Tracy

012:

In blue jeans, red sneakers and a blue and white sailor shirt with gold braids on the shoulders, Tracy made her way up the cobbled walk in the glowing morning fog that lined Casey Crandall's house in Laguna Beach. Ice plant, decorative shapes and cuts, lined the wet walk, and slugs trailed across the red and gray rock. Tracy hugged her hip length black wool coat to her chest and dug her palms into her pockets. Casey's Corvette was outside-- not even in the garage.

She rang the bell, and heard it echo in the house. Not a peep-- not a movement.

It was a glass and wooden door, with beveled edges that contorted the view as she peered inside, one hand up to block the whitish morning glare. She knocked.

She could see the staircase, light edged wood, with a black banister, white tiles trimming the hall. Towering spider plants hung from wall brackets, and to the left, dark green carpet with vacuum streaks padded the living room floor. Still no movement.

She tried the door. It was not locked. She pushed, hearing the clunk and squeak as it opened, and she called out. "Casey? Danny?"

The house echoed. Casey's white walls were covered by huge paintings-- abstract expressionism-- by Guston, his favorite artist. The red and oranges, the way weird shapes and finger-painting seemed to be preeminent filled Tracy with instant unease. She liked art-- many different kinds. But as she stared into the gloom of the cold house with two disembodied potato heads staring eye to eye she was reminded that this Casey was a multi-faceted and very liberally minded person--- quite unlike the enigmatic pop star before money and fame.

"Mommy." It wasn't a question. Tracy turned and smiled, going down on her knees to hold out her hands for the toddler, who came around the corner from the den and kitchen area, his blankie slung over his shoulder, his pajama shirt snapped on backwards and off kilter, the saggy wet diaper slapping against his chubby little legs. Silky red hair topped the pale freckled face, eyebrows so light as to be non-existent, accented bright blue eyes. He clutched the blankie under his nose, thumb popped in his mouth as he eyed her in recognition and relief. She pulled him onto her knees, rocking back, burying her nose in his urine smelling blue cuffed dinosaur shirt.

"We should get you cleaned up." She said as she easily made her way into the kitchen. His room was upstairs,  as was Casey's, more stairs were in the back part of the house.

"Hung—ee." Danny said over his thumb, watching as Tracy rounded the corner to where he'd made an effort to turn on morning cartoons. The TV was splashing black and white fuzz and static at them. The remote among other things was on the ground, and she bent, wrapping his legs around her hip to retrieve it and shut it off. He whined and reached for it, but she put the controller on the kitchen counter and then whirled him around before heading up the stairs.

For Tracy, having Danny in her arms was right.

Was inevitable.

Was heavenly.

She passed Casey's door and peered into the darkened room cautiously, hearing snores. She could see the top half of his naked body lying stomach down/ face down without a pillow, covered by the fluffy white square quilted coverlet. A huge ocean scene mural adorned the wall above the headboard.

She tiptoed past, not wanting a confrontation. There might have been another shape under those covers.

"Daddy." Danny mumbled over his two finger hold on the blankie he rubbed under his nose. His eyes were concerned.

"Yep, that's daddy." She whispered back, hefting him higher, as the urine smell permeated her clothes and dampness stuck her shirt to her skin.

"Mommy." Danny said, pointing to her chest, his one hand leaving the blanket as he shoved it under the upper hem of her sailor collar, above her breast, to reside close to her heart. He'd done this since he was a baby.

She deposited him on his changing table, a pinewood affair, with a shallow plastic mattress, and she reached into the bottom cupboard where the nanny usually kept fresh diapers and wipes. Danny was silent as she changed him, wiping his legs down, and finding clean clothes. He was nothing if not patient for three.

She left him the smelly blanket, reveling in his hunched shoulders as he crunched it under his nose. He obviously needed it. She felt like neglect was written in every crevice of this house, this space, and this situation. She carried him back down the stairs after loading a diaper bag with things to make the day easier. She didn't put Danny down, and he wouldn't have let her had she wanted to.

She left Casey a hastily scribbled, off-hand note, so he wouldn't panic, and left it on the counter before adjusting Danny onto her other hip.

"Daddy?"

She shut the door behind them and squished a slug on the cobbled walkway with a shudder. The fog parted as she made it out to the generic sedan. She strapped Danny into the front seat, mentally making a note to go from here to the first department store she saw, to buy a car seat. Casey likely had one, she knew, but where it was was anybody's best guess, and she had no intention of waking the sleeping dragon to find it.

She tucked him in beside her, turned on some Beatles music in the tape player, knowing he liked Yellow Submarine, and started the engine.

Wearing her trademark hair in a top bun to disguise it, and sunglasses on a foggy day, they left the K-Mart with a new car seat and a Voltron Halloween costume Danny picked out. She pulled directly into McDonald's with a play-land, and Danny, who could now 'see' from the back seat began kicking his feet against her seat and pointing excitedly.

Dampening the little mothery voice that told her McDonald's breakfast wasn't healthy food, she brought their choices to a low lying turquoise and yellow round stool stuck to the ground and slipped off Danny's tennis shoes. He could barely be induced to try a bite of his egg-McMuffin before he was off crawling up the tubular hatch, using the black rope net to haul himself upward.

Tracy breathed a sigh, picturing Casey passed out and his child running around in a saggy dirty red bottomed diaper. He wasn't fit. Danny shouldn't be there.

She waved as he crested the slide, and sipped her orange juice.

What to do today? It was almost Halloween; maybe they could find a carnival--- or go trick or treating together. She pictured herself riding rides with him, face painting, sucking on lollipops. She could see his happy toddler face, hear the awe-struck wonder of his silly little high pitched laugh.

He peered over the top of the see through circle thing above her and stuck his nose against the faded plastic looking for her. Tracy waved and then kicked off her shoes so she could crawl up inside the climb on toy with him. Great start to a great day.

*****