The Hunger Moon (12 page)

“Charlie goes everywhere with me, don’t you, sweetheart?” Renata said, stroking his hair. “We drove cross-country to move here, so he’s already been in, oh, I don’t know, at least fifteen states.”

“My goodness. We were always told to keep newborns inside and not take them anywhere for months. We were so afraid of germs.”

“Charlie hasn’t even had a cold. It’s the breast milk that gives them all kinds of immunities.”

“I can see how sturdy he is.”

They sat in silence for a moment, studying Charlie’s obvious durability as his cheeks sucked rhythmically and his plump fist beat a little accompaniment against his mother’s chest.

“I will need to find a baby-sitter soon, though,” Renata said. “He’s got to start getting used to other people.”

“And you must be ready for a break. It’s good to get away for an hour or two every once in a while. I remember feeling like I’d been on a vacation, just going to the market without my three youngsters. It gives you some time alone with your thoughts.”

“What thoughts?” Renata laughed. “I haven’t had any of those in quite some time.”

Eleanor sipped her tea. “I’d volunteer to sit with him one afternoon, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t be any good in an emergency. Look how foolish I was with the stove tonight.”

“That could happen to anyone,” Renata said.

Eleanor considered. “You know, I have a college girl who comes to my house on Tuesdays and Fridays to do chores and errands for me. You could leave the baby with us for an hour or two next week. She’s really very capable, and with the two of us, I don’t think this little fellow could get into much mischief.”

“Is that June? I met her going down in the elevator. She seems very nice.”

“She’s wonderful,” Eleanor said. “It’s always hard for me to come up with enough to keep June busy, and I know she would enjoy it. Do come by,” she said, afraid Renata would say no.

“Well,” Renata said slowly, “I could use a haircut. And that’s one thing that’s hard to do with a baby along. The last time I had it cut he slept in his stroller, but I never know at this age how long he’ll nap.”

“Fine. Tuesday or Friday next week will be your salon day. The one thing a woman with a baby must not deprive herself of is a trip to the salon.”

Renata raised her teacup. “To Mommy’s first adventure without you, Charlie. Do you mind?”

Charlie was asleep at the breast, snoring like a tiny combustion engine.

“You’ve been very kind, Renata. But I really must let you two get to bed. June comes on her days from one to three P.M., but she can stay longer if I have more for her to do. You make your appointment and let me know, and we’ll be waiting for you.” Eleanor hesitated a moment. “I hope I didn’t sound too eccentric when you found me in the hall. I don’t think I had woken up properly, and for some reason I had been dreaming I was back at college.”

“You sounded just fine. You should have seen how disoriented I got when I woke up in some of those motel rooms traveling with Charlie. Half the time I didn’t have a clue where I was.”

When she returned to her apartment, it was as cold as the outdoors, but the smoky smell was almost gone. Eleanor locked her windows and door, and turned up the heat. She threw her charred kettle in the garbage, and tossed an extra blanket on the bed. Warm in her pajamas and robe under the covers, Eleanor enjoyed the cold air on her face, and feeling as if she were camping in the mountains, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

W
HEN
M
RS
. M.
BUZZED HER IN
, the older woman had a look of excitement about her, almost bordering on gaiety.

“I have a surprise for you today, June.”

June had never seen her this way, almost girlish.

“We’re having a visitor, and I promised that you would help me entertain him.”

“Him? Are you expecting a gentleman caller, Mrs. MacGregor?”

“You’ll have to wait. They’re not expected for another half hour, so you must stay in suspense while you do the vacuuming.”

As June tidied up the apartment, she noticed that the Christmas lights were on. They glowed against the puddles of melting snow on the deck.

At one-thirty there was a knock on the apartment door. Mrs. MacGregor opened it and admitted Renata and Charlie.

“June, I believe you’ve already met my new neighbors. Renata has an appointment to keep at two, so you and 1 will be in charge of entertaining young Charlie. Are we equal to it?”

“Sure. How are you?” June greeted Renata, then went up to the baby and shook his sock-encased toe.

Charlie stared at her balefully.

“He just woke up from a nap, so he’s a little fuzzy still. I’m
afraid that means he’ll be awake the whole time for you.”

“That’s good news for us, isn’t it, June?”

June had never seen Mrs. MacGregor so animated. Renata and Mrs. M. both seemed to be expecting June to make some move. “Will he let me hold him?” June asked skeptically.

Renata handed Charlie to her, and June was surprised at the baby’s dense weight. He seemed content to examine her face. “How old is Charlie?” she asked.

“Almost five months.”

June had never been around babies much, so she didn’t know if this one was an advanced specimen or not. But she figured that mothers always liked to hear that their offspring were thriving. “He’s big,” she told Renata.

“Isn’t he? We went to the pediatrician yesterday, and found out that he’s already sixteen pounds.”

“Oh, that is big. What was he at birth?” Mrs. MacGregor asked.

“Only seven-two.”

Mrs. M. and Renata talked baby stats for the next five minutes. Surprisingly, Mrs. M. knew the weights and lengths of her three children not only at birth but at several points during their first two years. June had never understood the fascination with these figures, but then it occurred to her that some people might not care how many calories were in a slice of honeydew melon either, one of approximately seven or eight hundred nutritional values she held in storage in her brain.

“Will he be getting hungry?” Mrs. MacGregor asked.

“I don’t think so. I fed him before bringing him over. But just in case, I have a little bit of milk that I expressed.” Renata fished inside the diaper bag for a bottle. “I was thinking about what we talked about—how he’s never been with a baby-sitter yet. And I realized Charlie’s never had to drink from a bottle. Not once. Can you believe that never occurred to me before?”

Mrs. MacGregor nodded sympathetically. “Well, you wouldn’t think of it if you didn’t need him to take a bottle, now, would you?

“I don’t know what I was thinking. He’ll need to have a babysitter when I go back to work. Anyway, I went out and got one of those pumps—I don’t know if you’ve seen them—and expressed some breast milk to give him myself from a bottle.”

“And?”

“He wasn’t crazy about it. I had to kind of pace back and forth while I gave it to him, and he kept looking at me like I was nuts the whole time, didn’t you, Charlie?”

Charlie was sitting on June’s knee, staring at his mother’s face.

“But he did take it. And I did the same thing yesterday, so if he does need a bottle today, he should know what to do with it. I’ll be back soon enough that he probably won’t even get hungry, though.”

Renata showed them the disposable diapers and wipes in the bag, and Mrs. MacGregor marveled at how everything had gotten so much more practical since her day.

“You just run along to your appointment, and we’ll be fine, won’t we, June?”

“Of course we will. I think he likes me.” Charlie had swiveled his head now from his mother to June. After studying her for a minute, he decided to smile.

“Okay. I know he’ll be fine.” Renata didn’t seem to know what to do. She kissed the top of Charlie’s head, and shifted uncertainly

Mrs. MacGregor finally ushered her to the door. “You’ll be late. And I wouldn’t want you to be rushed. Salons are meant to be enjoyed.”

“Thank you, Eleanor. I’ll be back soon. Be good, Charlie.”

Charlie stared at his mother’s departing back and then at the door that closed behind her.

“Well, now,” June said, shifting him around to look at her. “You were a good surprise,” she told him.

“I thought you’d be pleased,” said Mrs. MacGregor. “You’ve watched babies before, haven’t you?”

“Never,” June said.

“Oh.”

They looked at each other and laughed.

“Well,” said Mrs. MacGregor, “I have. Not in a while, of course. Though I don’t expect babies have changed much since I had them. You can be the brawn in this operation and I’ll be the brains.”

“Well, thank you very much.”

Just then Charlie decided to spit up part of his feeding. June dashed to the kitchen for a dishtowel while Mrs. MacGregor dug through the diaper bag for a burp cloth. June wiped the front of the baby and her arm, while Mrs. MacGregor saw to the couch. “I had forgotten about that,” Mrs. M. said.

Charlie looked from June’s face to Mrs. MacGregor’s and his lower lip began to quiver. In a few seconds he tightened his eyes to slits and began to cry.

“What do we do now?” June said, jiggling him.

“Oh, dear. You were such a happy little boy when I saw you last,” Mrs. MacGregor told him.

June paced. Mrs. MacGregor walked beside her, jingling keys and shaking the brightly colored dishcloth. Charlie howled. June shifted him to a new position over her shoulder, and in the process of being moved Charlie released a large burp.

“Well,” they said together.

Charlie grinned.

Mrs. MacGregor held him on the couch while June spread a blanket on the floor and put out some toys Renata had brought over. Then she put him on his back and sat beside him, putting the toys in his hands one by one. He brought each one to his mouth and sucked vigorously for a few seconds before casting it aside. In a few moments he began to cry.

“Try sitting him up,” Mrs. MacGregor suggested. “Maybe he doesn’t like to be on his back.” They experimented with various positions, and with each one Charlie cried louder, his face turning red and large tears squeezing out the corners of his eyes.

“Let me try,” Mrs. MacGregor said. She put the baby over her
shoulder and walked him back and forth across the room, murmuring in a low voice. The cries subsided to whimpers. “June, let’s get that bottle. Could you warm it for me? Heat a pan of hot water on the burner and submerge the bottle in it for a few minutes. Then test the milk on the inside of your wrist. It should just be lukewarm on your skin.”

June brought her the bottle and Mrs. MacGregor eased Charlie onto his back and put the nipple to his lips. He shook his head vigorously back and forth, pursing his mouth. She began to hum, walking him. Charlie quit crying and gazed up at her, his mouth slightly ajar. Mrs. MacGregor gently pushed the nipple between his lips, still humming. Without taking his eyes off her or blinking, Charlie began sucking. In five minutes he had finished the bottle. He let it fall from his mouth and smiled.

“I’m impressed,” June said. “You certainly look experienced.”

“It’s funny how you don’t forget some things. You take him now. My arms aren’t as strong as they used to be.”

Charlie welcomed June back with a smile, and began busily sucking and chewing on his fists. June played with him on the blanket for a while, and, at Mrs. MacGregor’s suggestion, turned him over onto his stomach so he could practice crawling. He lay there squirming and lifting his head up, without going anywhere. When he got frustrated, June picked him up again, and was showing him the Christmas lights when Renata knocked. She had a sleek new haircut, which made her white neck look longer.

Charlie greeted her with enthusiastic razzing sounds when she picked him up. Back in his mother’s arms he looked at June and Mrs. MacGregor, dividing beneficent smiles between them.

“How’d he do?”

“Just fine,” Mrs. MacGregor said firmly. “You should leave him with a baby-sitter at least once a week. It’s not healthy for you never to get away.”

“You’re right. I had completely forgotten what it was like to walk down the street without watching for ruts in the sidewalk that would catch on his stroller, or bending forward every two
minutes to check on his hat. I actually just walked, looking in shop windows, crossing streets against the light, running up stairs. It was incredible. You get so you think the stroller is part of your body. Then, when you take a walk without it, you’re suddenly just yourself again.”

“Nice haircut,” June said. She was thinking that maybe she should cut hers short like Renata’s. It looked so clean and modern. June had kept her hair waist-length since she was fourteen.

“Thanks. That was heaven, too. You were so right, Eleanor. There’s something about having someone else wash your hair that seems the height of luxury.”

“When my children were small, I made sure I had my hair appointment and manicure once a week.”

“Well, I really appreciate you two watching Charlie. I can tell he had a good time because he’s so calm now.” She turned to June. “Do you baby-sit a lot?”

“Not since high school. And not ever babies this young,” June said.

“You seem very comfortable with him.”