27

27

F lora wakes in bed with no memory of having walked upstairs. Her shirt is soaked with milk, her breasts so overfull that they have leaked drop by drop to form a massive puddle on the sheets. This tragedy would normally get a reaction from her, but right now she is numb.

The room is awfully quiet. No pelting rain, no crashing booms of thunder. She props herself up on her elbow and looks toward the window, but the curtains obscure her view. Her mother must have pulled them closed. Flora has been wanting to replace them. They were inherited with the house, and they are not at all her style: a dark gray with an ugly orange quatrefoil pattern.

She lifts herself with great effort, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She pauses here in the hopes of stilling the spinning room. Her muscles are stiff.

Her feet carry her to the window, where she slides the curtains to the far edge of the rod. She scrunches her eyes in immediate discomfort. The whole world is white. There must be two feet of snow on every surface. And it's still coming down, a wall of white dumping from the sky. Like a static screen on a malfunctioning television.

"You're awake," Jodi says from the doorway.

"Iris?" Flora asks.

"She's downstairs in the swing. I just left her for a second when I heard you walking around. It's adorable; she discovered the mirror on the mobile above her head. And the spinning animals. She follows them with her eyes." Jodi smiles.

Flora shivers, still wearing the milk-soaked shirt. "We must be low on milk in the fridge," she realizes.

"We're doing all right," Jodi assures her. "You don't need to worry."

"What day is it?" Flora asks. Her phone died ages ago.

"Connor gets back day after tomorrow," Jodi says.

Flora remembers her mother had said she would leave before Connor returned. But how can she in this weather? Jodi doesn't have her own car, and Flora assumes taxi services aren't running in the storm. They wouldn't have a way of calling one even if they were. Which means Jodi will be here when Connor returns. The thought punches Flora in the gut.

well she has been helping so he should be grateful

"Why don't you shower and come downstairs?" Jodi asks. "I can make you something to eat, and you can play with Iris while she's awake."

Flora nods in agreement and watches her mother leave. When Flora looks down at her hands, they strangely do not feel like her own. She doesn't recognize the lines on her palms or the curves of her fingers.

After she has showered, she ventures downstairs to find Iris content in the swing. Her small eyes dart back and forth as she follows the spinning mobile with her gaze. She looks healthy, her cheeks a rosy pink, her fingers gripping the strap across her chest. Her lips pucker around a blue pacifier with a hippo on it, and she sports an adorable bear beanie. That's when Flora realizes that the house is freezing. Of course, because the heat isn't working without power.

"How hungry are you?" Jodi calls out from the kitchen.

"Starved," Flora replies. Then she lowers her voice and whispers to the baby, "I'll be back, my love."

In the kitchen, Jodi assembles a sandwich with food left over from the delivery. She stacks it high with lettuce, bacon, and tomato.

The moment Flora sees it, her mouth waters. "Oh my God, I was just thinking the other day how much I wanted a BLT." Had she told her mother? She doesn't remember.

Jodi smiles in response and brings the sky-high sandwich to the table. When Flora takes a bite, mayonnaise squeezes out the sides, and she uses her right index finger to swipe it up. She licks the mayo with a satisfying smack and goes in for another bite. It's the best sandwich she's ever had.

Iris starts to cry. Flora thinks about getting up, but Jodi stands first. "Finish your food. I'll take her upstairs and feed her before her nap."

Flora swallows a half-chewed bite. "Thank you," she says.

Alone in the kitchen, she takes her time eating, tasting every ingredient smashed between the toasted bagel halves. The flavors are so strong, her taste buds so alive. It's like a sudden superpower.

three cracks of pepper two rotations of salt four thin slices of watery tomato

When she has finished, she wants another. She opens the fridge and grabs the bag of bagels, the remaining half of a tomato in a baggie, the mayonnaise. Just as she's about to close the door, she spots the pumped milk on the top shelf. Her eyes narrow in confusion. The pitcher is almost full. How is that possible? She hasn't pumped to empty in… a long time. She was planning to hand express after eating to make sure Iris had enough for the next couple of hours.

what has Mom been feeding the baby

Panic sets in. "Mom?" she calls out.

But no answer. And then another thought hits her: Jodi didn't prepare a bottle before leaving the kitchen.

she is starving her

Flora abandons the food on the counter and flies upstairs.

she wants to kill my baby

But when she reaches Iris's room, things are quiet. Calm. Flora enters slowly, not wanting to startle her mother. She just needs her daughter safe in her arms.

"Mom?" she says again.

Jodi has positioned the rocking chair closer to the window for a view. She sits with her back to Flora. "Shh," Jodi whispers, not bothering to turn. "She's getting sleepy."

Flora takes a step into the room. Then another.

"Did she eat?" She tries to keep her voice even and casual.

"I'm feeding her right now," Jodi says.

Flora seethes at the lie. A floorboard creaks under her foot as she gets closer to the window. But when she reaches the rocking chair, the air around her thins. She struggles to breathe as she stares at her mother in horror.

Jodi is naked from the waist up. Her skin is papery and flecked with age spots. Dry patches adorn her upper chest, and crusty scabs—warts?—dot her neckline like a chunky piece of jewelry. Her sagging, deflated breasts hang down to her belly button. And attached to her left nipple is Iris, who sucks and sucks, her eyes closing, her arms hanging by her sides.

"What are you doing?" Flora finally manages to scream.

"Don't shout like that!" Jodi whisper-screams back.

"Stop! Stop it!"

Flora lunges forward to grab Iris, but Jodi turns her body and uses her free arm as a defense. "She's not done feeding!"

"What are you talking about?" Flora is hysterical. "You don't have any milk, Mom! You're starving her!"

"Flora, you need to calm down." Jodi tries to shelter Iris, but the baby still pulls away from the nipple and cries. And, to Flora's horror, there on Jodi's huge, scaly areola is a bead of milk.

"It's called relactation," Jodi says. "It's perfectly natural."

"It's disgusting!" Flora retorts.

And suddenly, every bite of that delicious sandwich is rocketing up her esophagus. She brings her hands to her stomach, bends over, and vomits at her mother's feet. Pieces of bacon sprinkle the chunky pile.

"You're not well, Flora," Jodi says. "Iris needs to be taken care of."

"Yeah, by her mother, " Flora spits. She drops to her knees and dry heaves, her throat burning.

"You can't breastfeed," Jodi says. "Iris needs that bond. You're depriving her—"

"Get out!" Flora shouts. "Get the fuck out!!"

She tries to stand but slips in her own cold-cut upchuck. Her forehead smacks the armrest of the wooden rocking chair on the way down.

"Flora!" Jodi shouts, concerned. She jumps up and places a crying Iris in her crib before returning to Flora. She crouches down beside her, pushing Flora's hair out of the way so she can see the point of impact. "You're bleeding," Jodi says. A drop of blood lands in Flora's eye. She blinks, and the gesture is imitated by Jodi's bad eye twitching in response. "We have to check that you don't get—"

"You need to leave, " Flora spits through clenched teeth. "I'm serious! Get out!"

Jodi recoils and stands. She sighs dramatically before reaching toward Iris's crib.

"Don't touch her!" Flora shouts.

"I'm taking her with me," Jodi says.

Flora forces herself to all fours, pausing in a tabletop position. She burps and swallows back the nausea. When she stands, the world goes briefly black.

"Taking her where?" she asks, adjusting herself so that she's blocking the room's exit.

"Downstairs," Jodi says. "Where else?"

"You're trying to take my baby away from me," Flora says. Another drop of blood drips down through her eyebrow.

"If I don't," Jodi says, " they will."

"They who?"

"You're not well," Jodi says.

"Stop saying that!"

Iris cries in her crib. Jodi takes a step toward the baby, and Flora screams. It's bloodcurdling and makes Iris cry even louder. Jodi can't help but turn back toward her own daughter. She extends her arms in front of her in a stance of caution.

"I can take care of her while you get better," Jodi says. "No one else has to be involved."

"How convenient for you," Flora spits.

Her mother takes a step toward her, and Flora looks around for something with which to protect herself. But she's an island in the middle of the room.

what do I do Zephie where are you what do I do

And then she's reaching into her pocket for the birth tusk. She hadn't realized it was there. When did she put it in her pocket?

But she doesn't let the question slow her down. She holds up the tusk, wielding it like a weapon. The pointy end of the hippo's tooth could do some real damage.

thank you Zephie thank you

"I've been looking for that—what are you doing with it?" Jodi asks. Her eyes bulge and her feet immediately plant in place. "That thing is cursed."

Flora laughs a high-pitched, cackly laugh that even she doesn't recognize. "Cursed?"

"Flora, you don't understand. Listen to me."

Jodi takes three more steps toward her, and, as she does, Flora swears the birth tusk warms in her hand. Like an overworked cell phone, it has become hot to the touch. She tightens her grip anyway and extends her arm once again toward her mother, who looks scared.

"Okay, Flora," Jodi says, recoiling. "Okay. I'll leave, but only if you give me that tusk."

"Why?" Flora holds it in front of her for protection as she sidesteps away from the door. The two women circle each other like lions in the wild, each waiting for the other to make a move.

"Because it's dangerous. Just give it to me, and I will leave."

"Fine, take the fucking thing! I don't care! Just get out!"

Flora throws the tusk beyond her mother, out the door and into the hallway. Jodi turns and runs for it, fetching it like a dog, and Flora rushes to slam and lock the door behind her.

Finally safe, she returns to the crib and holds her daughter.

They both cry.