“I don’t give a flying fuck what Mom thinks,” Harriet said, flicking a cigarette ash into the kitchen sink. It was piled high with dishes and four dirty martini glasses lined up on top of her jelly stained counters. “She liked that asshole Jerry, too. Remember–years ago? She’d been trying to marry me off since I was twelve and here I am. A big success story, married to Andy the doctor with two kids.” She downed her martini and threw the glass against the papered wall so hard, that shards of it rained down upon the red checkered linoleum floor.
“Listen, I don’t care what she thinks either,” I said calmly, and started to pick up the shattered pieces, “But Andy did give her quite an earful.”
“Yeah, I bet he did. No mention of Fluffy, I bet,” she said, putting out her hand to stop me from cleaning up. “Leave it, Annie. It’s my mess, not yours.” She dropped the remains of her cigarette into the sink and lifted the martini shaker above the fray to pour another. “Good old Mom! If anyone needs therapy or pot or something–frankly, who cares what she needs. I just want her to stay the fuck away from me.”
I grabbed the martini shaker. “Honey, Andy doesn’t want this. He can’t be as bad as you say.”
“He sure as hell is!”
I was stunned by the wild fury on her face. I’d never seen my sister act like this before.
“So he’s a goddamn doctor? Is that what makes him special? Or is it the fact he can’t keep his pecker in his pants?”
“Harriet,” I soothed, trying to lead her back to the living room without another drink. “You–”
“Don’t you dare try to tell me I’m crazy!” Not budging an inch, she glared. “Who do you think you are, anyway? Owen could be poking half the stewardesses in the country for all you know.”
I let go of her arm, but before I could say anything, she burst into tears
“What’s wrong with me? Why do I always fall for these losers?” She reached for another glass from the cupboard to pour herself a drink. Glasses seem to be the one kitchen item she had in abundant supply.
“You have to get a hold of yourself,” I said, pouring the rest of what was in the martini shaker into the sink. “Essie will be up from her nap any minute now, and Freddie will be home from school in an hour.”
“You mean, sober up!” Ignoring me, she opened the fridge, took out a jar of olives, and seized back the shaker. “I can mix another one, ya know.”
“You’re already smashed!” I set the glass back into the cupboard. “Look, if you want to divorce Andy, fine. But if you’re going to be soused like this, he will get custody of the kids and I wouldn’t blame him. Is that what you want?”
I cleared the kitchen table and pointed for her to sit down. I rinsed out the percolator to make a fresh pot of coffee, and packed the dishes into the dishwasher. “It doesn’t matter how you feel about Andy. Freddie and Essie both need you–and you will lose them if you keep this up.”
“And to think, Fluffy is–was my friend. My best friend.” She put down her head and wept.
Florence Stein was the next door neighbor. Her husband left here for another woman last year. “Andy told me that he had no choice. You’re drunk half the time and she took care of the kids more than you did of late.”
That got her attention. Harriet bolted up in the chair. “Yeah, well did he tell you how he’s been hounding me to get on diet pills ever since the baby was born? How he tells me I’m crazy most of the time? He even made an appointment for me to see a psychiatrist. The fucking lying jerk. where has he been since the baby was born, huh? Did you ask him that?”
I started the dishwasher to the sound of percolating coffee, and sat down beside her. “Why haven’t you talked to me about this before?”
“Talk to perfect Annie with the perfect husband and children?” she said, wiping her eyes with her hand. “Are you kidding me?”
“He loves you, Harriet. He told me so.” My sister shook her head. “He just wants you to get help, that’s all.”
“Oh my god, Annie,” she exploded. “When did you become one of those robot ladies? You honestly think it was okay for him to have one affair after another? Are you kidding me?”
“No.” I took my sister’s hand in mine. “But I think Fluffy’s going to be raising your children if you don’t stop drinking. Get it?”
Essie cried out from upstairs and the coffee stopped perking. “You get the baby,” she said, “I’ll pour the coffee.”
I was halfway out of the kitchen when she asked, “Annie, do you really think he has a case?”
She needed to ask? I ran up the stairs and opened the bedroom door to the stench of dirty diapers. Essie was standing in her crib, crying her eyes out. The diaper pail was overflowing. Essie’s diaper was soaked through her jammies as was the sheet in the crib. Harriet hadn’t even dressed her for the day and I wasn’t sure when the last time was that she’d been changed.
“Come on, pumpkin,” I said, lifting the toddler out of the crib. “Let’s put you in a pretty dress and a fresh diaper. Mommy has a nice snack waiting for you.”
Essie latched onto me, babbling happily with chubby cheeks. Once she was on the changing table and I stripped everything off, I saw the angry red diaper rash that confirmed my suspicions. Without asking my sister what to do, I took my naked niece into the bathroom, wiped out the tub and filled it with warm water. I soaked her in the tub and decided to wash her greasy, gunky hair while I was at it.
In seconds, she splashed in the shallow water, giggling as I lathered her up. After I bathed her, I’d put a thick coat of Desitin on her bottom, and dress her in clean clothes, that is, if there were any. I’d make sure she’d get something to eat, too. By the way she was gnawing on her fist, I was sure it had been awhile since her last feeding. I glanced at my watch. I had less than an hour until my kids would be home from school, but I’d do my best to straighten up the nursery and get a load of diapers in the wash.
“Annie!” Harriet called from downstairs. “What in the hell is taking you so long?”
Before I could answer, she was staring me down in the bathroom.
“What the fuck?”
“I’ll say,” I answered, taking charge of her too. I drained the tub and wrapped Essie in a thick Turkish towel. “Harriet, drink your coffee. We have a ton to do!”
“Yeah,” she smirked, “Says who?”
“According to Andy, the social worker from Children’s Services is going to be at your door first thing in the morning.”
Harriet was on fire. “Great, so he fucks every cunt in sight and I lose the kids! Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I’m saying the house is a mess, the baby has an abominable diaper rash, and god knows when she last ate. You think the child neglect is Andy’s fault, too?”
“My holier than thou sister!” She slammed her fist into her other hand. “Do you ever stop being your perfectly condescending self?”
“Do you want help or not?”
She pointed to the door.
“Be sure to put a ton of Desitin on her bottom,” I said, handing her the baby. “It looks like she hasn’t been changed for days.”
Essie burst out crying. Like it or not, there was nothing more I could do. Turning my back on them, I marched down the stairs.