Page 25 of Bountiful
I’d given birth toonechild whose father was absent. And there the echo would stop. Nicole would never have four brothers. She wouldn’t evengetone.
Benito:You know, if a yard is what you want, there’s always room at the orchardforyou.
Zara:Shutup.
Benito: :)Thought you might say that. Can’t wait to see you and Nic! We’ll go to the snack bar and introduce her to double chocolate icecream.
Zara:Double chocolate for a one year old? Think again. But you and I can eat it when she’s napping. Latergator!
Benito:In a whilecrocodile.
His green dotdisappeared.
I closed my laptop in my darkened loft. Correction: Benito’s loft. Apparently our family had a thing for apartments over bars. This space was nothing like my shabby little room over the Goat, though. It was fancier, as was the barbeneathit.
My oldest brother Alec had bought a five-acre riverfront property at auction—with a set of prewar buildings on it. But Alec didn’t have enough cash to fix up all the buildings at once. So Benito had invested in a share, securing this apartment space for himself. When he got around to finishing the renovation, the place would be awesome. The building had once been a mill, so it had high ceilings and exposed brick walls. Thick, old wooden beams ridged theceiling.
It was groovy. But itwasn’tmine.
Downstairs was Alec’s bar, The Gin Mill. And across the parking area was the coffee shop I co-owned with Audrey. Alec owned thatbuilding,too.
At least I paid rent on the coffee shop. In Ben’s apartment, I was afreeloader.
I could sit up all night and worry about this, and sometimes did. But tonight I would try to get some sleep. Setting the computer on the coffee table, I crossed the room silently, pausing to poke my head into the tiny bedroom where my daughter slept in her crib. She was on her tummy, her legs tucked up beneath her, diaper butt in the air. Her sweet face was turned away from me but I could picture her round cheek against the sheet, her eyes shut tight, as if sleeping required greatconcentration.
Before I got pregnant, motherhood had not been very high on my to-do list. I hadn’t thought of myself as a very maternal person, I guess. But Nicole had changed me. She’d made me into a parent. Some people said gushy things about their babies—The moment she was placed into my arms I swooned with happiness! My mission in life became complete!That sort of thing had made my eyesroll.Hard.
I loved my daughter fiercely, and I would do anything for her. But the change began in me before I ever saw her face. When I’d felt her kicking for the first time, I’d realized everything was going to be different than I’d planned. My old problems had suddenly seemed small. Old jealousies and slights dried up and blew awaylikedust.
There was a child inside me, and I was all she had. We were going to be a team, and I was never going to fail her.Never.
And I’d kept that promise. She was healthy and always cared for by people who loved her. I’d given up my job managing The Mountain Goat for uncle Otto. I’d opened the coffee shop with Audrey, so that I could have a job that didn’t keep me at work until three in themorning.
One of these days I’d learn to go to sleep before midnight like a normalperson,too.
I tiptoed over to shift the summer-weight blanket onto Nicole’s small back and forced myself to walk away from the crib and out of the room. My love for her burned brightly as I climbed into bed. In five hours or so she’d roll over in her crib and begin to babble until I roused myself to pluck her off the mattress. The two of us would get back into my bed where she’d nurse for a half hour or so, her little starfish hand exploring my face while Idozed.
We were a team of two, and a good one. And I’d do anything for her—even move back to my uncles’ farm. I’d told Benito I wouldn’t, but that was just bluster. If my business didn’t thrive, or if I couldn’t find the right apartment, I’d endure a little too much family togetherness to give my baby girl whatever sheneeded.
There was time, though. She was only fifteen months old and didn’t need much space to run.Notyet.
Living with Otto wouldn’t be easy. He was a difficult man, prone to giving everyone his opinion whether they solicited it or not. When I’d managed The Mountain Goat, at least his advice had been less personal. He’d had strong opinions about how to organize the cash register and which brands of liquor to stock. As the sole manager for three years, I knew far more about running the place thanhedid.
Now on Sundays, when our extended family ate together, I was frequently treated to his thoughts on Nicole’s thumb-sucking habit and feedingschedule.
This from achildlessman.
So I already knew that living under his roof would be a real trial, since every bit of his advice was laced with judgement. “Shame she doesn’t have a daddy,” Ottosometimessaid.
“Good thing she has four uncles and two great-uncles,” my mother always said, chiming in on mybehalf.
One blessing of single motherhood still surprised me—my relationship with my own mother had bloomed. This was the woman who’d spent my entire youth trying to make me more ladylike. We’d fought over the length of my skirts, my curfew, my hair, and mymusic.
But that had all stopped the moment I’d found the nerve to tell her I was pregnant. To my surprise, she hadn’t shed a single tear (except the joyous kind) at my “situation,” as Otto called it. Instead, she’d greeted her first grandchild with nothing butexcitement.
It had floored me. But after a time I’d understood why Mom always had my back. She knew how painful everyone else’s opinions and advice could be, because she’d spent my whole life hearing itherself.
I gotitnow.
