Chapter 44 Comfort Zone
forty-four
Comfort Zone
Iimmediately regret that I told mom I’d check on Jasmine. Standing outside her apartment, I hear the baby crying, shrieking actually. I knock anyway, hard so she'll hear me over the noise.
Jasmine opens the door, wearing a robe, her hair falling out of a ponytail. She looks like she’s been crying too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jasmine without makeup until now.
“Jake.” She tries unsuccessfully to smooth her hair. “This isn’t a good time.”
I peer in timidly. The coward in me wants to say I can come back later. Instead, I say, “Is there something I can help you with?”
Her lip quivers as she steps aside to let me in. “He won’t stop crying. He won’t eat. He won’t sleep. I don’t know what I'm doing, and I feel horrible.”
Her face is flushed. I put my hand on her forehead. She feels hot. “Did you call the doctor?”
“It wasn’t that bad earlier. By the time I felt really sick, it was too late to call.”
I walk through the open door. Her little apartment is a mess—strewn with baby things, blankets, diapers, bags from the hospital, and a dirty plate on the coffee table.
Jasmine looks too exhausted to care. The baby is still crying.
I pick him up. I had no idea such a little thing could make so much noise.
“Where’s your mom?” I ask over the wailing. This is way out of my league.
“She went back to work a couple of days ago. She’s so tired by the time she gets home, and she isn’t thrilled about...about this situation. I didn’t want to bother her.”
I try changing the position of the baby–bounce him, walk with him. He keeps shrieking. Nothing works.
“I can't get him to eat.” Jasmine looks like she's about ready to start wailing too. “It hurts to feed him.”
Her robe is open. I feel like a creep for noticing, but Jasmine’s breasts have grown a lot. She wasn’t small to begin with.
“The hospital sent us home with some baby formula. Maybe we can try that.” Jasmine rummages through some bags on the floor. She pulls out a little bottle of premixed formula and hands it to me.
I want to hand the baby and the bottle back to her, but I'm afraid of the tears gathering in her eyes. I’ve never fed a baby before.
I guess how hard can it be? He pushes the nipple out with his tongue and screams. I keep trying, coaxing.
He finally takes it, starts sucking. The silence afterwards is deafening.
I sit on the couch and feed him while Jasmine watches. She looks exhausted and helpless. The baby must be exhausted too. He falls asleep as soon as he downs the bottle. I carefully put him back in the little crib by the coach. He sighs, but doesn’t wake up.
“Thanks, Jake,” Jasmine says.
I want to leave, but I know I shouldn’t. “Why don’t you go lie down? I can stay and watch the baby.”
She doesn’t argue. I know she needs to rest, but as soon as I'm alone, I panic. I have no idea what I’m doing. I need to call in the reserves. I get Mom on the phone and tell her what I’ve seen. I talk quietly so I won’t wake up Jasmine or the baby.
“Does Jasmine have a fever?” she asks.
“She felt really hot,” I answer.
“Does she have any red spots on her breasts?”
Now I'm the one who feels hot, my face on fire. “I didn’t notice; I mean, I didn’t look at that.”
Mom laughs but tries to cover it up with a cough. “Right, sorry. Let me talk to her.”
“I sent her to bed.” I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “She said it hurt to feed the baby.”
“I think she has a breast infection.”
I’m now so far out of my comfort zone, I don’t think I’ll ever get back.
Mom keeps going, like she’s talking to another woman.
“Have her put warm compresses on her breasts or take a warm shower. She needs to take something for the swelling, and she needs to feed the baby. She has to empty her breasts.”
“I gave him some formula.” I feel guilty, like I did something wrong. “He wouldn’t stop crying.”
“Sleep is good for her now, but she needs to get to a doctor tomorrow. A breast pump would probably be a good idea.”
Breast pump, breast infection, swelling—these are all words no guy wants to hear—except maybe swelling, but not associated with the woman who just gave birth to his brother’s baby. I’ll never be able to look at another woman's breasts the same.
“Tell her to call me when she wakes up. I’ll try to get hold of her mom or Juli, or someone. I knew I should have stayed longer.”
When Mom hangs up, I putter around the room, straightening things up.
I think about turning on the T.V., but I don’t want to wake anyone up.
I sit in the chair and stare at my phone, not sure what to do.
Mom is too far away. I’d like to call Jess.
Get her opinion on things. As far as I know, she doesn't want to talk to me. I flip through the names on my phone. Jasmine needs another woman. I have numbers for a few, none I would expect to be useful in this situation. Finally, I see Bryan’s number.
Becky.
Why didn’t I think of her before?
By the time the baby wakes up, Becky is at the door with dinner and a black bag that’s the size of a big purse. I’m afraid to ask what’s inside.
Becky picks up the baby and coos over him.
She sets him on the floor and changes his diaper.
Jasmine appears from the bedroom. As soon as I introduce her to Jasmine, Becky crosses the room and wraps her arms around her.
“You poor thing,” she says. “Let me help you. Us Army moms have to stick together.”
A few minutes after Becky arrives, I feel dismissed, or actually relieved of duty. I call Mom back on the way home.
“Calling Becky was a good idea,” she says. “Jasmine needs all the help she can get right now. I don’t want to judge, but it doesn’t sound like her mom is being very supportive. When I called, she said she’d already taken off all the work she could and there wasn’t anything she could do to help.”
“Jasmine said her mom wasn’t thrilled about the situation, I guess about her getting pregnant, or maybe her keeping the baby.”
“I know they had big plans for Jasmine.” Mom sounds tired. “I guess we all had plans for our kids. Things that didn’t quite work out.”
There’s silence on the other end. I wonder if Mom is crying. Her voice is shaky. “I’m glad you went over tonight. Our family is as responsible for that baby as Jasmine’s is. We need to take Gage’s place. I’m sorry if it falls to you because you’re there.”
I get mad a few minutes after I get off the phone. Mad at Gage. For doing something so irresponsible. Getting Jasmine pregnant and then leaving.
When he gets back, I’m going to... I stop myself, remembering again he’s never coming home.