Mother Gets a Lift Read Online Free PDF Page A

sleeve. Then I used the only weapon at my disposal, the diaper bag. I hit him with it. He went down with a solid thunk, covered by the contents of the bag—bottles, diapers, baby clothes, and, most unfortunate for him, some used diapers Fred had tucked into the bottom.
    “Help. I’m being gassed.” The ersatz plastic surgeon rose to his knees and began vomiting.
    “Hold your noses,” I warned Estevez and his men. Estevez signaled several of his bolder men in. They held their noses and handcuffed the doc.
    I ran back into the clinic in time to see Mom’s eyes open.
    “Thank goodness.” I wrapped my arms around her.
    “So how do I look?” She fluttered her eyelashes.
    *
    Mom was furious at all of us. She waved off Estevez’s comment that she’d been very brave. “If you’d waited another few minutes I could have gotten what I deserved.”
    I thought about replying to that, then decided I was being ungracious.
    “But, Madam,” said Estevez, “we made the case because of you.”
    “Oh, who the hell cares. Look at me! I’m a mess.” She held a tiny compact mirror up to her face as we traveled in the squad car back to the station.
    “Don’t be silly, Mom. You deserve the best. Not some second-rate cutter who might make you look older rather than younger.”
    She sighed. “I’ll have to reschedule, won’t I?”
    “Meantime you can meet your new grandchild. Stella. She looks just like you. I think.”
    “I’m not crazy about babies, you know that.”
    *
    The two of them stared at each other for almost a full minute. Stella squeezed her eyes shut and let out a wail. Mom squeezed hers closed too and handed the bawling bundle back to me.
    “This baby is going to cost you when she hits her adolescence.” Mom looked into the hall mirror and fluffed her hair.
    “How so?”
    “Look at that overbite. And her ears stick out. You could try plastering them back with scotch tape. I did that to you.” She gave me a look. “It didn’t help much.
    “Better watch the calories. She’s gonna be a little piglet.”
    “Mom, she’s less than a week old. Babies change a lot.”
    A horn honked outside the front door.
    Mom grabbed her sweater and roll-on bag. “That’s my taxi. Well, I’m off to the spa in Scottsdale.”
    I knew what she meant by “spa” was a center for plastic surgery. She was hell bent on that facelift.
    By now Stella had calmed down. Fred and the boys gave Mom goodbye kisses. The dog hid under the couch. I gave Mom a quick hug, and, Stella in my arms, I walked with her out to the car. Another vehicle pulled up behind her cab. It was Clay. She opened the cab’s door and threw herself into the back seat.
    “I have nothing to say to you,” she yelled at Clay.
    “I give up. I’ll pay for your surgery. Anything. Just don’t leave me.”
    There was a pause as Mom thought it over. The door of the cab opened and Clay got in. I watched them drive off together. I guess love is better the second or sixth or so time around, especially if it’s with someone you barely recognize, and you’re smart enough to give the gift that you need to keep on giving—surgery.