Chapter 35: Mitch

The first time I saw Jo Beth in the swimming pool at Portillo, I felt the earth shake beneath my feet. I looked around to see if anyone else was experiencing the tremor but quickly determined that they weren’t. It was just me, being overcome by Jo Beth’s beauty. She was like a seal with her wet hair slicked back, able to move so fluidly, as if her limbs were blessed with a super-power. The more I got to know her, the more I realized how spot-on my first impression was. Jo Beth was more than just human; she was divine.

That tremor never went away. Jo Beth was always inadvertently cracking floors beneath her feet. I didn’t mind. The world could open up and swallow us both whole, as long as we fell together. But when she said she was leaving me, it wasn’t the floors that ripped apart; it was the ceiling, sending forth a gush of water like a baptism. I worried it would drown her like the tidal wave that had taken Amanda so many years ago. Luckily, it didn’t work out that way. And yet, it hadn’t worked out at all.

We had her cremated. My beautiful Jo Beth was reduced to ashes and confined to a jar, which now rested on my lap while Elizabeth held Bijou. I stared out the airplane window, looking at the icy white peaks below. What if I opened that window and threw out what was left of Jo Beth, so she became one with the snow and mountains? She’d probably morph back into her original form, like she’d just been through that molecular transporter on Star Trek. Her skis would instantly attach to her feet and she’d be in her personal version of heaven. I clutched at the window and tried to lift it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Are you okay?” asked Elizabeth.

I nodded. “I hate these airplane windows that won’t open.”

She took a moment to answer, shushing the baby instead. “Well, there’s obviously no way we can open windows on an airplane, but I see what you mean. It’s sort of a reminder that we’re trapped.”

I looked at Elizabeth, at how she sat next to me, holding Bijou with such ease and grace. She’d been so young when she had Jo Beth, and now she was pretty much the same age as all those women who wait until later in life to have babies. Plus, Elizabeth’s freckles and her athletic frame made her pass for a millennial. With the family resemblance, everyone would just assume that she’s Bijou’s mother.

“If you want to take a nap, I’m fine taking care of Bijou.” Elizabeth said this in a hush, as if already anticipating my sleepy state.

“No thank you,” I answered. “Every time I close my eyes I dream of Jo Beth.” The dream was always the same and if Jo Beth was trying to make a point, well, message received. She was storming my subconscious, looking for some way to dwell inside, lodged between my sorrow and my self-reproach.

Elizabeth’s breath caught and she took a sharp inhale. I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Sorry,” I said. “It hurts just to her hear name, doesn’t it?”

A limp smile was her only answer.

“Can I hold her for a while?” I asked, gesturing toward Bijou.

“Yeah, of course.” Elizabeth handed me the baby and I took her, careful to support her head. Once she was nestled against my chest, I took in that baby smell of talcum powder and fabric softener. It combined with some intangible drug-like effect on my senses.

“Joseph texted me,” Elizabeth said. “He says that Skylar is fixing up a nursery in the condo, you know, the one Jo Beth bought? So, you can choose where you and Bijou would like to stay. Of course, you’re welcome at our house and I could help with middle of the night feedings and with taking care of her….” Elizabeth’s voice trailed off but I got the impression she wanted to snatch Bijou from my arms. I thought about my own mother; it would probably be months before she’d meet Bijou. Maybe that was for the best. Nothing made sense right now. My life was just a bunch of mismatched puzzles pieces that only fit together in a crooked, forced sort of way.

“I think we’ll stay at Jo Beth’s condo.” I had to look away when Elizabeth’s face fell. “I mean, I’m sure we’ll rely on your help far too much, but I like the idea of Bijou staying in the home that Jo Beth bought.”

Right now, Bijou was only capable of sleeping, sucking on a bottle, and pooping. She certainly would hold no appreciation for her dead mother’s condo. I don’t know why I was compelled to stay there, why I would turn away from the one person who was desperate to care for my newborn baby.

I guess my desperation was just as fierce.