A knock at his door and his Mother-in-law entered. She looked like she’d been on the bottle. He couldn’t be sure but thought she was wearing the same clothes as at the hospital, and... that she’d slept in them.
“Your secretary said you were eating lunch. Though how you can stomach anything... I’m sure I don’t know. Men have no sensitivity.”
Frank said,
“You’re welcome to a sandwich,”
and he made a vague gesture towards the bin.
“I couldn’t eat, I may never eat again.”
Now he was sure she’d had a few belts of something.
“Your secretary seemed upset. God knows we’re all upset. I doubt any of us will ever be happy again.”
Frank thought he’d had enough of this shit.
“Dolores, what are you talking about?”
She burst into tears.
“That poor, damaged baby, what will become of her, will she have to be institutionalised. How are we ever going to look people in the face?”
The word “damage” sliced through his guts. Dolores sat and was crying loudly. He pulled up a hard chair and sat in inch from her face.
“Dorothy.”
“Delores.”
“I’m only going to tell you this once. If you ever call my daughter ‘damaged’ again, I’ll show you exactly what the word means. If you’ve any intention of bringing this garbage to Cathy in the hospital — forget it. Now sober up and don’t ever dare pull the stunt like that again. Am I getting through to you, Dolores?”
She nodded her head. He retrieved the sandwiches, found a large envelope and pushed them in.
“Now here’s some lunch. You’ll like it... corned beef.”
“I like beef.”
“There you go then. I’ll see you later.”
Every moment he could spare during the next week, Frank spent at the hospital. Cathy had moved into a dimension of near euphoria. That she adored the baby was a constant wonder to behold. Streams of visitors poured in and out. A nurse said they might need to install a revolving door.
Cathy rarely mentioned the Down’s, except to note after each visitor,
“They didn’t notice anything.”
and if they were close friends and she told them, she said triumphantly,
“They said they can’t see it. Some of them have seen Down’s, and say they can’t see it in Serena-May. Oh, Frank, nobody knows.”
He didn’t challenge any of this. Whatever got you through, he was all for that. A strange thing was happening for himself. When he was at the hospital, with Serena-May, he never thought of her condition. As soon as he left, he thought of nothing else. He’d devoured books, articles, people, in his mania for knowledge.
The books had mentioned a feeling of revulsion. That it was an instinctive feeling to experience this towards a Down’s child. It came, they said, from primitive times when such a baby could not be cared for. Bonding would take a period of time and not to worry. Frank couldn’t believe this. From moment one, he’d felt total love and bonding had occurred instantaneously. Fear... yes. Christ, he’d been afraid, but not of the baby... of the unknown.
Jim had come to visit. He was sober, suited and gift-laden. He’d borrowed the key to the house to tend to the dog, and instructed Cathy on the technique of bonding dog and baby. Cathy had said,
“If he doesn’t bond, he emigrates.”
Jim hoped she was referring to Heinz. He’d also promised not to sell the house. Cathy wasn’t sure of the meaning of this, and Frank feigned ignorance.
Helen, Jim’s ex-wife, also visited. Not of course, at the same time. She’d been wearing a huge silver crucifix and brought a smaller version for the baby. She said,
“A handicapped baby is a gift from God. Bernadette of Lourdes was a special child.”
Cathy resolved there and then never to burden Serena-May with the true handicap of being labeled “special.”
A nurse told Cathy how delighted the staff was at her love and acceptance of Serena-May.
“But she’s my daughter.”
“Mrs. Marshall, believe me, a lot of parents can’t accept Down’s Syndrome. In America, mothers have taken their children to plastic surgeons to alter their eyes.”
“But the Down’s Syndrome remains.”
“Yes, but it can’t be seen.”
If Cathy had heard anything more obscene she couldn’t recall it. It was stressed by many people about the love capacity, joy giving, and sheer endearment these babies had. She wondered if this were indeed the case, hadn’t they got the prognosis wrong. They said a Down’s Syndrome baby had one chromosome too many. Perhaps it was everyone else who had one less.
Dr. Stevens had come to see her one evening, and said,
“There is an area I’d like you to be aware of. Especially for a single child set of parents. A massive loss of self-esteem is involved. They feel they’ve failed with the one chance they had.”
Cathy considered for a moment, then said,
“As if this was the best we could do. We got one shot at it and look what we produced.”
“Exactly. I’ve known such parents to literally hide the child in a pram when they’re out walking.”
“I don’t feel that now. God, do you think Frank does?”
“That’s the point I wanted to make, Mrs. Marshall.”
“Please call me Cathy, that Mrs. makes me feel so old.”
“Fine... Cathy. There’ll be times when you can’t cope and your husband will be the strong one... and, of course, vice versa. No one can help you as much as each other. Also, it tends to come in waves. A long period of acceptance, then the doldrums.”
“Do you think Frank has accepted... the situation?”
“I do know one thing, he loves that child passionately, and he loves you.”
Cathy said nothing, then added, more to herself,
“What else is there?”
Part II
Never rely on what you think you know.
“Tell me again, does the diaper fold to the right?”
And Cathy came, whipped it on the baby in jig time.
“Don’t worry, Frank, you’ll get the gist of it.”
The baby was home.
Frank thought he could do most things and mostly well. The whole caring for a baby was foreign and you couldn’t really learn a lot from books. Literally, “hands-on” training. The baby didn’t know you didn’t know, and trusted you. That was worse.
Frank said,
“I feel kind of odd changing her diaper cos she’s a girl... a bit embarrassed.”
Cathy laughed.
“Well, it’s only you and me hon. I don’t think we can count on Heinz. I don’t think you’ll have much time to fret about mortification.”
“God, there’s so many things, I keep thinking I’ll neglect some vital thing.”
“Serena-May will let you know. You won’t have to wonder if she’s hungry, you’ll hear her roaring.”
Frank gave Cathy a long look.
“What.”
“I was just wondering. Having Serena-May, do you think we’ll change?”
“My mother says about me that I bring out the best in people.”
“Well, that’s true, you do.”
“But that they bring out the worst in me.”
“Ah, the old Irish back-hander, isn’t it. They praise but always the little sting in the tail... did she say anything about me.”
Cathy laughed.
“That’s the oddest thing. I don’t know what it means, but she said you make heavenly sandwiches. Do you, is this a hidden art?”