Bundle of Trouble

I imagined hauling my breast pump into the ladies’ room. Didn’t the office have any place private?

I thought about the lone little package in the freezer. Two measly ounces of breast milk. All the brochures on breastfeeding by working moms recommend having about thirty-two ounces on hand before starting work.

I pulled out my breast pump and thought about calling Mrs. Avery.

I knew I needed to talk to her, but I’d been putting it off. I supposed I wanted to stretch out my fantasy of being a private investigator for as long as I could.

As soon as I connected all the tubes, bottles, and breasts, the phone rang. I disconnected everything with a sigh and picked up the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Mom said.

“How do you know something is wrong?”

“I can tell by the way you said ‘hello.’”

“Mmm.”

“What is it?”

Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. “I have to go back to work on Monday and I can’t help it, but I feel guilty for having to leave Laurie. I wish I’d never gotten involved with this stupid PI thing. I wasted my whole maternity leave running around, instead of being with her.”

“You were with her the entire time.”

“I’m stupid. I should have solved the thing much sooner, and then at least I could have slept.”

“You’re not stupid, honey. Besides, nobody sleeps with a newborn.”

“I don’t even have enough milk stocked up,” I wailed. “I’m a total failure!”

Mom laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded.

“Kate, if you’re a failure, what about the rest of us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Kate, you accomplish more in a day than most of us do in a week. When you tried to launch your business, you were taking a chance. A murderer is behind bars because of you. Don’t feel guilty about having to leave Laurie for a little while each day when you go to the office. She’s going to be fine. Lots of mothers work.”

“But I want to be with her.” Tears slid down my face.

“And you will. Darling, just because you have to go back to the office right now, it doesn’t make it permanent. Jim’s going to find work soon. And you never know. You might be able to find another client. Building a business takes time. It’s like having a baby. You can’t have the baby in a month, even if you are really really good. It takes nine months. Do you understand?”

“I know you’re right, but I can’t help feeling sorry for myself. Am I allowed that?” I asked.

“No. You are not allowed to wallow! You have a beautiful, healthy daughter, a husband who loves you, and at least you have a job to go back to. Some people don’t have any of that, Kate. Feeling sorry for yourself would be selfish and petty, and I know you’re not either of those.”

I wiped the tears from my face. “Moms always know best, huh? I love you.”

“I know you do, and now that you have a daughter of your own, you know how much I love you.”

Laurie let out a wail from the other room. “I gotta go, Mom. The alarm is going off.”

I drove up the now-familiar driveway to Mrs. Avery’s beautiful house. She surprised me by greeting me in the driveway.

When the car stopped moving, Laurie immediately awoke and began to kick and flail about, protesting. I hopped out of the car, unsnapped the car seat straps, and held her in my arms. She was still fussing as I made my way toward Mrs. Avery. One small pink shoe wiggled off, and I sighed as I looked at it on the ground. Mrs. Avery held her arms open to receive Laurie. I handed her over, and she instantly stopped fussing.

“You have a way with her. She was so excited to see you, she kicked her shoe off,” I said, stooping over and picking it up.

Mrs. Avery took the shoe from me and slipped it back onto Laurie’s foot.

“We found your son’s murderer,” I said.

“I know,” she said. “Inspector McNearny called me this morning.”

“He did?” I asked, surprised. Even though I had put off this moment, I was disappointed not to be the one breaking the news to her. “I’m sorry he beat me to the punch. We had a late night last night.”

“Don’t apologize! I have closure. Come inside. I rarely drink, although today I think I’m going to have a small glass of champagne. What would you like?”

“I shouldn’t have any alcohol. I’m breastfeeding,” I added as way of explanation.

“One drink won’t hurt.” Mrs. Avery tsked. “Besides, we need to have something to toast a job well done. Brad would have wanted that.”

She called Marta and requested a bottle of Dom Perignon.

Well, in that case!

As Mrs. Avery poured the champagne, I filled her in on the pertinent details about KelliAnn. We both wept as I told her about Penny.

When we had finished crying, Mrs. Avery pulled out a checkbook.

“You found my son and my granddaughter’s killer. I’ll always be indebted to you. Please accept this.”

She handed me a check for twice the amount due. “Consider it a little bonus for bringing the nasty drug business to my attention. You didn’t really think I could have been involved, right?”

“Only for a moment.”

I drove home with the bonus check burning a hole in my pocket. I couldn’t believe Mrs. Avery had been so generous. It would help pay our mortgage until Jim found a new job.

I waited for Jim to come home, to share the news. I was able to pump out another entire three ounces. Now I had five ounces in the freezer. I was starting to feel proud of myself-only twenty-seven ounces to go to get to the recommended thirty-two-ounce supply. Maybe over the weekend I’d be able to squeeze out a few more ounces, and then at least Jim would be able to give Laurie breast milk the first day I was back at the office.

I looked in my closet, peering desperately at my wardrobe, wondering what I would wear to work on Monday. I tried on a couple of outfits and got even more disheartened. The only things that fit comfortably were my maternity clothes. When was that supposed to change?

This morning, at my six-week appointment, Dr. Greene said I could begin working out again. I knew I needed to schedule gym time and abdominal work, yet I felt so tired all the time. Breastfeeding was taking its toll on me, and I wondered with a pang how long I would be able to do it.

I searched the floor of my closet for my shoes. What a joke. None of those fit either.

Dr. Greene had also said that my bones would go back into place, whatever that meant. Was that really going to happen? Would my size seven Nine West shoes ever fit?

And what would I do in the meantime?

I slipped into the unattractive size eight wide flats I’d been forced to wear during my pregnancy. They fit fine, which served only to make me feel awful, bloated, and unattractive.

Laurie was sound asleep, and I wondered if she would enjoy a trip to the mall with me. I heard the front door open. Within seconds, Jim was in the kitchen picking me up in his arms.

“My God! What’s going on?”

He kissed my face all over. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

“I love you, too,” I said. “What’s going on?” I repeated, then added, “And shhh, you’re going to wake the baby.”

“She can be awake! We’re a family! Go get her, get her, get her,” he said excitedly, running his words together so they sounded like “gethergethergether.”

“I’m not going to wake a sleeping baby,” I said firmly.

Jim laughed. “Come on.”

“No, I’m not,” I said sternly, trying to hold back my laughter.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Jim said, disappointed. “Guess what?” he asked, excited again.

“The interview went well?” I asked hopefully.