The Moment Keeper. Buffy Andrews

smiles. “Yeah, and pretty soon we’ll have it all here.”

      “Gotta celebrate the milestone, Liz.”

      Tom shakes the fuzzy white tooth and it rattles. “Lookie what Daddy has, Libby Love.”

      He walks over to the playpen and picks up Olivia. He shakes the tooth and Olivia laughs. Slobber slides down her chin and onto her pink bib embroidered with “Daddy’s little girl”. Tom gives Olivia the rattle and she shakes it and giggles. As always, Elizabeth snaps photo after photo. Her camera and video recorder are never far from her.

      “Where are you going?” Grandma asked Matt.

      “Out.”

      “Out where?”

      “Just Out.”

      “Matt, this has got to stop. Drinking every night. Your grandfather died a drunk and I swore I would never bring up a child in the same house as a drunk.”

      “I’m not a drunk. I just need to get away at night.”

      “Then go to the gym instead of that bar. It’d be better for you.”

      “My friends are at that bar.”

      “Friends? You call them friends?”

      “Yeah. Friends.”

      “They’re losers, Matt. A bunch of deadbeat dads and worthless husbands. If Sue were alive she’d…”

      Matt whipped around. Fire-engine red flooded his scrappy unshaven face. He hammered the air with his arm, using the movement to emphasize his words. “Don’t. You. Ever. And I mean never. Bring Sue up. She’s gone. Died and left me with her.”

      He pointed to me in the playpen.

      “Don’t blame Sarah for Sue’s death, Matt. That little girl is the best of both of you.”

      “Well, then take her. Celebrate her first tooth and leave me the hell out of it.”

      Matt walked out the door and Grandma picked me up and held me and cried me to sleep.

      “Are you sure you want to go out tonight?” Elizabeth asks Tom.

      “We haven’t been out alone since we got Libby. As much as I love her, I want to take you on a special date. Don’t worry. Your mom knows what to do.”

      Elizabeth hugs Olivia before putting her in the playpen so she can finish getting ready.

      “Do you think I’m getting fat?” she asks Tom, turning around in the black silk dress she bought at the new boutique by the bank.

      “Yeah, as a matter of fact I was just thinking how much you’re starting to resemble a pregnant hippo.” Tom laughs.

      Elizabeth picks up the hairbrush on her vanity and throws it at him. “I’m serious. Do you think my butt’s getting fat?”

      “No, Liz. Your butt’s beautiful.”

      “What about my thighs?”

      “They’re perfect, too.”

      “My boobs?”

      “Not that I wouldn’t mind it if they were fatter, er, bigger, but they’re the same size they’ve always been. And they’re perfect.”

      “There has to be some part of me that’s not beautiful or perfect,” Elizabeth says.

      “Well, now that you mention it, you do have a little wiry hair that grows out of that mole beside your lip that looks a little witchy. Sometimes, I just want to pluck it but I’m too scared to touch it. I think it might attack me.”

      Elizabeth chases Tom around the room and wrestles him to the ground and Libby starts to cry.

      “You’re making her cry,” Tom says.

      The bell rings.

      “Lucky for you, Mom’s here,” Elizabeth says.

      Tom opens the door and Cindy walks in carrying her bag of knitting supplies.

      “There’s my little princess,” she says, putting her bag on the antique cherry table.

      She takes Olivia from Tom. “It’s just me and you tonight, my little Libby Love.”

      Elizabeth walks into the room wearing her new dress that showcases her hourglass figure and endless toothpick legs.

      Tom whistles.

      Cindy smiles. “You look like a million bucks, Liz.”

      “Thanks, Mom. Are you sure you know what to do?”

      “Liz. I had five daughters. I think I know what to do. Quit worrying. Go out with your husband and have some fun. Just because you’re parents doesn’t mean you stop being a couple.”

      “I know, but…”

      “But nothing. Libby and I will be fine. Now go.”

      Elizabeth sees the knitting bag on the table. “What are you making now?”

      “Oh, just another sweater for Libby.”

      “But you already made her two.”

      “Well, I decided she needed another one. This one’s a pretty green. Oh, and I’m also knitting her some hats. Found a pattern with this cute flower in the front that I think she’ll look adorable in.”

      Elizabeth smiles and kisses Libby then her mom. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

      She takes a couple of steps then turns around. “Mom, is there a hair coming out of this mole beside my mouth?”

      Elizabeth sticks out her head and tilts her chin so her mom can examine the mole.

      “I don’t see any hair. Who said you had a hair? Did you see a hair?”

      Tom laughs and Cindy looks at him. “Don’t tell my daughter she has a hair coming out of her mole because we will never hear the end of it. Now go and have some fun.”

      “Which one do you like better?” Grandma asked me. “The pink or the purple?”

      A baby me sat in the seat of the blue plastic shopping cart, looking at the two bolts of fabric in Grandma’s hands.

      “Ma. Ma. Ma.”

      “That’s right. Grandma’s right here. Would you like Grandma to make you a pink dress or a purple dress?”

      “May I help you?” a saleswoman asked Grandma.

      “Yes, please. I’ll take this pink and purple, oh, and why not, that yellow.”

      Grandma pointed to the pale yellow fabric behind her. “I can’t decide so I’ll make her all three.”

      The saleswoman smiled at me. “She’s an absolute doll. Is her hair naturally curly?”

      “Yes, just like her mother’s.”

      “You’re a lucky little girl,” the saleswoman said to me. “I wish I had someone to make me dresses.”

      The saleswoman got the fabric for Grandma and we headed for checkout.

      “Next on our list, Sarah, is to get you a coat.”

      “Ma. Ma. Ma.”

      Grandma picked me up and put me in her dented Chevy sedan and we pulled out of the discount department store parking lot and headed for the Goodwill store.

       Chapter 4

      “That’s it, Libby. Pull yourself up. Good girl. Now come to Daddy.”

      I watch as Tom coaxes Olivia, who’s holding onto the edge of the cherry coffee table,