare and padded to the kitchen to find George. The room was empty. Everything was cleared up. “George?” she said.
    She checked the kitchen, and then she saw Anne’s door was ajar. She touched the door with a fingertip, opening it more. Anne was sleeping, her rosy little mouth an O. George was in the rocker, half dozing, too.
    “Hey,” he said with a sleepy smile. He touched her nightgown. “Look at you.”
    She smiled back at him. He hinged up on his elbows and then got up. She trailed two fingers up along his spine, so he turned and draped his arm about her. She didn’t know what it was about him—but all she had to do was look at him and she wanted him. He led her to their room, falling with her onto the bed. She touched the constellation of freckles along his shoulder. He cupped her face in his hands. He pulled off her nightgown, his shirt, his pants, letting them all puddle to the floor. He shut his eyes. He was just about to kiss her when Anne suddenly cried, a newborn mewl that made Eva think of one of Lynne’s cats, and then the moment died. Anne’s cries grew louder, more frantic, and they both bolted up, grabbing their robes, their slippers kicked under the bed, and rushed to tend her.
    “I’ll get the bottle,” George said, and then Eva lifted Anne up and sat in the rocker with her. Anne’s eyes squinched tightly shut, her mouth opened like a drawstring purse. There was that mewl again.
    “Nineteen eighty-seven. A very good year,” George said, coming into the room, presenting the bottle. Latching on, Anne sucked greedily, her small legs kicking against Eva’s.
    “Who’s a hungry girl?” George said.
    Anne fell asleep eating, and Eva gently put her back in the crib.
    Eva went into the bathroom to wash her hands, to splash cool water on her face. She came into the nursery and there, in the rocker, was George, one hand slung on the crib, the other in his lap, his eyes rolling with dreams, sleeping.
    “Come back to bed,” she whispered. His lids fluttered and opened. He stood heavily, and slung one arm about her shoulder and then yawned. She got him into their bed, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was snoring faintly. Eva took George’s hand in hers. I’m so lucky, she thought. She had George, and Anne. She was looking forward to seeing Sara. And then she shut her eyes, and she slept, too.
    For Eva, falling in love with the baby was almost like falling in love with a mate. There was the first stage, that giddy infatuation and euphoria, where everything Anne did was delightful and incredible. Look at how she grabbed Eva’s finger and held on fast! Look how she was trying to lift her head just so she could follow Eva’s every move! It killed Eva with pleasure, it made her want to move around the room, taking extra steps just so she could see the baby’s response. Eva walked out of Anne’s room so the baby could nap, and two seconds later, she went back in. Leaning over the crib, she inhaled Anne’s scent: powder and roses. She touched the silky skin, the bunny toes, and then she crept from the room.
    But then there were the day-to-day adjustments to this new presence, and the mountains of diaper changes and spit-ups didn’t make it any easier. Eva boiled bottles in the