wake up?” he’d asked, and she’d scrunched herself up beside him to help him back to sleep.
With the sickness of exhaustion in her gut, she’d managed to muscle through her day. Getting them all dressed, packing up the bags’Henry’s backpack, the diaper bag, Jessica’s swimsuit and towel for her class. She’d loaded them in the car as Baby Will screamed. Driving, screaming, all day. Now the last pickup, then home again. Her head was pounding, and although she could fight the urge, she knew already that she would make the coffee. There was no chance of getting through the nighttime routine without it, even though it was probably getting into the breast milk and stunting Will’s development. Another rule broken. And yet she had sworn to herself again and again that there would be no mistakes. Not this time. Not with her children.
Sitting in the car now, with the baby crying and her pain growing, she could feel the desperation push to the surface.
“Mommy!” Jessica was pleading. “Make him stop!”
“I’m sorry, sweets. I can’t right now. He has to stay in his seat.”
In a matter of seconds, Jessica began to cry, and Love didn’t blame her. Were she not a mature woman, had she not been socialized over the course of thirty-eight years to ignore every unpleasant human impulse, she would be screaming herself’perhaps even slamming her foot on the accelerator and ramming the car ahead in a fit of insanity.
In the end, it was too much to bear. Riding a wave of rebellion, Love waited for the Lexus in front of her to move forward, then maneuvered her minivan out of the line’
the
line that was dictated by school policy and strictly enforced. Only if a parent had good reason could they park in the lot and walk to pick up their child. There simply wasn’t enough room for all the cars, not to mention the mayhem that would result from the mix of cars and pedestrians in the lot. Love understood the reasons. And like everything else in Hunting Ridge, universal conformity was the very thing that kept the community so pleasant.
Still, the children were crying.
With her eyes fixed on the road, Love ignored the stares from the other mothers as she drove past car upon car, making her way to the front of the school. She pulled into the adjoining parking lot, and weaved through the lanes. There were spots open, but only in the back three rows.
“No way,” Love said out loud. She stepped on the gas, drove to the front row, and pulled into a handicapped spot. It was the worst kind of transgression’clearly illegal, unambiguously defiant. But Love didn’t care.
“Come on, Jessie,” she said, pulling her daughter from her seat. Jessica wiped her eyes, a look of surprise coming across her red face.
What is Mommy doing! 1
Next came Baby Will. Reaching his mother’s hip, he too stopped crying and assessed the situation. With wide, curious eyes, he looked to his mother for an explanation. She was always there to make sense of things.
Stairs, toilet, hair dryer.
But today she was silent, in some other world where he couldn’t reach her.
They started to walk, but Jessica refused to move.
“Carry me,” she said.
Love stopped and looked down at her pink-clad child, little blond ringlets flying every which way and tears still wet on her cheek. How could she refuse? She was carrying Will. She always carried Will, as Jessica was quick to remind her. From the moment he entered this world he’d been attached to Love like a fifth appendage. And when she tried to remove him, he reacted as anyone would to a person severing their own limb’with utter dismay. In his mind, they were one. It was that simple, and it had been but a matter of time before Jessica wanted a piece of the action. On this afternoon, giving in to her daughter’s pleas’and her own guilt’would prove to be the crucial error. But Love didn’t have it in her to reason with a three-year-old.
“Here,” she said, bending down to scoop up her little
With the sickness of exhaustion in her gut, she’d managed to muscle through her day. Getting them all dressed, packing up the bags’Henry’s backpack, the diaper bag, Jessica’s swimsuit and towel for her class. She’d loaded them in the car as Baby Will screamed. Driving, screaming, all day. Now the last pickup, then home again. Her head was pounding, and although she could fight the urge, she knew already that she would make the coffee. There was no chance of getting through the nighttime routine without it, even though it was probably getting into the breast milk and stunting Will’s development. Another rule broken. And yet she had sworn to herself again and again that there would be no mistakes. Not this time. Not with her children.
Sitting in the car now, with the baby crying and her pain growing, she could feel the desperation push to the surface.
“Mommy!” Jessica was pleading. “Make him stop!”
“I’m sorry, sweets. I can’t right now. He has to stay in his seat.”
In a matter of seconds, Jessica began to cry, and Love didn’t blame her. Were she not a mature woman, had she not been socialized over the course of thirty-eight years to ignore every unpleasant human impulse, she would be screaming herself’perhaps even slamming her foot on the accelerator and ramming the car ahead in a fit of insanity.
In the end, it was too much to bear. Riding a wave of rebellion, Love waited for the Lexus in front of her to move forward, then maneuvered her minivan out of the line’
the
line that was dictated by school policy and strictly enforced. Only if a parent had good reason could they park in the lot and walk to pick up their child. There simply wasn’t enough room for all the cars, not to mention the mayhem that would result from the mix of cars and pedestrians in the lot. Love understood the reasons. And like everything else in Hunting Ridge, universal conformity was the very thing that kept the community so pleasant.
Still, the children were crying.
With her eyes fixed on the road, Love ignored the stares from the other mothers as she drove past car upon car, making her way to the front of the school. She pulled into the adjoining parking lot, and weaved through the lanes. There were spots open, but only in the back three rows.
“No way,” Love said out loud. She stepped on the gas, drove to the front row, and pulled into a handicapped spot. It was the worst kind of transgression’clearly illegal, unambiguously defiant. But Love didn’t care.
“Come on, Jessie,” she said, pulling her daughter from her seat. Jessica wiped her eyes, a look of surprise coming across her red face.
What is Mommy doing! 1
Next came Baby Will. Reaching his mother’s hip, he too stopped crying and assessed the situation. With wide, curious eyes, he looked to his mother for an explanation. She was always there to make sense of things.
Stairs, toilet, hair dryer.
But today she was silent, in some other world where he couldn’t reach her.
They started to walk, but Jessica refused to move.
“Carry me,” she said.
Love stopped and looked down at her pink-clad child, little blond ringlets flying every which way and tears still wet on her cheek. How could she refuse? She was carrying Will. She always carried Will, as Jessica was quick to remind her. From the moment he entered this world he’d been attached to Love like a fifth appendage. And when she tried to remove him, he reacted as anyone would to a person severing their own limb’with utter dismay. In his mind, they were one. It was that simple, and it had been but a matter of time before Jessica wanted a piece of the action. On this afternoon, giving in to her daughter’s pleas’and her own guilt’would prove to be the crucial error. But Love didn’t have it in her to reason with a three-year-old.
“Here,” she said, bending down to scoop up her little
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