from our wedding, which Martin had assured me Karl attended. I was drawing a blank. Of course, I'd been so nervous I was surprised I'd gotten the responses right.
I occupied myself by spreading towels by the kitchen sink to give Hayden that quick sponge bath I felt obliged to give him. He hated it just as much as he had the last time I'd tried this process, maybe even objecting more loudly because it was so cold. I'd already had dark doubts about this little ritual, which Amina had assured me was obligatory. After all, how dirty could Hayden get? I cleaned his bottom every time I changed him.
But I dutifully soaped the hands that never grasped food, and the feet that never took a step. At least, I told myself bracingly, all this complaining would surely wear out the baby, resulting in a good nap. "Karl's coming out," Martin told me.
"Great. Remind me about Karl?"
"Karl Bagosian, whose family was Armenian a couple of generations ago. He went to school with me, though he's a couple of years older." "So what does Karl do now?"
"He owns the Jeep place."
I nodded wisely. It was all becoming clear.
"So you fellas were buddies through school?"
Martin shrugged. "Yeah, we were. We were on the football team together. We went hunting together. He dated Barby for a while. We joined the army together." "Speaking of high school buddies, what's the story on Dennis Stinson?" "I always hated that son of a bitch," my husband said, with very little change in his voice.
"He seemed nice to me." I tried to look innocent. "Just because he's moved in on your ex-wife..."
"Cindy and I have been divorced for a long time," Martin said. "I don't think it's that... or maybe, not much. And he tried to copy off my paper in geometry." I couldn't help it, I started laughing. Martin had the grace to look abashed. "Dennis just... I wouldn't have minded Cindy living with someone, if it had been Karl. But Karl went and got himself married to a girl that just got out of college, right about the same time you and I got married. He's got kids older than her, I think."
If the amazing Karl was going to bring us a Jeep, I needed to get dressed. Jeans, a sweater, and boots seemed to be the uniform of the day, judging by Martin, who seemed to be more relaxed than he'd been in days. He even laid Hayden in the middle of our bed and brushed my hair for me, a pleasant pastime we hadn't had a chance to indulge in lately.
Since Hayden remained content, I called my mother, but missed her both at her house and at the hospital. I left a message on her answering machine, and talked to John's oldest son at the hospital. He said his father was on the upswing, that they hoped to take him home the next day, and he knew my mother would want to tell me all the details. He further informed me that my mother was holding up just fine, which I hadn't doubted for a second. Next I called Angel and Shelby to ask about the baby, found out little Joan was perfect in every respect, and Angel was recovering from the birth in record time.
I handed the phone to Martin so he could call the Pan-Am Agra plant, but he told me he'd already talked to his second-in-command that morning. I glanced at my watch and winced. If you wanted to work for Martin, you had to get up early and be bright the minute you slid from between your sheets. "But I do need to talk to David in Receiving," Martin decided. He punched in numbers wearing his business face, so I went downstairs and poured another cup of coffee.
Just then I heard a chugging noise, and looking out the window I saw a bright red Jeep coming through the snow. I could only assume it was on the driveway. A man hopped out and began slogging his way to the front door. Karl Bagosian was about Martin's height, maybe five-nine or five-ten. His head was bare, and I saw that his hair was very thick and coarse, very dark, though graying, an attractive complement to his olive complexion. Martin was still on the phone, so I unlocked the door and threw it open. "Hello," Karl said, looking up at the sound. He gave me a comprehensive but brief scan, and lowered