Perfect Little World(70)
Things were easier at night now that the children weren’t breast-feeding. The evenings felt less regimented; while there was still a chart of who was on duty for those sleeping hours, it was easier to hang around the children, to help out wherever you could fit yourself into the action. And even though Izzy was elated when she was paired up with Cap, she admitted there was a certain happiness in finding how easily she could adapt to any permutation of the family. One night, she would scoop up Irene and Marnie, and Asean would fall into step with her as they helped dress each child in their pajamas. Though she hadn’t seen Asean all day, perhaps hadn’t spent a single minute that week alone in his presence, it was reassuring to see how easily they understood each other in that moment, the way they each tugged gently on Marnie’s shirt until her head pushed through the opening. But then, all the children asleep, Asean would hug Izzy and say good night and then drape his arm around Nikisha and they would retire together to their house. And Izzy would walk to the studio to make a story that had already, long ago, been written.
On Saturday afternoon, she received a text from David. Party tonight. Come. It was the first time he’d contacted her since she had been with him in the studio. She had made herself scarce on campus, embarrassed by how she’d lost control, even briefly. She thought of what the party would be like, red Solo cups and music that she did not recognize but could still sing along to. She thought of David, his delicate hands, and then she texted back, I can’t. She waited for his reply, but hours passed and there was still no word from him. Later, on the playground with some of the kids, she wrote Sorry and texted it to David, but still nothing. And, like that, Izzy imagined that she had missed her window for a normal life, doing things that kids her age did. She looked at the children, running wild, and she wanted to do the same, to run until her legs gave out, collapsed in a heap, someone else’s job to take care of her.
After dinner, Izzy was clearing away the dishes when Gilberto ran up to her. “I pooped,” he said, and Izzy immediately put down the dishes. “In your pants, sweetie?” she asked, and Gilberto nodded, smiling. “Oh, no,” she said. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”
The less she remembered about the experience of potty-training ten kids at once, the better. It had been a kind of war zone, poop and pee everywhere, the paranoia that, at any given time, at least one of the children was having an accident. At one point during the training, five of the kids were running around the bathroom, naked, and Nina had yelled, “Infinite. It’s infinite piss and shit. That’s what this place is.” And yet somehow they had made it through, another milestone passed, their lives that much easier, except for these occasional accidents.
In the bathroom, she pulled down Gilberto’s pants and carefully removed his underwear, so ruined that Izzy could only think to throw them away. While she reached for the wipes, Gilberto suddenly grinned mischievously and said, “I’m gonna pee in your face.”
“Don’t do that, Gil,” Izzy said, absentmindedly, trying to get a single wipe from the pack.
“I am. I’m gonna pee in your face,” he said, giggling.
“Don’t, please,” Izzy replied, and then Gilberto peed in her face, in her open mouth.
“Fuck,” Izzy said, and Gilberto laughed. “Help,” Izzy yelled. “Help!”
Carmen ran into the bathroom. “What is it?” she asked, and Gilberto said, “I peed in her face,” and Izzy said, “He peed in my face.”
Izzy looked up at Carmen, who was trying not to laugh. “I need to get out of here, Carmen,” she said, suddenly overwhelmed. “I need a break.”
“Okay,” Carmen said, suddenly turning serious. “Where will you go?”
“There’s a party. David asked me to go.”
“Okay,” Carmen said. “But be careful. Don’t drink and drive. Call me if something happens.”
“Thank you,” Izzy said.
“Seriously, Izzy,” Carmen said, steadying Izzy with serious vibes of big sisterhood. “Be careful. Don’t do anything that you’ll regret.”
Izzy nodded, not truly listening; she was already walking out of the bathroom, leaving the stained underwear on the floor, Gilberto still not cleaned up, and had already pulled out her phone and was texting, Yes party. Send directions.
Five minutes after her arrival at the party, a bunch of cars scattered along a field, kids swimming in a stagnant pond, Izzy wanted a drink. She couldn’t find David anywhere and she was surrounded by people she vaguely recognized but not enough to strike up a conversation. She had decided, on the drive here, that she would fuck David tonight if he asked. Getting peed on by a three-year-old had left her in need of some excuse to feel sexy, to feel sexual. She did a loop around the party and still no sign of David, having texted him three times already, and she settled herself at the edge of the pond, watching people jump in and then squeal at the pond scum and mud that attached itself to their bodies. They climbed out of the pond, looking like swamp creatures, poured a beer from one of the many kegs that seemed to have been randomly air-dropped from a cargo plane, and then dove back into the slime and muck.
More than forty-five minutes had passed since she arrived at the party, and she stood up, unsteady on the soft ground, and walked to one of the kegs. She found an empty cup on the ground and filled it halfway with beer. She did another loop, amazed at how easily she went unnoticed by every other partygoer; David, she decided, was either sunk beneath the pond, forever lost, or having sex in one of the cars. She texted: Where R U? but did not expect a reply.