After making the calls, she got back to work on her computer.  She surfed the Internet, took notes, read forums where people asked questions about formula, nipple pain, allergies to mother’s milk, lactation classes, another forum talked about working mothers, women who were taking extended leave from work, and others returning to their jobs three weeks after delivery.  Alice hopped from site to site and filled several legal pads with ideas.  She emailed a few people, never identifying herself as a writer or reporter, but just another mom with questions.  She thought she might find some good interview subjects in this vast group of parents and childhood development experts.

Always the consummate multi-tasker, Alice was listening to her iPod, watching CNN, working on several articles, staring at the clock, wondering if she should call Dana again, and had her Instant Messenger program open in case one of the people she had emailed responded.  It was 1:15 and she doubted Dana would show.  Dana was angry and was probably blowing off steam in the gym.  Alice was going to be cool—not clingy, not needy, not so totally lesbian. 

The sound for her Instant Messenger was muted, but she saw the program flashing on her task bar.  She opened it up and saw that one of the people had responded to her.  She and the other person talked briefly about parenting and how invaluable these sites were so that new parents didn’t feel like they were overwhelmed or losing their minds.  The two agreed to chat again and signed off. 

When Alice looked up again from her research, it was two a.m.  Now, it was she who needed to blow off steam.  Dana was supposed to be her lover.  They weren’t in some casual dating relationship, they were a couple.  Even if she wasn’t going to come over, she should have returned her calls.  “Damn it,” Alice whined aloud.  “Damn it.”

* * * * *

Shane was wearing jeans and a plain black sweatshirt.  Carmen was also in jeans, but wearing a message long-sleeved T-shirt.  This tee was chosen with Mark in mind.  It was all black with bold white letters that read, “Yeah, I’m a bitch, so fucking what?”