Caul Baby by Morgan Jerkins (read any book .TXT) 📕

the sour lady and Aunt Laila. But that still didn’t handle the Melancon problem. Judging from what Amara had seen on this night, their clientele was white people. She assumed they had no interest in helping Black women of the community, those like her aunt Laila. And who’s to say the sour lady never petitioned for the Melancons’ help, much less heard of them? Officer Robinson sure had, so clearly their reputation was not the most savory. From there, her path flowed right into prosecuting the Melancons, who’d taken advantage of Laila and God knows who else. If only Amara could acquire the power and the potential charges to carry out her plan.

5

Hallow was beautiful, and she was all Josephine’s. When her first cutting was over and Josephine was able to get a good look at her, she counted all her fingers and toes. She traced the shape of her baby’s nose, lips, and ears, and she cradled Hallow in her arms. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said.

A week after Hallow appeared in the Melancons’ lives, Maman threw Josephine a post-birth party where she roasted Cornish hens, cooked wild rice and beans, and baked a large vanilla bean cake with chocolate ganache. The pink, round nested gift boxes full of onesies, bibs, and toys were stacked to the living room ceiling. Sade played on vinyl near the fireplace. With each gift that Josephine opened, Maman and Landon oohed and aahed in unison, while Iris scoffed and shook her head. For a brief moment, as Josephine looked around the room, sadness crept in when she remembered that there weren’t any friends to help her celebrate this momentous occasion. Ironic that even as the baby brought everyone together and fulfilled a long-held desire of Josephine’s, there was always something or someone else missing.

It had been decades since Maman last had a newborn and Josephine could’ve used the communion with younger women who shared her same anxieties. But she wasn’t going to propose the idea of Mommy & Me classes to Maman because this had been the longest stretch of time that Maman hadn’t insulted her infertility and therefore deemed her useless. And besides, there was now someone to whom she could endow all the love she had to give.

Josephine was so enamored by the perfection that was Hallow that nothing else mattered. For weeks everyone left her alone so she could bond with the child as much as possible. She was shocked at how well Hallow slept at night. So much, in fact, that she would take a small compact mirror and hover it under Hallow’s nose to make sure that she was breathing and woke herself up to repeat this task several times until sunrise. The only time she would allow anyone to hold the baby was if she was showering or using the bathroom. Otherwise, anything she did, from cleaning to eating, would be done with Hallow strapped to her chest or held with one arm. When Landon would visit at night, she wouldn’t allow him to slip his hand underneath her nightgown lest Hallow catch a glimpse of something that was too mature for her years.

But one day, Landon visited the Melancon brownstone and did not immediately go upstairs to Josephine’s bedroom. Instead, he and Maman sat at the table, where she adjusted her glasses to look at spreadsheets upon spreadsheets of expenditures, credit card statements, and other miscellaneous bills. Landon had his scientific calculator sprawled amongst an assortment of pens as they exchanged notes on the money that was coming in and the money that was going out. Josephine only realized that Landon was downstairs when she had to go to the kitchen to fetch another bottle for Hallow.

“Oh,” Josephine said. “What are you two doing?”

“What does it look like, Josephine?” Maman took off her glasses and faced her. Feeling secondhand embarrassment for what was to come, Landon lowered and rubbed his forehead.

“If what you’re doing is going over expense reports, then why wasn’t I included?”

“I didn’t think it was possible since you have that girl attached to your hip at all times.”

“She’s a baby, Maman.”

“Well, since you have a moment by yourself, sit on down.” Maman pulled out a chair beside her and tapped the seat.

“No, Hallow needs me.”

“Jo, sit down,” Landon gently chimed in.

Josephine took a seat next to her mother and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s going on?”

Maman took a beat and rolled her eyes. “Anyway. Landon was able to find us some potential new clients. A friend of a friend from Deutsche Bank.”

“Eric and Amelia Weber are their names. He’s a geneticist. She’s an accountant.”

“Right,” Maman said. “Eric got into a car accident on his way back from Sagaponack. Traumatic brain injury. I’ll let you tell it, Landon.”

“Yeah, so, like Maman said, it’s a traumatic brain injury. Doctors have to perform a craniectomy, where they remove parts of the skull.”

“And?”

“It’s a surgery with one of the lowest success rates. They want to buy, and—”

“And I told them there wouldn’t be a problem because we have a new addition to the family.”

Josephine alternated between looking at Maman then Landon before raising her palms out in front of her. “No.”

Landon said, “Jo—”

“No! Wh-wh-wh—” Josephine stuttered. “She’s too young!”

“She’s not too young, Josephine, come on now,” Maman said. “You and Iris were first cut when you were around four months old, and so was Helena. We gave you two extra months of wiggle room, but now she’s got to earn her keep!”

“What about the bodega? Isn’t there some money that we could take that would give us a little more time?” Josephine asked.

“Ha!” Maman said. “Come on, now, you’ve seen the books. You know more than anyone else that the bodega isn’t bustling. Most fronts in this part of town never are. And after what happened with that woman, the profits have been dipping. Guess word really got around.”

“She has a name, Ma.”

“And the business may be on a downward slope