Dusty’s eyes flickered. Her lips moved, as if to correct Row, and then she looked away and shifted a Coke can in her lovely hands.
“Let me hold him,” said Row. He took Sam as if he held babies all the time. “Poor little guy,” he said crooningly. “People have really thrown you around today, haven’t they? You don’t know anybody good, do you?”
“I’m good,” said Muffin. “Kit’s good.”
Rowen wrapped the baby tightly in his little towel, fastening down the flailing arms and legs, and then he wrapped his own arms around Sam and rested his long heavy jaw against Sam’s tiny face.
Sam snuffled.
Sam hiccuped.
Sam slept.
They rejoiced in the silence. Sam went from being a nightmare to being his beautiful little self again.
“You have a future in child care, Row,” said Kit.
She saw him so clearly as a father; saw him nestling up next to his own baby boy; saw him coming home early from work to do his share, to cuddle his kid. Then she backed up from the father vision and put herself and Row in a wedding together, and then she backed up from that and gave them a first date.
All this took one second.
She found herself laughing.
“The guys had to take a course last year,” explained Rowen. “It was called ‘Boy, Oh, Boy — Babies!’ We didn’t learn a single thing about babies because no mother was willing to donate a baby for us to learn on. We were supposed to use dolls, but none of the boys would touch them.”
“But you got an A, didn’t you?” said Muffin, happy to see Sam snooze. Just when you decided an older brother was good for nothing except the garbage disposal, he proved he could do something right. She was very fond of Row right now. This was an unusual sensation for both of them. She would tell Mom, who would be thrilled to learn that this particular brother and sister had liked each other for five minutes.
“I flunked,” said Row. “I wouldn’t touch the dolls, either. But the instructor said that eventually a baby always stops crying. So now must be eventually.” He sat on a big leather footstool, resting Sam on his lap, tiny feet against Row’s stomach, head lying on his knees. Sam’s mouth hung open and he breathed steadily and silently. “Fix me a bottle, Muff,” said Row, “would you? Just in case he wakes up. I’ll give him a late-night supper.”
Dusty said, “Here’s what. We just won’t tell anybody anything, okay? Now, don’t call your father, Kit. I’ll just sort of camp here, okay? He won’t come till the weekend, will he? I am sick of motels. I have more baby stuff in the trunk of the car, and this afternoon I stocked up on important things, like shampoo. I’ll be fine, you won’t have to worry about me at all, Kit.”
Muffin pulled her features to the center of her face, lips, nose, eyebrows, and cheeks all meeting in a huge dramatic pout. “Nobody’s worried about you, Dusty. The rest of us are worried about Sam the Baby.”
At that moment, Kit Innes became a full person again. She was not dull and she was not calm, but she possessed some of those assets. She could think, even with the headache slamming against her skull. She needed facts. “Okay, Dusty,” she said. “There’s a lot more to this than you said to Row. You tell us the truth now, and don’t you wiggle around and tell lies. Who exactly are Cinda and Burt? What are they afraid of? What are they running from? Why didn’t they come to the hospital to get Sam? Why did you have to hide out in a motel? Who is Sam’s father? You start talking, Dusty!”
Dusty burst into tears. “I don’t know why you’re being so hostile! I’ve had a terribly, terribly hard year, I was absolutely, utterly heartbroken when your father just walked away from our marriage, and dating again was so hard, and being pregnant was awful, and I had to work for Cinda and Burt, and I had to make so many decisions all by myself, and you just have to trust me. Cinda would be a wonderful mother, but they have problems. They’re personal problems, and we can’t get into them now, because it’s none of your business. But I don’t know why you have to be so mean about it. I don’t know why people are always so mean.”
Dusty did not actually have tears. She just had a tearful expression.
“Dusty, how can you stand there and not want to hold your baby?” said Muffin.
“I’m way too upset,” said Dusty, “and Rowen is doing a wonderful job.”
“Have you ever held Sam?” asked Muffin.
“Of course I’ve held him. That’s not his name, though.”
“What is his name?”
“Well, I didn’t give him one, because Cinda and Burt were going to give him a name. But they — well — things started to go sour — and —” Dusty sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands.
Kit said, “Cinda and Burt were very upset that Muffin and I took pictures of them. They were so upset that Burt actually snatched my camera and put it in his car. What was that about? What were the things going sour?”
Dusty got up. She straightened her skirt and tugged a few locks of hair into different positions. “I don’t think we ever talked about cameras,” said Dusty. “Does anybody else want a Coke?”
“What do Cinda and Burt do for a living?” asked Kit.
“Who cares about that?” said Dusty, heading to the refrigerator. “They’re not going to take the baby after all, so they don’t matter.”
“Dusty!” yelled Kit. “Answer me!”
“They’re in computers. Banking. They make tons of money.”
“They don’t have furniture,” said Muffin. “If you had tons of money, you’d have a table and chairs.”
Dusty closed the fridge door without taking anything out. Maybe there wasn’t anything in there to take out. “You see, Cinda and Burt are not going to leave me alone now! They gave me the money, so they expect to have the baby!”
“Then just give them back the money!” snapped Kit.
“I spent it. I spent a week at the casino and I bought some jewelry!” Dusty’s face lit up remembering these treats.
“Who’s the father?” Kit asked.
Dusty played with her hair.
“Who is he?”
“He isn’t your father. He’s a man I didn’t even like. I thought it would make your father jealous. But Gavin didn’t notice, he was back in California and never even knew, and I stopped going out with the man, because he was nothing compared to Gavin, but then it was too late, I was going to have his baby.”
“You’re dumb,” said Muffin.
“You’re only nine!” snapped Dusty. “You don’t know how hard life is.”
“You shouldn’t go out of your way to make it harder,” said Muffin.
“And where did you go, anyway, when you handed me your baby?” said Kit. “What was so important that you had to drive off like that? Don’t lie to me. It’s perfectly obvious what you did. You had your hair done! You had it colored! And set!”
Did Dad see into her one day, thought Kit, and understand that she possesses no affection or concern? She possesses only her demanding shallow self? Did he say, I have to get out of this? And then did I actually argue with him, saying, Dad, you have to be kind? Kit gagged.
“Why are you pestering me?” sobbed Dusty. “I don’t know why you’re being so cruel! Yes, I had my hair done! I could not go on looking as dreadful as I did. And I was going to find a place for the baby and me to live until I figured out what to do next. I had nowhere to live.”
“Dusty,” said Kit, “my father is paying for your apartment. So why do you need a place? It’s there. And it’s beautiful. Remember, I’ve seen it? Dad gave you the best.”
“Well, actually I subleased the apartment and spent the summer working for Cinda and Burt.”
“Why?”
“Because your father doesn’t trust me with cash, and he drew up an alimony agreement where he pays bills, but I don’t get cash, and that’s not fair, Kit, it’s just not fair, so I rented out the apartment to somebody else, and that’s the money I’m living on, although it is not enough, he has just no
t been fair.”
“So you stayed with Cinda and Burt?”
“Yes. But they — well, I really didn’t like them very much. You see, Cinda and Burt were —”
“Witches,” said Muffin.
“Exactly. So after the baby was born, I stayed in a motel, and put a rental car on my charge, but you can’t take care of a baby in a motel room, and Burt and Cinda were just not collecting cash the way they expected to, and I needed a house and a kitchen. So I drove here, and I thought, Well, I’ll just stay in this house because Gavin’s out of town, and it’s a perfectly fine house with everything in it but food, and I’ll think things through, and I might even call Gavin and get some advice.
“And then you were here, Kit, and it was perfect! It was meant. And my strategy was to find an apartment. And of course there was shopping to do. And since it was you, there was nothing to worry about, and I looked terrible, so I had my hair done.”
Kit could imagine this perfectly. Dusty driving around with her little mental list: orange juice, paper towels, hair salon.
But to anybody else, it was the list of a mental case. When you had a baby, the only thing on the list was the baby. Dusty should have stayed at the house with the baby while Kit ran the errands.
Kit could imagine Dusty wanting to be a decent mother, and remembering it occasionally. But she couldn’t imagine Dusty actually being a decent mother.
Even now, it was Row cuddling the sleeping infant; Dusty was busy with explanations.
Not even explanations, now that Kit paid closer attention.
Blame. Dusty was blaming other people for this position she was in: Dad had divorced her; the unnamed man got her pregnant; Ed cornered her; giving birth was more upsetting than she’d thought and might ruin her looks; and now Kit was giving her a hard time.
Sam slept on. Rowen gently shifted Sam into the very spot where Kit had had him, the cleft in the back of the sofa, where he lay comfortably and safely on his back. The beautiful shelf clock on the enormous chimney mantel chimed nine. Kit was stunned. All this had happened and it was only nine o’clock?
What a lottery it was, having a parent! Here was Sam, beautiful perfect Sam (except when he was crying) (or having diarrhea), and his mother was an unthinking selfish stupid mess. If Dusty kept Sam, poor Sam’s life would be a string of careless sitters and a glamorous mother shopping or going to the casino.
Kit thought of Julie, whose mother was alcoholic and foul-mouthed; Ellie, whose mother was alcoholic but hid it well, and spent her life shut up in the house; David, whose parents hit him; Shelby, whose parents had never seen their champion daughter play field hockey, never shown up at a teacher conference to hear what a wonderful student she was, never came to the play for which Shelby had designed sets.
So many friends had lost the parent lottery.
I don’t want Sam in that lottery, thought Kit. But he’s there already, and I don’t know how to take him out of it.
“Okay,” said Rowen, “so Ed is also getting paid fifty thousand, to deliver the baby. He’s committing a crime, I’m sure of that. Well, no, actually I have no idea whether New Jersey has statutes about baby selling, but it feels like a crime. I say we call the police right now, and —”
“No, no, no!” shouted Dusty. She smacked her hand down on the counter. “You can’t accuse Ed of a crime! He’s my cousin and I said it was all right to do it, and anyway it would get me in trouble, too.”
Muffin wanted them to shut up. Who cared about Dusty’s stupid life? Even though Row had had the baby on his lap, and even though Kit was doing her best, it seemed to Muffin that the baby was not coming first here.
We should make a list, thought Muffin, whose mother never moved without several lists. The baby needs milk and more baby wipes. He needs clothes and another blanket. He needs a mattress with a sheet that has Winnie-the-Poohs on it. He can’t spend his life propped up on people’s shoulders.
“Let’s go home, Row,” she said. “Mom will know what to do. Our old crib is still in the attic. I know because I play dolls in it.”
But nobody heard her.
The doorbell was ringing. Dusty got to the door first, and let in Ed Bing.
Chapter 10
“DON’T BE MAD, EDDIE,” said Dusty. She led her cousin into the family room as if he were royalty. “We can fix things up, don’t you worry.”
“Fix things up?” said Kit. She had topped out on the day’s events. She could not spend another second listening to Dusty’s excuses and nonsense. She pointed to Sam. “You can’t fix that up. He was born. He has a stupid mother. We’re calling the police.”
“No, Kit!” whispered Dusty. “Don’t you understand? I can’t be in that much trouble!”
“Dusty, how much trouble can you be in? You changed your mind about an adoption.”
“Then we don’t need police, do we?” said Ed, trying to smile. “Kit, I feel as if I’ve done everything wrong. I was only trying to help.”
“He was only trying to help,” agreed Dusty.
Ed looked at Rowen much as he had tried to look into the house that afternoon, looking around and sort of behind him, as if trying to figure out just who this boy was, and how much to worry about him. Rowen said, “I’m Muffin’s brother. I’ve been babysitting for Sam here.”
“Sam?” said Ed.
“The baby,” explained Dusty. “They’ve been calling him Sam.”
Everybody turned to look at the baby. He lay under a dish towel with a pattern of forks along the edge. He was quite beautiful, and so small, to fit beneath such a little piece of cloth.
“Look,” said Ed, “Cinda and Burt have arranged this wonderful adoption, and they’re moving out of state to new jobs, and they’ve shipped the furniture on ahead to the new house, and then Dusty backed out! Naturally Cinda and Burt stayed on in their empty house, trying to smooth things over and still get their darling baby boy. You’re right, Muffin, they were out of soap. But that’s because they expected to be a thousand miles away by now. They’re nice people, Muffin, and they don’t usually have pizza every night and they don’t usually run out of soap. They took care of Dusty during her pregnancy, and when she gave birth, Dusty just panicked.” Ed turned to his cousin and smiled at her. “But you feel better now, don’t you? Let’s take the baby to Cinda and Burt. You know why they’re in such a hurry, Dusty. They have to start their new jobs and they just can’t indefinitely wait here for you to calm down.”
It sounded logical to Row. His sister often drove him crazy, and he could imagine her charging perfectly nice people with being witches. He certainly didn’t want poor Sam raised by Dusty. Row spent a minute feeling grateful for his own mother. Mom had her flaws, but an extra-high interest in green vegetables was a better flaw than Dusty’s.
For the first time, Dusty picked her baby up. Rowen was relieved to see that she did this carefully and gently, and kissed his little bald head, and moved him slowly so he wouldn’t wake up. He imagined getting fifty thousand dollars, like Dusty and Ed. He’d always dreamed of having his own race car — not a cheap hobby — which meant Row could spend his fifty thou in one place in one day.
How would Sam feel, one day, when Sam was older, maybe Rowen’s own age, and his adoptive parents explained to him that he had cost a hundred thousand dollars? What if my parents had bought me? thought Rowen.
It was creepy, way beyond the creepy of Halloween witches.
On the other hand, a couple that saved up a hundred thousand in order to have a baby was a couple who really wanted that baby, and certainly Dusty didn’t want him. So maybe this was a good thing.
But Cinda and Burt had not come up with the cash.
“None of this is actually your business, Kit,” said Dusty. She sounded grown-up all of a sudden. She’d been a whining teenager, an incompetent driver, and a thirsty guest, but she had definitely not been an adult.
“Dusty,” said Row, “what was it about Cinda and Burt that made you change your mind? I think that?
??s important. We should discuss that.”
“Rowen,” said Dusty, “even though you are cute and I love your clothes, you are not the mother of this baby and we will have no more discussion. This is a case of everybody misunderstanding everybody else. I got very excited, in fact I got hysterical. You know me, Kit, you know this is my history. I am very fragile, and emotional upsets are very very very difficult for me to handle. I see now that I cannot be a successful mother, because I’m far too fragile. But the very best thing, Kit, is for me to stay here, and in the morning I will telephone your father. I certainly know how angry he will be, but I know I can count on his advice. He is very level-headed.”
And rich, thought Row. Maybe even willing to come up with a check, as big as the one Cinda and Burt were supposed to deliver, just to get you out of his house.
“Kit, be a sweet, sweet girl,” said Dusty, “and get me a baby blanket. There are flannel sheets upstairs in the linen closet. I bought them, so I know they’re there. Get the blue flat sheet.”
“It’s a twin bed sheet for my room,” protested Kit. “It would wrap a dozen babies.”
“Cut it down,” said Dusty. “Or fold it up.”
“Anyway,” said Muffin, with her pouty glare, “it isn’t your sheet anymore, Dusty. This isn’t a hotel, and even if it was a hotel, you couldn’t go around stealing sheets.”
The baby’s legs twitched, moving the tea towel an inch. It was enough to bare his skin and make the rest of them shiver.
“Okay,” said Kit, thinking that blue flannel was nice, actually. A boy color for a little boy who hadn’t had anything yet. There were scissors in the bathroom, which she used for cutting the price tags off new clothes. She could cut the sheet in two, or in four.
“Which room are you going to stay in, Dusty?” she asked. “I read once, maybe it was in Laura Ingalls Wilder, about using a bureau drawer for a baby basket. I’ll get a drawer and line it with the rest of the flannel sheet and that will be the baby’s bed.”