Out of Grief (14 page)

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Authors: EA Kafkalas

BOOK: Out of Grief
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The elderly woman answered the door, and drew me into a warm embrace before I could utter a word. I kissed her on the cheek and said, “Marta this is my Quinn.”

 

“She is more beautiful then you said.” Marta pulled Quinn into a bear hug. I watched as Quinn’s shocked expression softened.

 

Marta’s hugs had a way of doing that to you. They made you feel loved in a maternal way that I knew Quinn needed right now. “Quinn, the woman trying to suffocate you is Marta,” I said.

 

“Pleased to meet you,” Quinn breathed, when Marta finally let go.

 

“Come in, come in.” She opened the door wider.

 

I watched Quinn’s eyes take in the surroundings, and she smiled. It was the first time since we had left her mother’s earlier. “What is that incredible smell?” Quinn asked, as she picked up an Edgar Alan Poe bobble head, tapping the head to set it wobbling.

 

“Brisket, baked carrots, potato au gratin, and roasted asparagus with garlic,
” Marta said, pointing at her kitchen table, which was overflowing with food. “Sit, sit. Some water or juice to drink?”

 

“Do you cook this way all the time?” Quinn took a place at the table, and smiled at me.

 

“What else do I have to do at my age?”

 

“This is …”

 

“Just what the doctor ordered,” I said sitting down beside her.

 

“Exactly.”

 

“So, Quinn, when is the baby due?” Marta asked as she heaped portions of everything on Quinn’s plate.

 

“Two months.”

 

“And you are here to make an honest woman out of my Nikki?”

 

Quinn looked to me. “I guess. I mean, wasn’t she honest to begin with?”

 

Marta laughed. Her laugh was as magical as she was; it rose out of her belly and filled the room with a rich timbre.

 

“You must take her to see my Caroline,” Marta said, handing me a plate overflowing with food. “She is the best in the city.”

 

“She’s an Ob-Gyn,” I explained. “It’s a good idea. You’ll need one. Right?”

 

“Mmm hmmm,” Quinn managed to say between bites. “This is amazing!”

 

***

 

After we had gorged ourselves, I did the dishes while Marta and Quinn got to know each other.

 

“Forgive me for saying this,” Marta said as she cut the fresh apple pie and heaped a large scoop of ice cream on top. “But your mother is a fool to cast such a gem out. Some people are so obsessed with what other people will think that they lose sight of what is truly important.”

 

I filled the delicate china cups with tea. “Even my mother isn’t fully convinced.”

 

“Your mother will be fine, Nikki. She must have her little drama, and then your father smoothes everything over. It is their way. No?”

 

“I guess.” I took a bite of the pie, and sighed. “Quinn, I have to tell you, if Marta was any younger …”

 

Marta poked me playfully in the shoulder. “You are fresh.”

 

“I don’t know, Marta, I think Nikki might be right. I might run away with you if I could eat like this every day,” Quinn said.

 

“Both of you are fresh.” She chuckled. “You must settle for Sundays. I will expect you for dinner.”

 

“You won’t have to twist my arm.”

 

***

 

“You were right,” Quinn said, lifting my arm to rest her head against my chest. “That was exactly what I needed tonight.”

 

I kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad you like her. I didn’t want to have to break up with her. She’s been the steadiest relationship I’ve had since I moved in to the building.”

 

“You always were a sucker for a good meal,” she said, tickling my side.

 

“I didn’t see you complaining any.”

 

“She told me how you met, you know?”

 

“I’m sure she embellished. She always does.”

 

“You’re always trying to do the right thing. That’s one of the things I love so much about you.”

“I’m no saint, Quinn.”

 

“Wow, I think the baby really liked her cooking too. But now …”

 

“Roll on to your side, and I’ll massage your back.”

 

“That sounds divine. Are you sure you’re not a saint?”

Chapter Thirty-One

Caroline’s office was in a building on Park Avenue. It was old school in the feel, but she was anything but old school in her approach to the field. She was a character like her mother. Caroline chose to wear peasant tops and beat up jeans under her lab coat. Her dark locks were drawn back into a neat pony tail, revealing flawless skin and sky blue eyes.

 

“You must be Quinn,” she said, as she took Quinn’s hand in her own in what appeared to be a firm handshake. “And you, I know.” She kissed me on the cheek and took her seat behind the desk. “So, Quinn, Dr. Peters faxed over your records, and I had a chance to review them. Looks like he was taking good care of you, and I intend to do the same.” She smiled, and set the chart aside. “So, how are you feeling at this point?”

 

“Huge. But okay.”

 

“Well, huge is temporary, and beside the point when you’re gestating life. Okay is very good. I see that Nikki is taking good care of you, and if my mother keeps feeding you, we won’t have to worry about the baby getting enough food.” She laughed. “So let’s do an exam, set you up with some literature on the Lamaze instructors I think are good, and get you on the way. I’ve already written out new scripts for your vitamins, which you can pick up with Nancy on the way out. Do you have any questions at this point?”

 

“Just one.”

 

“Fire away.”

 

Quinn looked at me, and then at her hands for a second before whispering, “Is it normal to be this … horny?”

 

Caroline shot me a look, and said, “Some women do experience a heightened sexual appetite during their pregnancy. That’s nothing to be alarmed about.”

 

“So it’s okay to—”

 

“More than okay. Besides, it’s my understanding that you are in love, and as we all know the beginning is intense. So relax and enjoy.”

 

“Thanks, doctor.”

 

“I do recommend a yoga class. Many of my expecting patients have found that it helps them ease some of the discomfort of the actual birth. That will also be with the paperwork Nancy has for you. So, what do you say? Should we take a look at your baby?” She stood up.

 

I wasn’t sure what to do. But Quinn held out her hand. “I want you there, too.”

 

***

 

We left with an image of the baby, pamphlets and prescriptions in hand. “What did you think of her?”

 

“She’s wonderful. I’ll have to thank Marta. Can we get her something?” She looped her arm through mine as we strolled up Park Avenue to the bus.

 

“Like what?”

 

“You would know better than I would.”

 

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

 

Once we were settled on the bus, we studied the pamphlets. “I’ve never done yoga. Is it hard?”

 

“I love it. It’s not easy, but it’s not hard, exactly. It’s all about learning your body and respecting it. The only person you’re really competing with is yourself. So if the woman next to you is better at something, you’ll probably be better at something else, and you realize that it doesn’t matter. All that matters is you push your body in to the pose as much as you need to. So you don’t want to overdo.”

 

“Will you come with me?”

 

“If you don’t have to be pregnant to get in the class.”

 

“Maybe next time you can carry the baby.”

 

“Next time? Don’t you want to get through this time first?”

 

She chuckled. “Don’t look so petrified.”

 

“So you want more than one?”

 

“Maybe.” She patted her stomach.” We’ll see how we fare with this one, first.” She kissed my cheek. “You can relax now.”

 

I looked into her eyes, which were filled with love, and I knew in that second that I would probably never deny her anything. Swept up in the moment, I kissed her. What was meant to be a chaste kiss quickly turned in to more, as she wrapped her arms around me and deepened the kiss.

 

I remembered where we were, and gently pushed her back. “We should go easy on the P.D.A.,” I said, addressing her pout. “Sorry, I just don’t want anything to happen. I know it’s New York and all, but let’s err on the side of caution.”

 

“You’re the native, so you know best.” She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed. “But I don’t care who knows I love you. And if they don’t like it, they can just suck it.”

 

***

 

I thought the bus would be easier on Quinn then the subway. But the hill on 141
st
Street could be a killer. I saw the two guys get off the bus when we did. In my neighborhood, it was hard to tell who belonged and who didn’t, as it was a pretty good mix of colors. And the current trend now was for men to shave their heads, but I still had a weird feeling about them. I also didn’t like how quiet the neighborhood was at this time of day. Usually there was more movement.

 

The shorter one stopped abruptly in front of us and turned around. “Saw you on the bus together. Dykes.” He spit the word at us.

 

I moved in front of Quinn, so I became a shield for anything that was about to happen. I was hoping that nothing would. “Not really the term we prefer,” I said evenly. “And even if we are, I’m not sure how it concerns you. So why don’t we all keep walking to our destinations, and leave each other alone.”

 

“What you do? Buy some sperm on the internet? Or did you steal her from a real man?”

 

I reached back and took her hand. “Just follow my lead,” I said softly. Then I started to walk in the opposite direction—making sure to keep myself between Quinn and the rednecks.

 

“Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you, bitch.”

 

I took a breath before turning, trying to keep my cool. “Okay, first of all, I’m nobody’s bitch, and second of all, I asked you nicely to back off.”

 

“Or what?” the other one said, getting in my face.

 

I could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. But it was the anger in his eyes that made me want to get away from him before anything could happen to Quinn. “Come on.” I turned back around to walk toward the bodega, thinking if we got inside, they would stop.

 

“Hey!” One of them grabbed me roughly, and I spun around on him, knocking his hand off my shoulder.

 

Before I knew what hit me, he punched me on my left side. Bone slammed into bone, as his fist connected with my ribs causing me to double over. My adrenaline was pumping now, and the only thing I could think about was keeping Quinn out of this, so I pulled myself back up as quickly as I could.

 

“You think you can protect her? You ain’t got a chance.” He punched me again, harder this time. I heard Quinn scream, “Stop it!”

 

Clutching my side, I threw all of my weight against his center, knocking him down before he could lay a hand on her. I must have knocked the wind out of him. Of course, the triumph was short lived; as I stood up, I could see the other one grab Quinn from behind.

 

“Come on, little lady, let me show you what a real man can do,” he whispered in her ear.

 

“Let her go.”

 

“I don’t think so.” He licked the side of Quinn’s face, and she elbowed him in the ribs. As soon as he let go, I punched him in the face, so hard that blood stared spurting out his lip.

 

“You stupid bitch!” He spit blood on to the sidewalk and lunged for Quinn again, but I made sure I was squarely between them. I saw the punch coming, but if I moved he would have hit Quinn, and there was no way I was going to let that happen. All I could do was turn my head, but his fist still connected with my cheek and eye. For a brief minute, things went black, but before I had time to process the pain, I heard the bodega owner come out.

 

“Break it up. Now!” Her voice had a thick Island accent.

 

“Stay out of this, jungle bunny!”

I heard the smack of steel against concrete, and realized the woman was holding a steel baseball bat. “Now, I know ya did not just insult me.”

 

Quinn was grabbing hold of me, trying to pry my hand away from my eye.

 

“I already called the cops.” She moved in front of him. Despite her small stature, the steel baseball bat that she clung to seemed to put the redneck off. She managed to stay in front of us long enough for Quinn to usher me in to her shop. “They’re on their way,” she said, before closing the door and flipping the lock.

 

“Thank you,” I managed to say.

 

“Let’s get some ice on that eye, before it gets too bad. I’m Afua, and you are?”

 

“Quinn and Nikki,” Quinn said.

 

“Wish we met under better circumstances.”

 

“Me too,” I said accepting the bag of frozen plantains she held out.

 

“It’ll work just like ice,” she assured me. “Now, sit down.”

 

I sat on the stool behind the counter and Quinn stood next to me.

 

“You okay, sweetheart?”

 

I wasn’t about to tell her that my ribs hurt like hell. “The important thing is that you are.”

 

“We should get you checked out.”

 

“I don’t need to get checked out.”

 

We could hear sirens in the distance now.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn said, pushing the bag closer to my eye. “This isn’t a negotiation. We are going to have you checked out.”

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