bathing suits. I am sobbing, my head
on her shoulder. Her arms are wrapped around me, consoling me. Next
to us are the remains of the castle we’d worked so hard on, and in
the background is the tide, rushing in to take even more of our
creation away from us and out to sea.
Could the Steak House be just another sand
castle?
With the next contraction, I felt something
inside me give. A rush of warm liquid flowed down my legs. Ready or
not, my future was here to claim me.
As I had before giving birth to Jessie, I
focused on this moment, after which my life would always be
different. This time around the scene before me was one of moderate
chaos. Jessie was swinging and laughing, giddy from lack of sleep.
Eddie and the two policemen, one a small black man, the other a fat
white man with a thin black mustache, were huddled outside the back
door, talking. The stillness was periodically broken by the
squawking and screeching of the police radios. More stars had
appeared, though not enough to suit me. I shivered and touched my
sopping-wet pants leg. Yuch.
In contrast, the day preceding Jessie’s
birth nearly four years ago had been slow-moving and quiet. Eddie
and I had been sitting in this same backyard reading, the summer
sun hot and wonderful overhead. I had marked my place in Dog
Soldiers , Eddie’s favorite novel of the year, closed it, and
willed myself to know the look and feel of the moment because I had
understood that very soon our lives, Eddie’s and mine would be
transformed forever by the birth of our first child.
This time, three would become five.
“Eddie,” I called.
“One sec,” he said, without looking
over.
Eddie conversed the questions with questions
of his own about police training. The policemen might have assumed
that Eddie was interested in joining the force, but I knew better.
Eddie loved to talk to people from different walks of life-firemen,
construction workers, plumbers, painters, mailmen, lawyers,
doctors, poets, singers-anyone who would answer his questions about
the details of their work, details he somehow remembered and worked
into his political cartoons days, weeks, or even years later.
I gave out a yell. Although I was standing
behind Jessie and the swing set, the contraction gripping me was so
powerful and intense that for a moment I was sure she had somehow
swung all her weight smack into my lower back. Jessie, as far out
in front of me as the swing could take her, turned around and
looked at me, concerned. “Eddie!” I screamed.
He looked over.
“I think we better get to the hospital,” I
said. “Now!”
All three men, two of whom had certainly
been trained for more serious emergencies than this one, stood
stock still and stared at me as if I’d spoken to them in ancient
Greek. After a moment, during which each digested the information I
conveyed, everyone sprang into action.
Jessie skidded to a stop and took my hand.
Eddie rushed to my side, a look of disbelief on his face. The black
policeman offered to radio for an ambulance.
“Thanks, but Eddie can drive me,” I said.
“Can’t you, Eddie?”
Eddie nodded.
“We’ll escort you then,” the white policeman
said. “Which hospital?”
“Emory,” Eddie said. “We have to drop Jessie
at her friends. At Abby’s, right, LuAnn?”
“Right,” I said. “It’s on the way.”
“What should I do now?” Eddie asked. He
sounded mildly frantic.
“Call Abby’s mother and Dr. Powers,” I said.
“And I’ll get my stuff”
Everyone went inside-Eddie, Jessie, the two
policemen, and I. In the bedroom, I changed my pants, underwear,
and socks and packed. Jessie followed me each step of the way, so
closely that I had to move cautiously lest I step on her. Then we
packed her overnight bag, a small pink duffel with pictures of
ballerinas on it.
“Mommy, do you want to take Lily Lee with
you?” Jessie asked in a small voice, holding out her doll to
me.
“That is the sweetest thing you’ve ever
said,
on her shoulder. Her arms are wrapped around me, consoling me. Next
to us are the remains of the castle we’d worked so hard on, and in
the background is the tide, rushing in to take even more of our
creation away from us and out to sea.
Could the Steak House be just another sand
castle?
With the next contraction, I felt something
inside me give. A rush of warm liquid flowed down my legs. Ready or
not, my future was here to claim me.
As I had before giving birth to Jessie, I
focused on this moment, after which my life would always be
different. This time around the scene before me was one of moderate
chaos. Jessie was swinging and laughing, giddy from lack of sleep.
Eddie and the two policemen, one a small black man, the other a fat
white man with a thin black mustache, were huddled outside the back
door, talking. The stillness was periodically broken by the
squawking and screeching of the police radios. More stars had
appeared, though not enough to suit me. I shivered and touched my
sopping-wet pants leg. Yuch.
In contrast, the day preceding Jessie’s
birth nearly four years ago had been slow-moving and quiet. Eddie
and I had been sitting in this same backyard reading, the summer
sun hot and wonderful overhead. I had marked my place in Dog
Soldiers , Eddie’s favorite novel of the year, closed it, and
willed myself to know the look and feel of the moment because I had
understood that very soon our lives, Eddie’s and mine would be
transformed forever by the birth of our first child.
This time, three would become five.
“Eddie,” I called.
“One sec,” he said, without looking
over.
Eddie conversed the questions with questions
of his own about police training. The policemen might have assumed
that Eddie was interested in joining the force, but I knew better.
Eddie loved to talk to people from different walks of life-firemen,
construction workers, plumbers, painters, mailmen, lawyers,
doctors, poets, singers-anyone who would answer his questions about
the details of their work, details he somehow remembered and worked
into his political cartoons days, weeks, or even years later.
I gave out a yell. Although I was standing
behind Jessie and the swing set, the contraction gripping me was so
powerful and intense that for a moment I was sure she had somehow
swung all her weight smack into my lower back. Jessie, as far out
in front of me as the swing could take her, turned around and
looked at me, concerned. “Eddie!” I screamed.
He looked over.
“I think we better get to the hospital,” I
said. “Now!”
All three men, two of whom had certainly
been trained for more serious emergencies than this one, stood
stock still and stared at me as if I’d spoken to them in ancient
Greek. After a moment, during which each digested the information I
conveyed, everyone sprang into action.
Jessie skidded to a stop and took my hand.
Eddie rushed to my side, a look of disbelief on his face. The black
policeman offered to radio for an ambulance.
“Thanks, but Eddie can drive me,” I said.
“Can’t you, Eddie?”
Eddie nodded.
“We’ll escort you then,” the white policeman
said. “Which hospital?”
“Emory,” Eddie said. “We have to drop Jessie
at her friends. At Abby’s, right, LuAnn?”
“Right,” I said. “It’s on the way.”
“What should I do now?” Eddie asked. He
sounded mildly frantic.
“Call Abby’s mother and Dr. Powers,” I said.
“And I’ll get my stuff”
Everyone went inside-Eddie, Jessie, the two
policemen, and I. In the bedroom, I changed my pants, underwear,
and socks and packed. Jessie followed me each step of the way, so
closely that I had to move cautiously lest I step on her. Then we
packed her overnight bag, a small pink duffel with pictures of
ballerinas on it.
“Mommy, do you want to take Lily Lee with
you?” Jessie asked in a small voice, holding out her doll to
me.
“That is the sweetest thing you’ve ever
said,
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