Coda (Songs of Submission #9)(39)

“Okay, Mom. I won’t tell.” I painted the lie white and called it a day. “I have to go.”

“Call me when you get back.”

“Will do.”

I walked up to the gate and boarded the plane, a little disconcerted. I’d dreamed of doing things like flying first class from New York to LA, booking at the last minute without a thought to the extra cost. But once I could, I didn’t give it a second thought. Taking money for granted seemed to be an unavoidable symptom of actually having money.

I got the window and leaned my head into it as soon as I sat. I watched New York get as small as a Lego set, with pieces scattered around the outer boroughs and stacked beautifully on the erection-shaped island in the middle. The evening air was crystal clear, even on a weekday. I’d been shocked at how little pollution there was, and as we flew away, chasing the setting sun, I prepared myself for the soup-thick air of my home.

Should we bring up a baby there? Los Angeles, with all of its silicone reality and blind eyes to real problems? The poverty we swept under the rug, the crumbling school system, the undercurrent of violence and ferocity that coexisted with my little hipster world and was completely foreign to Jonathan’s. Should we go somewhere cleaner? More real? More wholesome? More sincere?

I didn’t even know what I wanted from having children. I didn’t know what questions to ask. I needed Jonathan to even continue thinking about it. Past his excitement, the happiness I knew my news would inspire, he’d have ideas. I wanted to hear them, all of them. I wanted to hear his dreams for the future, and I wanted him to talk far ahead. Ten years. Twenty. Thirty, even. Because I was having his baby, and goddamnit, by hook or crook, he was going to live.

chapter 27.

JONATHAN

Petra stood in front of my plane in her uniform, carrying a bundle of navy blankets. Both my pilots were complete professionals, but Petra made most professionals look like part-timers. Jacques stood next to her, also in uniform, but tired, as if he were the one who had been nursing a newborn.

“You flying?” I said to him after Lil let me out of the car and handed me my bag. “You look too tired to drive. Can Lil give you a lift?”

“He’ll take you up on that,” Petra said with a smile as she handed me the bundle she carried.

“Claude,” I said as I held him. He still had the squishy pink look of a newborn. He looked angelic in the mid-morning light. “Nice-looking kid, Jacques. Lucky thing your wife has strong genes.”

Petra pressed her lips together as if she was trying not to smile. “If he roots, come and get me.”

“Roots?” I asked.

Claude waved his hands around, not knowing what they were for or if they were even his. I gave him my finger, and he clutched it.

“Tries to latch on to your breast.”

“Ah. I’m sure I have a bad joke somewhere, but it flew out of my head.”

“That happens.” Jacques picked up my bag. “I’ll help you up. Lange’s gonna copilot. He’s running through the terminal as we speak.”

“I owe you for this.” Worse than owing him, having that baby in my arms made me feel like a petulant, spoiled ass who couldn’t wait a day to see his wife.

Jacques shrugged. “You’re usually pretty easy. And you know, it’s nice to see you getting around again.”

I would have questioned him on how obvious it was to everyone that I wasn’t myself, but it didn’t matter. The baby wiped it all away. I picked a piece of crud from his eye, and when I pulled my arm back, Petra put the diaper bag around my shoulder.

“He needs to be changed fifteen minutes after a feeding. I nursed him in the car, so you’d better get to it,” she said. “You know how to change a diaper?”

“I did it for my nephew once.”

“Great. If he cries, you swaddle him tight. I’ll show you how. He doesn’t use a pacifier, but you might let him suck on your finger for a minute when he’s wrapped. And you hold him and bounce him. Not much rocking, just bouncing. The noise of the plane will probably put him to sleep, but if not, he’ll scream. That’s on you, sir. I can’t come out of the cockpit for fussy. Only hungry.”

“Were you saying something? I was distracted.” I smiled at her to let her know I was kidding.

“We have half an hour or so of flight prep. If you play your cards right, he’ll sleep through it.”

Jacques started up the stairs and indicated I should follow.

This would be the longest flight of my life, and I was ready for it.

chapter 28.

MONICA

I slept a little, all wrapped up in my first-class-approved blanket. I woke close to landing at the same time of day as I left, chasing the sky from blue to yellow. The city below was grey, blanketed in thick brown smog, and we were descending right into it.

I hadn’t been dreaming, but when I woke, my mind was in mid-question. What would it be like to be pregnant? Would I be sick? Active? What could I eat? Could I fly? Could I f*ck? I didn’t even have a doctor. I’d just run to the clinic for my last Depo shot. No way I could do that for this pregnancy. Jonathan wouldn’t allow it, and I didn’t want to. I wanted the best, even if I didn’t know what that meant yet.

I hustled through baggage and to a taxi stand. If I knew Jonathan, he’d be in bed still, but I wouldn’t make it home before his run. I sat in the back of the cab, tapping my fingers and wondering how much of a surprise I wanted to deliver. I’d snuck back without using any of his staff, so he had no way of knowing I was home. It could be too much of a surprise. Not quite thirty people jumping out from behind the couch and yelling “Happy Birthday!” but not a stress-free event either.