One Week (12 page)

Herbert explains that they’ll just be walking to the house from the train, since they live so close that it seems silly to ask anyone to leave the baby to come pick them up. Jess decides that we can make it, but it’ll be close. “It’s kind of silly, really,” he points out. “We’ll have to turn around and leave ten minutes after we get there.”

“But it’ll just be nice to get out of the roomette for a little while. And see the baby,” I add hastily, glancing at Martha.

Jess shrugs. “Okay then.”

As the train pulls into the Hastings station, I’m practically jumping up and down I’m so excited to be on non-metallic land.

“Did you know that Kool-Aid was invented here?” Martha announces as she and Herbert lead the way to her niece’s house. I try not to laugh. Oddly enough, I had figured that out already, since there are signs everywhere with the creepy Kool-Aid Man on them celebrating Kool-Aid’s 80
th
anniversary. “They have annual Kool-Aid Days every August, and people come from all over to-—”

“Drink Kool-Aid?” Jess inquires. I glance at him and see the amused quirk in the corner of his mouth, but his voice is perfectly polite.

“Among other things,” Herbert says dryly.
“Although they do have a Kool-Aid Drinking contest.”

“Of course,” Jess says.

“They have the world’s largest Kool-Aid stand,” Martha continues. “Last year it served almost 2,400 gallons
of Kool-Aid, all the different flavors. And rides and games
and things. It’s ranked in the Top 100 Best Events in North America.”

I’m actually genuinely sad that I won’t be in Hastings in August. This sounds like the most hilarious thing ever. I guess I could come back—it’s not like I have any plans. And by then I’m sure I’ll be able to figure out how to get from place to place without making such a mess of things.

Martha pauses for breath and Herbert holds her around her waist. She looks up at him, smiling. “I’ve been talking so much I need a rest,” she says.

He pats her arm. “It’s not far now. Martha had hip surgery a few months ago,” he explains.

“Can I carry your bag, so you can help her along a little more easily?” Jess offers. We left all our stuff in the roomette, and I notice suddenly how weird it is to see him walking around without his giant duffel bag across his shoulders. He perches Herbert’s hard shell Samsonite on top of his head. The guy is just incapable of carrying a bag the regular way.

“Bee, where’s your bag?” Jess asks suddenly.

I flush. “I, uh, I left it in the roomette. It’s heavy!” I say defensively. “And I didn’t think I should be carrying around that much cash.”

Jess rolls his eyes. “Right, because I’m sure the crime rate in Hastings, Nebraska is just off the charts. I hope you locked the roomette.”

“I did,” I say airily. But I pat my pocket for the keys just in case.

Martha’s niece’s house is a neat little A-frame. It needs a few coats of paint, but there are geraniums in the window boxes, and the lawn out front is mown to within an inch of its life. Herbert helps Martha up the front steps, and the door opens before they’ve even had a chance to ring the bell.

“You’re here!” A woman who must be Martha’s sister pulls her into a hug. “Thank God. The baby is crying and I have no idea what’s wrong.” She tugs Martha into the house, completely ignoring the rest of us.

“That’s Martha’s sister Sally,” Herbert says
unnecessarily. He leads the way into the house, and Jess sets the Samsonite down near the front door. When we turn the corner into the living room, Sally is looking down anxiously at her daughter, who looks exhausted but calm. She is nursing the baby, and gives us a tired wave.

“Come on in,” she says. “Hi, Uncle Herbert. Hi there,” she calls over to me and Jess.

I wave back, suddenly shy. We’re invading her house when she’s at her most vulnerable, exhausted, and I can only imagine, sore. And she has her boob hanging out.

Jess pushes me forward. “This was your idea,” he hisses.

“Hi,” I say. “I’m Bee, and this is Jess. I’m sorry about invading you like this. We had a little cabin fever, and Martha and Herbert were so nice. We won’t stay long…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she says. “You’ve met my mom, I’m sure.” Sally glances at us and then turns right back to hovering over the baby. “I’m Mandy, and this is Jacob.” She smiles at me. “Come see.”

“Uh, are you sure?” I edge forward, and peer over at little Jacob, who is busily sucking away. I feel like I have never seen anything so small. Her breast looks bigger than his whole body. “Can I…can I touch him?” I ask hesitantly.

“Of course,” Mandy says. “If you wouldn’t mind—” she nods at the bottle of Purell on the side table next to her.

I make sure my hands are cleaner than the rest of me has felt in days. I reach out a finger and stroke his hand, which curls tightly around me. His fingers are long and spidery and seem so delicate, but his grip is incredibly strong. He looks like a cross between a baby bird and Yoda, but somehow he is beautiful. “He’s amazing,” I say honestly.

“Thank you,” Mandy says, stroking Jacob’s cheek. “We think he’s pretty great.”

“But is he eating enough? Do you think you’re producing enough milk?” Sally says. She is literally wringing her hands.

Mandy looks pleadingly at Martha, who jumps in. “Now Sally, you remember what it’s like having a new baby, right? Everything seems terrible, but it’s all going to be okay. Look at him—he’s perfect. What could there be to worry about? Try to just enjoy him.”

“But what if Mandy gets mastitis? She should be supplementing just in case. And what if—”

“You know, I think Jess and Bee here could use a little something to eat. They’ve been eating nothing but train food for the past—how long did you say it was, honey?”

“Three days,” Jess says drily.

“Why don’t you and I go fix them something?” Martha bustles Sally off to the kitchen, and Mandy heaves a sigh of relief.

“I don’t know how she survived my infancy,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know how
either
of us survived.”

Jacob gulps down a few last sips and then pulls away to look around the room. Once Mandy has tucked herself away, Jess comes forward to take his turn admiring.

“His eyes are really clear already,” he says. “It looks like he’s focusing pretty well, too. Hey, buddy.” Jess Purells himself, and then reaches out and tickles the bottom of Jacob’s foot. Jacob kicks out at him and Mandy chuckles.

“He’s ticklish,” she marvels. She leans back against the chair and sighs. “I don’t know why I’m so tired. I mean, apart from the not sleeping. It’s not like I do anything all day. Jacob’s such a lump that I just sit here all day watching trashy television with a baby sleeping on me while my poor husband races around getting me cups of tea, getting my mom cups of tea, getting the place ready for poor Aunt Martha and Uncle Herbert…”

Herbert smiles at her. “Now you know you didn’t need to go to any trouble for us, Mandy. Martha would sleep in the garage if it meant she got to hold that baby.”

“I sure would!” Martha and Sally come back to the living room, with Sally carrying a bowl of corn nuts. “Is
he finished eating yet? Doesn’t he know he has a
responsibility to be passed around to all these strange people he’s never met so they can coo over him?” She carefully scoops Jacob up from Mandy’s chest, and Mandy rolls her neck and stretches.

“Would you two like some corn nuts?” Sally offers.

I reach forward to take a handful—I really like corn nuts, and I never eat them because of the oil—but Jess shakes his head.

“No thanks,” he says. “I ate just before we came.”

I give him a weird look—no he didn’t—but then Sally says something that makes me lose my appetite, too.

“You know, you look awfully familiar to me, Bee.” Sally leans forward and squints. “Doesn’t she, Mandy?”

Mandy shrugs, not looking up from Jacob as he stares at his Aunt Martha. “I don’t know, Mom.”

“She does…”

I exchange a glance with Jess. “I’m sure I just have, uh, one of those faces…” What does that mean, anyway? I take another handful of corn nuts to give myself something to do. “What time is it, Jess?” I ask. “Do we need to be getting back to the train already?”

Jess makes a show of checking his watch. “Oh, pretty soon, I’m afraid.” He stands up and stretches. “Mandy, it was very nice to meet you, and congratulations. Jacob is going to be a great little kid.”

“Thanks for letting us barge in on you like this,” I say, scrambling to my feet. “And yeah, he’s really, really beautiful.” I’m sorry to be leaving so soon—we have a few more minutes, really. And weird as it is, I feel like I’m going to miss Martha and Herbert and Mandy, even though I don’t know them at all. I don’t think I’ll miss Sally so much, though.

“I’ve got it!” Sally snaps her fingers, and my stomach tightens. “It’s that girl on those stupid morning shows you watch, Mandy. The one whose father is looking for her, and he keeps going on the shows and asking if anybody has seen her. You remember, they keep running the picture?”

Mandy looks up at me. “Huh. You do look kind of like her, Bee.” She tilts her head. “A lot like her. What was her name, Mom?”

 “I can’t remember.” Sally furrows her brow. I look at Jess, panicked, and he turns to shake hands with Herbert.

“We’ll be seeing you, then.” He waves goodbye at Martha, who gives a quick wave before turning back to Jacob.

“He was offering a reward though. Wouldn’t it be funny if we could get a college fund started for Jacob when he was only a week old?” I swear to God, if Sally doesn’t stop talking, I’m going to knock her over the head.

“Don’t bother getting up, Mandy,” Jess says, taking my hand and pulling me to the door. “We’ll just let ourselves out.” He closes the door behind us and lets out a breath.

“Well, that was close,” he says. “I didn’t know your dad was doing all the morning shows. Smart move.”

“Come on!” I tug at his hand and drag him down the
steps. “We have to get far, far away. Right now.” I shudder. “That woman could come racing after us at any
second.”

“Bee, I don’t think—”

But I don’t let him finish. I run down the street for the next four blocks, dragging Jess with me. I’ve got this crazy adrenaline, and I’m half terrified, but I’m laughing anyway. But when I finally stop, I notice that Jess isn’t laughing. In fact, he looks kind of gray.

He sways a little bit, and I reach forward to catch him under his arms. “What’s going on?” I ask, worried.

He mumbles something, but I can’t understand him. I pull him over onto the grass and sit him down. He slumps over with his head between his knees, breathing shallowly. His hands are shaking.

“Jess? Jess!” I shake him gently. “Are you all right? What’s happening?”

He lifts his head and blinks at me vaguely a few
times. “I need…” Jess stops, and squints, as if
concentrating really hard on getting the words out. His pupils are dilated even though the sun is bright and glaring.

I resist the urge to shake him again. “Jess?” I say calmly. “Take your time. Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it. You’ll be okay.” And I hope I’m right. Because if he starts getting any worse, I’m calling 911. This is nuts.

He looks at me and his eyes focus slightly.
“Crackers,” he mumbles.

Crackers? He needs crackers? What the hell?

Then I remember. Jess is hypoglycemic. I had no idea that hypoglycemia could get this bad, but then I guess I’m used to people throwing the term around whenever they feel a little bit hungry.

But how the hell am I going to get crackers? I left my bag on the train, and a quick glance at Jess’s butt tells me he left his wallet behind too. I look around at the nearby houses, but without much hope. It’s the middle of the day in the middle of the week, and I doubt many people are home. I will go back to Mandy’s if I have to, but I
really
don’t want to. I grab Jess’s hand and check his pulse. I have no idea what I’m doing, but it feels pretty fast compared with mine. I’d rather not leave him here if I don’t have to, and it doesn’t look like he can manage the walk back there anyway.

I bite my lip and decide to risk knocking on some doors.

I run up and down the block, checking on Jess every third house. He’s still just sitting there. When I talk to him, he looks up at me, confused, but then lapses back into unresponsiveness. And there is
nobody
home.

I could call 911. But if all he needs is a few freaking crackers, that seems ridiculous, and I bet they wouldn’t even come. I squat next to Jess and rub his shoulders, thinking. The red house across the street has a window cracked. Surely the situation warrants a little mild thievery? I could leave a note thanking them.

In the end, I’m too freaking terrified to leave a note. I’m sure that someone’s going to drive by at any minute and call the cops. I shove the window up and hoist myself through it, falling on the floor and hitting my
head. I run to the kitchen and start rummaging through cupboards, where I eventually find quite the selection of crackers. Ritz, Wheat Thins, or Triscuits? Which would be better?

I take all three boxes, and hurl myself back out the window as quickly as I can, thereby trampling these poor people’s rosebush in the process. I present Jess with the options and he looks at them dully.

“Jess? Jess! Which cracker do you want?”

He blinks, trying to focus, but subsides back to his stupor. I start frantically scanning the ingredients to see which of them has more high fructose corn syrup, since this is probably the rare time when that is a good thing to have, before I decide the hell with it and shove a Ritz cracker in his hand.

Jess lifts the cracker to his mouth slowly, and begins nibbling on it. I want him to wolf the thing down he’s freaking me out so much, but I figure he probably should go slowly and he knows that. Either that, or he’s so out of it he can’t even figure out it’s food. I squat next to him as he takes his little bites, twisting my fingers and wishing I had some water to offer him.