Everybody Loves Raymond
By Douglas Greene
douglas_greene@hotmail.com
Laura arrived about noon; her new boyfriend would follow later.
As usual, my sister was absolutely stunning, wearing a short low-cut dress that showed off her boobs. She definitely had the good looks in the family. I’m a bit on the heavy side, but I’ve been told that I have a pretty face, and men seem to appreciate my rather large breasts.
We took our customary holiday photos, and she posed with little Raymond for several pictures. The two of them have a very special bond; she helped us through those first few very difficult days. She seemed to know when to be firm with Ray, and when to be gentle. For instance, when he refused to nurse, she was the one who was able to convince him that he had to eat. I’m still not quite sure how she did it.
Bill arrived about an hour later, bringing an unexpected guest. Holding his hand was Heidi, Bill’s five-year-old daughter from a previous marriage. She was a charming little girl, and immediately formed an attachment to my little Raymond.
“Can I feed him Daddy? Please?” she begged, when she spotted me preparing a bottle of formula.
“That’s not up to me, you’ll have to ask Linda,” he replied.
Moments later, Ray was stretched across Heidi’s little lap, with grown ups hovering nearby to offer supervision.
“Be careful, don’t let him fall,” her father warned.
“You have to support his head,” Laura offered.
At first, Ray refused to suck, turning his head whenever Heidi tried to put the nipple in his mouth.
“Raymond, be nice!” Laura said, loudly enough to startle Ray, causing his legs and arms to jerk in unison, causing everyone in the room to titter.
He immediately started to nurse, draining the bottle in just a few minutes. Laura then took him, and sitting him upright on her knees, patted Ray firmly on his back. Poor Ray opened his mouth, and proceeded to spit up all over his clean outfit.
“Ewwww!” Heidi squealed, watching the yellow regurgitated formula run down the blue fabric.
“These thing happen,” Laura shrugged. “At least he missed me! I’d better change him out of these dirty clothes.” She got up, and carried Ray to the nursery, returning a few minutes later. She’d dressed him in a white shirt, but didn’t bother putting him in pants.
“Do you want to hold him?” she asked Bill.
“Sure,” he replied amicably. “He’s done spitting up, isn’t he?”
“Well, one can never be sure,” Laura teased.
“Is he always this quiet? I don’t think I’ve heard him make a sound,” Bill observed.
“He wasn’t at first. I think he screamed for three days straight when I first got him home,” I chuckled. “But you’re right. These days I can barely get a peep out of him.”
For the next half an hour, Ray lay quietly on Bill’s lab as he watched the football game. Heidi sat next to them, and gently stroked the top of Ray’s head. Occasionally Bill would rub the tiny, twitching feet with his hands as he stared at the television.
“I’ll put him down while we eat,” Cheryl offered. “It’s about time for his nap anyway.”
It was great having all the help; I was able to focus on dinner, and I’d have to say that it was one of my best efforts. I recalled last Thanksgiving. Ray was drunk and passed out before we even sat down for our meal. As I watched Cheryl carry him to his crib, I realized that Raymond would be napping during dinner this year as well.
Bill was nice enough to carve the turkey and he did an excellent job.
“So Bill, you specialize, don’t you?” I asked, making conversation.
“That’s right,” Bill replied, as he helped himself to some more dressing. ”I’m strictly doing research right now, I don’t actually practice. We’re trying to develop a vaccine for ARV.”
“Really, how close are you?” Kennita asked.
“Not very, I’m afraid,” he replied, pouring a liberal amount of gravy over his dressing. “We’re discovering therapies that might help people who’ve contracted the virus, but nothing to stop people from contracting it.”
“Anything that might help Raymond?” I asked.
He looked at me, confused. “I’m sorry; I don’t understand.”
“Raymond. My husband. You were holding him before dinner.”
Bill suddenly stopped eating and put his fork down on his plate. He turned ghostly white, and I thought that he might feint.
“That baby is your husband?” he asked incredulously.
“Bill, I thought that you knew. I told you that Linda’s husband has ARV. Sometimes I think that you’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached,” Laura giggled.
He shook his head back and forth rapidly in disbelief. “Jesus Laura, why didn’t you remind me? I was playing with his feet, for Christ’s sake.” His mouth was agape, and for a few seconds he was staring up off into space. “I completely forgot. How awful for him.”
TO BE CONTINUED?