Chapter 2

Episiotomy

Carolyn Pierce came back to the apartment rested. She’d had her first post-delivery exam, and Dr. Gabel’s office always ran behind. So, she’d napped in the chair of the waiting room. The real rest, however, was the knowledge that somebody else was taking care of the twins. If they cried -- if? when they cried -- Karen, the babysitter, would have to respond. Well, she was healthy according to Dr. Gabel, and her breasts were getting full according to herself. As Karen was engaged for the entire afternoon, she picked up some lamb chops on the way home.

“How did it go?” she asked when she got in the apartment.

“I brought some books to study. Hah!”

“You should have seen them last week. Which one is drier?” She was already taking off her blouse. She grabbed a diaper as a spit cloth.

“I just changed this one.”

“Okay, John, you’re up first.” She pulled the office chair into the dining room, got John, sat in the chair, and opened her blouse. John fastened on and sucked. “You’re not done yet, Karen.” Indeed, Karen took care of Paul until John was quite satisfied. “Now, leave Paul in his crib, get this one who needs burped if not changed, and bring me Paul.” Karen did. When Paul was content with his meal, she brought him to Karen, who had managed to get John to sleep. With her bra closed, she put on one of Bill’s torn shirts and the apron. Karen could answer the cries for the next hour.

When the dinner was as ready as it could be before Bill walked in the door, she called him.

“Andalusia Pharmaceuticals, Mr. Pierce’s office.”

“Denise? This is Carolyn Pierce. Let me talk with him, please.” The identification was a compromise, as unsatisfying as compromises usually are. However, she would feel utterly stuffy identifying herself as ‘Mrs. Pierce,” and she didn’t want Denise to refer to her, or -- worse -- to call her ‘Carolyn.’

“Carolyn,” said Bill. “How did the appointment go?”

“Great. Don’t shop for take-out tonight.”

“You’re ready to go out? Are you going to keep the sitter?” As if she would stay. Karen was dutiful, but she looked like a girl who knew that she’d bitten off more than she could chew.

“Not quite. Love you.” And she hung up before he could respond. Well, she’d spent enough time being a wife; back to the job of being a mother. When she looked in the kids’ room, they both were asleep. Karen was resting in a chair.

“Ready to go?”

“Very ready.”

“Look, driving you home means taking the kids with me. Can you walk?”

“Easily.”

“A half hour extra for your travel time?”

“You’re generous.” She wasn’t generous. Babysitters would be a necessity for the next eight years, and she wanted the reputation of being a fair employer.

When Bill came in, she was feeding John. He changed Paul while she finished, then burped and changed John while she got the dinner through the last stages.

“This,” he said, “is delicious. You shouldn’t have done it, of course, but I can appreciate your putting me back on the list of male Pierces you feed.” She grinned.

“At least you say that it is good instead of crying when you don’t get it.” As if on cue, John cried. It couldn’t be a hungry cry. She pushed her chair back from the table but let Bill deal with that one. When Paul cried, she went into their room. He wasn’t really complaining about his diaper, but it was fairly wet. She changed it beside Bill.