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“Good point. What’s the next step?”
“Child Protective Services are coming tomorrow to sign me up. I’ll officially be a foster parent.”
“Whodathunk!” Alison shouted.
I laughed, knowing that my history of being a hedonist would not be forgotten by my friends.
“If you talk to the others, please try to leave out the sarcasm.”
“I’ll do my best,” Alison said, laughing. “I’m going to hang up and get some baby clothes for next-day delivery. Love you!”
I had brought it on myself. The baby rooted around on my T-shirt, a bizarre and wonderful feeling. While I heated up the bottle, the front door buzzer sounded, and then the phone rang; the night doorman had received my delivery and was on his way up with the baby formula.
Getting the purchases was another surreal experience. How many times had I walked down the baby aisle with zero interest? And now, I couldn’t wait to get out and shop for her.
I’d called her Princess a few times. I wanted a name for her, even if it was only temporary.
“Baby, what’s your name?”
While I fed her, I looked up baby names on the computer and kept going back to Jessica. Jessie. Jessica Long. My grandmother’s name had been Hazel, and I didn’t want that for a first name, but Jessica Hazel Long had a nice sound to it. “Jessie.”
She fell asleep, and I took the risk of waking her up by changing her diaper and getting her settled in the drawer. It was late, and I was exhausted, so crawling into bed next to the drawer was the only alternative.
***
The next morning, the front door buzzer went off at nine. I was in a daze and stumbled to the intercom.
It was Detective Spinoza. Oh, God. “Come on up,” I croaked, pressing the unlock button.
There wasn’t time to do anything but brush my teeth. I looked like a raccoon, with leftover mascara under my eyes. Great. This was me, after being up half the night with a baby.
When he knocked on the door, I answered it with my hair up in a messy bun, no bra, a crying baby in my arms, but nice breath.
I stepped aside so he could get by, carrying bags of breakfast food, enveloped by the smell of coffee.
“Rough night?” he asked, looking at me with compassion.
I was embarrassed because I knew my appearance had to be a shocker.
“Um, not too bad. She was up every three hours, and it took me a while to fall back to sleep. I imagine that is probably pretty good for a new baby.”
“Wow, she’s a new arrival. The nurse came by?”
“She did. She said baby’s in good shape. I gave her a name, by the way. Jessica Hazel Long.”
I walked into the apartment, and he followed me back to the kitchen.
“I like that,” he said. “It’s classy.”
“I wish I knew what her real name is.”
I’d prepared the bottles, and they were lined up in the fridge. I’d learned from Google that I needed to warm the bottle, so I stuck it in a pan of simmering water while Detective Spinoza unpacked our breakfast.
“I didn’t know what you like, so I got one of everything. There’s a bagel with butter, a bagel with ham and cheese, a biscuit with sausage and egg, pancakes, and containers of eggs and bacon.”
“What army are you feeding?” I asked, looking at the spread.
“I wasn’t sure what you like, and I have a big appetite.”
