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Show Motherlunge a novel 52 "You okay?" She didn't say anything for a minute. " Yes," she eventuated, "There's a lot of moving parts." She sniffed. I waited. "Spine, arms, head with that hingeing jawbone" - she flapped her hand up and down in front of her covered eyes-"kicking legs and Thea!" she said suddenly, like Helen Keller at the pump, getting WATER after all. She threw her arm back and her eyes were open. "Thea, the heart." Her hand slid down to her chest and she was looking again at me. "I know," I said, feeling a sudden arrhythmia of my own, "Whooshwhooshwhoosh. Going so fast." "Like it's running. Like it's trying to overtake us already." "Well he is," 1 said. I stared down at my sister in tragic repose, her gelled belly glistening like a new pearl in the gap between her sweater and her unzipped jeans. "He really is." That shut Pavia right up, and I went on. "Whoosh," I said, leaning slightly toward her. "Whooshwhooshwhoosh." At the cafe\ pumped up by caffeine, the sense memory of Eli's erection against my waistband, and my sister's gratifying tears, I grabbed our paper cups and stuffed the napkins inside. "What about money for the baby?" I asked my sister. She and Jack weren't divorced, and so far, they hadn't worked out any of the formal details. With my help, Pavia was paying the mortgage on the townhouse. Jack had a place in a neighborhood near their work. I imagined it filled with laundry baskets and |
