After Nothing (30 page)

‘Are you going to say something?’

Diane was looking at me expectantly. She’d come out to speak to me just as I was about to cash up, and the till was open. Both my hands were filled with quarters I was about to count.

‘It’s fine.’

The cafe wasn’t overly warm, but even so I could feel a trickle of sweat run down my back and perspiration beading on my forehead.

‘I told Antoine you’d be understanding, but you’re not okay with it, are you?’

‘It’s fine,’ I said, turning back to the till. ‘It makes no difference.’

‘Will you tell Harold?’

‘No.’

‘You don’t think he should know?’

‘Diane, Harold is a hypochondriac. All that will happen is he will ring me ten times a day until I’ve figured out a way to get rid of the HIV-positive kitchen assistant. No one needs that. But thank you for telling me about Antoine. Now, can you let me get on so I can close up and get out of here?’

Diane went back into the kitchen without another word.

I took a moment to compose myself before following her.

‘I’m sorry, Diane.’

‘You don’t seem yourself.’

‘I’m tired, but it’s nothing. I shouldn’t have spoken like that.’

‘How old is that baby now?’

‘Nine months.’

‘Babies are a lot of work. A lot. I remember mine … Do you think you might be doing too much?’

‘I know I am, but Harold is refusing to let me go part time, and I can’t quit without more work lined up. I got to have some money coming in. I just need more time to do everything. Do you know what I mean?’

‘Natalie, that old man does whatever you say. Train up Kelsey and then stop coming into work two days a week.’

‘I don’t trust Kelsey.’

‘She can do it. She’s only irresponsible because you don’t let her do anything.’

‘I don’t trust her, Diane. Whenever she does the end-of-day till, it’s always out.’

‘That happens to you.’

‘Maybe a few coins. I’ve never had it out by as much as her. I’ve definitely never had it out by twenty dollars exactly.’

‘I’m just saying, when you were away that week, she stepped up.’

‘She made mistakes.’

‘You make mistakes.’

‘I know. Wait. What mistakes?’

Diane raised an eyebrow at me.

‘How about the fact that managers are supposed to delegate?’

Joey went from rocking backwards and forwards on his hands and knees to shuffling backwards to all-out crawling in the space of four days. It coincided with him getting a bad cold.

At Julie’s request Kane came over to baby-proof the cupboards and drawers, and spent the whole time implying I was doing everything wrong.

‘Don’t he have any books? He shouldn’t be up there.’

Because I had Joey on the kitchen bench, my body blocking him in from the edge while I pureed cooked carrots and sweet potato for his dinner.

‘Is that all you’re gonna give him for dinner?’

I was feeding Joey a banana-flavoured yogurt because he refused to eat any of the five other foods I’d tried, including his pureed vegetables.

‘Shouldn’t he be in bed by now?’

At that point I was about to undress Joey so I could shower him, and Kane was kneeling in front of the bathroom cabinet, electric drill in one hand, screws for the safety catch in the other.

‘Pretty sure Reesey never had him up this late,’ he added.

I sat Joey down on a bath mat beside Kane and then knelt down beside him. I pulled his sweater off over his head. It got caught around his chin, and I had to gently manipulate it off. It was getting too small. So many of the clothes Reesey had bought him were getting too small.

‘Dad-da,’ said Joey clearly, as he picked up one of the safety catches by Kane’s knee. ‘Dad-da,’ he said again, waving it.

Kane went completely still.

‘He calls everything dad-da,’ I said defensively. ‘Or momma or gaga.’

‘I know,’ said Kane.

‘“Dad-da” was the first sound he ever made.’

‘I know, Nat. I have heard him.’

I pulled Joey onto my knee, so I could take off the rest of his clothes. Kane used the drill, the noise loud and whirring. Joey found it fascinating. He listened hard, and leaned forward to watch.

‘Dad-da,’ he said repeatedly.

I pulled his diaper off and then sat him back on the bath mat so I could place his diaper in the covered bin I kept in the bathroom specifically for that purpose.

‘Thank you,’ said Kane, taking the safety catch Joey had been holding. Kane looked up and frowned at me. ‘His nose is running. Has he got a cold?’

‘Yes,’ I said, tight-lipped, as I turned the shower on.

‘Should he be sitting on the floor with no clothes on? It’s the middle of winter, Nat.’

‘It’s warm in here, and it’s only for a second.’

Needles of cold water hit my hand. I held it still, waiting for the temperature to increase.

‘Dad-dad-dad,’ said Joey, as Kane lay on his stomach to line up the drill for the bottom drawer. Joey shifted onto his knees. The shower water warmed. Kane used his shoulder to block Joey reaching past him as he screwed in the last safety catch. The water got too hot, and I turned it down.

‘What time does he go to bed when he stays at the Drummonds’?’ asked Kane.

I withdrew my hand from beneath the water and then turned the shower off.

‘I need a moment,’ I said.

‘What?’ said Kane, looking up.

‘Can you watch him for a moment? Please. Just give him something to play with, he’ll be happy.’

‘I thought he was having a shower.’

‘Just two minutes, Kane. I honestly haven’t had even two minutes to myself today.’

‘Yeah, okay, whatever,’ said Kane, eyeing Joey like he was a suspicious packet left in the middle of the street.

I made it as far as the front doorstep before the cold stopped me in my tracks. Snow had been forecast that day, but it hadn’t arrived. It felt like it wasn’t far away though. It was too dark to make out any low-lying cloud, but the air was still, and had that dry coldness that just about burns the inside of your nose.

I grabbed my hat and coat from just inside the front door, but paused as I was doing my coat up. Water was running: Kane had turned the shower on. I nearly checked on them, but then I heard Kane’s voice – he sounded calm. I braced myself against the cold and went back outside, walking down the front steps to the small garden that sheltered the apartment from the road. When Joey and I had first moved in, there had been a few blown roses still lingering. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I could make out, in their place, bare thorny stems and a couple of leaves, wizened by the frosts and miraculously still clinging on. I thought back to the evening Reesey and I had wandered the gardens with Julie. For one moment I glimpsed Reesey as she inhaled the scents of the large billowy roses at the other end of the property.

‘Come back,’ I whispered.

I stayed out there for what felt like ages: blowing puffs of cold, my legs nearly frozen through.

The door to the apartment opened, showing Kane silhouetted against the light. Joey was in his arms wrapped in a towel, Kane’s half-turned body shielding him against the cold.

The sound of him calling to me brought me inside.

‘Baby, it’s cold as fuck out there,’ Kane said, closing the door behind me as I came back into the apartment’s warmth. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

‘You showered Joey.’

Kane grunted in response, and Joey leaned toward me as he was handed over.

He smelled of baby and soap, and I kissed his round cheek and ran a hand over the tight damp curls that had finally started to grow on his head.

He grinned at the blue elephants on his towel, speaking in baby talk with a few very definite dad-das thrown in.

‘Thank you,’ I said to Kane.

He shrugged and said he’d go get us a pizza for dinner.

When he came back I was struggling to get Joey to sleep, so we didn't even get the chance to eat together.

Kane left while Joey was still crying. Before he went he kissed me. Like, really kissed me. I almost stopped hearing Joey it was that good of a kiss.

Joey’s crying woke me. I checked my phone. 3:58 am.

I didn’t need to turn on lights. I barely needed to open my eyes to make my way to his room.

From the soft glow from his night-light I saw him sitting at one end of his crib.

‘Hi. It’s all right,’ I said, reaching down for him. I lifted him up and cuddled him against me. He cried harder, and his forehead briefly pressed against my chin. Heat. Not just warmth but a real heat. I pressed the palm of my hand to his forehead, and then switched on his bedroom light. We both blinked at the brightness.

‘Mom-mom-mom-mom.’

His nose was streaming, and he used his fists to rub at his distressed face, spreading mucus and tears further.

‘You’re okay,’ I said, moving across the hall and into the bathroom. The baby thermometer was kept in the top drawer. When I opened it, it caught. I yanked at it twice before remembering the new safety catches.

Joey came close to screaming when I located the thermometer and put it in his ear.

104.

Despite his protests I checked the other ear. 104.

That was high. Fuck. That was really high.

I searched ‘baby’ and ‘fevers’ on my phone. I attempted to make him up a bottle, while holding him, and skimming some pages on the internet.

I dropped the bottle in the sink as I tried to screw the top on with one hand. Milk went everywhere. Joey momentarily stopped crying as he peered at the sink.

Fever reducers stuck out on every page I read. I thought I had some kids’ ibuprofen in the bathroom. The damn safety catches nearly had me swearing. That and the fact the ibuprofen wasn’t there. I went back to the kitchen and emptied three cupboards looking for it. Joey started crying again.

‘Shhh,’ I said, jiggling Joey in my arms. He cried harder.

‘It’s okay; you’re okay,’ I said, giving up on finding the ibuprofen and making up another bottle of formula. When I tried to give it to him he wouldn’t drink it.

I looked around me, and realized I was completely alone, and totally out of my depth. I didn’t know what to do. We were too far from the Drummonds for them to hear him crying, and if I went over there, we’d wake up the whole house.

Diaper bag.

I suddenly remembered I’d put the ibuprofen in his bag at the beginning of the week. Between his cold and the ever-present threat of new teeth, it had just been a precaution in case Julie or Aunt Sarah needed it. I tipped the diaper bag upside down in the middle of the living area. It wasn’t there – which meant it was either in the Drummonds’ house, or at Aunt Sarah’s.

Joey was crying so much he was beside himself, hands waving and hitting at his head. I held him close and rocked him.

For one moment I was lost. I nearly started crying myself, before my own voice said loudly in my head, ‘What the fuck are you doing, Natalie? He’s sick. Ring Julie.’

I rang. Her phone was switched off.

I rang Kane.

He heard Joey crying before I had time to speak.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, an edge of panic to his voice.

‘Joey’s sick.’

‘Does he need a doctor?’

‘I don’t know. His temperature is 104, but the internet says different things. I think I should give him ibuprofen. Can you bring some over?’ Joey wailed more loudly, his face screwed up. ‘Actually, I want him to see a doctor. Can you come get us?’

‘Do you want me to call an ambulance?’

‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Just come get us.’

It wasn’t even five minutes before there was a knock at the back door, and I heard a male voice saying my name. I opened it and cold air rushed in, along with a scattering of snow. It wasn’t Kane standing there, but Reverend Joe. He looked like he’d gotten dressed in a hurry, but his voice was calm, and he greeted me as though it wasn’t four in the morning and Joey wasn’t screaming in my arms.

‘Come here, little man,’ he said, taking Joey out of my arms. He continued to make soothing noises, and Joey’s cry changed to breathless sobs, as though he was trying to tell Reverend Joe what was wrong with him.

‘Kane called you,’ I said, realizing that I should have done the same thing.

‘He did. What’s going on?’

‘He’s got a fever of 104. In both ears. And I don’t have any medicine for him here. I think it’s at your place or Aunt Sarah’s. But you’ve probably got some anyway. And he won’t take a bottle.’

‘Right,’ said Reverend Joe, who’d been watching Joey the whole time. ‘He needs a doctor.’

Just like that. Decision made.

‘The internet says to give him ibuprofen for his fever.’