“Jazzi fed you, didn’t she?” Daisy asked, conversationally.
From her position at her cat plate with little kitty ears, Pepper meowed. It was one of those impatient I-don’ t-care-I’ d-really-like-a-treat meows. Marjoram stood and circled Daisy’s legs, her tail brushing against her calves.
“So you’re both trying to tell me treats are dessert after breakfast?”
Marjoram joined Pepper as both cats stood at the bottom cupboard where Daisy kept the treat bag.
“You two are so smart you should be able to serve yourselves.” However, when Daisy thought about that she shook her head. “Scratch that idea. You’d have my cupboard empty in no time. All right, what’s it going to be this morning, chicken and cranberry or duck and cranberry?”
Since the felines couldn’t seem to make up their minds, Daisy put a few treats of both in each dish. Then she went to the closet under the stairs for her fleece jacket, picked up the insulated bag with the casseroles, set the security alarm, and headed for Vi’s.
At the garage, Daisy pushed the bell. From the intercom she heard Vi’s “Come on up.” There was a click and the lock opened.
A few minutes later she’d climbed the stairs and entered the apartment. Sitting at the small table, Vi was still in her robe, her hair disheveled, large blue circles under her eyes.
“How about a spoonful of blueberry oatmeal and a scoop of a ham casserole I made for breakfast? You’ll have the casserole for tonight’s supper if you don’t feel like cooking.”
“I’m not hungry, Mom.”
When Daisy gave her daughter a look, Vi capitulated. “All right, just a small spoonful of each.”
Daisy hurried to unpack the casseroles before Vi changed her mind. Suddenly Daisy heard a cry from Vi’s bedroom.
“He didn’t sleep hardly at all last night,” Vi murmured.
“What’s going on?” Daisy asked, concerned.
“I called Willa and she thinks it’s newborn fussiness. We tried to give him a bottle last night and he wouldn’t take it. Besides that, I don’t know if bottle feeding will help. Foster needs his sleep too.”
“You could take turns. Foster could take the feeding before bed so you could go to bed earlier. Then you could take the middle-of-the-night ones. Or something like that.”
Vi was already on her way to pick up Sammy. Daisy followed her and peeked in the bedroom. Vi was smiling down at Sammy on the changing table as she changed his diaper. When she finished, she swaddled him in a receiving blanket and brought him into the living room. Sammy, however, still seemed unhappy as he wiggled and squirmed and wouldn’t settle. Vi sank down on the sofa to feed him.
Daisy sat with Vi for the next half hour, listening when her daughter wanted to talk, quiet when she didn’t. Vi burped Sammy after he finished eating, almost asleep, and then she sighed.
Daisy reached for the baby, always willing to hold and cuddle him. She said to Vi, “I put portions of each casserole in the oven to keep them warm. Go on and eat.”
“Don’t you have to go to the tea garden?”
“I will. I want to make sure you’re okay here. When will Foster be home?”
“Not until after five. I just have to stay awake until then.”
“No, you don’t. I’m going to drive in to the tea garden when I leave here, just to make sure all is going smoothly. But this afternoon, I’ll come over about three. I’ll take care of Sammy while you go to bed for a nap. If you’re still sleeping when Foster gets home, so much the better.”
Already shaking her head, Vi protested, “Sammy will need to be fed.”
“Foster and I will try the bottle again. Did you ever think that your anxiety might be making Sammy upset? It’s not your fault. It’s a new mom thing. But that can happen. He feels your agitation and he’s agitated too.”
“I was feeling better, Mom, really I was. I went for a walk yesterday when Foster was here. And I do love Sammy, but I just feel so down all the time.”
“When Foster gets home, he and I will see if we can coax Sammy to take the bottle. If he won’t, I’ll go shopping for a new type of bottle and nipple. Sometimes that’s the simple solution.”
“Do you know about all these things because you had a bad experience with me or Jazzi?” Vi wanted to know.
“Let’s just call it experience. Babies definitely don’t come with a manual. I remember your pediatrician telling me more than once to try everything I could think of to make life work. Something always does.” Daisy smiled. “That had to do with eating, feeding, discipline, and activities. He was usually right.”
“Is this ever going to get easier?” Vi asked.
“I asked him the same thing, and you know what he said?”
“Do I want to know what he said?” Vi said acerbically.
“Probably not. He told me when you were about four everything would ease up.”
Vi’s eyes widened. “Was that true?”
“Actually, it was—for you and Jazzi. At four you both had minds of your own, but I could reason with you most of the time. By four you were a little more self-sufficient. You have to look at each phase of Sammy’s babyhood as an adventure, something new. You’ll be amazed at what he learns each week. Keep a record of it and you’ll see what progress you’re making too.”
“In becoming a mom?”
“Yes. Your skills will increase day by day. I promise.”
But Vi still looked dejected and sad. If Vi’s moods stayed this dejected much longer, she’d have to make an appointment with her GYN and consider what options were open to her.
Chapter Nine
Daisy’s tea supplier had brought her a new shipment. She was sorting teas and pouring them into their proper tins when Cora Sue tapped her on the shoulder. Daisy jumped, startled.
Cora Sue said, “Someone’s here to see you.
