Milo heard unhappy baby noises in the kitchen and winced. Aw, you poor kid.
Lucy was cutting teeth and that was no fun for anybody. There had been unhappy noises coming out of Room 103 when he left for work in the morning, too, but he couldn’t stay and help out. He had been picturing some nice quiet time in the basement designing Lucy’s new highchair with the radio on, but he’d take the baby for a couple minutes so Calliope could have a break. There were headphones if the screaming started to get to him, and if it really started to get to him, there was Ann.
Having an out was the most important thing when it was loud or scary. If there’d been a volume knob on the shelling during the siege he would’ve sailed right through. No problem.
Well, except for the shrapnel. And the fires.
And the gas. And the deprivation, but that wasn’t loud…
He folded his coat over the back of one of the nice chairs in the front room and presented himself in the kitchen to save Calliope.
It looked like Mordecai and Hyacinth had decided to save Calliope in his absence. Magic season, plus Chris and Kitty’s team effort, had rendered the kitchen and most of the house eerily tidy. Hyacinth was performing the function of the dearly departed Lu-ambulator and Mordecai was trying to convince Lucy that a spoonful of applesauce was worth eating even if it hurt.
“C’mon, Lu! I made it softer this time! Mmm, we love sugar! Hyacinth, for heaven’s sake, I can’t aim with you bouncing like that!”
“She won’t settle down if I don’t bounce!”
“Well, she won’t eat if I keep putting the spoon in her ear!”
Milo knocked lightly on the door frame. Hey, you guys. It’s me. I can hear you fighting in front of the baby. This is my disapproving face. Are you self-conscious enough to cut that out?
“Da!” Lucy exclaimed.
“Oh, Milo, you’re home, you try!” said Hyacinth and Mordecai, just slightly out of sync. They loaded him up with the baby and a jar of applesauce with a spoon in it.
Frowning, he put the applesauce on the table and held up the baby.
“Da-da-da!” Lucy said, smiling.
Milo regarded the brown eyes, button nose, and drooly grin suspiciously. Are you just telling me about your day, Lu? He turned her around. Tell Auntie Hyacinth.
“Ba,” Lucy said, and she stuffed her hand in her mouth.
He pointed her at the red man. Go any words for your Uncle Mordecai?
She did not.
He turned her back around. She flapped her arms like an exotic orange onesie bird and said, “Da!”
He passed the baby off the Mordecai like a casserole dish and walked out the back door.
“Milo!” said Mordecai, as the baby wound up for more crying. “What the hell…”
Milo knocked on the back door and peeked in.
“Da,” Lucy said, but poutily and with her damp lower lip protruding. Milo understood this as: Quit teasing me, Dad. It’s not funny anymore.
“Milo, do you want this baby or not?” Mordecai said.
Milo took the baby and went upstairs to his room, trailing syllables behind him, “Da, da, da, da, da…”
◈◈◈
Calliope was in the basement with the headphones on. She had decided against sitting on the cot or the stairs and was curled up on a folded blanket under the worktable, eating a banana. The space had been rendered somewhat more friendly and clubhouse-like, with throw pillows and a painted canvas on the brick wall. An iguana dangling from a tree branch reminded potential upset people to Hang In There, Lizard.
(“Copyright infringement,” Calliope had explained to Ann, while painting. “This is just cheaper.”)
A small plate with crumbs on it indicated the main course was over and the banana was dessert.
She winced when she saw Milo with Lucy at the top of the stairs, then took down the headphones with a brave smile. Lucy was chattering away, but at least she seemed happy. She was gnawing on a stack of white cards which Milo had stuck together and then frozen for her.
“Hey, babe. I was kinda hoping to finish eating,” Calliope said. “You need me?”
Milo nodded and came down the stairs. Calliope sighed, stubbed out her half-eaten banana on her plate like a cigarette and hauled to her feet. “I still love her and everything, but she bit me and Cin and Em said I could have a break.” She opened her arms to take the baby, but she wasn’t smiling.
Milo thought he noted evidence of crying. He shook his head and put Lucy against his shoulder. No, I’ll do that part. I’ve just been at work. I got room for more stress. Nobody bit me.
He would’ve put that in a card, except he didn’t know about that part. And he really needed Calliope for this other thing right now. If he had to, he’d give Lucy back to Cin and Em. He put his hand in his shirt pocket and handed her what he’d written: Calliope — Lucy is calling me “Da.” Are you okay with that?
Calliope pulled out her reading glasses and accepted the card. She made another smile. “Oh, you noticed that, huh?”
Milo nodded, wide-eyed. Yeah. Hey. Why the hell didn’t you tell me right away when you noticed it?
“I think it’s super cute,” Calliope said. “I wasn’t sure who she was gonna pick.” Cin and Em and Ann had all gotten “ma” and “da” a couple of times and they politely corrected Lucy’s assumptions. All of them gave the baby back to her and indicated that this was “ma-ma,” until Lucy said it back.
But Milo didn’t do that.
Okay, and Calliope might’ve been calling Milo “dad” and “da-da” behind his back for a few months. Once or twice. A few times.
She held Lucy up in front of Consumerism Emerging from a Can of Spaghetti to Shame Mankind, which Milo had posed for, and practised it.
Milo shook his head at her, pained. Calliope, don’t you… Geez…
Calliope needed an “Ann,” that was it. He wished he could share.
All he could do was hold Lucy against his shoulder and brush past Calliope to the worktable, to draw.
She peeked around him with her reading glasses on, to watch, and he shooed her away. No, let me say the whole thing. I don’t want you to guess.
“Ma-ma,” Lucy said, chewing.
“I’m not mad at you, Lu,” Calliope said. “It just hurt, that’s all. Mama gets tired.”
“Ma.”
“Ma-ma-ma-ma?” Calliope asked.
“Ma-ma-ma,” Lucy agreed.
Milo stepped aside and let Calliope look at the drawing pad. In pink pencil, he had done a vague adult-figure holding a blue baby, followed by a figure holding hands with a knee-high child-figure, then a chest-high child-figure, then two adult-sized figures hugging — the blue one was wearing a dress and a veil and about to leave with a third adult figure in a top hat. This entire progression was contained in brackets with “Da!” in quote marks written at the tip.
After a moment’s consideration, he leaned past Calliope and added an arrow, indicating a progression past Lucy’s presumptive wedding. He didn’t think they really meant “give away,” that was just how they said it, and anyway he wouldn’t let some other guy have Lucy all to himself.
Or girl, he thought. Or whatever, like Q at the club.
We will live with them and play with our grandchildren, he decided.
Milo…
He sighed and pushed up his glasses to put a hand over his eyes. I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel about it, Ann. I don’t really think that but part of me does, okay?
Please, just be careful.
Calliope had one hand on the drawing pad and was considering with her glasses perched at the tip of her nose. She took them off and looked up at him. “Oh,” she said. “‘Da’ is forever, huh?”
He nodded rapidly. Then he bapped her gently on the forehead with the heel of his palm. You would know that already if you were paying attention! I don’t like finding out Lucy wants me for a dad this way, Calliope. It’s not cute.
“You mad at me?” Calliope said.
He shut his eyes and shook his head. He stroked her forehead, then pressed his lips there and planted a light kiss. He shook his head again. I just don’t know how else to say it.
She frowned at him and indicated the pink figure, “It’s not just you, you know. I want everyone here to be forever. Lucy likes everyone. And I like everyone. You guys are my family!”
Milo shook his head. He drew a heart on the paper, touched it, touched his chest and nodded. Then he touched the word “Da,” he touched his chest and he shook his head again, crossing both hands in front of him.
“I wish the radio would talk for you,” Calliope muttered. “You love us but you’re not a ‘da’?”
Milo nodded.
“Do you want to be a ‘da’?”
Milo winced. He picked up the grey pencil, shakily. He sketched a quick puzzle — a heart-shaped one which was missing multiple pieces. He put a question mark beside it and then pointed at her and quirked a brow. Do you feel that way too?
“You’re still putting it together?” Calliope said.
He nodded.
“I guess I am too,” she said. She blew out a breath and sat down on the cot. “Let me think for a little. Don’t talk. On the paper, I mean.”
He nodded and put down the pencil.
“Da-da-da,” Lucy said.
Milo winced again, but he looked away so it wouldn’t show.
“I want everyone here to be forever, but I can’t sign a bunch of papers and adopt Hyacinth’s house,” Calliope said. “The way it is, if I gotta go, I lose all of you.”
Milo nodded.
“Oh, man, that sucks,” Calliope said. She pressed her hand to her mouth and began to cry.
Oh, no, thought Milo. She didn’t have to think about that when Lucy started smiling because she knows she gets to keep Lucy. He sat down on the cot and put his arm around her shoulders. Oh, man. Calliope is having a bad day, and I helped.
I’m sorry, Milo. I thought she must’ve known too…
Calliope turned her head and put her cheek against his chest. “I can’t marry everyone!” she said. “I was just worried about you, but I can’t marry everyone!” She pushed back from him, wide-eyed. “What about Chris? He doesn’t even live here and I know I don’t want to marry him. What if he wants a real job but it’s in Ansalem or something?”
Milo offered her the baby, which was accepted damply. He came back with the drawing pad and a couple random pencils. He took the green one and drew the back of a postcard with a stamp on it, then held it up to show her — not with much hope.
“It’s not the same!” said Calliope, hugging Lucy. “I know Lu isn’t gonna see him enough to start calling him ‘da,’ but I still want him around. He’s awesome! And I don’t want to just do postcards with you guys, I want her to grow up knowing you, and you help me with her, and my mom and dad… I want my parents to move to San Rosille!” she declared. “And Euterpe. Melpomene can stay at the cat shelter or run the school, he’s annoying.”
A little flag went up and Milo mentally pasted it to Calliope’s forehead: We are not being rational right now. This is about feelings.
Poor Calliope, he thought, as he smoothed back her hair. He was used to this stuff hurting. He had pretty much given up. Calliope had just looked down and noticed she was being eaten by an anaconda, and it was already up to her neck. I was kinda hoping it would just eat me and go away, but I guess it’s after both of us.
Lucy was too little, but it was gonna get her too if she hung around, Da or no Da. Hey, wait a minute. My family isn’t really my family. Could any of them go whenever they wanted?
Geez, Ann. Can we at least let Calliope’s parents adopt you?
I don’t legally exist, Milo. They’d have to adopt you.
…Only if Calliope doesn’t want me the way I want her and after it stops hurting. If it ever does.
Calliope stood up, holding the baby, and turned a slow circle. She couldn’t see everyone, not really, but she could feel a whole world out there, revolving around her and Lucy like the baby mobile with the clouds and the soup cans. Maybe like a whole galaxy. Some great big planets and some distant stars, but all of them defined by their relationship to the woman and the baby at the centre. Maybe just the woman, with the baby in a tight little orbit that was bound to widen in a few years.
The idea that a piece of her universe might fly off on its own and never be seen again set the whole model off-kilter.
She wanted them to stop turning. She wanted to freeze them all right where they were so she could keep them and curate them and visit them whenever she liked. This was her universe!
There isn’t enough fixative in the world, she thought.
…and they wouldn’t be able to breathe.
Did she try to link Lucy and Milo together so she could freeze him? And keep him for Lucy’s “Da” even if she decided she didn’t want him for a boyfriend anymore? Well, that didn’t work out, but I’ll see you tomorrow anyway, because Lucy loves you and you love her!
She shuddered and closed her eyes. Oh, Lu. That was kind of a shitty thing for Mama to do.
“I’m sorry, Milo,” she said softly. “I didn’t think you might get hurt. And I didn’t think Lucy might get hurt. I screwed up.” She shook her head and choked, “I just don’t want you to go, you know? I’m not sure how we’re going to end up, but I don’t want you to go!”
Milo put down the drawing pad and the pencils and wrapped his arms around Calliope and Lucy both. Of course, in doing so, he had just rendered himself mute. I really wish the radio would talk for me, too, Calliope, he thought. He lifted his head, then he twined his arm gently around hers and tugged.
“Upstairs?” Calliope said muzzily.
Milo nodded.
“If Cin and Em see me they’ll think Lucy bit me again.”
Milo shook his head. He put his arm around her shoulders and nudged her towards the stairs.
“Okay,” Calliope said. She rubbed her nose on her sleeve. “I guess there’s tissues upstairs.”
◈◈◈
Mordecai and Hyacinth crashed into each other responding to the sound of distress in the front room, and then an annoyed biracial monster poked its two heads out of the kitchen door above the baby gate.
Everyone was still a little wary of the baby gates since magic season. Just another one of many adjustments they needed to make.
Losing Maggie and the Lu-ambulator was hardest, but at least doing without them was temporary.
“Milo!” said the two-headed monster. Both heads regarded each other. They didn’t like agreeing on things. It made them feel suspicious. Am I really sure I want to blame Milo for this and not Calliope? thought each head.
She’s crying and he’s not, thought the red head with the white hair.
We gave him the baby and he gave the baby to Calliope, thought the blonde head with the blue eyes.
“Milo, we were trying to give Calliope a break!” said the red head.
“Did you even let her have lunch before you prodded her back into being a mom?” said the blonde head.
“It’s cruel to make her do this all by herself!” said both heads, more or less. “She doesn’t have to…”
Milo glared at them, scowling. Hey, you dummies, I’m helping so much the baby picked me for a dad, so how about you just can it?
Both heads independently decided to stop talking for a second.
“It’s not Milo’s fault,” Calliope said tearfully. “I just want to suffocate every last one of you so I always know where you are!”
“Da-da-da-da-da!” Lucy added, stretching out a pudgy hand. She was kinda getting sick of the crying. Milo took her and tightened his arm around Calliope’s waist.
Da, Mordecai thought. It all fell into place, as if someone just hucked an entire lettuce at the wall and it had landed in a bowl as a perfectly tossed salad, with dressing. Amazing. And so simple I really should’ve figured it out before now! “Hyacinth,” he said.
Head Number Two had decided Calliope’s incoherence was also Milo’s fault. “Milo, for gods’ sakes, give us back the baby and let Calliope…”
Mordecai covered her mouth with a hand. “Hyacinth, this is nothing to do with us, let Milo deal with it.”
Milo nodded at him in passing and cast a glare back at Hyacinth. Did you baby-proof the house and invent a self-cleaning diaper to help Calliope, Cin? You did not! I’m a way better Da than you!
(Hyacinth helped build the Lu-ambulator, but he helped do that, too, and the other stuff, so he won!)
“I want to marry you guys too!” Calliope insisted, but Milo was walking with her and he didn’t let her stop to explain.
Milo, Calliope and Lucy vanished into Room 103 and closed the door.
The blonde head regarded the red head. “I don’t trust your judgment, tell me what’s going on and I’ll make my own decision.”
Mordecai opened his mouth and almost said, Lucy decided she wants Milo and Calliope to stay together before Milo and Calliope got done deciding that, and neither of them is ready to deal with it.
He almost said it. Then he didn’t. He shut his mouth and reset.
“No,” he said. “It’s too important. I don’t trust them, either, but I can pretend I do and you can’t. You sit in the kitchen, I’ll make coffee, and we’ll give Milo and Calliope until we’ve finished the pot before we run in there and make sure they haven’t screwed it up.”
“Screwed what up?” said Hyacinth.
Mordecai laid a hand on her arm and pulled gently. “Come drink coffee and badger me with questions and give Milo and Calliope a chance.”
◈◈◈
Calliope’s bed was a stirred mess of covers and pillows, which had been abandoned after the biting. Miss Kitty and Polka Dot Lizard were sharing the white-painted wicker rocker. The cow skulls and the dead horse, which Calliope had added to touch up the dingy places, were not visible, but Milo knew they were there. The kids had snipped a pink ribbon from one of his and Ann’s nighties to make the dead horse a little friendlier.
He didn’t help Calliope decorate the furniture even when she asked because he was too afraid of messing it up. When she moved in he hid for a week, and he didn’t fix her big window so it would break but not hurt anyone. She was a little mad at him for hiding, but she gave him and Ann a flower and let him do the window and she was super nice, even when he stole her chalk pastels and used them all up.
He guessed those were Calliope’s flowers on his wall upstairs, even if he drew them. He also had her collage with the shoe in the closet, and the glitter flowers she made for Yule, and a whole bunch of art supplies in lots of colours.
Hyacinth had constructed Calliope’s window most recently with a star and a haphazard rainbow — Calliope redesigned her window every time someone broke it and Hyacinth built it for her.
The paper signs and decorations from Calliope’s welcome home were still up, but she had rearranged them. Except the one Barnaby messed up so it said stainratlugnoco, she liked that one just the way it was.
There were instant photos from Sanaam’s camera of Lucy and everyone else in the house. The odd one out was in colour and still moved — Ann, Calliope and Chris crammed into a photo booth and holding up an excited-looking stuffed raccoon with a rhinestone collar. (There was another from the same strip tucked into the frame of the mirror in Room 201.)
The painting with the lobster glued to it was on the wall over the bed, and Milo intellectually knew the General had done that for her, like she cleaned out the room and got rid of the smell, but it was kind of hard to believe.
There were a few drawings of dead pigeons up, too, and Mordecai’s no-eggs chocolate cake recipe on a lined card with glitter residue.
The painting of Ann pretending to be a saloon girl was still in progress, with a few sketches clothespinned to the canvas around it.
Milo frowned at the room. There’s not a lot of me in here. I fixed the house and the diapers, but I don’t give Calliope stuff.
The Lu-ambulator was dead and he hadn’t built another one yet.
I gave Lucy Miss Kitty and Polka Dot Lizard and Ducky, Milo thought. Where’s Ducky?
Ducky was on the floor by the record player.
Oh, there I am, Milo thought. The blue Bakelite case said CalliopeFair on it, he had painted that with her enamels to be funny.
And because she might notice it and like it and come talk to him.
The paper frog he had folded for her was stuck to the top of the case. She’d stained him green with watercolours and added googly eyes, but it was basically his frog, like the flowers on his wall were Calliope’s flowers.
That’s my wallpaper too, he noted. Calliope took it down after she read everything he had to say, it was a big piece of paper, and then she helped him put stickers on it. He guessed she put it up again and he hadn’t noticed. There was a lot on the walls and she moved it and changed it around all the time, it was kinda hard to notice individual things on the walls.
Consumerism Emerging from a Well to Shame Mankind was still up. He posed for that, even though she made him look like a businessman. She wanted him to put cooking oil in his hair and he was okay with that, although Ann wasn’t. After.
That’s my housedress dancing with her trench coat on the wall by the door, he decided suddenly. It has flowers just the same. I don’t care if it isn’t really, I want to pretend and that’s more important than really.
But do I want more of me in here? he thought. Do I want so much of me in here we can’t figure out which is my stuff and which is her stuff anymore, and it’s just ours? Like Lucy thinks it already is?
Yeah, he thought sadly. But only if Calliope wanted it that way too. That was the only thing stopping him, but he’d stay away forever if that was how she wanted it. Or just be friends, even if that hurt. Calliope got to pick. He’d known what he wanted… Probably since she was okay with him stealing her chalk pastels. He didn’t know what it meant until after she had Lucy and he thought he might lose her — and he really screwed that up — but he’d known he wanted it.
He put Lucy in the bassinet and gave the soup can mobile a spin for her. Maggie had fixed it so it went practically forever on just one push and Erik had cut out the clouds and the stars.
Calliope stared at the mobile and sniffled quietly. Her hand came up and wanted to stop the spin, but she forced it back down again and shook her head to herself. That’s what it’s for. It doesn’t work if it can’t move.
She also surveyed the additions her auxiliary family had made to her room, but she felt all of them were too small. She’d barely been here a year. Lucy wasn’t even going to remember all this awesome stuff, no matter how much she smiled at everyone and what names she wanted for them. Calliope didn’t just want their pictures and presents and things, she wanted them on her walls.
But, again, that would mean killing them, and they were no good that way.
Wabi-sabi, she thought. That was another philosophical thing, like yin and yang, and ma.
Nothing lasts, nothing is finished, nothing is perfect.
Her expression twisted into a bitter frown. Screw nothing. Who wants nothing? Nobody, that’s who. Nothing and Nobody can go be friends with the philosophers back in Wakoku.
Everything goes away, everything changes, everything is a goddamn mess.
I want everything. I love everything.
She sobbed. But it really hurts.
She didn’t know how to make it stop hurting so she could love everyone and be happy while they were still here, together. Maybe everything went away, but it sure didn’t seem like this pain ever would.
Attachment is suffering, she thought.
Man, when you really need religion it’s not there unless you work on it when you don’t need it. Somebody really needs to get in there and fix that!
Milo had picked up her record player by the handle. He smoothed out the blankets and set it in the middle of the bed. Calliope grabbed a tissue box and then sat on the bed, in the established position. They hadn’t listened to records together in a while. The radio had headphones, which was fun, but more of a one-person experience.
She drew up her legs and put the tissue box in her lap, removing several. They popped up like eager little ghosts, ready to drink her sadness and then get crumpled and thrown away.
“This is a box of masochists,” Calliope said thickly. “I’m gonna start calling it that.”
Milo paused with his hand in the record player’s cubby. He shrugged and nodded. Okay, I’ll just remember that word means “tissues” if you use it again. Now was not the time to be asking for reasons or explanations.
He pulled out multiple handfuls of records and laid them out on the bed. He wasn’t sure which he wanted. A lot of them were close, but not exact.
He paused with a hand hovering over “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough,” before rejecting it and setting it aside. In context, that was creepy and not what he wanted to say. There wouldn’t be a mountain high enough if Calliope decided she wanted him, but they weren’t there yet. Until then, all it would take to keep him from her was the word no.
He finally selected “Never My Love” by the Association and set it on the turntable — carefully, because the B-side was “Requiem for the Masses” and nobody wanted to hear that. “Requiem for the Masses” was awful. Even Calliope didn’t like “Requiem for the Masses.”
He double-checked the label to make sure he was indeed using the right song, then he flipped it around to show Calliope and tapped his finger on the title. That was the answer. He put it on the turntable and played it so she’d know he had the right question. I think you’re scared I’m going to get tired of you and leave, Calliope. I’m never going to do that.
Also, he loved her. That too.
Calliope stopped sniffling and put down her crumpled masochistic ghost. She lifted the needle and reset it, she wanted to hear the whole thing from the top.
Never my love. Never my love…
When the lyrics grew faintly scolding and reminded her he’d already offered to spend his whole life with her, Milo winced and shook his head reflexively. The Association were not wrong, but he forgot about that part of the song and he didn’t mean to bring it up that way. He lifted his hand, maybe to stop the record, maybe just to protest, but Calliope covered it with hers and pushed it back down. She held it on the bed in front of the record player for the rest of the song, even though the Association didn’t have much else to say.
Never my love. Never my love…
The needle popped up and there was quiet for a time.
“You mean that?” Calliope said.
Milo nodded.
Calliope smiled tearfully and leaned over the record player to hug him. “I know you can’t promise for everyone and maybe you can’t even promise for you, not really, but it means a lot. I don’t know what we’re going to be for each other, but I want you in my life. Our lives. That’s why I let Lucy call you ‘Da’ and we practised it.”
Milo put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back gently to frown at her.
She gave a weak little laugh and shook her head. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t realize how selfish that was until you told me. I won’t keep doing it if you don’t want. But if you were gonna stay forever anyway, I think you’d be a really good Da. And you can take Lucy to the Natural History Museum and tell her all about the dinosaur, no matter how you and I decide we’re going to spend our forever.”
Milo nodded so hard his glasses almost fell off. Calliope pushed them up for him with a snicker. “You can take Lu to the Natural History Museum no matter what she calls you,” she promised. “But what do you think about Da?”
Milo set Calliope gently back on the bed, patted her once so she’d stay, and then approached the bassinet. He leaned down and waved at Lucy.
Lucy waved back and said, “Da!”
Milo smiled at her. When he looked up at Calliope he was still smiling, and he signed her a thumbs up.
“Awesomesauce,” Calliope said.
