Cutting Scenes - The Fine Line

Pfizer, Novartis, Chi Chi’s Mexican Restaurant, IBM, and the
local bagel shop. I finagled seats on several boards for Jane,
to occupy her time. We didn’t need the money, but I liked to see
her dress up and act purposeful. She never had much to say at
the meetings, but she sparkled like a jewel and added an aura of
elegance to any room she entered.
That said, she was a less than an ideal mother. For some
unknown reason, she was awkward around the baby, and put off by
the messiness of feeding her and changing diapers. If the baby
woke in the night crying, she generally slept right through the
racket and left it up to me to provide solace. She needed her
beauty sleep.
I couldn’t understand her. I didn’t mind being a dad. In
fact, I was thrilled by it, filled with wonder at this tiny
person we’d created. I enjoyed comforting the baby and rocking
her back to sleep. I loved her fresh, clean scent and her
unadulterated joy at every new thing. I enjoyed feeding her,
wiping the mess off her face after she ate, playing with her,
reading to her, being in the pool with her. I savored every
moment with my beautiful little daughter. She had my dark hair
and her mother’s blue eyes; my smarts, her mother’s charisma.
She’d get the best of everything. I’d see to that.
_______
“Wha, wha, wha. Wha, wha, wha. Wha wha wha. ”
It went on and on, a never-ending, ear-piercing wail. The
baby had cholic, and I’d spent half the night driving around
with her, hoping she’d fall asleep, and the rest of the night
humming to her, reading The Duck and The Beast, and walking back
and forth in the nursery, holding her on my shoulder. Nothing
seemed to work.
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