Bundle of Trouble

architectural firm where I was an office manager.

Now, more than ever, I wondered how I would be able to return to work. Jim and I both needed to work. We lived in one of the most expensive cities in the United States. But how could I leave my peanut for forty-plus hours a week?

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a homeless guy. My heart stopped. His red hair vaguely resembled Jim’s. His face was covered with a scraggly beard.

I whispered, “Is that George?”

Jim nearly careened off the road, trying to get a good look.

It wasn’t George.

The dirty, decrepit-looking homeless guy wasn’t George. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or not.

Jim called the medical examiner, but was unable to reach anyone. He got Nick Dowling’s voice mail and, at my prodding, left a detailed message about George’s various scars.

The week went by with no return call.

Home seemed different now. Everything was special. Laurie’s first home, her first dining room and living room. Her own bedroom, decorated in pink and mint green. Although I kept her bassinet in my room, so she spent her first sleepy week right beside Jim and me.

Unfortunately, she was sleepy only during the daytime hours and kept Jim and me, well really mostly me, up all night.

I was panicky about everything. Was she getting enough to eat? Why wouldn’t she sleep at night? Was it good for her to sleep all day? Would she scratch her eyes out with the little nails that grew immediately after I filed them? And most of all, was she still breathing?

Mom was over every single day to take care of “her girls.” On the day Jim returned to work, I tried desperately to get a little rest. I was barely awake when Mom arrived around 10 A.M., my arms and back achy from holding Laurie all night.

Mom eyed me up and down. I had on pink flannel pajamas with black French poodles and glow-in-the-dark Eiffel towers. I had worn the same pajamas all week.

“Kate, you look exhausted.”

Tears streamed down my face, landing directly on my fluffy blue slippers. “I know.”

“It’s nothing to cry about,” Mom said, alarmed. “Give me the baby and go get some sleep.”

“It’s not that,” I whimpered.

“What it is then?”

“I love her so much.”

“I know, dear.”

I clutched Laurie. “What if I do something wrong?”

“You’re not going to do anything wrong, honey. You’re going to be a great mom. You are a great mom.”

Mom hugged Laurie and me.

I felt better. The logical part of my mind knew that hormones were responsible for these tears, but that didn’t seem to make it any easier.

“Mom, do you love me as much as I love Laurie?”

“Yes.”

Tears welled again in my eyes. “I never knew.”

“I know.” She stroked my hair. “Go to bed. I’ll watch Laurie.”

I moved to the bedroom feeling a little giddy over the thought of sleep. My head hit the pillow fast, and although I expected to be asleep immediately, I lay awake. I listened to the sounds in the house. I could hear my mother in the kitchen, doing dishes.

“Mom,” I called. “You’re supposed to be watching Laurie!”

“I am watching her.”

“You’re doing dishes,” I called from my room.

“She’s asleep.”

“You have to watch her. Make sure she’s breathing.”

“Of course she’s breathing.”

“I can’t sleep unless I know you’re watching her.”

Mother peeked through the bedroom door. “Okay, Katie, I’ll watch Laurie every minute. Just rest, for God’s sake. You’re turning a little nutty.” She shut the door tightly behind her.

I tried to will myself to sleep. I couldn’t have been more exhausted, and yet sleep eluded me.

The phone rang. I picked it up.

“Mrs. Connolly? This is Nick Dowling from the medical examiner’s office.”

My blood surged to my toes, leaving me light-headed. “Yes?”

“Is Mr. Connolly available?”

“No. He’s at work. Did you get our message? About George’s scars.”

“Yes, ma’am, I sure did. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back sooner. The victim’s family had to be notified. Now I can confirm that the body we recovered was definitely not George Connolly.”

Air rushed back into my lungs. “Thank God!”

Not George! Not George!

“Will someone be able to pick up Mr. Connolly’s bags? We don’t need them any longer and we haven’t been able to reach him.”

Maybe a little excursion was what I needed. Nothing too strenuous, just something to get my mind off milk and diapers.

“I can get them.”

After I hung up with Dowling, I immediately dialed Jim’s work number. I got his voice mail and left a message with the good news. The body was most definitely not George. What a relief. I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my heart. George and I had never been close, and Jim and George’s relationship was tenuous at best, but an untimely death would have been staggering.

I made my way to the living room and peeked in on Mom and Laurie. The baby was still sound asleep in her bassinet. “I’m going to make coffee. Want some?”

Mom barely looked up from her knitting. She was making something out of hideous green yarn. “I thought you were going to get some rest?”

“I can’t sleep. I talked to the medical examiner. The body they recovered was not George.”

Mom’s head jerked up and she peered at me over her reading glasses. “Thank goodness. Jim will be very relieved to hear that.” She lowered her gaze to her knitting, and almost on automatic pilot her hands continued their work.

“What are you knitting?”

“Booties for Laurie.”

Great.

“Green?”

She glanced up at me. “Well, she has so much pink already. Are you allowed to have coffee when you’re breastfeeding?”

“A little. Will you watch Laurie, Mom? I need to shower and get dressed.”

“I am watching Laurie, dear. Are you going somewhere?”

“I’m going to get George’s bags from the medical examiner’s office. They can’t locate him.”

Mom tsked. “What do you suppose his bags were doing on that pier?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I could go for you,” she offered.

“I’d like to get some fresh air.”

“Don’t overdo it. You’re up and around much sooner than I was after I had your brother, Andrew.”