LUKA (The Rhythm Series, Book 2) (27 page)

Sarah had been one of those sunny people, a bundle of energy who was always smiling, always laughing. Seeing her like this killed me.

Sighing, I sterilized the bottle and heated up some formula instead, finally managing to get Beth to take some of it. Staying calm definitely helped, but I didn’t think I’d be saying that to Sarah any time soon.

Eventually, she left the bedroom, showered and dressed. But she hadn’t dried or styled her hair, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. It wasn’t like her, but for the millionth time, I said nothing.

In silence, we packed up Beth’s diaper bag and I put her into the basket-shaped car seat that Gretchen and Alice had bought for us.

The grandbitch had arranged for Seth to drive us to her house for Christmas lunch. I hadn’t seen him since the night Beth was born. And I hated that I was so fucking eager to see him.

He knocked on the door and stood with his hands in his pockets when I opened it. He looked really good, freshly shaved and wearing a long overcoat in gray wool.

Even though we hadn’t seen each other over the past few weeks, some of the awkwardness had dissipated. I guess we both had different priorities now, and were both becoming experienced at pretending nothing had happened. But my chest ached when I saw him, my body physically responding to his presence. I hated that.

Guiltily, I looked away, picking up Beth as a barrier between us.

Sarah stomped into the room and frowned at me.

“What?”

“You never look at me like that.”

Her voice was flat and emotionless as I stared at her in disbelief.

“You’re . . . jealous? Of your daughter?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

“Do you love me, Luka?”

“You know I do.”

“Are you
in love
with me?”

Seth cleared his throat and Sarah saw him for the first time.

A smile lit her face and she threw herself at him.

“Hey, sis,” he said warmly, hugging her tightly. “You look beautiful.”

I didn’t answer her question. I couldn’t, and she knew it.

We arrived at the grandbitch’s house, and I was left to carry in the bags of presents while Sarah carried our daughter, and Seth hovered behind her with the diaper bag. I may as well have been the servant.

Once I’d dropped the bags in the hallway and shrugged out of my coat, everyone was already in the living room, crowded around Beth as she lay in her mother’s arms.

I watched from a distance, feeling awkward and unwelcome.

Mrs. Lintort turned to me, her eyes cooling as she looked me over.

“Luka.”

“Mrs. Lintort.”

She laughed lightly. “It’s Christmas: do call me Patricia.”

She gestured to the couch at the other end of the room, poured me a glass of wine and left it on the coffee table.

I eyed it warily. Probably poisoned.

Merry Christmas.

I HAD TO
work the day after Christmas. I was so tired from two sleepless nights, I hoped I didn’t fall asleep on stage. But Sarah was nearly in a full blown panic attack at the thought of caring for Beth by herself. Nothing I said, no reassurances I could give helped.

At the end of my rope, I suggested the one thing that made me want to yank out my own tongue.

“Why don’t you call Seth? He could come over and sit with you for a few hours until I’m back.”

“Oh my God, you can’t be serious? What does Seth know about babies? What if she won’t sleep? What if she won’t feed? You know how fussy she is—she wants you to do it. Why do you have to go to work tonight anyway? You’re entitled to paternity leave!”

I tried to stay patient, but she wasn’t making it easy.

“Seth is smart—he’ll figure it out. And if she won’t feed, wait 20 minutes and try again. And I already told you—all the swings and deps, everyone has booked vacation. I can’t leave them a man short.”

“You’d have to if you were ill.”

“But I’m not ill.”

“Oh stop being such a fucking saint!” she yelled.

Beth woke up and started crying.

“See what you’ve done now?” Sarah shouted, bursting into tears again.

She thrust Beth into my arms, grabbed her coat and ran out the door.

I tried to stop her, but with Beth to hold on to and try to calm, Sarah was long gone by the time I reached the front door. I called her cell immediately, but she didn’t answer. I looked at my watch, trying to estimate how much time I had before I was going to be seriously late.

Maybe Sarah was right. Maybe I could just call in sick. Everyone would understand. But I felt bad about that. I knew how much it sucked when there were no understudies. It was unprofessional . . . and in this business, word got around.

But it was more than that—we had to start working on our new normal. Or was I being unreasonable? My head was so spun, I wasn’t sure I was thinking straight.

Furious and worried, I called the one person who might be able to help.

He answered on the first ring, his voice wary.

“Luka?”

“Can you call Sarah? She’s not answering when I try.”

“Why, where is she?”

“I don’t know!” I said, my voice sharp with frustration. “I’m supposed to be heading to work, but she started yelling and ran out the door.”

“Bloody hell, Luka! She’s just given birth and you were yelling at her?”

“Three weeks ago! And I wasn’t the one yelling,” I hissed at him, rocking a crying Beth with my free hand.

“Okay, I’ll call her.”

He hung up and I waited impatiently. A long ten minutes later, he called back.

“She’s okay. We’ll be there in half-an-hour.”

We?
I took a deep breath. “Fine.”

I had my coat on and bag packed as I waited impatiently. Beth picked up on my mood and started crying loudly, her face red and angry, her tiny hands curled into fists.

When the door opened, Sarah walked in, her face streaked with tears. She ignored me and headed straight to the bedroom, her hands over her ears to block out Beth’s crying.

“Sarah . . .”

“Not now, Luka,” Seth said firmly. “You get to work as you think it’s so damn important.”

“Who’s going to support Beth if I’m not working?” I asked angrily.

“She has family. Go and dance. We’ll be fine.”

There were so many things I wanted to say, but I was exhausted. So many emotions were tearing me apart, I couldn’t focus on any of them. I began to welcome the creeping numbness that worked its way through me.

I kissed Beth on her round cheek.

“She’s hot because she’s been crying,” I said to Seth. “She’ll stop in a few minutes.”

He looked at me doubtfully, wincing from the volume those small lungs could produce.

“How can you tell?”

I shrugged. “Because that’s what she does. She’ll wake up in a couple of hours. If Sarah can’t feed her, there’s some formula in the fridge, but you need to heat it up. I’ve written out the instructions for you, and I’ll leave my cell on. I’ve already sterilized the bottle, so you don’t need to do that.”

Seth gave me a strange look, but I felt too drained to figure out what it meant.

“I’ll be back by 11.30PM. Sooner, if I can catch a cab.”

“We need to talk,” he said, as I headed out.

I paused, my back to him, my heart suddenly galloping.

“About Sarah,” he finished.

I nodded curtly and left.

Four-and-a-half hours later, I stumbled through the front door. Beth was crying, a thin, reedy cry of exhaustion. I knew how she felt.

Seth was pacing up and down the small living room, spit-up on his Savile Row shirt, his face drawn and worried.

“Thank God you’re back! She’s been like this since you left.”

“Did you change her diaper?”

He looked at me, appalled.

“
Jezus Kristus!
You’ve left my daughter in a dirty diaper all evening?”

“You . . . you didn’t say anything about changing her nappy!”

I shot him a furious look.

“Where the fuck was Sarah?”

He lifted his chin, equally angry. “Sleeping! She needs it. And don’t you fucking think of waking her.”

I shot him a sour look as I hefted Beth with one hand and picked up the changing mat and spread it out on the floor with the other.

As soon as I took off her onesie, the sickly sweet smell of feces wafted up.

Seth looked chagrined, but I was too angry to cut him any slack when I saw the angry red rash on Beth’s little butt. I cleaned up my daughter and she calmed immediately.

“
Moja princesa
,” I whispered, kissing her cap of fine blond baby hair.

“I’m sorry,” Seth said helplessly. “I’ll know for next time.”

I nodded, still too angry with him and Sarah to say much. He stood silently as I placed Beth in her crib, and made up the couch with sheets and blankets.

“Are you going to watch me sleep?” I asked acidly.

“How come you’re sleeping in here and not . . . ?”

I jerked my head at Beth, giving him a half-truth and leaving the rest to his imagination.

He sighed and plopped into the armchair.

“Sarah isn’t coping,” he said flatly.

“And you think I am?” I challenged.

“Yes, you’re coping really well. Better than . . . well, better than any of us expected. Probably better than
you
expected. But I’ve never seen Sarah like this.” He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “She won’t talk to me.”

I knew what he meant, but Sarah wouldn’t talk to me either. She yelled or cried, and she seemed to resent Beth. But I wasn’t going to tell her brother that.

“I’ve made Sarah an appointment with her doctor, but I couldn’t get one until January 5
th
.” I shrugged helplessly.

“Oh, I didn’t know that. Okay,” he said quietly, rising to go. “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

There was an awkward pause while he stood with his hands in pockets watching me. I wished he’d just go, but as soon as the door closed behind him, I wished he’d stayed.

New Year’s Eve began with the steady patter of rain against the window. I opened my eyes blearily, feeling the familiar scratchy dryness of too little sleep.

It had been a difficult night with Beth waking every two hours. Getting desperate, I’d asked Sarah to take her for one feed so I could get some sleep, but Beth had refused to latch on and both of them ended up in tears. Sarah wasn’t able to express much milk either. I swear, I could make formula in my sleep.

I looked over to watch my daughter’s sleeping face, her small rosebud lips moving slowly as if she was having a wonderful dream-conversation. I wondered what baby thoughts danced behind those fluttering eyelids.

My heart filled, bursting with love as I watched my tiny tyrant, dictator of each minute and hour. And I knew it was the start of a lifelong love affair. For the first time in my wretched, chaotic world, I could be truly selfless. She needed me. And no one had ever needed me before.

I considered snatching another few minutes of sleep, but then she blinked and yawned, totally adorable.

I plucked her out of her crib and lay her on my chest, feeling her warm weight, her softness, her fragility.

I must have drifted off to sleep again, because suddenly Sarah was there, grabbing Beth from me, making her yowl.

“Oh my God, Luka! What were you thinking? You could have rolled on her and crushed her! You could have dropped her? How could you be so irresponsible?”

Her words speared me because I was afraid they were true. I lashed out in fear and anger.

“Maybe if you’d managed to feed her just once in the night I wouldn’t be so fucking tired!”

She jumped, startled. I rarely shouted back when she yelled at me, but she’d found my vulnerability and then surgically widened the wound.

Beth screamed, hating the noise and tension between us. Sarah’s eyes filled with tears again.

Instead of staying, soothing and talking to her, I stalked off to the shower, shutting out the sounds as the hot water eased my tired muscles and pounding head.

God, if only we could stop fighting
. But it seemed each day we found new ways to punish each other. Although I’m not sure what the crime was.

When I walked out of the shower, a towel wrapped around my waist, Sarah was standing in the kitchen with Beth, feeding her a bottle of formula. For a moment, the peaceful scene soothed some of the frustration, the fear, the sheer terror of being responsible for this new life. Do parents stay afraid their whole lives?