A Good Mother by Lara Bazelon (classic books to read .TXT) 📕

made her so sick she couldn’t. Cal’s existence forced her to feel something other than an ever-rising despair. She began to look forward to the doctor visits, where she got to listen to the rapid-fire whisper of his heartbeat, had even recorded it on her phone to play back at night.

“Cal gave me a reason.”

“A reason not to drink.”

“A reason not to give up.” She pauses. “It is impossible to describe to you, the way I feel about Cal. I know what you think of me. I know what Nic thinks of me—what everyone thinks of me. That I don’t love Cal or that I don’t love him enough. But you have no idea. After everything that happened—and, Jonathan, you will never know—my little son saved me. The way I feel about him—” She breaks off. “Cal is the driving force behind my doing this case. I know you don’t understand that, but I think—I hope—he will.”

She looks away from him, to the framed sketch of Rayshon on the wall, his head touching hers as they bumped fists that miraculous day in court. For the first time in a long time, she lets herself look—really look—at his face, the wide-set eyes, the perfectly shaped head, the hollows beneath his cheekbones that are plainly visible as he smiles at her. Only at her. Pain floods her and she forces herself to stay in the moment, feeling it deep inside of her before looking back at Jonathan. “The situation with Rayshon—it’s not like that with Luz.”

Jonathan turns to go. “Not for you anyway.”

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

2:03 a.m.

1710 Vestal Street

Los Angeles

“Wake up, wake up.”

Abby opens her eyes to see Nic’s face inches from her, bleached white with anger and fear. Her head snaps back and hits the tile, her hands reach reflexively for Cal’s body but he’s not there, only her naked lap, the skin on her thighs starting to shrivel in the bathwater. “Cal,” she says frantically. “Where’s Cal?”

Nic grips her by the upper arms, shaking her. “You almost fucking killed him. Goddammit, how many times have I told you not to nurse him in the bathtub. When I came in here—” he stops and squeezes his eyes shut “—you were passed out cold and he had slipped. His chin was in the water.” When Nic opens his eyes, they are wet and she turns away, unable to look at him.

“Where is he?” Abby is whimpering now, trying to lift herself up and look over Nic’s shoulder, but he tightens his grip so she can’t move.

“You didn’t even wake up when I took him away from you.” Nic shakes his head in disgust. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Abby?”

She keeps her head turned away, is sobbing now, can taste the snot on her lips. “It was an accident. I want Cal. I need to see Cal.” When Nic says nothing, she screams, “Give him back!”

Nic removes one hand from her arm, pinching her jaw between his thumb and index finger hard enough that she knows there will be marks tomorrow she’ll have to cover with makeup. “Look at me.”

Abby forces herself to meet his eyes, telling herself that Cal is fine. If he wasn’t, Nic wouldn’t be in here. He would have left her to drown. She has to calm down and get through this, she has to answer Nic’s questions so she can get her baby back. So she can see for herself that she has not hurt him.

“Were you drinking? Have you been drinking, Abby, all this time?”

She shakes her head violently from side to side. “I would never. I was just—I was just—” She has to stop to catch her breath, a sob strangling in her throat. “I was just tired, Nicky. I swear to you. But I haven’t had anything, not one thing to drink since I found out I was pregnant. I swear to you.” She forces herself to stop babbling, knowing that the desperation in her voice makes it sound like she’s lying even though she isn’t. “You have to believe me,” she whispers. “I would never.”

“Here is what you are going to do.” Nic is speaking very slowly, careful to enunciate each word. “You are going to court tomorrow and you are going to get off this case.”

“No—”

“Yes. It’s over, Abby. This grand little experiment of yours is over.”

She stares at him wide-eyed, so surprised she’s stopped crying. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. Paul did, in the middle of Rayshon’s trial.”

“Paul was the second chair. He was just—sitting there. And with Paul, it was an emergency. His twins were in the NICU.”

“Your son is going to end up in the NICU. Or worse.”

“No,” she says suddenly and fiercely angry. “I am not going to walk out on my client. I would never do that. Especially to her.” You came back for me, right? How could Abby make Luz believe that and then abandon her? And then there’s Will. But Nic is looking at her with such furious contempt she feels something approaching terror. “Listen to me,” she says, “you don’t understand. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I can’t leave Luz alone with Will.”

“Why not?” Nic’s eyes are boring into hers. Abby tries to twist her head away, but his grip is too strong. Her anger flares again and she tries to get ahold of it, knowing it will only make things worse.

“I can’t talk to you about it,” she says. The water in the bath has cooled and she is starting to shiver. She is suddenly aware of her appearance, how ridiculous and vulnerable she is: naked, wet hair plastered to her scalp, goose pimples on her arms, a droplet of milk on her left breast. “Please, just let me up. I want to see Cal.” The thought of him makes her start to cry again. “I just need to see him, okay? Let me up, Nicky. Please, please.”

Nic acts like he hasn’t heard her. “He’s fucking