I’m now so far out of my comfort zone, I don’t think I’ll ever get back. Mom keeps going, like she’s talking to another woman. “Have her put warm compresses on her breasts or take a warm shower. She needs to take something for the swelling, and she needs to feed the baby. She has to empty her breasts.”
“I gave him some formula.” I feel guilty, like I did something wrong. “He wouldn’t stop crying.”
“Sleep is good for her now, but she needs to get to a doctor tomorrow. A breast pump would probably be a good idea.”
Breast pump, breast infection, swelling—these are all words no guy wants to hear—except maybe swelling, but not associated with the woman who just gave birth to his brother’s baby. I’ll never be able to look at another woman's breasts the same.
“Tell her to call me when she wakes up. I’ll try to get hold of her mom or Juli, or someone. I knew I should have stayed longer.”
When Mom hangs up, I putter around the room, straightening things up. I think about turning on the T.V., but I don’t want to wake anyone up. I sit in the chair and stare at my phone, not sure what to do. Mom is too far away. I’d like to call Jess. Get her opinion on things. As far as I know, she doesn't want to talk to me. I flip through the names on my phone. Jasmine needs another woman. I have numbers for a few, none I would expect to be useful in this situation. Finally, I see Bryan’s number.
Becky.
Why didn’t I think of her before?
By the time the baby wakes up, Becky is at the door with dinner and a black bag that’s the size of a big purse. I’m afraid to ask what’s inside.
Becky picks up the baby and coos over him. She sets him on the floor and changes his diaper. Jasmine appears from the bedroom. As soon as I introduce her to Jasmine, Becky crosses the room and wraps her arms around her. “You poor thing,” she says. “Let me help you. Us Army moms have to stick together.”
A few minutes after Becky arrives, I feel dismissed, or actually relieved of duty. I call Mom back on the way home.
“Calling Becky was a good idea,” she says. “Jasmine needs all the help she can get right now. I don’t want to judge, but it doesn’t sound like her mom is being very supportive. When I called, she said she’d already taken off all the work she could and there wasn’t anything she could do to help.”
“Jasmine said her mom wasn’t thrilled about the situation, I guess about her getting pregnant, or maybe her keeping the baby.”
“I know they had big plans for Jasmine.” Mom sounds tired. “I guess we all had plans for our kids. Things that didn’t quite work out.”
There’s silence on the other end. I wonder if Mom is crying. Her voice is shaky. “I’m glad you went over tonight. Our family is as responsible for that baby as Jasmine’s is. We need to take Gage’s place. I’m sorry if it falls to you because you’re there.”
I get mad a few minutes after I get off the phone. Mad at Gage. For doing something so irresponsible. Getting Jasmine pregnant and then leaving.
When he gets back, I’m going to... I stop myself, remembering again he’s never coming home.
forty-five
Responsible
Jasmine looks better when I check on her a few days later. She’s sitting on the couch feeding the baby. She’s never been shy or modest, so I see a lot more than I should be seeing.
The baby is asleep when she’s done. She hands him to me while she buttons up. I stare at his little face. Now he looks like my brother—except for Jasmine’s dark hair, dark eyes, and tan skin, he’s all Gage. I rub my finger along his soft cheek. His mouth opens for a minute, searching. He sighs and closes his mouth. He looks content, nothing like the screaming creature I held last time.
Jasmine leans over my shoulder and smiles. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he? I never thought I could love anything so much.” She sits back and brushes her hand through her hair. Her ponytail is smoother this time, but she’s still not wearing any makeup.
“I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to be a mom. It seemed like so much work. I'm an only child and spoiled.” She laughs. “I guess you knewthat. We would have made quite a pair of parents, Gage and I. Two spoiled kids trying to raise another one.” She looks away, her eyes shining. “I like to think we could have made it work.”
I watch the baby. I’m not sure what to say.
Jasmine leans against me. “This is so much harder than I ever imagined." She presses her eyes closed. A tear squeezes out and rolls down her cheek. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Sometimes I think I should have given him up. Someone else would have been a better mom than I am."
"That's not true," I say.
She shakes her head. "This might be easier if Gage was coming home—if I wasn’t facing the next eighteen plus years of raising him alone.”
I brush the tears off her cheeks and put my arm around her shoulder. I look at her, then at the baby, and then at their little apartment. My heart aches for all of us. I consider their future and mine. I think about what my mom said about us being responsible for Gage’s baby. I think about how lonely I've been since I got home.
Jasmine's damp eyelashes lie on the cheek that's resting on my shoulder. She bites her bottom lip, and I'm suddenly very aware of her mouth. I never realized how beautiful she is. Gage couldn't shut up about her, but with Jess around, I never saw it. Maybe I was missing out on something.
I lean in closer, almost close enough to kiss her.
