Love Bugs (Novel excerpt #6)
As some of you know, Love Bugs is my novel-in-progress. Here’s the latest excerpt. I hope you enjoy it.
If you haven’t read the previous excerpts, you can catch up on them here first:
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October, 1985
She understood she was supposed to feel love for this wrinkled, writhing little thing on her chest, but all Anastasia could think about was, instead, how her work would be forever interrupted now. She was still exhausted from the labor, and her body felt like a party balloon that had been blown up to full capacity and then had the air squeezed out of it. Not just a deflated balloon; a deflated balloon covered in sweat.
I need to wash my hair, she thought.
Cassie remained in her arms, squirming and blinking against the harsh hospital lights. Anastasia glanced at the door, willing Bradley to walk back in.
How do they allow people to leave with these undeveloped creatures? she wondered. We should require a licence before anyone allows us to make one of these living beings, let alone take care of them for eighteen or so years. It’s easier to learn to drive a car.
Anastasia looked down again at the baby’s face. She felt entirely ill-equipped to take care of this screaming infant.
Cassie looked like some strange aquatic creature, with her tiny, rippled fingers and toes, plum limbs and slitted eyes and her underdeveloped, doughy features. All Anastasia heard was the bubbling sound of the baby pursing its lips, its scrunched up face and flared nostrils in a sea of soft, pink flesh. If she were being honest, she had to admit that it repulsed her a little.
Anastasia thought ahead to the months to come. Their lives would never be the same. Forever forward, there would be this constant presence, demanding their attention, pulling her away from her own pursuits, the never-relenting demands. Even when they slept, the baby would need something: they’d be constantly on edge, lest they hear something on the baby monitor; watching so the baby didn’t touch a hot stovetop or grab a sharp utensil; thinking about where the baby was the second she left the presence of an adult.
Anastasia knew she could never have brought a child into the world on her own. Her work would never survive it. She’d grown accustomed to writing five, maybe eight hours a day, undisturbed, producing the books that had kept them afloat financially, The books that were beginning to garner her a reputation as one of the foremost speculative fiction writers in the world.
She knew the trajectory that lay before her, and she knew it was what she wanted, more than anything else. Anything else except her husband.
And she knew that she could never divide her love between them. So now, Cassie was here, and Bradley loved her, and the work would have to fit in, somehow. But Anastasia would never be the same.
The door slid tentatively open. Bradley peeked his head in, a steaming paper cup in his hand. “I brought tea,” he said. He looked at the baby in her arms and smiled. “You’re both beautiful.”
“Very funny,” Anastasia said. “I look like death warmed over. But we do have a baby.”
“That we do,” he said. He leaned over and kissed Anastasia, proffered the cup. “And you have never looked more beautiful. Here, let me take her.”
Anastasia accepted the tea as he cupped the baby’s bottom and gently scooped the child from her arms. “We don’t want to spill on her,” he whispered. “Has she been fed yet?”
“Not yet.” Anastasia’s nipples still burned from the previous night’s attempt. “The nurse said we’ll try again this morning. If I can’t get her to latch properly, we might have to resort to formula.” She secretly prayed that would be the case. Her breasts were already so swollen and sore that she had trouble thinking about much else.
“Well, we can work with that, too,” Bradley said. He had slid into the chair beside her bed and was cradling the baby in his arms, gently rocking her and cooing at her. His lowered his face to hers and touched noses, put his pinkie in her gaping mouth.
“There, see? This can hold her for now.”
Anastasia felt a strange tug in her stomach. He’d better not love this baby more than he loves me, she thought.
The door swung open and Nurse Patricia strode in, a blur of blue cotton, tan skin and brilliantly white teeth.
“Good morning, Mrs. ‘Stasia!” she bellowed. Anastasia closed her eyes. Patricia was a large woman, perpetually sunny and a little too loud, like an insistent telephone ringing after a hangover.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Bradley,” Patricia said. “Look how well you hold her, isn’t that good for you!”
She glanced at Anastasia. ‘Well, it’s time for Daddy to leave, okay? We must try to feed our baby again. Can we do that? Let me help you up, Mrs. ‘Stasia”
“Are you sure we can’t wait just a bit longer?” Bradley asked. “I’m enjoying bonding with my daughter over here.” He winked at the nurse.
“Now, Mr. Bradley, you know I would let you if I could,” she answered, smiling broadly. “But we’re already five minutes late, we have our schedule. And the baby needs her milk. You go out and enjoy some of the fresh air. I’ll let you know when we’re all done.”
Bradley kissed Cassie’s head once more, then slowly handed the baby over. He looked at Anastasia.
“Love you both,” he said as he turned to leave. “Love to you, too, Patricia.”
The nurse chuckled, shaking her head. “He’s quite the charmer, your man,” she said to Anastasia.
“Oh, don’t I know it.” That’s why I’m in this predicament, she thought.
Anastasia propped herself up on her elbows, sliding back into a seated position as Patricia extended her arms and held the baby across the bed toward Anastasia.
I’m so not ready for this, she thought.
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