U Is for Undertow

haul it out and dust it off. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”
    “Don’t ring the bell. Come around to the kitchen door and I’ll let you in.”
    Fifteen minutes later Annabelle pulled into the driveway with Michael in his infant seat next to her, David, Ryan, and Diana in the backseat. She got the kids out of the car, opened the back of the station wagon, and grabbed the cradle by one end. She herded everyone up the drive and around to the back. Deborah was waiting and opened the door before she had a chance to knock. She put a finger to her lips. “Thank you so much,” she whispered.
    “Not a problem. Anything else I can do to help?”
    “This is fine. I’ll call later. You’re an angel.”
    Annabelle blew her a kiss and ushered her brood of kidlets back to the car. There was a delay while she got everyone settled.
    Deborah heard the car start and caught a glimpse of Annabelle pulling out of the drive. She jiggled the sleeping baby on one arm, using her free hand to carry the cradle into the living room. The thick drapes and wall-to-wall carpeting would muffle Rain’s cries if she woke. Maybe with rest Shelly would feel better able to handle the child. Annabelle had not only dusted the cradle, she’d tucked a crib sheet over the mattress and added a pile of flannel baby blankets at one end. Deborah lowered Rain into the cradle, shook out one of the blankets, and covered her. These were blankets Annabelle made by hand as gifts for the newborns among her friends. She also donated blankets to the nursery at St. Terry’s, along with knitted booties and caps, so every new mom, even those without money to spare, would have something warm for her infant to wear home.
    Deborah returned to her dishes, troubled by the conflict she could see looming on the horizon. She had never understood child abuse. She’d read occasional accounts of babies being shaken to death, babies being beaten and smothered by parents who lacked the patience or maturity to deal with their screaming infants. She’d even read of one young father who took his baby by the feet and swung her against the wall. Now she could see how such atrocities occurred, tempers simmering to a boil. She had no intention of leaving Shelly alone with the child, but she’d have a battle on her hands. Shelly hated interference, hated any action or comment on anyone’s part that suggested she was falling short. She also hated being mothered and hated being perceived as needy, which didn’t leave many options.
    Midafternoon, Deborah knocked on the guest room door and then opened it a crack. “Would you like some lunch? I can make you a sandwich.”
    Shelly’s refusal was scarcely audible.
    Deborah had nothing else to offer. She fixed a sandwich for herself and sat down in the living room and read a book while she ate. She fed Rain two more bottles of formula at three-hour stretches. Rain was actually settling down; her periods of sleep and hunger falling into a routine.
    Greg and Shawn came in at dinnertime, filled with talk of the zoo. Deborah had made a vegetarian lasagna and served it with a bowl of canned peaches and cottage cheese, not a dish she’d ordinarily serve. To her surprise, Shawn gobbled up everything on his plate and asked for more. With Shelly gone, the atmosphere at the table was actually pleasant. Now that Shawn wasn’t subjected to his mother’s running comments on the righteous way of doing things, he ate without being threatened or cajoled.
    After dinner, Deborah cleaned up the kitchen while Greg and Shawn remained at the table playing Candy Land. The two of them left at 8:30 so Greg could put Shawn to bed.
    Deborah said, “Why don’t you fill the tub for Shawn before he goes down for the night? I left a container of bubble bath and a stack of fresh towels in the pool house.”
    Shawn gave a whoop and was out the door before Greg could get up. He skipped down the steps and galloped across the grass. Deborah gave Greg a kiss on the cheek before he left. Moments later, she saw the lights in the pool house come on. She looked up at the ceiling. Still nothing from Shelly, who was probably too proud to ask for anything, having been so stiff-necked and belligerent to this point. Deborah left the lasagna in the oven. She laid out a plate, a napkin, silverware, and a brief note. If Shelly came down of her own accord, she could fill a plate and take it back upstairs.
    In the meantime, Deborah moved Rain to the sofa and placed pillows on one