Until November

Chapter 11

Jocelyn

Whatever flipped Ben's switch is turning out to be a major disappointment. Before the birth he wasn't exactly sweet, but I swore I saw a hint of caring. Almost. Maybe I imagined that. But now the rosy filter has been ripped off.

He was noisy last night. Like an ox opening and closing the front door, he got home late. He took his no-hurry Ben Ryan time filling the air mattress. Definitely heard a few f-bombs. Something crashed around one a.m. but I can't be certain.

He didn't offer to help with Noelle at two a.m. or four a.m. or when she was crying around six-thirty and I was dealing with my body still in the aftershock of giving birth and my hormones and exhaustion levels are jacked up.

Leona helps me transition from hospital to home, not Ben. Leona who is coming over this morning to help me organize and put together baby stuff. Ben is going to be out of the house, golfing, no surprise there. My anger burns too bright for Ben and his indifference. It's a short, short fuse that's been lit.

Leona picks up a box and tears it open. "Look at this cute bouncy chair. Did you order all this?"

"I had free time in the hospital." I'm more interested in the food items Mrs. Powell sent with Leona. There's a vanilla poundcake, cut up veggies, and a pasta and cheese bake.

"Ben didn't order any of it?" She lines up the parts to assemble, mumbling, "he's got a few extra dollars to spend on his niece."

"I think the only thing Ben spends money on is himself."

She clears her throat. "I have a surprise for you. Sorry it couldn't be done while you were at the hospital. It's going to be noisy here today because you are getting a nursery!"

"Oooh. Leona, what?" Tears spring to my eyes. It's so nice. So her.

"I want you to keep an open mind." Her smile falters into a grimace. "I hired Andre and Dylan to paint and put together the crib. They have a design that I gave them. Dylan's father hooked them up with the paint and a pattern. Are you okay?"

Tears of gratitude trickle down my cheeks. My nipples leak too, and the smell of breast milk causes my nose to wrinkle. "Thank you for taking care of this. Look at me." Back at the hospital I was in a blissful bubble with nurses and doctors.

Leona notices my shirt. "They make special bras and pads until you're all dried up." She connects the arch in the bouncy chair. "I'll order you some. It's your first-time home doing this. I know it's temporary, but you should be as comfortable as possible." She squeezes my arm. "My sister didn't breast feed. She dried up after three weeks. And if the nursery is too much—"

"No. It's great."

"The pattern isn't all baby. You should be able to use it for your guest room when Ben takes Noelle home."

Noelle cries, which makes me cry. I'm going to have a pond in my front yard if this doesn't stop.

"Come on. You're her mother for a few weeks. No time to sulk. If Ben doesn't show up here in the next ten minutes, I will never forgive him." She looks at the front yard like she's going to be proven wrong, but she isn't. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's not because he's famous, is it?"

"Are you kidding?"

"I know, but I had to ask."

Tears clog my throat. Swallowing hard to push them back only helps a little. How am I going to get through this without telling Leona the truth? "Let me get a shower in before the artistic geniuses show up."

"Get a nap while you have time. Noelle is with Aunt Leona."

'Get moving' equates to a slow climb up the stairs. I've got stitches. There. I'm sore. The piles of baby items Leona's unboxing overwhelm me. There's so much to do and I underestimated that I would need so much rest. Everything is different now. My hand slides up the rail. That fantasy I had about Ben changing his mind? That was dumb. That was stupid.