Fashionably Late (71 page)

But Karen had to believe that she wasn’t making a mistake. She would let Lily go to do whatever she needed to do, and she would help her in any way she could. And, meanwhile, Karen would stop feeding the status machine, the inexhaustible appetite women had for fashion. She’d build good clothes that lasted and they’d be made by women who were paid a decent wage and bought by women who worked hard for their money. No more glamoura no more exclusivity. She’d work for a new clientele.

Karen hoped she wouldn’t disappoint any of them. Or Lily. In the meantime, all she wanted to do was be granted the privilege of loving her.

Mr. Dagsvarr met Karen as soon as she had moved through customs. “Are you surprised to see me?” she asked. He shook his head and smiled.

“Not at all,” he said. “Not at all.”

“Can we go right to the hospital?” she asked.

Mr. Dagsvarr shook his head. “I’m afraid that the baby has been moved.

She isn’t at the hospital anymore.” Karen opened her eyes wide.

“Why not? Is she all right?” Unlikely as it was, had some family member shown up to claim her? Fear clutched tightly at Karen’s chest.

She couldn’t breathe. Was she destined to lose yet another baby?

“They have removed the infant. She wasn’t ill, so she had to be released from the hospital. She was supposed to be transferred to the United Mananas Orphanage.”

“So? Is she there? Is she all right?”

“Well, she never arrived there. There was some mix-up in the paperwork.

She is being located right now.” They had already walked out of the airport. The heat and humidity hit Karen like a wall and, heavy as bricks, it seemed to gather and weigh her down. She felt as if she were walking under water.

“How could that happen? How could they lose a baby?”

“Babies are something we have a lot of here,” Mr. Dagsvarr said with a sigh. “I wish I could tell you that they are reared carefully.” He sounded tired.

“Let’s go to the attorney general’s office,” she said. “I’ve already spoken to them.”

“Perhaps we could just start with your attorney,” he said. “Have you got his address?”

Karen pulled out her Fil-o-fax and gave him the card. She couldn’t believe it! Lily was lost! She bit her lip. She had come almost ten thousand miles, halfway around the world, and these idiots couldn’t even keep track of one infant. Well, if she had to comb the entire island, she would find her baby.

They drove by some of the factory buildings, and some of the slums where Karen knew there were other girls suffering, as Lily’s mother had suffered. She hoped that the NormCo check would be a big one, because half of it would come back here, to the women who had been robbed.

She’d talk about them on television, too. It wouldn’t do enough, but it would do some thing.

When they hit the main business street, Mr. Dagsvarr turned his rattling old car at an intersection and managed to wedge it between a new Toyota and

a truck made of so many tied-together rusty parts that it was impossible to tell what make it was. He helped Karen out of her seat and the two of them made their way up to Mr. Ching’s office.

They didn’t have to wait long. Mr. Ching, a pleasant-looking man with graying hair, ushered them into his office. “I have some good news,” he said. “The baby has been located.” Karen looked from him to Mr. Dagsvarr. Was it true? Could she relax? Or were they afraid that she would make a fuss and had they found another baby, any baby, instead of Lily?

“May I see your papers?” Mr. Ching asked.

Karen took out her passport, the home study that had been done in another lifetime, the application that she had made to the State of New York, and all of the information that Sally from Mr. Kramer’s office had provided. “I will have to contact Immigration, of course,” Mr. Ching said.

“Why?” Karen asked. “The child is an American. She was born here.

Isn’t this a part of the good old U.S.A.?”

“Well, she was born of a Chinese mother. We do not know the nationality of her father. I think it would be best to cover every eventuality.”

“Do whatever you think is necessary,” Karen told him. “I just better be able to take home my baby. Now, I’m going to her. Where is she?”

Karen strode down the hallway of the Mananas Methodist Hospital. They had sent Lily to this hospital because she was running a slight fever.

At least that was what Karen had been told. It was the only way the child had been found. Otherwise, she might still be in the place she’d been sent off to, on the other side of the island. Now she and Mr. Dagsvarr walked up the stairs to the maternity floor. Kindly, he was carrying her bag for her, since it couldn’t be left in his car with doors that didn’t lock and windows that didn’t quite close. Karen was grateful for his help. But not so grateful that she would slow down and let him keep up with her. By the time they reached the nursery at the end of the hallway, she was flat-out running.

A nurse in an old-fashioned starched cap stopped her at the desk beside the nursery window. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m here for my baby,” Karen said.

The nurse looked at her for a moment as if she were mad. Karen reached into her schlep bag and pulled out the temporary custody papers that Mr. Ching had given her. “I want to see my baby,” Karen said. She handed the papers over as Mr. Dagsvarr arrived. The nurse looked at him and her face softened.

“Oh, hello Reverend,” she said. The two of them began to talk, but Karen turned her back on them and turned to the glass window. Inside, there were a dozen bassinets, all were full. But Karen’s eyes swept over them and, despite the two Asian babies, she knew that Lily wasn’t there.

“Where is my baby?” she asked.

And then she saw her. The baby was in an isolette, but the plastic of the cover was clear, and even from this distance, some twenty feet, Karen recognized the child.

“There she is. There’s my baby,” Karen told them.

It had taken Karen hours to clear Immigration, and that was with the invaluable help of Sally, a state representative (the husband of a good client), intervention from a U.S. senator’s office, and, finally, a visit from Harvey Kramer himselfţat a cost of who knew how many billable hours. Karen wearily wondered what kind of security risk to America a four-week-old Chinese-American female infant posed, and what the whole horrible process was like for people who didn’t have her privileges, her money and connections those who couldn’t take catnaps in the V.I.P rooms at the airport. Thank God Lily slept most of the time, wrapped in a blanket that Mrs. Dagsvarr had embroidered when she learned Karen was coming back for the baby, and had shyly given to Karen. It already was soiled, but it did have Lily’s name sewn neatly at the corner.

Wearily, Karen had called for a company car to pick her up. What the hell! It might be the last privilege JIKInc ever gave her. She couldn’t face a taxi for the last forty minutes of this round-the-world tour. The ride from JFK into Manhattan was a blur of fatigue, and Lily and Karen both dozed fitfully in the back seat.

Karen woke up on the Grand Central Parkway. For a moment she didn’t know where she was and clutched at the baby. Thank God! She hadn’t lost or dropped her. But what a responsibility the little sleeping bundle represented. Could she be a good mother? Could any woman in the nineties? Defina had tried so hard. Maybe her working had made things difficult for Tangela. But had Defina had a choice? Of course, Lisa hadn’t worked, and look at how her girls were turning out. Karen suddenly felt old and tired. Would she have the energy, the stamina, to be a good mother? She crossed her fingers and hoped that love and money would be enough. Then she fell asleep again.

When they pulled up to the green canopy of her West End Avenue apartment, she was jerked awake. “Well, Lil, for better or for worse, you’re home.” She looked down at the little face. Lily’s eyes were closed and the baby’s black lashes, tiny and indescribably sweet, pushed against the fat of her cheek. Her fist was curled tightly against her chin, and Karen had to smile down at the child. Maybe this choice was irrational.

Maybe she should not be doing it. Maybe at some time in the future she would have regrets, and maybe Lily would regret it as well. But even so, Karen would not choose to do this any other way. If it was self-indulgent, if it was the act of a desperate woman, she still felt good about it. In fact, she had never felt so good. Holding Lily to her breast, she felt more real, more complete, and more joyful than she ever had before in her life. Some things are beyond analysis, she thought.

Probably all the things that create joy.

Karen got out of the car. The driver helped her with her scant luggage and the bag full of improvised baby paraphernalia. George, the doorman, late and slow as usual, only got to her side after she had managed to get the luggage and the baby into the foyer. The more things change the more they remain the same she thought, but she smiled.

She fit the key into the lock, and as she opened the door she wondered if Ernest would still be there. It was already almost one o’clock in the afternoon, and Ernest only worked half days. Karen kicked the bag into the hall and walked into the living room.

“Surprise!” whispered twenty voices. Karen jumped, but Lily slept on.

Defina, Casey, Carl, Janet, Mrs. Cruz, Ernest, Perry, Arnold, Inez, and another dozen people stood in a loose semicircle clutching pink helium-filled balloons. Karen was shocked to see Elise Elliot, carrying a big robin’s-eggblue Tiffany box. Alongside her stood Annie Paradise, her hand on Ernest’s arm. Even Brenda Cushman was there, and Karen couldn’t help but notice Brenda was wearing the dress Karen had designed for her.

“Oh, my God,” Karen whispered back. “What are you all doing here?”

“You have to have a baby shower,” Janet said.

“Tangela was here. She’s doing okay, but had to get back to rehab.

She sends her love. The rest of us have been waiting for hours,” Defina said.

Karen smiled. She’d been a late bloomer her whole life. She’d been adopted late, she reached puberty late, she’d been late to marry, to search for her roots, and to realize the betrayal of others. Now. she was late at starting this motherhood gig. “Defina, do you think I’m too old to be a good mom?”

“Honey, you’re not old, you’re just fashionably late.”

Karen looked around her and saw all her loyal friends from XKInc. That wasn’t all. Against the window, the tall, dark figure of Madame Renault leaned gracefully. What was she doing here, Karen wondered.

Not that she wasn’t welcome. Karen watched as Madame Renault walked forward, toward Karen and the baby. Karen blinked. Well, wouldn’t she come here now?

Hadn’t Madame Renault known all about Lily? Hadn’t she known about a dark child who had to take a long journey to get here?

“I’m completely shocked,” was all Karen could say.

“Haven’t ya ever had a baby shower before?” Carl asked. He approached her and looked down at the wrapped bundle. “Let us see,” he whispered.

“Introduce me to my niece.”

“My goddaughter,” Defina said.

“My granddaughter,” Arnold added.

“My granddaughter, too,” someone echoed. Karen felt her stomach flip and looked up from Lily’s perfect tulip face. But it wasn’t into Belle’s eyes that she had to stare. Instead, there were the warm brown eyes of Marie Botteglia. How had they found her? Who had invited her?

Karen didn’t know, but she was thrilled to see her. The tiny dark woman smiled up at Karen, just on eye level with Lily. “Ohhh, she’s beautiful,” Marie whispered.

“Let us all see,” one of the kids from her design staff cried. Still shocked but also transported, Karen floated over to the sofa and spread out the blanket, putting Lily down and wedging her between two pillows.

“That’s the last time that sofa is gonna be white,” Defina said.

Everyone laughed and crowded around, looking at the sleeping beauty.

“What’s her name?” Perry asked. He hung back a little bit from the crowd and Karen wondered what it cost him to be there. Was he thinking of Lottie? Was he still drinking? She would never again blame him if he did. She already knew that it would kill her if anything happened to this baby.

“Have you picked a name?” Defina asked. “If you don’t like Defina,” Latosha is nice.”

“Latosha?” Carl asked. “It sounds like a French Macintosh apple. How about something more practical? Lanoleum might work.”

“I don’t think so, Carl,” Karen said.

“Nothing wrong with Latosha,” Defina huffed.

“Her name is Lily,” Madame Renault told them all.

Karen blinked. She looked into the woman’s dark face. She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. Did the woman know everything ?

Then Madame Renault smiled. “It’s on her blanket,” she pointed out.

Perry walked over to the baby, reached down, and covered Lily’s little foot with his hand.

“Welcome, Lily,” he said, and tears filled Karen’s eyes. Mrs. Cruz must have seen that and came up to hug her.

“She have no clothes, your baby. So we fixed that,” Mrs. Cruz said.

And then they started bringing out the packages. Hand-smocked little cotton batiste dresses. A tiny pink taffeta party dress. A dotted Swiss nightgown with hand tatting. Little knitted booties out of the softest boucle wool. An entire handstitched, perfect layette! When did they have the thne’? How could they have known? Karen couldn’t help it then. She did begin to cry.

But that wasn’t all. From the kitchen Ernest wheeled in a blue perambulator, the Rolls Royce of baby carriages, sent air express from England by Bobby Pillar. The note said, “Dear Partner. Mazel rOv If you design a line of baby clothes, I 11 pay for her college education (all Ivy League).” Karen cried harder.

“There’s something else Bobby is giving us,” Karen told them. “I have jobs for all of you if you want them.” She turned to Defina. “And for Tangela, too.” People cheered. Karen cried harder.

“Now look what you made her do,” Carl mock-pouted. Perry handed Karen a clean but paint-spotted handkerchief.

“It’s so nice of you all,” Karen said. “It’s just so nice.”

Janet took the baby. “Will she speak Chinese or English?” she asked, innocently.