Junk Love, page 22
Turning, Pippi Longstocking stared at the floor number display. “This is me.” It was Holly. Her blue eyes locked on Cora; she startled. “Cora! Did you get my voicemail?”
CORA
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Naomi. Cora bolted up to darkness. Blinking, fumbling into the empty air beside her bed, energized by adrenaline or the rare deep sleep, as her foot hit the floor, she remembered: Naomi was out with Holly. Covers off, she felt her way out while her eyes adjusted to the dim light coming around the blackout curtains, and she grabbed her robe from the door hook.
The short hallway was brighter.
“You are the most beautiful thing,” Holly whispered.
Superhero colors: that’s what hit Cora first. The cherry red of Holly’s costume hair and the royal blue of the couch framed the woman who had come through when no one else had, who was now holding the most important person in the universe and giving her a bottle.
The second thing that came to Cora’s sleepy head was how the morning sun had teamed up with the frizz of Holly’s red locks and given her a peculiar halo, turning the two of them into a weird and wonderful Madonna and Child portrait—this Mary lounging without a meek bone in her body. Holly’s feet were propped on one of Cora’s white pillows, now on the coffee table near the heap of blankets trailing to the floor.
With a big smile, Holly said, “Mornin,’ pretty mama. You sleep okay?”
“Good morning.” Her breasts ached, engorged. Naomi looked content. The bottle was almost empty.
“I’m sorry. Is this okay?”
“It’s fine. Thanks for feeding her. I’ll pump.”
“Here.” She scooched over.
Cora grabbed a swaddling cloth from the bassinet railing and sat, taking Naomi. When she kissed her head, it smelled like a ripe love melon, lighting up receptors in her brain of connection, family, and home.
“Imma go pee.” Holly tromped to the hallway while Cora switched Naomi’s milk source.
Cora liked her even more when she wasn’t holding her baby—who looked so perfect. Almost perfect. Tracing the tiny scratch of dried blood on her forehead, she whispered an apology and kissed it better. When Naomi’s sucking slowed, she wasn’t ready to put her in the bassinet, waiting by the white armchair.
“Please tell me you have coffee,” Holly said, wiping her hands on the yellow pajamas.
“There should be a bag in the freezer,” Cora answered as softly as possible. “The coffeemaker’s in the cupboard above the stove.”
“There is a god!” Opening the freezer, she asked, “Can I get you anything?”
“Actually, if you don’t mind, I should drink some water.”
“Of course!”
“Thanks!”
Cupboards thumped. Water ran in the sink. “Your place is adorable.”
“It’s the best I could do with my budget.”
“You did a fantastic job with Nessie last night.” Holly padded to the couch with Cora’s glass, clunking it onto a coaster. “How are you so patient?”
“You mean Vanessa? Thanks.”
“Loch Ness Monster.” Grinning, she turned to the kitchen.
Seeing the back of red-haired Holly in her yellow pajamas was surreal, like looking at a cartoon version of herself. Cora sighed at her sweet bundle and eased up from the couch.
“I sort of wanted to cut her.”
Cora froze. She can’t be serious.
“To see if she has acid for blood—or motor oil. No way that bitch is human.”
Once Naomi was settled in, Cora felt lighter, relieved that Holly wasn’t crazy, and that Naomi had slept through her joke.
“Coffee filters are…?”
“I’ll make it.” Cora joined her in the kitchen.
“Thanks. You remember Courtney?” Taking a seat on the countertop, she said, “She’s emailing me links to the law we need to keep them in line.”
“Please thank her for me.”
“I have a favor. Totally fine if it’s a no. Could I take a quick shower? I’m nasty, and I’m dying to wash my hair.”
“But what about…” The safety plan demanding line-of-sight supervision spied on them from the counter.
“Right. What if we put the bassinet in the bathroom?”
While Holly was in the shower, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Cora could barely hear it over the hum of the double breast pump: znnn-sht, znnn-sht, znnn-sht. She leaned forward in case it was Child Welfare checking on them.
The screen read: Jacob.
Cora sat back, holding the suction cups to her breasts, and tried to relax.
Knock knock knock knock.
It couldn’t be trick-or-treaters yet. Sighing, she pressed her forearm against the plastic cones, picked up the Medela bag, and waddled to the door.
The peephole showed Vanessa’s cat eye glasses.
Oh no. “Hi Vanessa. If you can give me just a minute, I’ll get decent.” Znnn-sht.
“That’s a violation of the safety plan, Ms. Martin. Open the door.” The sucking hurt. Milk dropped into the squatty transparent bottles.
“I’m pumping. I just need a second.”
“If you don’t open this door immediately, I’ll have to assume the worst.”
“One second,” she called, grappling with the bag strap and the suction cups. Znnn-sht.
“Do you want to keep your—?”
Clacking open the deadbolt, Cora pulled the door ajar and faced away, clutching her robe over the pump tips. “My parents don’t fly back until tomorrow morning. Frances said that’s when we’d need to talk again.”
“I’m aware.” She slid past.
Before following her, Cora checked the sporadic drips, turned off the yellow dial, and barely stopped in time to avoid hitting the caseworker, who had braked where the hallway joined the main room.
After her cropped head swiveled left to right to center, it aimed at the bassinet. “Where is your safety service provider?”
“Holly’s in the shower.” Closing one side of the nursing bra and trying not to drop the pump, she wished Vanessa would move so she could get to the kitchen.
“Good thing I dropped in, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry.” She cocked her head, adjusting the second bra cup. “What do you mean?”
Beside them, the bathroom door opened, and Holly appeared, securing a peachy orange bath towel under her armpits with her soggy blonde hair trailing over her shoulders.
“Ness! I thought you were coming tomorrow for the changing of the guard.” Scanning the walls for a clock, Holly said, “My shower wasn’t that long, was it?”
“Long enough.” About-facing in the hallway, she goose-stepped to the bassinet. “Ms. Martin, I have to take your daughter into protective custody.”
“What are you talking about?” Cora followed, frantic, depositing the pump and wobbly milk containers in the kitchen. She circled to face her. “No.”
Vanessa bent toward the bassinet, then straightened. Her eyebrow rose and her mouth opened, but sound came from behind her instead.
“Improvise, Adapt, Overcome.” Standing at attention in the orange towel, Holly had one arm slung through the handle of Naomi’s car seat with her other hand supporting the base. “Bassinet wouldn’t fit.”
Her lips smiled, but her eyes burned as she stared down the caseworker. It was probably good that she was soaked, or she might have burst into angry flames like one of those sad Buddhist monks.
“Can we get you anything?” Holly came dangerously close, almost shoulder checking her with no concern for her precarious towel. Once she transferred the car seat to Cora, she braced her hands on her hips and asked, “Coffee, water, the tears of your enemies?”
Vanessa scoffed.
Because Naomi was sleeping, Cora set her car seat near the couch.
“You haven’t seen those mugs?” Holly marched into the kitchen. “They’re hilarious. My friend has one, a metal one for camping. She’s a social worker, too. Courtney Wakeman. Do you know her?”
“We work in different units,” she said with a judgy raised eyebrow.
“Ah.” Holly opened a cupboard. “Now that you’re here, Ness, I’ll go change. That’s okay, right?” she asked, filling a glass at the sink. “You can be trusted to supervise?”
Beside her, Cora tucked the extra full bottle into the refrigerator.
“You can go.”
“Cool.” She strode to the white armchair and slung her gym bag over her shoulder.
“Cora, can I change in your room?”
“Sure.” Even though that would leave her alone with Vanessa, she made herself smile.
When Holly was down the hall, her phone buzzed on the coffee table—an incoming call: Jacob.
“Holly, could this be urgent? It’s the second time he’s called.”
Trotting back, she clamped her phone to her ear while assessing Vanessa’s face. “Detective?” she smiled. “I’m just playing.” She turned her back to them. “What’s up, handsome?” Ambling into the hallway, she said, “That sounds fun. What time? … One sec. Vanessa, there’s no way we’ll get the green light for these two to be on their own today, right?”
“Correct.”
Holly shook her head and proceeded toward the bedroom. Naomi fussed, so Cora took her out of the car seat, bouncing and pacing.
“Can you tell Grace I’m sorry? I’m helping a friend with her baby today, so I won’t be able to go.” She stopped in the hallway. “Paige isn’t due until April.”
Cora shuffled around the kitchen table to be as far as possible from Vanessa.
“All night, too. You don’t know her.” Holly lowered her voice. “I want to respect her privacy. … Okay. I lo—’ll talk to you later.” She froze. “I’m practicing my Southern drawl. … Wendy is too Southern. … You’re not my accent supervisor. … Okay, bye.”
“Ms. Samuelsson, come back, please.”
She returned to Vanessa but so did a snarl that only kind of tried to hide under her smile.
“When you approached my supervisor with this plan, you indicated you were acquaintances. Does this close friendship you failed to disclose interfere with your ability to be objective?”
“We aren’t that close,” Cora said.
“Cora!” Holly almost sounded offended, and she peeked around the caseworker. “I’m right here.” Then she winked.
“I mean…” Naomi’s diaper smelled foul. When Cora looked up, Vanessa was backed into the living room with Holly’s gym bag between them.
“That’s better.” Holly nodded, giving her a smug, “drop dead” smile and extending an arm toward the couch. “Do you need to take notes?” After a beat with no response, she smiled bigger. “Okay then. I met my friend Cora when she started working at my gynecologist’s office.” She asked Cora, “That was, what, spring?”
“Around finals. Late April. I’m so sorry, but can we relocate so I can change Naomi’s diaper?”
“You can do it there.” Sneering, Vanessa pointed at the pad on the floor.
“Her changing table is in my room.” Since the caseworker just stared, Cora explained, “That isn’t as padded,” while she supported Naomi’s thighs to keep from smooshing poop everywhere.
“So, you prioritized your own comfort over your child’s?”
Holly groaned. “I insisted. Cora was exhausted and deserved to get a decent night’s sleep in her own fricking bed.”
“No need to escalate, Ms. Samuelsson. If the floor was good enough last night—”
“Okay then.” Holly stepped between them. “After Cora took a job at my doctor’s office, I introduced her to some friends in the medical field since that’s what she’s studying. She’s hung out with me and my friends a few times.”
Cora brought Naomi down to the changing pad.
“I started dating a guy and got all wrapped up in that. I consider her a friend.”
Holly’s strong smile hit home. Cora hadn’t had a friend she could count on since Thalia moved away during their junior year of high school.
“Thank you for your transparency.”
“Here to help,” she nodded. “You okay there, Cora?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Okay. I’m gonna change.” The bedroom door thumped shut.
On her knees, Cora changed Naomi while Vanessa stalked in their periphery. The dirty diaper sat in a sealed wad as she fastened the new one over Naomi’s soft little Buddha belly. Once she kissed it, she snapped the monkey onesie closed.
“Those tabs work fine.” The caseworker snaked to the kitchen. “You do have a fan, don’t—never mind.”
Click. The fan hummed. Cora let her eyes close for a moment, breathing before speaking.
“We went to a 7-Eleven after Frances left last night. I’m throwing out the defective ones.”
“That’s evidence!”
Cora flinched. Naomi cried.
“Shh.” She tried to be quick about wiping her hands with a fresh baby wipe.
“You haven’t disposed of them yet, have you? Your dumpsters are on-premises—”
“They’re in my room.” Lifting Naomi to her shoulder, she picked up the wrapped poopy diaper.
“I’ll take those when I leave.”
Please let it be soon.
“You took Naomi out last night?” Vanessa finally moved aside so she could access the kitchen trash.
Nodding, sighing, she tossed it.
“Where was your safety service provider?”
“We went together. Holly wanted to treat me to working diapers so I wouldn’t be triggered by the tape dispenser.”
“Where was the baby?”
Knock knock knock.
“Excuse me.” Cora hesitated, trying to walk through the kitchen past Vanessa.
But the caseworker puffed up in her path. “Where was the baby?”
“Sleeping. In the car. Excuse me, please. There’s someone at the door.”
“You didn’t leave the baby unsupervised in your vehicle?”
“No.”
“So, you violated the plan.”
“What?”
“Your safety service provider left you unsupervised with the child.”
“No! Holly paid for them.” Naomi fussed in her arms. “Excuse me.”
Knock knock knock.
“Cora?”
Aiden.
“Are you expecting someone?”
Cora backtracked through the dining area, but the door opened before she could get through the living room. Aiden had come in, and Vanessa was a step ahead.
“I’m Vanessa Dix—”
He slipped past her and wrapped Cora and Naomi in a hug. “I got here as soon as I could. Are you okay?”
Cora nodded. Her heart pounded backward out of fear into something else. His arm around her was such a blessing. When he kissed Naomi’s head, she wanted to tell him “Thank you” a million times. His eyes didn’t hurt to look into, even though they were serious, diving into hers.
Something sad flickered in them before he smiled.
“I assume you’re the father?”
Holly’s mutter drifted from the hallway: “Where’d I put my coffee?” In gym clothes with her hair in a wet messy bun, she spotted Aiden with his arm around Cora and froze.
Her eyes were like a mirror: Cora was not standing beside a boyfriend but a fiend.
“Your name, please?” Vanessa demanded.
“Aiden Walsh,” he said over his shoulder. He released Cora and offered his hand to Holly. “Thank you for helping last night.”
“Sure thing.” She shook his hand but didn’t really smile.
When he extended his hand to Vanessa, she focused on Holly.
“Ms. Samuelsson, could you describe how the new diapers were purchased last night?”
Beside Cora again, he whispered, “You sure you’re okay?”
She gave him a quick smile, distant and distracted, shifting away.
“Cash?” Holly said.
“You bought them,” Vanessa said.
“Over protest. It didn’t come near to balancing out the shitty part of Cora’s day, but it was one thing I could do.”
When Aiden touched Cora’s arm, it wasn’t comforting anymore. “Be right back.”
“The baby was where?” Her raised hand warned Cora not to speak.
He disappeared into the bathroom.
“In the car with me,” Holly said. She scanned the kitchen and the tables, then turned to the hallway. “I must have left my coffee in the—”
“Ms. Samuelsson.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Who’s your certifier?”
“Debbie Ellsworth.” Her head tilted. “Why?”
Vanessa peered in her Coach bag.
“Why?” She repeated, louder, stepping up.
The caseworker pulled out her phone. “I have concerns with your honesty.”
“My honesty?”
“Your stories don’t make sense.”
“The diaper thing?”
She nodded.
“Cora, do you have any paper?” Holly squinted at the refrigerator. “Got it.” In the kitchen, she yanked off the magnetic pad that read “Faith – Hope – Love.” She plunked down the pad, drew a box, and wrote “7-11.” “Here’s the store.” Next, she drew a cute VW bug profile. “Here’s the car.” Three circles went inside. “Cora. Me. Naomi.” Above the car went a dollar sign. “I gave Cora some cash.” Holly swooped an arced line from the car to the box. “Cora took the money and went in.” The pen reversed course. “Cora came back.” Holly jabbed the VW and slammed the pen down. “Are we clear?”
When Aiden arrived at Cora’s side, she stopped bouncing with Naomi.
“As I said…” Vanessa poised her pickled-beet talon over the phone. “I have concerns with your honesty.”
