Authors: Amy Hatvany
He dropped his hands to his lap and wiped them on his pants. “I just want to look at it again,” he pleaded. “
Please?
”
“Okay, but
I’m
holding it.” He nodded, and I turned back to the first page, examining each image of my mother when she was a child. Over the next couple of hours, more people trickled in and out of the house, murmuring how sorry they were about Mama. I only nodded in response, not lifting my gaze to meet theirs. Not trusting myself to speak without crying.
After a while, Max got bored looking at the album and went to get something to eat. I still sat on the couch, trying to ignore everything that was going on around me. Dad checked on me; Grace did, too. I told them I was fine, unable to focus on anything but the album I held in my lap. But as the day went on, as most of the people finally left, it wasn’t the pictures I found myself thinking about. It was the blank space of her high school years, the place where Mama just seemed to disappear.
Whore.
The word repeated over and over in Kelli’s mind as she curled up in the backseat of her parents’ car. It was the word her father had used right before he slapped her across the face a few weeks ago, right after her mother told him his daughter was pregnant. Kelli had barely felt the sting of his hand on her skin. In fact, she barely felt anything at all. Not since her mother made her take the test to confirm what they feared. While she waited for them to decide what to do with her, Kelli went through the motions of her life—to school and church—like nothing had happened. Every time the secret rose up inside her, she swallowed it down, trying not to choke. But here was the truth: she was pregnant and her parents were sending her away. At that point, she didn’t care. None of it mattered. Maybe she
was
a whore.
They’d asked who had done this to her, but she refused to tell them about Jason. “What about the baby?” she asked instead. “What will happen to her?” She didn’t know why she assumed it was a girl; she just did.
Her parents ignored her question. “We’ll say you were having trouble with your grades,” her mother said. “We’ll say this boarding school caters to young girls who need to focus on their studies.”
“Where is it?” Kelli asked.
“A couple hours north of San Francisco,” her mother told her. She went on to explain to Kelli that one of her friends from church had a drug-addicted daughter whom they’d sent there when she was sixteen. “She came back a year later and she was entirely changed.”
Changed into what?
Kelli wondered. She knew her parents were devastated. She knew they were angry and ashamed. They wanted her to be a clone of them, but no matter where she went, no matter what happened to her, she didn’t think she could be. But even as part of her ached with guilt, another part was excited. The baby would love her. Kelli would never put her down. She’d kiss her baby’s toes and sleep with her each night. She’d love her baby the way her parents had never loved her.
Her father pulled off the highway and onto a long gravel road with tall red cedars towering above them on both sides. Kelli almost asked how much further it was to the school, but then she saw a sign that read
New Pathways, 3 miles ahead
. Three miles was a long way, Kelli thought. The last town they’d seen was more than an hour ago, so it wouldn’t be easy for students to try to run away. Not that Kelli planned to. She was almost happy to be tucked into the woods, far away from everyone and everything she’d ever known. It was almost as though she was being given a chance to start over.
A little while later, a large brick building loomed ahead of them. It was a perfectly plain gray box, three stories high with small square windows. Kelli was relieved to see several other girls sitting out on the lawn on blankets. Some of them were reading, others were talking—a few even had smiles on their faces. One of them was clearly pregnant, much further along than Kelli, who hadn’t even begun to show yet.
Her father parked the car by the front steps, and the three of them sat in silence for a moment. “You should get your things,” her father said. “The trunk is open.”
“Aren’t you going to come in with me?” Kelli asked, her words shaky and thin.
“We’re not supposed to,” her mother said. At least she had tears in her voice. “The director is expecting you in the front office. They’ll get you settled.”
“But when will I see you again?” Kelli asked. Neither of her parents responded. It was almost as if she had vanished. It was almost as though after what she’d done, she didn’t exist to them at all.
* * *
Kelli quickly learned that most girls at New Pathways thought it little better than a prison. They all adhered to a strict schedule: showers at six, breakfast at seven, classes from seven thirty to three. Chores and homework for two hours, one hour of free time for a walk or to read on the lawn, dinner at six, lights out by nine. There were no more than thirty girls who lived there, but during her first month, Kelli wasn’t openly welcomed by any of them. They nodded and said hello, but conversations never got much past “Please pass the rolls” at the dinner table. Most of the girls kept to themselves, plagued by their own set of secrets. None of them asked why she was there, and on some level, she was glad. She thought about the life growing within her, imagining that it would change who she was—make her a better, strong person. She needed to rest; she needed to focus on her schoolwork so she could get a good enough job to take care of her baby girl. Most of the time, she welcomed the structure the school required.
But one night, as she sat in the corner of the school’s small dining room, slowly eating rubbery chicken and bland steamed broccoli, the reality of her situation sounded off in her brain, too loud to ignore: Jason used her. She was pregnant and alone and nobody—not even her parents—wanted her. They didn’t even love her. They wouldn’t have sent her away if they did. They would have kept her with them if she was worth anything at all.
Sorrow wrapped itself into a heavy chain around her neck until it felt like she couldn’t breathe. Tears stung her eyes as she choked down the last bite of food on her plate, then took her dishes to the kitchen.
Later, while the other girls watched television or listened to music, Kelli sat at the small wooden desk next to the narrow bed she slept upon and made a list of all the things she would need for her child.
Diapers, clothes, and bottles. Baby powder, blankets, and a crib.
She thought if she had a list, maybe she’d feel better, more capable of being a good mother. She tried to think of everything she’d seen in movies about babies but couldn’t come up with much. She hoped when she and her child went home, her mother might help her. This would be her grandchild, after all. Her baby would change everything.
“Whatcha writing?” A voice popped through her thoughts and Kelli whipped around to see the pregnant girl, whose name she’d learned was Stella, standing in her doorway. Her mousy brown hair was twisted on top of her head in a messy bun and she wore stretchy pajama bottoms and a T-shirt that was too small to cover her stomach. Kelli could see her belly button and for some reason, that made her uncomfortable.
Kelli flipped the piece of paper over, even though Stella wouldn’t have been able to see it. “Nothing. Homework.”
Stella cocked her head and ran one palm over her swollen
belly. “Homework, huh? More like a letter to your boyfriend. That who knocked you up?”
“No!” Kelli exclaimed, a little shocked. She hadn’t told anyone why she was there. “How did you know?”
“Your boobs. They’re bigger than when you first got here. And you stomach’s starting to pooch out a little, too.” She gestured toward Kelli’s bed. “Mind if I sit down? My feet are killing me.”
“Sure,” Kelli said, tucking the sheet of paper into her folder before turning around to face Stella. “Is that because of the baby? Your feet hurting, I mean?”
Stella groaned as she carefully lowered herself to the bed, putting one hand down flat on the mattress so she didn’t fall right over. “Yeah. I’m all swollen and achy. And fat. It sucks.”
“Are you scared?” Kelli asked, strangely exhilarated to finally be talking about this with someone who might understand how she’d been feeling. She was a little freaked out thinking about the fact that she actually had a whole other body growing inside her. The only conversation she’d had about her pregnancy since getting here was with the director, who told her if she tried to sneak her boyfriend in the school for sex, she’d regret it, and with the doctor whom she’d met with once for a checkup, who told her to eat Tums if she got heartburn and make sure to take the prenatal vitamins he gave her.
“Sort of,” Stella said. “Are you?”
Kelli nodded, trying to keep her bottom lip from trembling. She’d never been so afraid of anything. Remembering how Jason being inside her had hurt, she couldn’t fathom the kind of pain having a
baby
would bring. She pictured sweat and blood and screaming and instantly, fear spread like hot tar inside her chest. “What else does it feel like?” she asked Stella, hoping she might learn something that would ease her concerns.
“Well, some of it’s pretty cool. When the baby moves and everything? It’s kind of like having an alien inside you.” Though that wasn’t especially reassuring, Kelli nodded and waited to hear more. Stella sighed. “I have to pee like, every ten minutes, too. Which sucks. And my boobs hurt. And my back.”
So much for reassurance
, Kelli thought. “When are you due?”
“Any day now,” Stella said. “I can’t wait to get this thing out of me.”
Kelli froze at her choice of words. “You don’t want to keep it?”
Stella scrunched up her face and shook her head. “Are you nuts? No way. It was totally a mistake, but my parents wouldn’t sign off on the abortion, so here I am. It’s going to be adopted by some couple in L.A.”
Kelli couldn’t imagine giving her child up so easily. “Did you get to meet them? Are they good people?”
Stella shrugged. “They don’t let us meet the parents. They just take the baby.” Her eyes became shiny and she looked out the window into the dark night. “I can’t wait to get back home. My boyfriend and I are gonna get a house together. He’s the manager at the gas station and he’s going to take care of me ’til I turn sixteen and can get a job.”
“What about your parents?”
“They don’t want me to come back.” She looked back at Kelli. “What about yours?”
“I don’t know . . .” Kelli said, trailing off. “They didn’t want to talk to me about what was going to happen. They just . . . sent me here.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed to try to keep the tears back. “I just want my baby, you know?”
“Your parents didn’t send you here so you could keep it,” Stella said. “All the girls have to give up their babies. That’s the whole point. They hide your secret from the world, and you get
to go back and pretend nothing happened. It’s a win-win. Your parents aren’t embarrassed by what a little slut you were, and your life isn’t ruined before you’re eighteen.”
“I’m not a slut,” Kelli whispered. Her father’s voice lingered in her mind . . .
Whore.
Stella shrugged again. “Whatever. So you loved the guy and it was all meaningful. I love my boyfriend, too, but it doesn’t mean I’m ready to be a mother.”
“Are all the girls pregnant here?” Kelli asked. Maybe they just weren’t showing, like Kelli.
“Nah. Some of them, yes. But most are just wild and their parents sent them here to stop drinking or whatever. It’s like military school for us. Only without the uniforms. Or the boys.” She yawned. “Okay, well, I’m wiped. I need to go to bed. Nice talking with you.”
“You too.” Kelli watched Stella’s laborious rise from the bed, dread gripping her as she wondered how she could stop what was going to happen. How she’d manage to keep the doctors from taking her baby away.
“I’ve totally got a handle on things,” Tanya assured me the morning after Kelli’s memorial. I’d called throughout the week to see how everything was going at the office, a little worried about being away from our clients. But so far, according to Tanya, everything seemed to be rolling along fine without me. “Stephanie came in for a few hours yesterday to organize the on-call schedule for the counselors,” Tanya said. “She also finished reviewing the files of the women getting ready to transition out of the safe houses. We’re all good.”
“You’re an angel,” I said, picturing her sitting at her desk.
Tanya snickered into the phone. “Yeah, some angel.”
“You are,” I said insistently, thinking of how she somehow juggled the demands of single motherhood and remained an ideal professional. Granted, she had a built-in caregiver in her mother, who moved from South Carolina to help take care of her two toddlers after Tanya left one of our safe houses. Having that kind of support certainly made her life infinitely more manageable. But however much I loved my own mother, I certainly wouldn’t have wanted her to live with us.
We hung up just as there was a knock on the door. I stumbled my way over from the couch and opened it to see Melody bearing a cardboard box. “Good morning! I come bearing a vat of white
bean chicken chili, sausage marinara, and three freezer bags of precooked chicken breasts.”
“Oh, hello,” I said with a laugh, holding out my hand and pretending to introduce myself. “I’m not sure if you know me. I’m Grace, and I live with a man who owns a restaurant? I’m pretty sure we’re not going to starve.”
“I can’t help it,” she said. “You know I’m compulsive. Where can I put it?”
“The freezer in the garage would be great,” I said. “Thank you.”
She set her purse on the entryway table and carried the box into the garage, where I heard her open the freezer and rummage around a bit, presumably finding space for all she’d brought. I walked into the kitchen and poured us each a cup of coffee, carrying them back into the living room, where she now stood waiting for me. She gratefully accepted the mug I handed her, then looked at me sternly. “I only have an hour before my first client, but I wanted to see how you’re doing after yesterday.” She eyed the sheets and my pillow. “Still on couch duty, eh?” she said.