Free Tales From the Crib by Jennifer Coburn Page A

I remembered. “Mother, go home and take care of what you need to. I’ll be fine here. What could happen in a hospital full of doctors and nurses?”
    Anjoli’s head whipped around and her eyes narrowed with fierceness. “Plenty. I’ll stay. Besides, my guests won’t arrive till ten. We have plenty of time. Alfie, be a love and start the aperitifs, darling?” She tossed her key ring to him.
    An hour later, nurse Betsy returned. “How are you doing in here?”
    “Exhausted,” Anjoli replied.
    “I’m fine between contractions,” I smiled as I answered the nurse. Betsy gave me a knowing look as though she might have the same type of mother at home. She glanced at the strip that monitored my labor and assured me the baby was doing well. The phone rang. Finally, Jack was calling to say he would arrive shortly. Or at least, that’s what I’d hoped. It was Alfie who had some questions about menu preparation for Anjoli. I handed the phone to my mother, who sat straight in her chair and listened carefully.
    “No, no, no, darling! The caterer knows I won’t serve foie gras. Do you have any idea how cruel they are to those poor little geese? I’ll have nothing to do with it. Philipe knows I need faux gras.” She paused. “It’s soy-based, Alfie. You’ll never know the difference.”
    Anjoli continued chattering a bunch of French names I assumed were her champagne selections when Betsy whispered, “Would you like to take a shower?” I knit my brows. “It’s very relaxing. It takes the edge off the contractions.”
    “Okay,” I nodded. “If you really think it will help.”
    “Has he lost his mind?!” Anjoli shrieked. “Did you tell him this was for me?”
    “Mom, we’re going to go-”
    “Hold on a second, darling,” Anjoli said to Alfie. “Where are you going, Lucy? To get more ice?”
    “Yeah, I need more ice,” I said, clutching Betsy’s arm.
    “Let the girl get it,” she shooed with her hand. “Never mind, it’s probably good for your circulation for you to take a little walk. Anyway, Alfie, tell Philipe I need the soybased foie gras or Kiki will have my head. She was the one who told me about those wretched feeding tubes they use on those sweet little geese.”
    When we arrived at the shower, I stepped into a small room with yellow bathroom tiles and a small bench where the father was supposed to sit. “Can I take my cane in with me?” I asked the nurse.
    “It’s handicap accessible,” Betsy replied. “Grab the rail and you’ll be much safer than trying to balance on a cane. How long have you had the Bell’s palsy?”
    I told her it was about a month and was pleased when she said I was having a remarkably fast recovery. “It’s hardly noticeable,” she said. “You’re lucky.”
    “Luck, nothing,” I snapped in a friendly defense. “I’ve been doing forty minutes of face exercises every day for the last month.”
    “Wow, impressive. Okay, press this button when you need me to come around and help you back to your room.”
    I wasn’t sure how long I’d been in the shower, but I believe I came dangerously close to using the entire hospital hot water supply. When Betsy came to help me back to my room, I looked at the clock and saw it had been forty minutes. Something about the hot water was a sedative and muscle relaxer. And feeling clean is always so rejuvenating. When I arrived back at the room, Jack was there and Anjoli had returned to her apartment. He explained that she had an entertainment emergency and had to get back to the apartment to assist Alfie. Apparently, the party supply store delivered horns that guests would have to squeeze, like the ones clowns use for their unicycles, instead of the traditional foil-fringed blower. Quel horror!
    “Hey, kiddo,” Jack said warmly. “How’re you doing?”
    “It’s like the worst period cramp I’ve ever had, over and over, every five minutes,” I said, realizing that gave him absolutely no way to relate. “Very bad,