The Baby Job

 

It's not what it looks like. Henry Goodman is not the father of the screeching baby flailing in his arms. That’s right, it’s another job. Mom is snoring loudly in the other room, taking a much needed slumber. He’s completely out of ideas as to what the baby could need. She’s been changed and fed but completely refuses to sleep. Henry strapped her to the bouncer and turned it up to the highest setting. It seemed to work because the baby was quiet, until he noticed the look of wide-eyed horror on her face. He stopped the bouncer and quickly picked up the baby, who then violently vomited all over his face.

The baby, whose name was Mona, scurried off on her hands and knees as Hank searched, half blind, for a towel. He pulled half the paper towel roll in a wad around his hands and wiped his face. To make matters worse, someone started knocking on the door.

“Mona!” He called looking for the baby who had gone silent again. (That’s never a good sign).

The pounding on the door increased to a level of violence that was now a little intimidating to open, but waking a sleeping mother is even more frightening. “Open the door!” demanded a muffled male voice.

Henry opened the door slowly with a shushing finger over his lips, but the man was not having it.

“Who the hell are you?” the irate man asked, but before Hank could answer, he caught a glimpse of the baby crawly quickly halfway down the hall.

…

A few weeks ago, Mr. Gilbert arrived at the hospital with a bouquet of flowers to visit the injured Henry Goodman. “A little birdy told me you were here. I had to come and check on my best finisher.” Gilbert Ruben Giordano walked the bouquet to Emma. “Ms. Daniels, you can keep these. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl.” He touched her cheek before walking over to the edge of the bed.

“About the wedding,” Henry began, but Mr. Gilbert interrupted.

“You, BOTH, saved those young people from a lifetime of misery and saved me from a very fragile and contentious business partnership,” he chuckled. “So I ought to thank you, Mr. Goodman. Maybe I should make you an advisor.”

“I’m fine with just doing the odd jobs here and there. No thanks necessary,” Henry tried to be as calm and friendly as possible, while he noticed Dusty edging slowly out of the room.

“You keep proving the tough stuff you’re made out of, Henry. You don’t ask too many questions, and you always get the job done, no matter how hard it is. I mean, look at you, in the hospital because you don’t quit. And you’re honest. A guy like you is hard to come by and could be very useful to a businessman like myself. I know I can trust you and I can’t say that about a lot of people. Get well soon because business is going to pick up real soon.” Mr. Gilbert bent over and kissed Henry on the head like a priest blessing a newly baptized baby. As he walked toward the door, he turned around like he had forgotten something. “Don’t worry about the cops getting in your business. I’ve got good lawyers. Take care of yourself Ms. Daniels.”

Emma waited for the coast to be clear and said, “What are we going to do, Henry? I feel like this is my fault for encouraging you.”

“Em, we are going to just keep on living life as if this was all normal. As the far as the police know, Mr. Gilbert hasn’t asked me to do anything illegal and I don’t know anything about the list. No one has anything on me. If I keep going on like this and try not to break any more laws, then I’ve got nothing to worry about. I mean, it isn’t the seventies anymore, right?”

“That is where you are wrong, amigo.” Dusty cautiously returned to the room. “I still think you should tell the cops everything you know,” he checked the hallway, left and right, before continuing quietly, “and take that mafioso S.O.B down. Do it for Raj.”

Henry looked down at his phone and said, “I’ve got to go. Shower Girl needs me tonight.”

“You sustained an injury, Splinter. Take the night off. Doesn’t she have a roommate in the evening?” Emma asked.

“Part of our agreement is that I’m on call if her roommate is out of town or at an event. If I hurry, I’ll have time to read Mr. Henderson a bedtime story.”

“Why these people pay you for these things is far beyond me! What kind of world do we live in?” Dusty was incredulous…again.

…

Shower Girl’s real name is Donna Sutherland, a finance student at the Stern School of Business at NYU who has been terrified of showering alone since her brother picked Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho for family movie night at the age of nine. This became a major inconvenience when she moved out of the house for university at age 20. Donna thanked God she had a roommate; however, her roommate was on scholarship as an athlete. This required early morning training, late night games, and traveling schedule. She would have to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to shower before her roommate left in the morning, though her first class wasn’t until 9:45. That was a minor inconvenience until she got a night class the following semester. Sleep is precious to a student but an insult to the professor.

It was then Donna realized that her major inconvenience was actually monophobia, which is an actual problem that may warrant psychiatric help, but who actually gets the help they need. Instead, she hired Henry Goodman Inc. to be there every weekday morning at 8 and on call for $100 a week. Thankfully for Hank, it was an easy $20 a day for fifteen minutes of work.

…

Henry arrived at her apartment and knocked on the door, which was followed by an assortment of chains and locks being unlatched on the other side. Donna opened the door, “I’m sorry to call you this late but…OH MY GOD!” Her hands covered her mouth. “Henry, what happened? Were you attacked?”

“Yes, but I got paid for it…it’s a long story, but I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad,” Donna caressed his injured arm tenderly.

“I’m good, I swear. I don’t want to make you late.”

“Okay, I’ll be quick, sorry.” She pulled up a chair from the kitchen and propped it up next to the slightly open bathroom door. There was something about knowing a safe person was in the apartment that gave her the peace of mind to enjoy her shower. “Normally I’d be going to class tonight, but I got an opportunity to shadow this big company CEO. They said I may score an internship with Sherry Alden! Do you know her?”

“Do I know her?” Hank was beside himself. It must be a coincidence. This couldn’t be Mr. Gilbert’s doing? “Everyone knows Sherry Alden. She’s a total boss.”

“I know! I’m so nervous. I better hurry. Don’t want to be late.” Donna jumped in the shower and started rehearsing how she was going to introduce herself. Normally she sings girl pop or 90s country songs in there, but this was a big deal. However, Hank was a little distraught to discover the odd jobs he believed to be completely separate and sacred from Gilbert and Company were converging. But what came first, the chicken or the egg? Or is it all coincidence? “Uh, oh. Henry, would you mind terribly fetching me a towel from the dryer?”

“I’ve got you.” He went to the stacked washer-dryer combo perfect for a New York apartment and pulled out a large solid royal blue towel. In the bathroom waiting, Donna was using the shower curtain as a shield over her breast. Her hair was soaking wet and dripping down her neck and shoulders. She held out an extended hand and looked at Henry with complete confidence and trust. Conversely, Hank wanted to play the old George Bailey trick with the bathrobe, but he couldn’t betray her faith in him. She needed a good man and Henry promised to be one, though he couldn’t deny a spark in the seconds between the towel exchange.

Donna did not wait for him to leave the room before wrapping herself in the towel. Although, Henry wasn’t sure what unspoken message that situation communicated. Is she just in that much of a hurry that she doesn’t care? Does she like Henry and want him to look? Or is she creeped out that he hasn’t left yet and will fire him immediately. The awkwardly silent glances and moments following were more uncomfortable than the sound holding his arm in a 90 degree angle across his chest. “Well, it seems like you’re all set from here. I will see you in the morning,” said Hank as he showed himself out.

…

                As Henry walked down the street toward Mr. Henderson's apartment, he noticed two messages on his phone. One was from Emma and the other from Kim.

Emma: Wanna watch Space Jam tonight? 🏀

Kim: Thinking of you tonight. Come over? 👨‍❤️‍👨

                Hank put his phone back in his pocket with some difficulty, not used to his left hand. Emma has been his best friend for as long as he could remember. She smells and feels like home, but she can never look at him the way Kim or Donna look at him. They want him in a way Emma won’t ever want him.

                He knows what he will get if he goes to visit Kim. It will be fun, and heaven knows he could use it, but she is temperamental like the wind. One minute she loves with tons of warmth, affection, and tenderness but can turn cold as ice in a second if she reads into something said…or not said. Besides, Kim is not my girlfriend anymore. He thought. To her, I’m just a glorified teddy bear to fulfill her needs and then I’ll be left behind with the throw pillows. Would that be so bad though?

Mr. Henderson, a retired half-blind veteran originally from Mississippi, listened intently to Hank’s dilemma over coffee. This coffee would have no effect on the old man, but Hank wouldn’t be able to sleep for the next four hours. “Listen Hank, I wish I was in your shoes,” Mr. Henderson chortled. “You’ve got the right kind of problems, but seriously, you just got to be honest with them about how you feel. That’s all.”

“I just don’t know if I can trust myself. Right now, I’m in the mood for Kim, but I won’t feel like that all the time. There will be times I’ll want the feeling that I get when I’m around Emma. I kind of felt both tonight with Donna,” Henry reasoned out loud.

“You’re just feeling hot tonight. What you doing with an old black man like me on a night like tonight? Nothing like a little ass whooping to get you hot and bothered,” the old man’s guffaw quickly turned to a concerning cough.        

“You’re good company, Mr. Henderson.”

“Money got a way to make people good company,” he coughed. “Look, you’re no good to anybody until you figure out what you want. Remember not to eat where you shit…or the other way around. You feel me?”

“I think I do.”

“Good, now read me another chapter of Sense and Sensibility.”

…

Half an hour later, Mr. Henderson was snoring in his old leather La-Z-Boy. Henry closed the book quietly, covered him with a thick woven blanket, and reached for the picture on the end table as he was about to turn the light off. It was a young Mr. Henderson in uniform with Mrs. Henderson. She looked at him with a sense of pride and adoration. He looked at her like there was nothing else in the world worth his attention. It was a perfect picture. He set it back down and flicked off the light.

Out on the street, Hank pulled out his phone.

Hank: I can’t tonight, have an early start tomorrow. Another time?

Kim responded with a provocative picture of herself in bed.

Kim: U sure?

Hank: I feel like grilled cheese 😋

Emma: bacon? 🥓

Hank: always

Emma: firing up the griddle 🔥   

…

About a week later, Henry Goodman was jerked out of sleep by his company phone before the sun had risen. Holding his frames to his face, the time on the microwave read four in the morning. He cleared his throat, “Henry Goodman Incorporated, how can I help you?”

“I need you to send somebody as soon as possible!” It was a desperate sounding woman with a crying baby in the background. “I will pay you a thousand dollars if you just send someone to help me for a few hours.”

“Text me your address and we will send someone right over,” Henry yawned and dragged his feet to the restroom to freshen up.

Her apartment was a little over walking distance, so he called an Uber and arrived shortly thereafter. He took the elevator up to the seventh floor and could hear the baby crying as soon as the doors slid open. There was crashing, yelling, and loud stomping. Could a baby be this much work? Henry thought as he knocked on the door. “OH, THANK GOD!” a disheveled woman answered the door. “Come on in.” It was surprisingly quiet when he entered the room.

“Hello, I’m Henry Goodman,” the place was completely upside down.

“Laura Paulson and that’s Mona.” She pointed at the sweet little baby who crawled into the foyer.

“I haven’t slept in days, like literally. My husband is overseas, and my mom had to fly back to Florida for a few days, so it's just been me and her. She is driving me crazy. Can you just keep an eye on her for like two hours, so I can take a nap?”

“Does she come with instructions?”

“She’s a baby. Just feed her, change her, and make sure she doesn’t die. I just fed her, so she should be falling asleep soon. If all else fails, strap her in her bouncy. It usually calms her down.”

“Sounds easy enough,” he replied.

Laura laughed maniacally as she walked toward her bedroom, “please don’t wake me up unless the place is burning down.” She ran her fingers through her mangled hair and felt something sticky. She smelled it with a repulsive reaction, but simply shrugged it off and went to bed. Moments later, mom was snoring, and it was just Mona and Hank looking at each other. The baby seemed to be content on her own, so Henry just took to cleaning up the Tupperware, baby toys, and wads of tissues all over the floor. As he cleaned, Hank peered into the living room to check on the baby. Mona planted herself in front of the TV watching foreign language educational cartoons.

It wasn’t long before the apartment was good as new. The baby hadn’t moved in half an hour, so Henry sat down on the couch behind her and played solitaire on his phone, occasionally looking up to make sure she was still there. After several good hands, he looked up and the baby was gone. “Mona?” he called quietly. Hank looked all over the apartment, but she was nowhere to be found. He checked the table, bathroom, fridge, cabinets, and bedroom. Suddenly the television turned off in the living room, but the room was empty. Looking behind the entertainment center, Mona had just pulled the TV cable out of the socket. She tried to put her fingers in the holes, but Hank quickly grabbed her. “No, no, no, no let’s not die while mom is sleeping.”

Mona’s lips began to quiver at being picked up and reprimanded by a stranger. Tears were welling up in her big round eyes. “Hey, hey it’s okay, Mona. Don’t cry, please. He tried all of the tricks that used to work on him. Slapstick comedy, singing, juggling, peek-a-boo, and all other sorts of humiliating things. Whenever he stopped, she would start sniffling and whining, so he’d try something new. By the time this little game was over, two hours had gone by. Henry strapped her into the bouncer and Mona fell asleep, though her mother sounded more like a snarling bear than a sleeping woman. Easy days, thought Henry as he got comfortable on the couch. Another hour of games on his phone grew boring and Shower Girl would be expecting him soon.

He called Emma for help. “What’s up Splinter?”

“Hey I need your help. I’m stuck at a job that’s going a little long and I’ve got Shower Girl at 8. Can you either take over my shift at Shower Girl or cover for me here?”

“Okay, this is a weird request, even for you.” She thought for a minute. “What do you have going on over there now?”

“I’m watching a baby.”

“Shower Girl it is. Send me her address.”

“Thanks, Em! You’re the best! I’ll let her know you’re coming.”

“You owe me a weird request now, Splinter,” and they hung up the phone.

Mom and baby slept for another few hours. Henry hadn’t eaten breakfast because he anticipated only being there for a couple of hours, but now it was getting close to lunch time. As quietly as a mouse, he rummaged through the pantry in search of anything edible. He grabbed a couple of oatmeal bars and a banana, nobody ever counts how many bananas there are. When he walked back to the living room, the bouncer was empty.

“How did she unstrap herself?” He wondered. The search began again. This time he could hear Mona giggling. She was playing hide and seek with him. He followed the sound of her voice, leading him to find her under the table in the foyer. She laughed joyously as he picked her up, now comfortable with him as a caretaker. She babbled and pointed toward the kitchen with a whine in her voice. “Oh, you must be hungry!” He sat her down in the high chair and rummaged through the pantry for baby food, but couldn’t find anything.

He pulled out what he thought babies around her age could eat, but she shook her head at everything. Mona was starting to get frustrated, and Hank feared she would start crying soon. He then phoned a friend.

“Shower Girl was actually really nice,” Emma greeted.

“That’s great! More on that later,” Henry replied. “What do you know about feeding babies?”

“Not much. I’d start with food.”

“Genius, Em,” he said sarcastically. “She doesn’t want anything I’m offering her.”

“Have you tried milk?”

“That’s right, babies drink milk! Thanks Em, you’re the best.” He got the gallon of milk out of the fridge and looked frantically for a cup as Mona was steaming up like a pot of boiling water. Henry thought his troubles were over when he served her the cup of milk, but she swatted it off the table. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces on the floor and milk covered the linoleum floor. That’s when Henry decided to phone another friend. “Dusty Ramirez speaking.”

“Dusty, I’m taking care of this baby…”

“I’m going to stop you right there. Why is anyone letting you anywhere near a tiny human pup? This is why you should find a regular nine to five like everyone else.”

“Now’s not the time for this Dusty. I need help.”

“I’m going to place you on a brief hold while I patch in an expert.” A few moments later, “alright my beautiful jasmine flower, take it away.”

“Hi Henry, this is Dr. Chang,” she answered with a giggle. “How’s your shoulder doing?”

“Oh, hi Dr. Chang. It's great, but I need help trying to feed this baby.”

“Okay, I’m not a pediatrician. However, I can probably help you figure this out. How old is the baby?”

“I mean, she is bald and wears a diaper. She crawls.”

“Okay so between nine to eighteen months. Are there any little Gerber bottles of baby food?”

“No, I checked the pantry already.” Henry leaned in close to the baby and asked, “What do you want, Mona?” She put her little hands on his chest. “Oh, I think she wants breast milk.”

“Check the freezer for frozen bags of milk. It will look a little like coffee creamer with a little yellow coloring.”

“Bingo! Why does it look like this?”

“The fat rises to the top after sitting for a while. Look for a cylindrical warming device where you can warm the milk and then give it to the baby in the bottle. After she drinks, you can try spoon feeding her mushy things that are easy to swallow like bananas or oatmeal.”

“Wow! Thank you, Dr. Chang.”

“Te quiero mucho mamacita,” Dusty smacked his lips to blow kisses.

“Happy to help!”

Henry put the bag inside of the bottle warmer and turned the knob to the highest setting. Then, he looked for a bottle to put the milk in. Mona watched him expectantly. The bottle was found, but the bag of breastmilk was melting in the warmer. He pulled it out and the breast milk spilled out all over the machine. Instead of crying over spilled milk, he filled the bottle with regular whole milk, and Mona drank it. While she was drinking, Henry cleaned up the kitchen.

He noticed her diaper was sagging and probably in need of changing. He picked her up and asked where the diapers were. She just giggled at him. He found a diaper sitting on the bathroom counter. After discarding the soiled one, he placed Mona’s bottom under the faucet and rinsed her off. He shook her off and dried her bottom with a towel hanging nearby. As soon as her little legs hit the floor, she crawled off, naked. Hank chased her around the apartment holding the diaper. He finally pinned her down and wrestled the diaper on. This was exhausting. He understood why the mom needed a break so badly. Mona’s face was suddenly bright red. “Mona, are you okay?” he asked before she released an enormous poop into her fresh diaper. He looked for another diaper and repeated the process with a little more of a challenge.

…

                It had been nearly twelve hours since he arrived, and mom was still sleeping. We now pick up where we left off in the beginning of this chapter. The baby had just vomited all over Henry’s face. Mona scurried off on her hands and knees as Hank searched, half blind, for a towel. He pulled half the paper towel roll in a wad around his hands and wiped his face. To make matters worse, someone started knocking on the door.

“Mona!” He called looking for the baby who had gone silent again. (That’s never a good sign).

The pounding on the door increased to a level of violence that was now a little intimidating to open, but waking a sleeping mother is even more frightening. “Open the door!” demanded a muffled male voice.

Henry opened the door slowly with a shushing finger over his lips, but the man was not having it.

“Who the hell are you?” the irate man asked, but before Hank could answer, he caught a glimpse of the baby crawly quickly halfway down the hall.

“Excuse me,” Henry pushed the man aside and ran after Mona, who had entered the closing elevator doors to the surprise of all the passengers. Henry watched the light change to the lower level numbers. Before the angry guy could grab him, Hank ran down the stairs to beat the elevator. The man followed him down the stairs, “hey, get back here!”

While this was happening downstairs, Laura, Mona’s mother, was just beginning to wake up from her baby induced coma. She looked at her phone in wide-eyed horror and shot out of bed. “Mona!” To her dismay, the door was wide open, and her baby was gone. She immediately phoned the police. “Hello, someone took my baby!” she cried.  

Hank jumped over the railing to skip two levels of winding steps. This helped him gain some distance between himself and the pursuer. A lady stepped out of the elevator holding Mona in her arms. “Oh, thank God!” Henry gasped for air.

“You need to be more careful with your baby!” she rebuked him.

“That’s not his baby!” yelled the angry man, evoking a unified gasp from everyone on the first floor. The lady held the baby away from Hank. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my cousin’s house?” demanded the angry man.

“My name is Henry Goodman, and I was hired to babysit Mona,” he explained, taking the baby back from the lady.

“Henry Goodman? I’m so sorry sir. I didn’t know. One of the neighbors called me and said some guy was with my cousin’s wife all day and hadn’t left. I thought she was cheating on him. Please don’t tell anybody about this, alright?” The man straightened Hank’s shirt out apologetically.

“It’s all a big misunderstanding. Don’t worry about it,” he assured him.

“My name is Vinny. If anyone gives you any trouble, let me know and I’ll straighten them out.”

“Thank you, Vinny. I doubt it will be necessary, but I appreciate it.” Vinny walked away with his head low and everyone else went about their business. “Did you just want to go out for a walk?” Henry asked Mona. “We can do that.” He took her outside to get some air, holding her tight now that he knew how fast she was. Mona was smiling and pointing at things with her unintelligible babbles. “See, this isn’t so bad.” He told her. A couple of blocks later, there were a bunch of cops speeding his way. They stopped in front of him, sirens blaring. Another handful were running toward them on foot. “NYPD! PUT THE BABY DOWN!”