“Oh, I know, Mama told me; my poor baby, let me see him,” Sybil stood with her and headed to the back of the house where he slept.
Jackie passed the window on the way to her bedroom, peered out to see if her car was pulling into the lot, but no, not yet. By the time she reached the baby, Sybil had scooped him up, was petting his back, and he’d resettled on her shoulder.
“It was good to see you but—” Jackie started.
“Let me help you get ready, Jackie,” Sybil said.
Usually when Sybil talked she carried an air of authority, and what could Jackie say to refute it, because it had been earned? But now she sounded more desperate than assertive, as though holding this child was the best thing that would happen to her all day, all week even, and she wasn’t going to push her way in, but that didn’t mean she didn’t need it.
“Okay,” Jackie said. “Okay,” she repeated.
Jackie changed the baby’s diaper, and Sybil peered over her shoulder. Jackie found with her sister watching, her hands shook; she had changed thousands of diapers in the past seven months, but she tore the tape off the first one and had to start again. In the meantime the baby peed in the air, sprinkling them both. Jackie was mortified—ordinarily, she never left his penis uncovered—but with her sister there, she’d forgotten. Sybil just laughed though, a deep guttural sound that seemed genuine.
When they were done, they walked back to the living room. Sybil held the baby while Jackie packed her diaper bag. Jackie began to relax; it seemed as if she just might have enough time to push her sister out before Terry came home. Of course there was no doctor’s appointment, but Jackie could drive in that direction then veer off to the grocery store or the park. She hitched her bag on her shoulder, reached out for the baby.
“I can carry him to the car,” Sybil said. “Give you a break.”
Jackie nodded. What was the use in fighting now? She had made it. She was a few feet from the door when she heard keys jingling in the lock, saw the knob turning. Jackie stopped where she was. She wasn’t surprised, nor angry, nor disappointed even, just resigned. She had been expecting it all along she saw now, and maybe it was ordained. Sybil turned to her but Jackie just looked straight ahead, waiting.
The door swung open and Terry started to walk in, then stopped.
They all stood in silence, even the baby, who seemed to sense the tension of the moment.
Finally, Terry walked over and hugged Sybil.
“You’re looking good, girl,” he said. “Looking real good. Jackie tells me you’re big-time now.”
Sybil nodded, speechless, but unwilling to ignore a compliment.
“I don’t know how much you know,” he went on, “but”—he walked over to Jackie and grabbed her hand—“I’ve been clean and sober for going on three months now; I’m getting myself together. It’s a process, but I’m taking it day by day.”
Moment by moment, Jackie thought to add but stayed silent. He was explaining enough for both of them, and she couldn’t help but notice that all the extra talk weakened his case. Still, she grabbed his hand.
“And then, Jackie,” he turned to her, smiling, then glanced back at Sybil, “Jackie doesn’t know this yet, but I got a job today.”
“Where?” Sybil asked. It was the first thing she’d said, and it came out cold.
“At a mail-order specialty pharmacy,” he paused, “in the Lower Ninth Ward. Not at the Walgreens or anything like that.” He looked down. “It’s going to take time to get back to that level.”
Sybil nodded, smug, seeming to smirk. She had been holding the baby but she passed him over to his father.
“Well, you have a lot of motivation in this one.” She smacked a kiss on the baby’s face, didn’t bother to wipe the lipstick lingering on his chin.
T.C. cried when his father took him, and Jackie had to console him.
“He never does that,” Jackie said to no one in particular but loud enough for her sister to hear. “He’s so crazy about his daddy, he never does that,” she repeated.
Sybil smiled that smug smile again, then headed for the door. A few minutes later Jackie heard her sister’s BMW engine start, but it was as if Sybil were still there. Her doubt had rubbed off on Jackie, and she stood in the hallway for a while after the door closed, feeling dashed. It was only after a few minutes that she remembered she should congratulate her husband.
She smiled the way she would before he’d come back and she needed to convince the world she was handling his absence okay. She spoke in staccato, her volume rising and falling in big loops.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said, and she supposed she was, or she would have been if her sister hadn’t come over and transplanted her mind into Jackie’s, if Jackie had time to just sit with the news and process it according to her own values and dreams.
“You don’t seem excited,” Terry said over dinner. “What is it?”
Jackie didn’t know how to respond, so she focused on her plate, fumbled with the napkin in her lap. She had added too much salt to the greens, but the chicken was tender and the rice wasn’t overcooked.
“What is it?” he repeated. “I know it’s not what we’re used to, but the pay is all right, it’s something, and it’ll get me started. My sponsor says it’s important for me to have a routine. It’ll help set me back where I was before all this.” He waved his hand in a broad swoop, seeming to indicate the apartment, the neighborhood beyond it.
Hearing him express so much pride over a job he wouldn’t have considered a year earlier filled Jackie with a guilt that she didn’t think she’d be able to discard, it wrapped so thoroughly around her insides. Still she tried.
“No, baby,” she said, grabbing his hand, “it’s not you, it’s me; well, it’s my goddamn sister.” She heard her voice stretch, rise. “I didn’t invite her over here, you know; she just came. She just let herself in, she just took over like always, and now—well, we’d decided we’d wait to tell my family, that it would just add another layer of pressure, a group of people waiting on you to fail.”
“I don’t think they’re waiting on me to fail,” Terry said softly.
Jackie didn’t respond.
“I don’t think that,” he repeated. “I think they want me to do well, I think they want us to do well, but they feel like they can’t trust me, understandably so.” He paused. “Sometimes I think I can’t trust myself.” He dropped her hand.