15

15

D ownstairs, Flora finds Jodi on the couch, feet tucked under the thick crocheted throw blanket. Zephie isn't here. Flora wonders if she's keeping her distance now that Jodi has arrived.

"I've become somewhat of a night owl," Jodi says. "I guess that happens when you get old."

Flora sits beside her and spots a mug on the table. "Or maybe it's because you're drinking coffee."

Her mother shrugs. "Caffeine does nothing for me anymore."

Jodi then returns to her task: trimming around her nails with cuticle nippers. As she pulls off the dead skin, she flicks it onto the floor below.

"So you're staying?" Flora asks.

Jodi looks up briefly. "Shouldn't I?"

It's an unanswerable question with a multitude of variables, and something deep within Flora resents that Jodi is putting the onus to answer it on her.

"Connor will be home in six days," Flora says instead.

"Okay, then I'll leave in five," Jodi replies.

"That's not what I meant…" But maybe it is what she meant. She knows Connor would not approve of her mother being here. Still, Flora brought this on herself. This is what she wanted—isn't it?

Jodi blows a small piece of dead skin off the clippers and looks at her daughter. "I'm here to help. But I can leave if that's what you want."

"It's not," Flora says quickly. Then, softly, "It's not what I want."

Jodi nods. She drinks her coffee and offers Flora some, who surprises herself by taking a sip. It's so sweet it makes her teeth tickle.

"Oh my God, that's disgusting," Flora says, laughing. "How much sugar is in that?"

"Four packs," Jodi says, then nods to her small zipper pouch full of artificial sweetener packets. "I never leave the house without them."

" Blech, " Flora says dramatically. "Your sweet tooth has gotten even worse."

"Or even… better?" Jodi smiles.

Flora notices how yellow Jodi's teeth have gotten. Her mother's health has clearly declined in the last few years. Jodi's head bobbles ever so slightly on her neck, like one of those dashboard toys. Her fingernails are brittle and stained. And then, of course, there's the eye twitch. Flora tries to ignore the incessant blinking, but it sometimes produces an involuntary tear that streaks down Jodi's face and leaves a trail in the makeup on her cheek.

"Are you okay? Health-wise, I mean?" Flora asks, but Jodi waves her hand dismissively.

"Oh, let's not talk about all that. We're here for you. Tell me about the labor."

And so, Flora does. She tells her mom the truth about the birth, nothing like what she told Wanda; this conversation is raw and honest. She laments the fact that she's still wearing diapers. She talks about waking in a sweat thinking she has suffocated the baby. She recounts hearing Iris's cries from across the house when the baby is actually fast asleep.

Still, though, she does not tell her mother about the activity cube, the return of her invisible friend, the trail of beetles.

She does not tell her she is afraid she's losing her mind.

That night, Flora dreams she is on a cobblestone street in Italy. The stones are large and smooth with fat spaces between them. The ground is a rainbow of grays. The alley is narrow, and the buildings are squished together like a charming accordion.

Her hands rest on her large belly. She is still pregnant. Connor walks with her. They are on vacation, filled with ease and hope and admiration for the unfamiliar world around them.

To their left, Flora spots a small shop with its door open.

"Should we go in?" she asks Connor, and he nods.

The shop is small, the walls lined with shelves of unique trinkets. Many are made from colorful glass, while others are miniature stone and wood carvings. As Flora and Connor look around, the owners of the shop appear. A husband and wife. They are short and squat, two-dimensional cartoon figures with eyes more like slits because their squishy faces are in perpetual smiles. Some level of Flora's consciousness realizes that the female owner of the shop resembles her own mother, Jodi.

The cartoon people seem surprised and satisfied that anyone has wandered into their shop. A young boy, their son, also a cartoon person, appears from the back room. At around the same time, Flora notices a baby rattle on the floor. It's a worn soft blue. Just a couple of feet from the rattle is a bunny-rabbit lovey, gray and sweet.

Something isn't right. A memory tugs at the back of Flora's mind. A fragment of information that feels vital but she can't quite place. Everything within her says to leave.

She gestures toward Connor, indicating that she's walking out and he should follow. He nods and starts after her. When she steps back onto the cobblestone street, Flora realizes what had been bothering her. Just that morning, she heard a news story. Babies around the neighborhood were going missing. She knows instantly that the toys she saw on the floor belonged to those missing babies.

Flora turns toward Connor to tell him about her revelation, but he's not there. Panicked, she steps back inside the shop to find that the cartoon people have magically turned her husband into a baby. He lies, swaddled, atop the large butcher block table in the center of the room, wailing. Flora tries to speak but has no voice. What have they done to her husband?!

They toss aside his little baby hat, adding it to the pile of paraphernalia on the floor, and the Jodi look-alike lifts baby Connor into the air. She summons her son, and then she proceeds to feed baby Connor to him like a thick sub sandwich. When the boy protests, she force-feeds him until baby Connor is completely gone, swallowed whole.

The boy licks his fingers. The Jodi look-alike smiles. Flora screams.