was trapped in a stuffy cave, with nothing but this squalling child for company.
In the mornings, when Val crept up to the crib to see if Dawn was sleeping, her heart rose and swelled as she gazed at the purse of her mouth, the flutter of her eyelids as she dreamed in her sleep. This was the best time.
One evening, Dawn cried and cried, the wails consuming all of the air inside her small lungs. When she inhaled, she gulped and hiccupped and coughed. Her cries shuddered and skipped. Val walked with her from the kitchen to the living room and back again, whispering, “Shush now. Shhh. It’s all right.” But she knew that Dawn couldn’t even hear her over the screaming, or see her through those tightly closed eyes. She was afraid to leave, afraid that wherever she went, the baby’s cries would alarm passersby until someone tried to take her away. There was no place where the baby’s cries would be muffled by the encroaching bush or the crash of waves. There was this tiny apartment and the two of them, their voices circling and rebounding into their ears. How long before she couldn’t stand it anymore? Before she thrust the baby underneath the sofa cushions until her breath shuddered and stopped? Val wrapped the still-crying Dawn in her homemade quilt, lay her down in her crib and shut the bedroom door. She hurried through the living room, a glass of sherry in her hand, and out onto the balcony, sliding the patio door shut behind her.
The smell of frost rose up from the grass, and Val breathed in deeply, savouring the nip of cold air in her throat and lungs. In the streaky January sky were the remnants of a sunset. On the bare maple in front, a crow sat unmoving, its wings held close, its shoulders hunched. Her glass was soon empty, and she stood up to refill it.
On the other side of the door stood Joan, meticulously dressed in a cashmere sweater and plaid skirt, holding the baby and gazing evenly at Val through the glass. Val pulled her milk-stained robe closed and slid her left slipper behind her right to hide the hole over the big toe. She patted the tangle of hair at the back of her head but there wasn’t anything she could do to fix it. She dropped the empty sherry glass behind her onto one of the chairs.
When she opened the patio door, Joan smiled at her. “The door was open, so I walked in. You should lock that, you know.”
Val stared at Dawn, whose eyes were wide open and fixed on Joan’s pearl necklace. Dried tears stained her cheeks, but she appeared calm, happy even, as Joan rocked her slowly from side to side. “She settled right down when I picked her up. It’s like she already knows who I am.”
In the shadows of the living room stood Peter, his doughy body skulking and blending with the gloom so that he seemed to be a more substantial shadow than the ones surrounding him. He nodded at Val, his face unsmiling.
“I tried calling, but I think you must have ignored the phone,” said Joan. “Understandable, of course, when you have to deal with this new baby all by yourself.”
Val couldn’t move or speak. Her palms rested on the cool glass of the patio door behind her.
“What did you name her, Val? You never phoned when she was born.”
“Dawn,” she croaked and then flinched at the unused sound of her voice.
“Dawn? That’s a modern name, isn’t it? Don’t you think, Peter?”
Peter nodded again and clasped his hands behind his back.
“You look tired, Val. How about I stay for a few hours so you can get some rest?”
Val slumped a little. Her bones felt so full of exhaustion that they were threatening to buckle under the weight of her skin and flesh and hair.
“I can even spend the night, and Peter can pick me up tomorrow on his way home from work.” Joan watched as Val dropped onto the sofa by the window. “It’s settled then. Peter, why don’t you run to the grocery store and pick us up some baby formula? And get a couple of pork chops and maybe some bread and broccoli as well. I’ll make supper before he has to drive home, Val. Don’t you worry.”
That night, Joan arranged extra sheets and pillows on the couch and moved the crib to the living room. She tucked Val into