Family Affair (45 page)

"That was almost touching," Addison said.

Chase looked away. It was kind of touching but she turned brash, "Let's get on with the damn story."

Addison smirked and began reading aloud.

Chase sat perfectly still. The moment had come, she knew it in her bones before the clatter of the doors drew everyone's attention. There was an unearthly silence like the world was holding its breath.

The doctor looked at them queerly. He called out, "Chase Banter." He searched their faces.

"Here, I'm right here," she said, hopping up and down. She moved with such force that they all watched as the chair began to rock and sway.

Lacey and Graciela leaped up to stop it, but it was too late. Chase fell flat on her face. A pool of blood began to seep out from where she lay.

Amid shrieks of alarm from everyone in the room, the doctor and Lacey lifted her up. Addison dug in her pack furiously for Kleenex.

"Nurse!" the doctor called out. He peered at Chase. "I don't think your nose is broken, but you'll have quite a knot on your head. I need to make sure you don't have a concussion." He pulled out his penlight and peered at her pupils.

The nurse brought a white towel. The doctor noticed her confusion. He looked at her now horribly embarrassed cohorts. "Perhaps, you should untie her."

Delia and Graciela got right on it. Addison held the towel on Chase's nose until she could do it herself.

"What about the baby?" Chase was finally able to say.

"What?" the doctor said.

"The baby," Chase muttered through the towel.

"Oh, yes, the baby. It's a girl."

Chase leaped around screaming, "It's a girl, its a girl!"

Stella peeked through the door. "Well, aren't you going to come see her?" Then she grimaced. "What happened to your face?"

"She fell. She doesn't have a concussion," the doctor said. He left them and went over to the Hispanic men who looked more amazed about the menagerie of strange women than the child-bearing news he was about to relay.

Stella took Chase's hand and led her to Gitana's room. As they walked down the hall, Chase thought, her mother hadn't held her hand since she was a small child being restrained from dashing into oncoming traffic. She looked over at her mother. "Does she have.. .all her parts?"

Stella smiled. "She's absolutely perfect."

Chase smiled. Then, she felt like she was a human-parts bigot. "I wouldn't love her less if she was missing a thing or two."

"But you're glad about one part she's missing," Stella said.

Chase stiffened as they passed open doors with rooms filled with adoring parents and baby cries.

"Yes, well, fathers want sons whether they admit it or not. Why can't a woman-father-person-parent want a girl?"

Stella pushed her through a door. "You can and don't ever be ashamed of it."

Chase smiled back at her. She turned slowly to see Jacinda stroking Gitana's forehead, cooing softly in Spanish. Gitana was holding the baby.

Chase was holding the towel back up to her nose which was still bleeding, due to her vehement declaration of parentage.

Gitana looked up. "What on earth happened to you?"

Chase didn't answer. She was peering down at Bud.

Stella said, "They tied her to a chair and when the doctor came out she got so excited she fell on her face. She doesn't have a concussion."

"Makes perfect sense. Come here." Gitana held out her hand.

Chase pulled the towel from her nose, touched it, testing for bleeding and satisfied that she wouldn't be a biohazard to her new child, she leaned over and kissed Gitana's forehead, never taking her eyes off the baby.

"Are you okay?" Chase asked, tearing her eyes away from the tiny blue eyes that stared up at her.

"Yes. I can't say I ever want to do that again. I think Bud's going to be an only child. And I don't think Jacinda will ever recover."

"I heard you swore like a sailor."

"You would've been proud." Gitana took Chase's hand and put it on the baby's head.

It was so soft and smooth. It was the most incredible thing Chase had ever felt. She looked at Gitana in amazement. "Wow."

"You want to hold her?"

"Is it all right?"

"Of course." Gitana inched up to a more upright position with Jacinda's help.

Jacinda picked up the baby. "You're a papa now." She stroked the baby's head, cradling Bud's tiny head in her palm. "Hold her like this," she instructed.

Chase took her gently. Bud looked up at her with her seemingly unblinking blue eyes and curled her finger around one of Chase's strands of loose hair. Her hand was no bigger than a quarter. Chase's adoration was promptly broken by the sensation of something wet on her torso. Carefully, she lifted the baby. "She peed on me."

Stella laughed. "Welcome to being a parent."

Chase studied the angelic eyes. "I hope this isn't an indication of our future relationship."

Bud made a cooing noise. Jacinda took her to get cleaned up. She patted Chase's shoulder.

Chase looked down at her starched white shirt especially purchased for the holiday event. It was covered in urine and blood. "I'm not having a good day. I'm having a great day. "

"You can have my shirt and bring me another one later," Gitana said.

"Thanks, sweetie."

Jacinda fetched it. Chase went into the bathroom to change. She peered at her bloody nose and the lump on her forehead. She'd get Graciela and Delia for this and then she remembered Bud. Revenge fantasies were no longer an option. She didn't want Bud to pick up any bad habits. She hoped Bud, whose real name was to be Angelica, wouldn't remember their first meeting. She'd already subscribed to Parenting Magazine and was rapidly memorizing the cognitive states of baby development. Bud, having just entered the world, was most likely still a little out of it. From womb to fresh air had to be a rather sudden shock—like when you hold your breath underwater and then burst forth as your lungs threaten certain mutiny.

Chase cleaned up and came out. She kissed Bud and Gitana on their collective foreheads. "I better go talk to the urchins. Can they come in?" She glanced at Jacinda and her mother and then Gitana.

"Are you up to it?" Stella asked.

"Sure. They're part of the family too."

"Tell Graciela one bad word and I drown her in holy water," Jacinda said, furrowing her brow.

"Yes, ma'am," Chase said, certain this threat would be followed through on instantaneously.

Epilogue

Chase sat with Bud in the nursery. Gitana was napping. She rocked Bud gently in the new oak rocking chair she'd purchased after learning that babies liked to be rocked. At first, she'd rocked Bud a little too aggressively and she'd spit up everywhere and Chase, herself, felt ill. Jacinda gave her a lesson and all was going well now. No one got sick.

She'd had a lot of lessons in the two months since Bud had been born. Bud's face had lost that just-been-squeezed-through-a-small-aperture-and-it-hurt look so that she no longer resembled an alien. Now she was a baby with a lot of dark hair. Chase desperately hoped she wasn't going to grow up to look like Eddie Munster, but she did have Gitana's full lips and a cute turned-up nose. She was fat and soft and Chase adored every inch of her except maybe her intestines which excreted the nastiest stuff she'd ever seen or smelled.

Diaper changing was simply horrid, but she'd learned to do it.

Spitting up was another horror. Chase had gone to Thrift Town and bought an array of T-shirts that had become more or less disposable depending on the amount of stain and the color that Bud had the uncanny ability of producing. It was a good thing babies where so cute and helpless or the experience would be much worse. One had to find one's better nature to get through it. Bud was not a fussy baby at least. Jacinda told her stories of the fussy cantankerous kind who stayed up all night and cried all day. Chase suspected she did this to fortify her. Gitana was the perfect mother and seemed to have implanted notions about what to do in any situation. Chase did a lot of researching and experimenting.

She rocked Bud who, due to Chase's choice of a prenatal moniker, was still being called "Bud" despite the name on her birth certificate. Chase figured Bud could come up with her own name if she didn't like the others when her cognitive abilities had more fully developed. Other cultures did it so why not American lesbians?

Looking down at Bud with her wide blue eyes staring up at her, Chase talked to her frequently. It was if Bud seemed to comprehend things even if the literature on baby brains stated the contrary. Chase didn't care. She told Bud things. So what if she had to tell her the stories again later. Kids liked repetition. They watched the same movies over and over again according to Gitana's cousin, Esmelda, who had four children and seemed to know everything. Chase had not been the best relation, but now she needed this extended family and they embraced her. They didn't behave like she was super odd so she figured she was doing okay.

"Today I am going to tell you the story of my redemption. I know some of it is chemical, but my neurotransmitters fire too quickly so the anti-convulsant drugs keep them in line. You'll like me better this way believe me."

Bud burped and some white gooey stuff came out. Chase wiped it away. "I wish you'd give me a little advance notice, but since you're still at that phase of digestion I'll cut you some slack. Now back to the story."

Chase rocked. Bud burped and together they worked through the story until Bud nodded off. Chase hoped it wasn't because she was a poor storyteller. Writing was one thing, live entertainment was another.

"I know you're not listening, but I hope you appreciate all my hard work in recreating myself into a decent human being."

She put Bud in her crib and went to take a nap with Gitana. Before she fell asleep next to her beloved partner she thanked the powers that be for this amazing chance to raise a future Nobel Prize winner. All right, she'd settle for bachelor's degree and hope for a doctorate.

The End