<0025 The Scooter Diaries>
Rehearsal ended just before six in the evening.
Only then did Cynthia release the tension that had held her shoulders and wrists tight throughout the session.
The band’s three senior members exchanged glances as their youngest bassist let out a deep breath and set down her fretless bass.
Cynthia had kept up well today, too.
But in this band, keeping up was not enough.
From now on, she would need to assert herself more as a musician.
The three women nodded, as though confirming that they were all thinking the same thing.
Lydia moved the microphone stand against the wall and switched off the amplifier.
“Good work today, everyone. Cindy, you kept up especially well. Now, when you decide it’s your moment to step forward, you can worry a little less about what we’ll think.”
“Thank you. I’ll work on it.”
Lydia laughed at Cynthia’s solemn response.
“Still nervous, then. Cindy, this isn’t the military.”
“She’ll loosen up with time.”
Louise came to Cynthia’s defense as she closed the piano lid and stood.
Lydia nodded, then turned back to Cynthia.
“So, what would you like to do now, Cindy? Have dinner somewhere around here again?”
“I have a suggestion.”
Katty raised a hand. She had been polishing her trumpet mouthpiece with a dry cloth.
“Mei’s curious about the youngest member of the band. She wants to feed you, too. So, want to come over?”
Cynthia looked at Katty with wide eyes. Katty laid her freshly wiped trumpet in its case and grinned.
“Nothing fancy, mind you. We’ll just feed you whatever’s in the pot at home…”
“Kat, aren’t you working your wife a little too hard? She’s been looking after the children all day.”
At Lydia’s stern observation, Katty threw up both hands.
“That’s why I’m taking the kids tomorrow morning. Let Mei sleep in.”
“You mean that?”
“I do. At least enough for her to get more sleep than she did today.”
Katty turned back to Cynthia.
“Anyway, if Cindy says yes, I’m taking her home, feeding her, and putting her up for the night. So, Cindy? Ready to take the plunge?”
“Are you sure that would be all right? With your wife and the little ones there, I’m worried I’d be in the way…”
Cynthia fidgeted with her hands as she answered. Katty laughed.
“Not a problem. I’m more worried you’ll find it overwhelming. Our place is always noisy with the kids.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Cynthia answered with determination, and Katty clapped her hands.
“Okey-dokey! Let’s get going.”
When they opened the door and stepped outside, the air felt cool. It made them realize just how much heat had built up in the rehearsal studio.
The street was already dark. The rain had stopped, but water still dripped from the eaves, and the streetlights cast long reflections across the wet asphalt.
Katty strode toward her orange Vespa. With her backpack on, Cynthia hurried after her in small, quick steps.
Katty lifted the seat. Only then did Cynthia discover that the space beneath it was a storage compartment.
Katty took out a white open-face helmet and handed it to her. Cynthia pulled it down over her head. Katty adjusted its position, then fitted the chin strap.
She put on her own helmet and fastened its strap as well.
“All right. Let’s go.”
Katty settled onto the Vespa’s seat and slipped the key into the ignition. Cynthia approached awkwardly from behind.
“Um, I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before… What am I supposed to do?”
“Isn’t a scooter a little too casual to call a motorcycle…? Anyway, get on behind me.”
Holding the Vespa upright with both feet planted on the ground, Katty pointed to the passenger footrests.
“Feet go here. I’ve got it steady, so take your time getting on. Once you’re seated, hold on to me.”
“Y-yes.”
Cynthia awkwardly settled into the seat behind Katty. She placed her feet on the footrests, reached both arms forward, and held on.
Katty suddenly giggled as though she had been tickled.
“Um, you don’t need to squeeze my breasts quite that hard.”
Cynthia looked down at her hands. In her flustered attempt to find a handhold, she had grabbed Katty’s breasts.
Her face burned, and she quickly lowered her hands.
“Oh! I-I-I’m sorry!”
But she lowered them too far. Katty widened her eyes and teased her.
“And now your hands are heading for my inner thighs… Cindy, this won’t do. What a naughty girl. You’ll have to ask Mei’s permission before you touch me there.”
“No! That’s not what I meant!”
“Hahaha…! I know. Just grab my jacket at the waist. You can hold it tight. Better than falling off.”
This time, Cynthia carefully gripped Katty’s jacket at her waist.
Katty turned her head slightly.
“Good. Hold on tight.”
“Yes…”
“And we’re stopping at the store before we go home.”
“What?”
“We’re out of milk.”
Cynthia blinked inside her helmet.
Katty started the engine as though this were perfectly ordinary.
“This is what a professional musician’s commute looks like. When the jazz ends, there’s milk, diapers, and dinner waiting. Let’s go.”
The Vespa’s engine vibrated softly.
“Both of you, take care. See you tomorrow.”
“Kat, take it slow. No speeding.”
Louise had come outside and was waving. Lydia raised a hand in farewell.
Katty laughed as she lowered her visor.
“The Vespa can’t go that fast with two people on it anyway. See you all around noon tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow…!”
With Katty and Cynthia aboard, the orange Vespa began to crawl away, its exhaust giving a small, yapping rattle.
Out into the evening streets, where streetlights stretched across the wet pavement.
<0026 Welcome. First Time in a Home with Little Ones?>
Leaving the St. Claude area, the scooter headed west across New Orleans, staying below thirty miles an hour.
Saturday evening streets. Tourists strolled along, debating where to have dinner, drifting past on either side of the scooter.
Cynthia held Katty’s jacket at the waist and sat close against her, listening to the wind buffet the outside of her helmet.
It was her first time riding on the back of a motorized two-wheeler. Even at a modest speed, moving through the air without a cabin around her felt unfamiliar.
As they left downtown and continued west, the streets crowded with restaurants and tourists gradually grew quieter.
A roadside sign bore the name Metairie.
“Metairie…? So this isn’t New Orleans?”
Cynthia asked while they were stopped at a traffic light. Katty turned her head a little.
“It’s a bedroom community for New Orleans. Lots of people who work in the city live here. Mei does. So do I.”
The scenery passing on either side of the scooter changed to low storefronts, houses, and apartment complexes two or three stories tall.
Eventually, the scooter carrying Katty and Cynthia stopped in front of an apartment complex’s sliding iron gate.
Katty pressed the black remote attached to the Vespa’s key ring. A small buzzer sounded, and the gate slid open.
She rode into the complex.
In the surface parking lot stood the green vintage Fiat that Katty had complained would not start that morning. She parked the Vespa beside it.
Once the engine stopped, Cynthia climbed off awkwardly. Removing her helmet, she looked around the complex.
It was very different from the densely packed apartment buildings she knew in New York. The buildings stood well apart, and none rose higher than three stories.
Katty lifted the seat and took a plastic bag containing two cartons of milk from the storage compartment, then handed it to Cynthia.
After putting the helmets away, Katty checked her phone.
“The little ones are at the playground. They were just about to come in. Let’s go.”
Katty set off with an easy stride. Cynthia followed, carrying the milk.
The rain that had come and gone throughout the day had stopped by evening. Clouds still hung low in the dark sky, and the playground lights illuminated the wet ground and play equipment.
Beneath those lights were a little boy who had only recently begun to toddle and a little girl who seemed considerably more practiced at running.
An Asian woman gathering the children together raised a hand when she saw Katty.
Her eyes behind her glasses were tired, but her dark gaze was clear and bright as she looked at Katty.
Katty made a heart with both hands.
“Long day, Mei. Thank you!”
The little girl turned toward Katty and called out.
“Mei Mommy! Kat Mommy’s here!”
The boy toddled eagerly toward her.
“Mama. Kat Mama.”
Katty scooped up both children, one in each arm.
“My daughter, Hazel. We call her Hazy. And this is my son, Leo. Say hi, Cindy.”
“Oh… hello!”
Cynthia shook Hazy’s plump little hand and stroked Leo’s round cheek.
Then she bowed her head to Mei.
“Hello, Mrs. Lee.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Cindy. I’ve heard a lot about you. You must have had a tiring day.”
Mei shook Cynthia’s hand and smiled, her eyes weary.
‘You look like the one who’s done all the hard work, Mrs. Lee.’
Cynthia could not quite bring herself to say it.
“I’m the one who invited you today. When I heard you’d already been to the other band members’ homes, I thought it was time we had you over, too.”
“Oh…! Thank you for inviting me.”
“Come on in. I’ll get dinner ready.”
Mei led the way toward the apartment building with brisk steps.
“All right, kids. Let’s follow Mei Mommy!”
With one child in each arm, Katty followed her wife. Cynthia brought up the rear with the bag of milk.
While Mei stirred the contents of a pot in the kitchen, Katty took both children into the bathroom and put them in the tub, one after the other.
From the bathroom came splashing, little bursts of laughter, and Katty’s deliberately lowered voice.
“Eyes closed. I said, eyes closed. There, good job. Now tilt your head back. Back. That’s it.”
Cynthia stood anxiously outside the bathroom door. She wanted to help Katty and Mei, but had no idea what to do.
Peeking through the partly open door, she saw that the children looked small and slippery, while Katty handled everything with complete familiarity.
After a moment, Katty looked toward the door.
“Cindy.”
“Yes?”
“Here’s your chance to help us. Could you spread a towel on the living-room floor?”
Cynthia quickly fetched the dry towel Katty indicated and spread it on the floor. A soft foam mat already covered the center of the living room to cushion the children’s falls.
When she returned to the bathroom, Katty was holding Hazy, the older child, snugly wrapped in a towel.
“Think you can take her? Just support her bottom.”
“Yes. I’ll try.”
Following Katty’s instructions, Cynthia carefully took Hazy into her arms. Water dripped from the hair sticking out above the towel.
“Sit her on that towel and dry her hair a little.”
Cynthia carried Hazy into the living room and sat her on the towel she had laid out. The child was warm and small, with a body that seemed as though it could lose its warmth so easily.
After tucking the towel more securely around her, Cynthia used a dry corner to gently blot Hazy’s hair. She was afraid that rubbing too hard would hurt her.
But if she was too gentle, the water might remain. She worked with the same careful touch she used to handle an instrument.
Through the open bathroom door, Katty called out.
“Behind her ears, too. There’s still water there.”
Cynthia nodded and gently dried behind the child’s ears.
Hazy sat perfectly still, accepting Cynthia’s care without the slightest suspicion.
Up close, Cynthia could smell wet hair, warm skin, and baby soap.
For a moment, she forgot what she was doing.
It was not the smell she had expected.
Not diapers. Not spilled food. Not sweat.
It was faint and gentle, like the steam rising from a warm cup of green tea.
Cynthia’s hand paused on the towel.
Katty glanced out from the bathroom.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
Cynthia resumed gently drying the child’s hair.
“It’s just… she smells like warm green tea.”
Katty blinked, then gave a small laugh.
“Yeah. They do, right after a bath.”
“So this is… what people mean by baby smell.”
“You won’t be saying that when you change a diaper.”
Just then, Mei turned down the heat in the kitchen and came into the living room.
“Oh, goodness! Thank you. I’m sorry we’ve put our guest to work.”
Mei dried the remaining moisture from Hazy’s body and applied a thin layer of moisturizing lotion. After gently rubbing her little hands, feet, arms, and legs, she took a fresh diaper and neatly folded pajamas from the basket beside the sofa.
Cynthia watched with fascination as the practiced mother put the child’s diaper on.
“Hazy. Arms. Up they go!”
Hazy raised both arms above her head but waved them in the air for a moment, unsure where the sleeves were. Mei took one small wrist and gently guided her hand through.
Now dressed in her pajamas, Hazy sat down in front of Cynthia again.
Mei pointed to the hair dryer on the sofa.
“Could you help a little longer and finish drying her hair? Lowest heat and fan settings, please.”
“Yes.”
Cynthia tested the airflow against her own hand first, then moved the dryer gently, keeping it a little way from Hazy’s head.
Meanwhile, Katty wrapped a towel around Leo’s small body as he sat in the drained tub, then lifted him out.
Carrying him into the living room, snug in his towel, Katty said to Cynthia,
“Here. Have another cup of green tea.”
This time, Cynthia felt a little less nervous.
Having almost finished drying Hazy’s hair, she switched off the dryer and took Leo from Katty. She wrapped the towel around his hair and dried behind his ears.
Mei sat beside them, dried Leo’s body, and applied lotion.
“Leo, bottom up.”
Leo simply lay there. With practiced hands, Mei fastened his diaper and dressed him in his pajama top and bottoms.
Cynthia gently ran her fingers through his hair as she dried it, taking care not to direct too strong a stream of air at him.
Katty emerged after tidying the bathroom and watched them.
“That’s a major operation out of the way, Cindy. You’re officially our kids’ honorary aunt now.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“In parenting, that’s pretty high praise.”
Katty chuckled and tossed the wet towels into the laundry basket.