and gave no signs of throwing in the towel any time soon. “It’s just a bad time for us, what with Peter’s TV pilot. He’s working all the time nowadays. There’s just no way he can take the time off.”
“So,
you
come. You come and bring my babies with you. It’ll be a vacation for you. Daddy and I will take care of them, and you’ll just relax. What could be better?”
“I’ll think about it, Ma. Okay? I’ve really got to go.”
“Okay, darling. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I hung up the phone and sighed. I knew I should visit my grandmother. And it would be lovely to have my motherhelp me with the kids. I’d been pretty disappointed when she’d decided that she couldn’t leave Bubba to come stay with us after Isaac was born. When I’d had Ruby, my mother had taken a leave of absence from her job and showed up in our apartment within hours of the birth. She cooked and cleaned for us for a solid month. It had been bliss and I’d really missed her this time around.
I gave up on my pathetic attempts to remember Al’s number and called Directory Assistance. What is it about motherhood that causes women to get so dense? I used to be one of those organized people who could remember names, numbers, and even the occasional birthday. Now I was the kind of person who answered the door naked. It was as if every contraction had killed off a few hundred thousand brain cells. By the time both babies were out, I was left with the IQ of a ficus.
Al was out of the office when I called, but the receptionist put me through to his cell phone.
“Hey, Detective!” he greeted me.
“Cute. So, anything?”
“Nope. Nothing. One Jane Doe turned up in the past three days, but she’s middle-aged and African-American. Not yours, I take it.”
“Not mine. Mine’s young and white.”
“So you said. Anyway, I told my old sergeant to keep me posted if he hears anything. What else can I do for you?”
“Nothing right now, Al, but I might be calling you soon.”
“I’ll be expecting it.”
At that moment I pulled into the intersection of Beverly Boulevard and Santa Monica. Home was to the right, but I continued straight and turned onto Melrose. I had an hour before I had to pick up Ruby. Just enough time to check outYossi’s apartment. Maybe I’d luck out and find Fraydle there.
I cruised down Melrose Avenue and started looking for a parking space as soon as I saw Anat and Yossi’s building. After a frustrating few minutes, I pulled into the parking lot of a Baby Gap. I slipped on Isaac’s Baby Bjorn and, after scraping off some mysterious yellow gunk that had managed to adhere itself to the front, strapped him into it facing outward. He immediately began fussing, so I slipped my pinky into his mouth. Sucking vigorously, he quieted down. I walked briskly by the sign informing me that cars belonging to those other than Gap customers would be promptly towed. I was about to head down Melrose Avenue when I heard a terrifying trumpeting sound.
“Isaac! Are you kidding?” I pulled my smelly son out of his Baby Bjorn and held him at arm’s length. The little wretch had managed to burst through his diaper yet again. I looked back at the car. I’d remembered Barney tapes. I’d remembered diapers. I’d remembered wipes. I’d even brought the Baby Bjorn. But I’d forgotten a spare outfit. Once again, my place in the pantheon of bad mothers was assured.
Still holding Isaac out in front of me, I hustled into the Baby Gap and was immediately greeted by a smiling Gen-Xer. I responded to her “Hi! How are you?” with a wave of my malodorous child. She pointed to someone whose job actually consisted of helping people and not just welcoming them. I balanced Isaac precariously on my hip, trying to touch as little of his body as possible, reached into my purse, and tossed my credit card at the salesclerk.
“What can I get for you?” she asked.
“Something clean,” I said.
She directed me to a bathroom where I
“So,
you
come. You come and bring my babies with you. It’ll be a vacation for you. Daddy and I will take care of them, and you’ll just relax. What could be better?”
“I’ll think about it, Ma. Okay? I’ve really got to go.”
“Okay, darling. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I hung up the phone and sighed. I knew I should visit my grandmother. And it would be lovely to have my motherhelp me with the kids. I’d been pretty disappointed when she’d decided that she couldn’t leave Bubba to come stay with us after Isaac was born. When I’d had Ruby, my mother had taken a leave of absence from her job and showed up in our apartment within hours of the birth. She cooked and cleaned for us for a solid month. It had been bliss and I’d really missed her this time around.
I gave up on my pathetic attempts to remember Al’s number and called Directory Assistance. What is it about motherhood that causes women to get so dense? I used to be one of those organized people who could remember names, numbers, and even the occasional birthday. Now I was the kind of person who answered the door naked. It was as if every contraction had killed off a few hundred thousand brain cells. By the time both babies were out, I was left with the IQ of a ficus.
Al was out of the office when I called, but the receptionist put me through to his cell phone.
“Hey, Detective!” he greeted me.
“Cute. So, anything?”
“Nope. Nothing. One Jane Doe turned up in the past three days, but she’s middle-aged and African-American. Not yours, I take it.”
“Not mine. Mine’s young and white.”
“So you said. Anyway, I told my old sergeant to keep me posted if he hears anything. What else can I do for you?”
“Nothing right now, Al, but I might be calling you soon.”
“I’ll be expecting it.”
At that moment I pulled into the intersection of Beverly Boulevard and Santa Monica. Home was to the right, but I continued straight and turned onto Melrose. I had an hour before I had to pick up Ruby. Just enough time to check outYossi’s apartment. Maybe I’d luck out and find Fraydle there.
I cruised down Melrose Avenue and started looking for a parking space as soon as I saw Anat and Yossi’s building. After a frustrating few minutes, I pulled into the parking lot of a Baby Gap. I slipped on Isaac’s Baby Bjorn and, after scraping off some mysterious yellow gunk that had managed to adhere itself to the front, strapped him into it facing outward. He immediately began fussing, so I slipped my pinky into his mouth. Sucking vigorously, he quieted down. I walked briskly by the sign informing me that cars belonging to those other than Gap customers would be promptly towed. I was about to head down Melrose Avenue when I heard a terrifying trumpeting sound.
“Isaac! Are you kidding?” I pulled my smelly son out of his Baby Bjorn and held him at arm’s length. The little wretch had managed to burst through his diaper yet again. I looked back at the car. I’d remembered Barney tapes. I’d remembered diapers. I’d remembered wipes. I’d even brought the Baby Bjorn. But I’d forgotten a spare outfit. Once again, my place in the pantheon of bad mothers was assured.
Still holding Isaac out in front of me, I hustled into the Baby Gap and was immediately greeted by a smiling Gen-Xer. I responded to her “Hi! How are you?” with a wave of my malodorous child. She pointed to someone whose job actually consisted of helping people and not just welcoming them. I balanced Isaac precariously on my hip, trying to touch as little of his body as possible, reached into my purse, and tossed my credit card at the salesclerk.
“What can I get for you?” she asked.
“Something clean,” I said.
She directed me to a bathroom where I
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