Distractions

Joy smiled as Kennedi plunged her tiny hands into the squished macaroni and cheese. Some things you could never prepare for. It wasn’t as if she and Monty were yuppies. They both liked sushi, vanilla lattes and California Syrahs.

Then, along came Kennedi. Bless her. The sculptress.

Three peas sat on top of the sticky pasta mound, like tiny topiaries. They promptly rolled off the high chair and landed on the restaurant floor. Kennedi looked down and squealed. Then she pointed and began to fuss.

“Eh-eh! Eh-eh!”

 “No, they’re dirty, honey.”

“Okay, Angel.” Joy bent, retrieved the green balls and put them in front of her own plate.

“Eh-eh.”

The red awnings had made the place look friendly from the outside. But when they’d walked in the staff hadn’t exactly greeted them with open arms. Behind the bar, the fat dark waiter stared at them. But the place had been empty, so who was he to be choosey? Even now, fifteen minutes later, the only other lunchers were three men in the booth at the far end. First they’d slurped soup loud enough for Joy to hear. Now they were hunched over platters of spaghetti, each one guarding his food as if afraid someone would steal it.

“Eh.”

“No, Kennedi. Mommy can’t have you eating dirty peas, okay?”

“Eh!”

“C’mon, Kenny, yucky-grosso. Grandma’s five-second rule doesn’t work here on these dirty floors. No, no, honey, don’t cry. Here, try some carrots. Aren’t they pretty? Nice orange carrots—orange is such a pretty color, much prettier than those yucky peas. Here sweetie, look, the carrot is dancing.”

Joy saw the waiter shake his head and go back through the swinging doors into the kitchen. Let him think she was an indulgent idiot, the carrot ploy was working. Kennedi’s gigantic brown eyes had enlarged and a chubby hand reached out.

Touching the carrot, fingers the size of thimbles closed over it. Victory. Let’s hear it for distraction. “Eat it, honey, it’s soft.”

Kennedi turned the carrot and studied it. Then she grinned. Raised it over her head, a windup and the pitch, fastball straight to the floor. “Eh-eh.”

“Okay, okay.”

Time for Mommy to do her four-thousandth bend of the morning. Thank goodness her spine was strong, though she hoped Kennedi got over the hurl-and-whine stage soon. Some of the mothers at Group complained of serious back pain. So far, Joy felt surprisingly fine, despite lack of sleep. Probably all the years of taking care of herself, aerobics, running with Monty. Now, he ran by himself…

“Eh!”

“Try some more mac and cheese, honey.”

“Eh!”

The waiter came out like a man on a mission, bearing plates heaped with veal chops and sausages. He brought them to the three men at the back, bowed and served. Joy saw one of the three—the thin lizardy one in the center—nod and slip him a bill. The waiter poured wine and bowed again. As he straightened, he glanced across the room at Joy and Kennedi. Joy smiled but received a glare in return.

No glaring. Points off for bad staff attitude, especially for a dinky little restaurant that was dead at the height of lunch hour. Not to mention the musty smell and what passed for décor: worn lace curtains drawn back carelessly from flyspecked windows; and dark, dingy wood, varnished so many times it looked like plastic. The booths that lined the mustard-colored walls were cracked black leather, the tables covered with your basic cliché checkered oilcloth. Ditto the straw covered Chianti bottles hanging from the ceiling and those little hexagonal floor tiles that would never be white again. Call Extreme Home Makeover.

When she and Kennedi entered, the waiter hadn’t even come forward, just kept wiping the bar top like some religious rite. When he finally looked up, he’d stared at the portable high chair Joy had dragged along as if he’d never seen one before. Stared at Kennedi, too, but not with any kindness. Which told you where he was at, because everyone adored Kennedi. Every single person who laid eyes on her said she was the most adorable little thing they’d ever encountered.

The silky skin—Joy’s contribution. The dimples and black curls from Monty. Strangers, people, were always stopping Joy on the street just to tell her what a peach Kennedi was. But that was back home. This city was a lot less friendly. She’d be happy to get back.

Let’s hear it for business trips. Bless Monty’s heart; he did try to be liberated, agreeing to have all three of them travel together. He’d made a commitment and stuck to it. How many men could you say that about?

The things we do for love.

Kennedi was busy with something new, little face beet-red, hands clenched, eyes bulging. “Great,” said Joy, then she softened her tone, not wanting to give Kennedi any complexes. “That’s fine honey. Poop to your heart’s content. Make a nice big one for Mommy.”

Moments later, the deed was done and Kennedi was scooping up the cheesy pasta combo and hurling it. “That’s it young lady, time to clean up and go meet your Daddy.
            “Eh-eh.”

Standing, Joy undid the straps of the high chair and lifted Kennedi out, and sniffed. “Definitely time to change you.”

But Kennedi had other ideas and began to kick and fuss. Holding the baby under one arm, like an oversized football, Joy lifted the gigantic denim bag that now took the place of the calf-leather purse Monty had given her, and walked over to the bar. The waiter ignored them, continuing to polish glasses and suck his teeth.

Joy switched Kennedi from one arm to the other. The pungent diaper odor wafted across the bar. “Excuse me, sir. Where’s the ladies room?”

His wet brown eyes ran over Joy’s body like dirty oil, then Kennedi’s. Definitely a creep.

He licked his lips. A crooked thumb indicated the back of the restaurant, right past the booth with Lizard and his pals. Taking a deep breath and staring straight ahead, Joy marched, swinging the big bag. Geez it was heavy. All the stuff Moms had to carry with them.

The three men stopped talking as she walked by. Someone chuckled. Lizard cleared his throat and said, “Cute kid,” in a nasal voice. More laughter. Joy pushed through the door.

She emerged a few minutes later, frustrated after having wrestled Kennedi to a three-round decision. In one of Kennedi’s hands was the dog-rattle Joy employed to take Kennedi’s mind off diaper changing. Let’s hear it for distraction.

Joy stared straight ahead but managed to see what the three men were eating as she walked by the booth. Double-cut veal chops, bone and gristle and meat spread out over huge plates. Some poor calf had been confined and forced-fed and butchered so these three creeps could stuff their faces.

Lizard said, “Very cute.” The other two laughed and Joy knew he hadn’t meant Kennedi. Feeling herself flush, she kept going. The men started talking. Kennedi shook the rattle.

Joy said “Eh-eh, huh Kennedi?” and the baby grinned and drew back her hand.

The windup and pitch.

The rattle sailed toward the back of the restaurant. Landed on the floor rolling toward the back booth. Joy ran back, startling the three men. The rattle had stopped next to a shiny black loafer. As she picked it up she heard the tail end of a sentence fade into silence.

A word. A name.

The name she’d heard from the evening news, about a man, not a nice one, who talked about his friends and had been murdered in jail yesterday, despite police protection. The man who uttered the name was staring at her.

Fear, then terror, spread across Joy’s face.

Lizard’s eyes narrowed to hyphens. He put his knife down. He was still smiling, but different. Very differently. One of the other men cursed. Lizard shut him up with a blink.

The rattle was in Joy’s hand now. Shaking. Making ridiculous rattle sounds. Her hands couldn’t stop quivering. She began backing away.

“Hey,” Lizard said. “Cutie.” His voice more of a command rather than conversation.

Joy kept going. Lizard looked at Kennedi and his smile died.

Joy clutched her baby tight and ran. She heard the footsteps scraping the tile floor.    “Hey Cutie, hold on.”

She kept going.

The waiter started to move around from behind the bar. Lizard was coming at her too, moving fast. Taller than he looked sitting down, the gray suit billowing around his lanky frame.

“Hold on,” he shouted.

Joy gripped the door, swung it open and dashed out, hearing his curses.

Quiet neighborhood, a few people on the sidewalk who looked like the creeps in the restaurant. Joy turned right at the corner and ran. The heavy denim bag knocked against her thigh.

Kennedi was crying. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, Mommy will keep you safe.”

She heard a shout and looked back to see Lizard coming after her, people moving away from him, giving him room. Fear in their faces. He pointed at Joy, still chasing after her.

She picked up her pace. Let’s hear it for jogging. But this wasn’t like exercising in running shorts and a tee. Between Kennedi and the bag, she felt like a plow horse. Okay, keep a rhythm. The creep was skinny but he probably wasn’t in good shape. Nice and easy with the breathing. Pretend this is a Ten-K race and you’ve carbo-loaded the night before.

She made it to another corner. Damn. Red light. A taxi sped by and she had to wait. Lizard was gaining on her, running loosely on long legs, his face sharp and pale—not a lizard but a snake. A venomous snake. Ugly words came out of the snake’s mouth. He was pointing at her.

She stepped off the curb. A truck approached half way down the block. She waited until it got closer and then bolted. The commercial vehicle blocked the snake and made him stop short.

Another block, this one shorter. Lined with shabby storefronts, but no escape at the green dead end. A hedge behind the high, graffitied stone walls. There, a park entrance a hundred yards left. Joy went for it, running even faster, hearing Kennedi’s cries and the raspy sound of her own breathing.

Steep, cracked steps took her down into the park. A bronze statue covered by pigeon dirt, poorly maintained grass, big trees. She placed a hand behind Kennedi’s head, making sure not to jolt her supple neck. She’d read babies could get whiplash without anyone knowing and then years later they’d show signs of brain damage…concentrate.

Clap, clap behind her Snake’s footsteps slapped the steps. Mr. Viper…stop thinking stupid thoughts. He was just a man, a creep. Keep going. She’d find a place to be safe. The park was empty. The stone path shaded almost black by huge spreading elms.

“Hey,” shouted the snake. “Stop already, what the hell.” Panting between his words, the creep probably never did anything aerobic. “Wait. I want to talk.”

Joy pumped her legs. The path took an upward slope. Good. Make the creep work harder; she could handle it, though Kennedi’s cries in her ear were starting to get to her –poor thing. What kind of mother was she? Exposing her baby to something like this.

“Jesus.” From behind. Huff. Huff. “Stupid bitch stop.”

No one to help. Joy ran faster. Her chest throbbed. Kennedi wailing. “Easy honey,” she managed to gasp.

 A metal garbage can appeared on the path. Low enough for her to jump in her jogging days, but not with Kennedi. She had to sidestep it. Lost her footing, stumbled, veered off onto the grass, and twisted her ankle.

She cried out in pain. Tried to run, then stopped. Kennedi’s chubby cheeks were soaked in tears.

The snake smiled and walked around the can toward her.

“Damn city,” he said, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping the sweat from his face. Up close he smelled of sweet cologne and raw meat. “No maintenance. No one takes any pride anymore.”

Joy started to edge away, the weight on her ankle made her wince.

“Poor baby,” said the snake. “The little one making all that noise—does she ever shut up?”

“Listen I—“

“No, you listen.” A long-fingered hand took hold of Joy’s arm, the one she held Kennedi with. “You listen, why you running away like some idiot? Made me chase you and sweat up my suit.”

“I—my baby.”

“Your baby should shut the hell up. Understand? Your baby, should learn a little discipline. Know what I mean? How’s the world to function if no one learns discipline? How’s it gonna be?”

Joy said nothing.

“You know?” said the snake. “How’s the baby gonna learn discipline when the mommy don’t know it? You tell me that, huh?”

“Well…”

He slapped her face, not hard, just enough to sting, a touch really. Worse than pain.

“You and me,” he said, squeezing her arm. “We got things to talk about.”

“What?” Panic tightened Joy’s voice. “I’m just visiting--”

“Shut up and shut the damn baby up too—“

“I can’t help if—“

A hard slap rocked Joy’s head.

“Don’t argue.” Snake pinched Joy’s arm. “Did you notice what we were eating back there?”

“Meat,” she said in a small voice.

“Yeah. Veal, baby cow.” Winking. “Something can be cute, go moo-moo, but it don’t matter when people’s needs are involved, you know what I’m saying?” He licked his lips. Snake’s hand on her arm moved to Kennedi’s arm. Pulling.

Joy pulled back and managed to free Kennedi. He laughed. Tripping backward, Joy said , “Leave me alone,” in a weak utterance.

“Yeah, sure, “ said the snake. “All alone.”

The long fingered hands became fists and he inched toward her. Slowly. “The park is silent. No one’s here. This can be a dangerous part of town.” The snake advanced, raising a fist.

Joy retreated, Kennedi wailing.

Suddenly Joy was moving faster. Moving with an athlete’s grace. Placing Kennedi on the grass gently, she stepped to the left while reaching into the big heavy denim bag. All the things you had to carry.

Kennedi cried louder, screaming, and the snake’s eyes snapped to the baby.

Let’s hear it for distraction.

Reversing direction abruptly, she walked right up to the snake. His eyes got very wide. Three handclaps. Not that different from the sound of his feet on the steps. Three small black holes appeared on his forehead, like stigmata. He gaped at her, turned white and fell.

She fired five more shots into him as he lay there. Three in the chest, two in the groin. Per the client’s request.

Placing the gun back in the bag, she rushed toward Kennedi. But the baby was already up in Monty’s arms and quiet. Monty always had that effect on Kennedi. The books said that was common, fathers often did.

“Hey, “ he said, kissing Kennedi then Joy. “You let him hit you. I was almost going to move in.”

“It’s fine,” said Joy, touching her cheek. The skin felt hot and welts were starting to rise. “Nothing some makeup won’t handle.”

“You know how I love your skin.”

“I’m okay, honey.”

He kissed her again, nuzzled the baby. “That was a little intense, no? Poor Kennedi. I really don’t think we should take her along on business anymore.”

“You’re right,” Joy said as the three of them walked out of the park. “She is getting older, we don’t want to traumatize her. But I don’t think this’ll freak her out too bad. The stuff kids see on TV nowadays, right? If she ever asks, we’ll say it was TV.”

A bit of sun came down through the thick trees, highlighting his black curls. And Kennedi’s. One beautiful tiny head tucked into a big beautiful one.

“It worked,” Joy said.

Monty laughed. “That it did. Everything go smoothly?”

Joy kissed them both, again. “Little Angel was great. The only reason she was crying is she was having so much fun throwing food in the restaurant and didn’t want to leave. And the eh-eh worked perfectly. She threw the rattle, gave me a perfect chance to get close to the jerk.”

Monty nodded and looked over his shoulder at the body lying across the pathway. “Not exactly big game.”

“More like a worm,” Joy said.

A few steps later, he said. “When I saw him hit you—the second time—I could actually hear it from the bushes. Your head swiveled hard, and I thought uh-oh. I was ready to come out and finish it myself. Came this close. But I knew it would tick you off. Still, it was a little--anxiety provoking.”

“You did the right thing. Thanks babe, for being there and not doing anything.”

He nodded then said it. “The things we do for love.”

First project since the baby, and she needed to get back into the swing.

Kennedi was sleeping now, fat cheeks pillowing on Monty’s broad shoulder, eyes closed, long black lashes. They grow up so fast. Before you know it, she’ll be in preschool and Joy would have more time on her hands.

Maybe one day they would have another baby. But not right away. She had a career to consider.