Death Before Facebook

close enough to pick her up, which only made the baby scream louder.
    Once she had her, what to do?
    She needed a drink desperately. She had already taken some Valium, but to no avail.
    Holding the screaming baby, she went through her cabinets. There was wine, but she didn’t need something she had to sip to get a buzz—she needed something she could toss down.
    Coke! There was some coke some guy had left. Now where the hell was it?
    She put Caitlin down and let her scream while she found it.
    She made herself two neat little lines, thought about leaving one till later, and changed her mind.
    She went back to find the baby, noticing the screaming was tolerable now. She could feel love. Behind all her frustration and sadness, her love for her daughter had been lurking all along, and now she could feel it.
    She sensed the change in herself, heard her voice smooth out, become lower, and saw with gratitude that Caitlin responded. Now the baby came toward her, arms outstretched. Gladly, Lenore enfolded her, happy that children were so forgiving.
    “You want me to read you a story?”
    Caitlin nodded.
    Lenore got out one of her pop-up books, and they were soon in sync, laughing and having fun as if nothing had happened. When it was over, Caitlin said, “Read me another, Mommy.”
    “It’s time for your bath, honey.”
    “Please, Mommy?” She looked so sweet, so absolutely adorable and innocent, yet somehow so alert, that Lenore couldn’t resist.
    “Okay, but after this, we’ll do your bath and then bed.”
    “Okay, Mommy.”
    “You’re too adorable, you know that?”
    “Umm-hmm.”
    Lenore found another book and began to read, something about a baby duck that got separated from all its little sisters and brothers, a more complicated book, and Caitlin kept interrupting.
    She pointed to a picture at the bottom of the page. “What’s that, Mommy?”
    “That’s a dog, honey.”
    “Why is he… why he is…” She was stuttering in that way kids have. “Why is he…”
    “Caitlin, spit it out.”
    Her daughter stared at her again. Before she had a chance to cry, Lenore said, “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to snap. Would you wait one second for Mommy?”
    Another little toot is called for. Just one more and she’s in bed and I’m okay.
    She had two more, but when she came back, Caitlin seemed to have lost interest in the book. “Mommy, could we read another one?”
    “Honey, you said we’d go to bed when you finished that one.”
    “But we didn’t finish… we didn’t finish… we didn’t finish… it.”
    Can I make it through one more?
    Oh, sure, I’ve got a second wind.
    So to speak.
    “How about the one about Rhiannon?” She had actually found a children’s book about a good witch, no small feat.
    “Okay.” Caitlin put her thumb in her mouth, a sure sign she was getting sleepy.
    They were nearly through the book when she started interrupting again. “Why is she… why is she… why is she… a witch?”
    “Because that’s her job, honey.”
    “Why is it… why is it… why is it… her job?”
    “You know how I’m a bead lady? And Auntie Kit’s a nurse? Everybody has a job to do.”
    “What’s a job?”
    Lenore closed the book with a thud. “Oh, Caitlin, for heaven’s sake, you’re not interested in the book.”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “Come on, we’re going to go take your bath.”
    “No!” She stamped her foot.
    Lenore got up and started the bathwater. She went back for Caitlin.
    “Come on, baby.”
    “No!”
    Lenore felt a surge of rage travel up her spine. “You come here, young lady.”
    Caitlin stared at her, unmoving.
    “You get in that bathroom.” She was screaming again.
    Caitlin set up a howl.
    “Come to me!”
    Caitlin lay down on the floor and howled louder.
    “You’re going if I have to drag you.”
    Lenore grabbed her by the arm and began dragging. Caitlin caught a table leg and held on.
    “Let go, Caitlin, dammit, let go.” A tiny fat figure came crashing down—a little Venus of Willendorf.
    “Goddammit, Caitlin!” Furious, Lenore pried the child’s fingers loose, dragged her into the bathroom, and commanded, “Stand up!”
    Caitlin didn’t.
    “All right, you’re going in that tub with all your clothes on.” Lenore tossed her in and held her head under the still-running faucet. The water scalded her hand.
    Caitlin screamed louder than ever.
    “Oh, my baby, oh my poor baby!” Lenore jerked her out of the tub, grateful she hadn’t