PSI-3
Milo carried the record player into Room 103. It was dim and shadowy, the big window let in only moonlight. He tapped the mage light that was affixed a convenient Calliope-height near the door. It bathed the room in amber glow. He touched a couple of the dangling paper lanterns on the way to the art table — he’d fixed some of those too, and hung them in the air like the General did the record player. Except he made sure Calliope could reach. Their dangling tassels brushed him in the nose.
It smelled like her in there. Plain white soap… and art supplies. Paint, he could pick out paint. Acrylics, specifically. Also glue and paper and pencil shavings. There was a discarded shirt with paint stains on the floor, ready and waiting for her to put it on and produce some more weird art, now with Lucy in tow. The bed was comfortably rumpled and inviting him to sit on it with Calliope and the new baby and listen to more records. Everything the same.
And nothing the same at all.
I never had to think about how easy it was to lose everything before…
No, he had thought that. About dying during the siege. About everyone hating him, even now. But because he did something to screw up and he deserved it. Having things taken away from him, maybe, but not just losing them — with nothing he or anybody else could do.
He set the record player in the chair and put the paper frog on the art table.
He noted the rocking chair and bassinet, upended against the wall with wet paint signs and thought about setting them upright so they’d be waiting for her. I guess nobody’s going to jinx them now the baby’s here…
But the baby wasn’t here, and even when she was…
He wrapped both arms around his waist and curled over. He couldn’t think about this here. He couldn’t talk about this here, even if Calliope had a mirror somewhere. Not with everything here that she touched and lived in and liked and might never have come back to. It was too much.
He put out all the lights and shut the door behind him.
Mordecai was still in the front room and wanted to know if he wanted chocolate or cereal or something, but Milo shook his head and that was enough. They knew he was upset. They thought it was about the baby — and it was, but not about it hurting Calliope or being dangerous or the waiting room with all the people. That part was over. It wasn’t even about the scary hospital and all those ladies named ‘Mary’ — that part wasn’t over, but he thought probably it would be. There was more now. There was so much more now and he needed to talk about it and he could only do that with one person.
He didn’t know… if it was right, what he was thinking. What he wanted to do. It was so incredibly important and he was scared of saying it even to Ann — whether he was right or wrong. He wanted the bedroom mirror, and he had waited for it, even when she tried to talk to him in the bus window on the way home. But he couldn’t put it off any longer. It was too big and too hard for him to handle by himself.
She was there in the mirror but she was quiet. She waited for him to talk. She was so patient with him. Always. He was so frightened of hurting her.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Ann, Calliope is going to have a baby.
Milo, she has one. She was going to have one for a long time, now she has one. Don’t you understand that?
He shook his head. No, Ann. She might not have had it, or something could have been wrong with it. Or something could have happened to her. But Lucy is fine and Calliope is fine. Calliope is going to have a baby.
Ann nodded slowly. Yes. It looks like Calliope is going to have a baby.
Calliope isn’t married, and she doesn’t have a job. He drew another long breath. Single mothers go to the workhouse.
The hospital was bad, but it was just for right now. The workhouse was forever. He only got out because he was a boy and they didn’t want him. Calliope and Lucy would be split up in the workhouse. Calliope wouldn’t be able to be Lucy’s mother, and Lucy wouldn’t even know that she had a mother. Calliope wouldn’t be able to do anything to help Lucy or protect her, or love her. And if they wanted to hurt Lucy so she couldn’t talk or hug anyone then they could do that.
Ann rapidly shook her head. Milo, Calliope lives here, with Hyacinth. Hyacinth will not let her go to the workhouse! Hyacinth only charges what people can pay. If that’s nothing, she takes nothing. Hyacinth won’t even let the General pay rent for Calliope! Mordecai didn’t pay rent for a very long time while Erik was hurt, he couldn’t even buy food. Hyacinth didn’t throw them out of the house and she’s not going to. Calliope will not go to the workhouse!
This is not a very good house. Milo put both hands up and shook his head right away to what Ann wanted to say. No, you’re right. It’s wonderful, and the people are wonderful. But there is a big hole in the roof and the floor is in pieces and people throw things at this house and break the windows and write screaming words on the walls and set fires. Something can happen to this house and something can happen to Hyacinth. Calliope is going to have a baby for a long time. It will be hard for her to have a job for a long time.
He paused and put both his hands on the dresser. It was a lot easier to think about that having said it.
Okay? Is that right? That isn’t wrong, is it?
No, Milo, I… I guess it’s not.
Okay. He nodded to himself. I have a job. He put up both his hands again, though Ann hadn’t tried to interrupt this time. You have a job too, but I have the job at the factory. That’s the important one. That’s what I need to talk about. Something could happen to me, like something could happen to Hyacinth or the house. But the job at the factory has a pension. If I went full-time at the factory for a year, I could start having a pension, and there would keep being more of it, and if something happened to me then Calliope could have it.
Wait, no. He was getting ahead of himself.
If Calliope were married to me, then she could have the pension. And there would be someone to take care of Lucy if something happened to her, and Lucy wouldn’t have to go to the orphanage.
I think Calliope likes me. I think she might marry me if I asked her and I told her about the pension, and how much I like her and how I want her and Lucy to be safe.
Ann blinked at him and stared. Milo…
He shook his head. Wait, though. Because I can’t just do that. It can’t be the same if I do that. I don’t think I can be a husband and a father and full-time at the factory and you too.
And… And I love you a lot, Ann. You’re wonderful. You’re my best friend. But I think Lucy would like to have a dad who she knows who he’s going to be, and he doesn’t change back and forth all the time like he’s crazy, or have people try to hurt him because he’s in a dress.
Ann put both hands over her mouth, and she was crying a little — but it looked like she might be smiling too. It was hard to tell because of the hands. Milo, you would like to be married to Calliope and be a dad?
He nodded. I would really like that a lot.
Will it make you happy?
It was easy to slip back into old patterns, even if they were backwards. It was a mirror, anyway. Very happy, Ann.
Ann was definitely smiling. Will you smile? she asked him.
He tried to. He tried very hard. I’m not.
Oh, it’s all right. We’ll explain about the smile. Oh, or you will. You can do a card! Calliope will understand. You’ll see.
Ann, I… I want to cry because I’m going to miss you a lot.
But you’ll be happy?
Yes, but I’m scared. I’m going to change, okay?
Yes, dear. Of course it’s okay. I want to cry too. She smiled. I’m happy!
———
Milo had a difficult day at work. There had been very little sleep. Hyacinth didn’t want him to go, but he told her he was okay. He needed work to like him. He thought he should do a card about going full-time and ask about the pension, but he was too scared. He leaned over the dresser in his room and chewed off the erasers on three pencils and tried and couldn’t. He was tired and scared Calliope wouldn’t like him enough to marry him even with the pension, and then if she went to the workhouse it would be his fault, and he was worried about losing Ann, and maybe Lucy wouldn’t like him for a dad, and that was probably just too much and he’d do the card later. Ann had to keep telling him to stop and breathe all day, and he blew up a watch and got really, really scared, but he snatched it off the conveyor belt and he fixed it really fast and he didn’t think work would notice it and fire him so he couldn’t help Lucy and Calliope anymore.
Maybe Quality Control might’ve noticed there was a smoke stain on it, but Quality Control really wasn’t very good. One of the watches he bought one time was missing a minute hand. He got them at a discount, though, and it wasn’t that hard a thing to fix.
Ann kept telling him to get coffee and he kept forgetting to drink it. He didn’t seem to have any problem staying awake, though.
He left work at two and got home by three and changed and Ann talked to him in the mirror for a while. The hospital people didn’t want them to come back today. They said Calliope would be tired. Also, all of them had come in with Calliope and been in the waiting room and there had been two little kids and colored people and an exploding record player and someone — not necessarily the colored people — had obviously been doing some magic and that needed to not happen again. None of them were the husband or even related either. Ann thought probably they would let her in because she was just one person and she hadn’t been there with everyone and she didn’t look magical and she made a pretty good woman. Her shoes were a little big. Maybe she was a bit tall. Anyway, Milo didn’t need to go through another day of waiting around and this was a nice thing they were trying to do for Calliope. They might as well try.
She decided she would say she was a cousin.
She fixed her face very carefully. She removed the white bandage, arranged her hair to conceal the staples in her forehead and dabbed makeup on the black eye so as not to garner any uncomfortable scrutiny. A silk scarf with a feminine pattern of flowers went nicely around her throat to hide anything suspicious, and she added a pair of lavender gloves just in case her hands were maybe not as fine or delicate as they should have been. (She thought she had very nice hands, really, though she would’ve liked to have sculpted and painted the nails. That wasn’t really an option with Milo’s job and all, but she was always on the lookout for some magic that would… Well. She guessed that didn’t matter now. It was all right.)
She got on the bus.
She rode up top. Milo liked to ride up top because it was louder and fewer people would talk to him. Ann liked to look at things. It was starting to get cold. The leaves were like fire. The little brown birds were flitting in and out of the branches and hopping along the cobbles and trying to get fat for the winter. It was gray and black and brown and red and yellow and orange… and always a bit blurry because she needed glasses. Today the sky above was burning blue with clouds so white they glowed.
She liked the cherry blossoms in the spring that made everything sweet and pink and the sky like soft gray cotton batting. She didn’t know if she was going to see that again. She wished she’d known about that back when there were still cherry blossoms, but she guessed she couldn’t have liked them more.
Maybe they might’ve made her sad.
She wasn’t sure if she was sad.
Milo liked the cherry blossoms a lot too, and he could see them better because he wore the glasses. Milo and Calliope and Lucy could have cherry blossoms.
She didn’t really know what was going to happen to her. She had thought about it. What would happen if Milo didn’t need her to protect him like that anymore. If he could do the things that made him happy. If he had started to take back all the good things he loved that he had given to her. Ann? Do you think I could have a red shirt? What would she say? No, Milo. All the colors are mine. He would let her say that. He would let her eat up half of his life, the richer half, forever, because he needed her. He thought he needed her. He thought he needed safety more than colors.
Maybe he did. At least right now.
Well, no. Maybe not right now.
This was strange, how it had happened. Not a slow tentative creep. Not sniffing and startling and an inch at a time like a wild deer. Not like how he did everything. He hadn’t snatched at a color or tried to get away to safety with a shoe. He had made a grab for two entire human beings. Ann? Do you think I could have Lucy and Calliope?
What could she say to that?
Let’s get on the bus and head up to the hospital and get them right now, obviously.
But it had come so fast. She hadn’t thought she’d be leaving him this way. One big decision. A huge one. I want Lucy and Calliope AND I don’t want Ann. And here are the reasons.
It made sense. He had done the math and checked over his work because he was Milo and he did that. All the individual pieces functioned properly. But he had built the machine because he loved them and he wanted them to be safe.
He was scared out of his mind about it, but he was still telling her to do it. I want this. I need this. Do it. Go.
It was odd that he didn’t seem to want any of his things back. She could see maybe not dresses, maybe not a lot of dresses, maybe not outside, and maybe shoes the same way, but the colors? Lucy and Calliope wouldn’t mind him in colors. And the singing, maybe he couldn’t use that right now but if Lucy and Calliope could keep helping him get better — and of course they could! — he was going to want it eventually. She guessed he was just so excited about it he’d forgotten about all she had. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen to her if she left this way, if Milo just decided to stop, but she would have to find some way to leave him his things. If he didn’t remember them now, he would later. They made him happy.
Calliope made him so happy he had forgotten about everything else.
There was a woman outside the hospital selling flowers. Ann bought half a dozen red roses with fern leaves and baby’s breath — all she could manage and still afford a bus back home. The nurses would have a water glass or something to put them in. If she had wanted a vase, she would’ve had to omit two roses. It was better to have the roses.
Smiling easily, Ann talked her way past a woman at a desk, and then a nurses’ station. She allowed herself no worry. Milo was worried enough for three people and the hospital setting was not improving him. It wasn’t the infirmary, but it was a lot like the infirmary. White walls and linens. Metal beds with wheels on them. The mingled smells of blood and urine and disinfectant. Expectation made it even worse. If it were just him alone, he would’ve stood outside the front doors holding the flowers and too scared to go in for however many days it took for Calliope to come out.
Ann, in a dress, had a little easier time of it, but she still didn’t like the place.
Calliope, as it turned out, didn’t like the place either.
Ann had arrived with a gray-clad nurse and a promise to go away if Calliope was sleeping. She looked positively ridiculous for her surroundings, in a green silk dress with a flowered scarf and high heels and red roses and long red hair. She towered over the little gray nurse and her heeled boots clacked on the tile floor. She was like some kind of parade float, or a smear of oil paint on a charcoal sketch.
Calliope had her cheek against the pillow and a hand over her face, she looked so small and pale. She didn’t wear nightdresses. She had on a white T-shirt and, under the blanket, some plaid boxer shorts. The nurses had not approved.
“Please,” said the gray nurse, lifting a hand to guide the enormous woman away.
Calliope woke instantly, if she had even been sleeping. She spread her arms for a hug and began to cry. “Oh, Ann, I hate it here!”
“Miss,” said the nurse. This sort of thing was not conducive to healing.
“Go away,” said Ann, hugging. She swatted the nurse across her aproned chest with the flowers. “Put these in something. Go away.”
“They won’t let me have Lucy,” Calliope sobbed against her, never minding whether the nurse went away or anything to do with the flowers. “They keep taking her away. I just want to hold her. She’s mine!”
“Oh, my dear,” Ann said. “It’s all right. We’ll get her for you. No, no no. Don’t cry, sweetheart. We’ll get her for you. I promise…”
Milo wanted to do more than get Lucy. Milo wanted to get Lucy and Calliope and carry them both out of the hospital as fast as he could run, and then he didn’t particularly care what. He’d get on the bus with them if he had to!
Milo, that will hurt them. Calliope just had a baby and Lucy was just born. They need to be somewhere…
They need to be safe!
They are safe. We’re going to make them safe! Just calm down and let me.
“Why didn’t anyone come?” Calliope asked her. She sniffled and swiped her arm across her face. Her mouth was a wobbly line. “Visiting hours are…” She sobbed. “Visiting hours are ten tuh-tuh-to eight!”
“Oh, honey,” Ann said. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed Calliope’s eyes. It was handy to have a purse. She didn’t know how Milo got by with just pockets. “They said we shouldn’t. They said you’d be tired.” They also said a lot of other things that were a lot less kind, but Ann didn’t think Calliope needed more upsetting.
“I am tired!” Calliope said. “I want my fuh-fuh-family!”
“Oh,” Ann said. Is that what we are? Already? She drew Calliope near again. “It’s all right, darling. We’re going to get Lucy for you, then I’m going to go home and bring everyone. We’ll camp here. Maggie and the General can glue people to the ceiling if they complain!”
“No, don’t go,” Calliope said softly. She curled closer and drew her knees up to her chest.
Ann scooted into the bed so she could hold Calliope in her lap. “I won’t move an inch,” she said.
When the nurse returned with the roses resting in a pitcher of water, Ann began negotiations for Lucy.
“Feeding time is…” said the nurse.
“I don’t care,” said Ann. “This woman wants her daughter and her heart is breaking. Bring the baby here.”
It didn’t take much. A couple repetitions. Nurses are people, too. Somewhere in between the starched white hats and the sensible shoes. Negotiation for Lucy’s bed was considerably more difficult. Multiple nurses operating in tandem did not feel they had the authority to do that.
“Please, miss,” one of them whispered. They seemed to get quieter as Ann got louder. “You have to understand. The beds in the nursery are like this.” She made several small spaces with her hands in close proximity. “It’s six in a row and they don’t come apart. We have no place to put her.”
“Find something,” Ann said coldly. “I don’t care if it’s a cardboard box. I don’t care if it’s a dresser drawer. A little thing like her can’t need much. She is staying here!”
“If she cries…” another began.
“I refuse to believe a maternity ward lacks the resources to deal with a crying child!” Ann replied. “If she requires a rocking chair or a pacifier, you can bring those too!”
“There is no space…”
“I see a few empty beds,” Ann said. “Would you like me to assist you in wheeling them out into the hall?”
This same basic argument needed repeating to a couple of doctors, and a man in a suit and tie, and then some sullen-looking orderlies. When asked to leave and threatened with the police, Ann replied that they had better get the police, because she wasn’t budging for anything less. And if they wished to have a riot on their hands, she was willing to start one. By the time one of the orderlies found a wheeled bassinet in a supply closet, several other women were demanding their infants. The whole maternity ward was in revolt.
Oh, well, Ann thought, smiling. If I have to overthrow a hospital administration to make Milo and Calliope happy, I suppose I can do that. I’m certain we’ll get around to the marriage proposal eventually! She wrapped an arm around her purse. It made a pretty good cudgel; she had occasionally employed it as such — and there was a hatpin in it. She really didn’t know how Milo got along with just pockets.
They eventually wheeled in one of those nursery beds, where the babies slept six abreast like little loaves of bread — although one baby did end up bedding down in what looked like a drawer pulled out of a filing cabinet. Furniture was rearranged. A couple of rocking chairs were added, and one woman whose small son really was too delicate to be moved was wheeled down the hall and allowed to sleep in the nursery with him.
“Well, now, Calliope, my love, how is that?” Ann asked her.
Calliope was sitting up in bed and holding Lucy against her. “You brought me some roses,” she said finally. She really was tired.
“They’re from Milo,” Ann replied.
“I like roses,” Calliope said.
Ann removed the roses from the night table (this required a bit of a squeeze due to the addition of the bassinet) and sat on the bed with them so Calliope could like them from a nearer distance.
Calliope admired the scent, and the color, and the arrangement… although she thought it should go a little bit differently. Ann assisted her. “Careful, dear, mind the thorns…”
“It would be fun to have something really strange in there,” Calliope said, smiling. “Like a soup can. Or a dead mouse.”
“Well, maybe I can bring you a soup can when I come back, darling. I’m sure we have a few in the yard.” She didn’t feel it was appropriate to offer a dead mouse. Not in a hospital.
“Ann, you’re really wonderful,” Calliope said. “You made them give me Lucy.” She lifted the baby in her arms.
Ann brushed the infant’s cheek with a gloved hand, then she set the roses aside and removed the glove. “You did mention you wanted her, dear,” she said gently.
Lucy opened her eyes and had a brief look at the colorful lady with the green and the red. Lucy was pretty darn tired too.
“I wish I could’ve told them I was going to hit them,” Calliope said. “I wanted to. I can’t really do stuff yet.”
“That’s why I did it for you,” Ann said.
“I love you, Ann,” Calliope said.
“I love you too, dear,” Ann said. She paused. “Milo loves you.”
Calliope tilted her head to one side. “You sure?”
“I’m very sure.”
Calliope smiled. “I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe. If you’re here, is Milo here?” she asked.
“He isn’t always, but he is here now.”
Calliope smiled, but it was a somewhat different quality of smile. Maybe a little brighter. She peered into Ann’s eyes, as if she might catch Milo hiding behind them. “Hi, Milo.” She waved.
Calliope, I will kill all the nurses because they hurt you and they’re evil. Then we can set the hospital on fire.
“Milo says hi too,” Ann said.
“I think he’s mad about the nurses,” Calliope said, frowning.
“Well… perhaps he is a little bit, dear, yes…”
“I think we might get them all if we poison the coffee, but I can’t get to the coffeemaker. They said I can go home when I can walk to the bathroom, but the coffeemaker’s farther away…”
“I think you’d better just focus on the bathroom then, sweetheart. I think that’s for the best.” Ann hoped to set the subject of killing nurses aside. Milo was going over everything he knew about poison — which wasn’t much, thank goodness. “Calliope, I’d like to talk to you about Milo. Do you mind if we put Lucy to bed? We don’t have to, but…” She managed a laugh. “Well, this is all a bit difficult. For Milo and me.”
“It’s okay,” Calliope said. “I don’t mind it so much if she’s close. I can hold her again if she needs me.”
“That you can.” Ann settled her gently in the bassinet.
“Is it something bad?” Calliope asked her as soon as she looked up.
“No. No, dear.” Ann shook her head with a smile. She sat on the edge of the bed and laid her hand on Calliope’s knee, over the blanket. “It’s not bad at all. Milo really does love you, you know. And Lucy too. He’s worried about you. He wants you to be safe.”
Calliope nodded. “Em was worried too. He wanted us to be in the hospital in case anything happened. I guess we still have to, but as soon as I can get to the bathroom…”
“Milo wants to keep you safe after you get out of the hospital, Calliope,” Ann said. “Milo wants you to be safe forever, with someone to look after you. In case anything bad happens. Milo wants you to have money and a house and someone to help you take care of Lucy. Calliope… Milo would like to be married to you.”
“Ann… I have a house,” Calliope said.
Oh, no. She really should’ve skipped right to the marriage part. Calliope got distracted. But Milo thought the part about the safety and the money and the house was really important — and that Calliope might not say yes about the marriage unless she knew that. “Yes, dear,” Ann said. “I know you have a house. But in case something should ever happen to the house. You would have Milo to take care of you and you wouldn’t have trouble finding a new house with a baby and no job.” Ann touched a hand over her mouth. That came out a bit…
“I like Hyacinth’s house,” Calliope said, frowning.
And apparently it didn’t matter, they were still going over the house.
“Milo and I like Hyacinth’s house too, my love,” Ann said. “There’s not another place like it. You were very lucky to find it. If anything bad ever happened to Hyacinth’s house, so we couldn’t live there anymore, Milo wants to be with you to help find another place to stay. Milo wants to be with you and help you no matter what you need. Milo wants to be responsible for you. And Lucy.”
“I’m responsible for me and Lucy,” Calliope said.
“Yes, dear, you are,” Ann said. “I know you are. But you’re only one person. Milo… Milo’s job at the factory has a pension, did you know that? If something ever happened to him, you could have the pension to help you and Lucy. And if something ever happened to you, he could still take care of Lucy. It’s safer with two people to take care of her. Do you see that?”
“Does Milo think I can’t keep Lucy safe?” said Calliope, weakly.
“No. No, honey.” He did, but not like that. “It’s just safer with two. You’d have backup.” Ann smiled. “If you needed someone to threaten about hitting people to get Lucy back and you were too tired to do it, Milo could do that for you. And they couldn’t kick him out of the hospital because he’d be your husband. They threw us all out and told us they didn’t want us to come back because we weren’t family. I had to say I was your cousin. Milo could really be family.”
“Milo doesn’t threaten people, Ann,” Calliope said.
Ann laughed. “Oh, well, you know. Not in so many words. He’s able to get himself across when he needs to, you know that, darling.”
“Why would Milo do it instead of you?” Calliope said.
“Well…” Ann looked down and away for a moment. “You see, dear, the thing about the pension is, Milo would need to go full-time at the factory to get it. He wants to do that. And he thought… We thought… He ought to be Milo full-time too. For you and Lucy. So he can just be yours, and Lucy can grow up with a normal dad. You know, without any dresses.” Ann brushed at the skirt of her dress. “People can be sort of touchy about a man in dresses.”
“No dresses?” Calliope said. She sat forward. “No you, Ann? No you at all?”
“Not right away, Calliope, but… Later. Yes. Soon,” she added, firmly.
Calliope twisted the bedclothes in her hands. “But then what happens to you?”
“Oh…” Ann put both hands over her hands and tried to prevent her. “Nothing bad. No, nothing bad. I think… I think we would just go back to being one. We used to be one. We’re not really two,” she admitted, looking down.
“Did Milo used to talk to people and hug them and sing when you were one?” Calliope asked.
“Well… no… not really.” Milo wouldn’t even nod or shake his head at people when they were one. He grabbed things and ran away from people, that was about it. “But he’s a lot better now than he was, Calliope. And… and I think he would still be like me, a little.”
“Would he hold me and talk to me?”
“I… Well…”
“Would he look at me?” Calliope demanded, suddenly sharp.
“I think, if you could be very patient with him, in time…”
“When? In a year? Two years?”
“Calliope, I… I can’t…”
“So, Milo wants me to have money and a house and a husband who doesn’t talk to me or look at me or touch me or do anything about loving me, and he wants Lucy to have a father who can’t do any of those things for her. He wants me to live with a man who works full-time at a factory and doesn’t care about doing anything that makes him happy, or makes me happy. Do I have that about right, Ann?”
“I…” Ann straightened, “Calliope, no…”
“Oh my gods, Ann! Would he even listen to records with me if you weren’t there holding his hand?”
Ann flashed a sudden image, perfect and whole, like when Milo remembered the workhouse. Only this was a memory that hadn’t happened yet. Milo and Calliope, in a very nice house with a floor and a roof and everything, sitting ramrod straight on a delicate couch with brocaded silk cushions, their hands in their laps and their eyes staring at the opposite wall. Not talking, not touching, while Lucy played with a toy dog on a rug at their feet. No one would push them together. Milo couldn’t, Calliope couldn’t, and Lucy would have no idea a mommy and daddy were supposed to touch and talk to each other.
Oh, my gods, no. That’s all wrong…
“Calliope, no, please let me explain it. Milo only wants…”
… to make certain you never go to the workhouse. Milo grew up in a workhouse. He’s terrified of them. That’s why he’s so worried about keeping you safe. It’s not that he doesn’t care about making you happy, or himself happy, he’s just so scared…
She wasn’t saying any of this. Milo had nailed her tongue to the roof of her mouth.
Oh, gods, Milo, PLEASE, let me tell her! This is so important! She doesn’t understand why we…
Isn’t it enough that she hates me, Ann? Do you want her to PITY me too?
Ann’s mouth was making no words. Calliope was glaring at her with narrowed eyes that wanted to spill over tears.
“…Milo only wants you to be happy,” Ann said faintly.
“Milo wants me to be happy,” Calliope said. She sobbed and clenched both fists against her chest. “Milo wants me to be happy. Okay. Milo thinks I would like all that and it would make me happy. He brought me roses about it. That’s so nice of Milo.”
Calliope pushed to her knees in the bed. This was painful, but she could look Ann in the eyes that way. She peered into them again, looking past Ann. Looking for Milo.
“Ann, will you give Milo something for me, please?”
She drew back her hand and she slapped Ann hard across the mouth.
“Ah,” Ann said. For a moment she sat frozen. Then she clutched her purse and ran out.
The woman in the bed to Calliope’s right shook her head and scolded, “That woman made them give me back my son, Miss Otis.” She was holding a small white bundle against one breast.
“I’m not mad at the woman,” Calliope said. She sank back in the bed and buried her face in her hands. “No. No. I’m not mad at Ann…” She began to cry.
In the bassinet beside her, Lucy did likewise.
Liner Notes…
