Fashionably Late (72 page)

Karen smiled. Janet was a nice girl but a space kitten. “She’ll probably speak with a Brooklyn accent,” Karen told her.

And somehow it didn’t seem to matter, at least right then, that Belle wasn’t there. That Lisa and Jeffrey weren’t there. That anyone who had legally been defined as family wasn’t there, except Arnold. And to Arnold, she had no ties of blood! Karen looked around the room at the people she had been kind to, the people she had connected with, who in turn had been kind to her. This is enough, she said to herself. I’m lucky. Lily will be lucky, too. This is more than enough.

“Best stroller?” Defina asked.

Karen opened her mouth and was about to speak when she realized she didn’t know the answer. And she didn’t know the best diaper service, or the best play school, or the best pediatrician. For a moment her confidence deserted her. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to do this well.

Defina saw her hesi tate.

“Best new mother?” Defina asked softly. Before Karen could say anything, Defina answered the question herself. “Karen Kahn,” she said, and squeezed Karen’s hand.

The buzzer rang, and Ernest went to get the door. She came back followed by Mr. Centrillo, who was lugging a huge box. “Mrs. Kahn,” he said. “Sorry I’m late, but something came up. You know how it can be.”

He shrugged apologetically. “Anyway, I heard the good news and I wanted to bring this along to the little lady. If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll do okay.”

“Mr. Centrillo…” Karen was embarrassed. She’d been careful not to use her real name, and to pay in cash. How had he known?

“We have television in Brooklyn, Mrs. Kahn,” he said smiling. “We even sometimes get Women’s Wear over there.”

After Karen blushed and apologized, she opened the boxes of diapers he had brought. She exclaimed over the bassinet, the crib, and the baby quilt. Then there was only one more box, which Carl brought out to her with a flourish. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, and Karen expected some basic for the layette. That was why she was so surprised by the gleam of satin under the tissue paper. She pulled out a quilted bed jacket, a beautiful white one with hand-carved buttons and the most perfect French lace trim at the neck and sleeves. It was a dream out of some Harlow movie, and Karen stopped sniffing and began to sob in earnest. “My bed jacket,” she said. “You got me a bed jacket.” Lily, now over on the sofa, woke up and began to cry too. Ernest, with the authority of years of practice, scooped the little baby into her big arrns.

“I’m her other grandma,” she told Marie, and began to pat Lily gently.

She looked over at Karen. “You got a bottle for her?” she asked.

Mutely, Karen nodded. “In the bag,” she managed to say, and pointed at one of the carry-ons.

“Put on the bed jacket,” Carl demanded. “America wants to know what you’re going to wear under it.”

She laughed and then slipped into it. She sat herself down on the sofa and cradled Lily while Lily sucked down almost half a bottle of formula.

Everybody else ate too, and Perry held a bagel for Karen that she managed to take bites of while the baby nursed. “How was Minnesota?”

she asked him quietly.

“Cold and dry,” he said, “just like I was. Still am dry,” he added and lifted a glass of bottled water to his lips to toast her.

When Lily was finished, Karen put her up to her shoulder and began to pat out the air. She forgot a rag. In a second, before Karen had had a chance to think about it, Lily spit up all over Karen’s satin-clad shoulder.

“Oh, no!” Karen cried. Perry laughed. Mrs. Cruz shrugged. Ernest mopped up Karen’s shoulder with a dishcloth. And Defina stood back and smiled.

“That’s what clothes are for,” she said.

the end.

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