A Kick-Ass Fairy: A Memoir by Linda Zercoe Read Free Book Online Page B

met. Dad waited until Mom went inside, congratulated Dave, shook his hand, and gave both of us a big hug.
    When we told Dave’s mother the following week, she shrieked too, but with delight. She giggled with excitement for the rest of the day. After dinner she brought out bags of baby afghan patterns and set out wool to begin crocheting the first baby blanket. Dave’s father gently whacked Dave on the back saying, “Way to go, Buck!”
    Kimberly was born after the New Year. Dave and I were a little overwhelmed but still in baby heaven. One afternoon, after finally getting her down for a nap in the port-a-crib we kept in the living room, I got cozy on the sofa with relief. I was just starting to fall asleep after being up all night when my mother abruptly flew through the back door, having left work at lunch for a visit without calling to let me know.
    Startled, I said that I just got Kim to sleep.
    “I didn’t come here to watch her sleep.”
    She picked her up, and immediately Kimberly started fussing. I’d been having difficulty breast feeding, but I tried to feed her. My mother, watching me struggle, said, “Nursing is barbaric. Why don’t you just feed her the bottle? After all it worked fine for me.”
    I gave up breast feeding a couple of days later.
    After taking off a year when Kim was born, I went back to work part time while taking a couple of classes at the state university to earn credits toward my bachelor of science in nursing, the BSN. My mother-in-law was very happy to watch Kim for the times I was away. We had it all, love, a beautiful daughter, enough creature comforts, friends, a simple but fulfilling life for a young married couple.

Chapter 5

Blackout
    1983—1984
    I t was Saturday, a sunny but not overly warm day for the later part of August, and my biweekly cleaning and laundry day. I was still glowing with the tan I’d developed on our weeklong vacation on Long Beach Island at the Jersey shore a couple of weeks before. Dave and I had just celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary. It was a good time and I was very content.
    After breakfast, Dave had gone out to work on some of his side jobs of mowing lawns and doing gardening for his own clients. Since Kim had been born, he kept busy working to earn extra money as the sole provider for the family. He wasn’t exactly happy that I was going to start a new full-time job in a few days, working the evening shift in Labor and Delivery at Morristown Memorial, but he knew this was my dream position and supported my decision to return to work.
    He came home for lunch smelling musky and sweaty, but he was animated and got right down on the floor to begin playing with Kim, now 2½. I made our lunches, bologna and cheese with mayo on white bread, served with potato chips and a pickle. The laughter and playing ended when I called out, “Lunch is ready!”
    While we were eating, and in between entertaining Kim, we talked about how excited we were that we were going on a rare date that night. His mother was going to babysit Kim. We were going to see the new movie Mr. Mom with Michael Keaton. Then the harvest gold wall telephone rang.
    “Hi, Dad! Yep, he’s here, just a second.” I handed the phone to Dave. In a few minutes he was off the phone.
    “I’m going to meet the old man after lunch. Ned needs some help with some tree or something.” Ned was a realtor that Dave did some work for on the side.
    “OK, be careful,” I said.
    He brushed me with a kiss and off he went.
    After lunch I put Kim down for her nap, hung the laundry out on the line that ran from the porch to the horse barn, put another load in the washer, and turned on the stereo. Dancing to Kajagoogoo, the Police, and Dexys Midnight Runners, I vacuumed the downstairs in my cut-off jean shorts, a pastel-striped terry shirt, and flip-flops. When I began to feel hot, I blew away the strands of curly hair that hung and stuck to my face, shut off the vacuum, and walked to the mirror to reclip