Member-only story
Vignettes — #6
Nerida
Nerida walks along the busy suburban shopping street. The farmers’ market stalls are all but packed up, but many market-goers are still seeking cafés for afternoon tea and a rest. Nerida needs that too.
Her arm is tiring from carrying two-week-old Osmond. He’s whimpering, hungry. She sees a vacant chair under a large umbrella and sinks into it. She looks around at the other patrons and then notices the sticker on the café window: Breastfeeding welcome here. She sighs, pulls down the loose top from her left breast and positions Osmond. He latches on eagerly.
When Nerida looks up from her blissfully feeding baby, she notices a number of patrons obviously trying not to stare. For a moment she doesn’t care, still revelling in the delightful energy flowing through her body that was such a pleasant surprise the first time she fed Osmond. Then she feels self-conscious, aware that the people around her would have all manner of attitudes about her ‘public display’.
She overhears one woman remark to her female companion, “She could at least go inside with that, in a back corner.”
A waitress appears before anger overwhelms Nerida. The young woman, about Nerida’s age — mid-twenties — smiles. “He’s cute. Oh sorry, is it ‘she’?”
