For a moment Alisha and George seemed disconcerted. He watched them wander the place, searching through it as though looking for clues. Then Alisha marched out of his bedroom with a look of triumph on her face. “Maddie’s bed is in your room.”
Joshua shrugged. “So?”
“That’s completely improper. She should have her own room.”
“She does. She doesn’t want to sleep in there yet.”
“So you let her dictate to you how she wants to do things? Where is your parental authority?”
Joshua’s jaw clenched. “I let her have a say, to a degree, in things that affect her. We’ve only been here two days; she’s still getting used to the place. Can you blame her for not wanting to sleep alone in a new place? Have some compassion, Alisha.”
Alisha shook her head. “I can’t imagine it’s healthy for a young girl to sleep alone with her father.”
The camel’s back was dangerously close to giving out. “She has her own bed, Alisha, and I’ll ask you to stop right there with what you’re insinuating. Don’t ever question my propriety with my daughter.”
George put a hand on Alisha’s arm. “I don’t think she’s implying that you would
do
anything. Just that it might be considered a little questionable.”
“Well, seeing as Maddie is
my
daughter, and I don’t have a problem with it, then other people’s opinions don’t really matter, do they?” He raked a hand through his hair, feeling close to exploding. “I wish I understood why you’re so desperate to prove me incompetent. I wish I understood why you hate me so much.”
Neither of them would look him in the eye. He shook his head and motioned to the door. “I don’t see this visit getting any better. I’ll give you a call later in the week and arrange a time when Mad-die can come visit for the day.”
George frowned. “You’re kicking us out?”
“No. I’m trying to nicely convey that it would be better for this meeting to end now, before anything is said by either of us that is later regretted.”
Alisha’s chin jutted into the air. “Come, George, let’s go. I can see we’re not welcome here.”
Joshua didn’t bother contradicting her or seeing them out. He just shut the door behind them and went into the bedroom to watch their interaction with Maddie before they left. He wouldn’t put it past them to fill her head with propaganda when he wasn’t looking. He’d call to set a date for Maddie to go to their house for the day, but he’d make sure she didn’t actually go. There was no way he trusted them alone with her now.
He watched them emerge from the security door and call Maddie from her playing to come say good-bye. Alisha bent down to give Maddie a kiss, then began to talk to her as she pulled a candy bar from her pocket and held it out to her. Then Alisha glanced back at the patio and did a double-take upon meeting Joshua’s stare. She straightened up, patted Maddie on the head, and turned away to stalk off to the car. George kissed Maddie’s cheek, then followed his wife. Maddie ran over to him and handed him the candy bar. “I can’t have this, can I?”
“No kiddo, sorry.”
“Why do they always bring food I can’t eat?”
“Because they refuse to believe you’re actually allergic to milk.”
“But why?”
“Great question, Maddie. I don’t know.”
“Gramma looked mad when they left.”
“I know, honey. Did she say anything angry to you?”
“No, she just looked angry in her eyes.”
He ruffled her bangs. “We just need to pray for them, okay?”
“Okay. Can I go play now?”
“Of course.”
He watched her race back to Hannah and Zak, then settled himself into a deck chair. Suddenly he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.
“R
EADY, SET, GO
!” With a squeal, Maddie took off from beneath the preschool awning, running through the rain to the car. Joshua was right behind her, trying to keep the umbrella above her as she dodged puddles on the sidewalk. Once they reached the car he tossed her into the seat as she giggled. “I’m so wet!”
“You’re
so wet—what about me?” Joshua secured the carseat harness over Maddie and shut the door, then jumped into the front seat, wiping rain from his face and hair. His head was throbbing, thanks to the storm system that had moved in overnight. He’d been in pain all day, despite the pills he’d taken. He couldn’t wait to get home and lie down.
Maddie sang as they drove, respecting his request that he not have to converse until they got home. The windshield wipers stuttered with each pass, a minor irritation that grew more annoying with each mile. By the time they got back to the apartment Joshua was ready to yank the things off their holders.
Someone was standing under an umbrella at the security door when he reached it, Maddie in his arms and both of them getting drenched. “I’ve got a key,” he said, setting Maddie down. “Who are you here to see?” He still didn’t know many neighbors, but he didn’t feel right just letting someone in without at least asking.
The woman looked at a note in her hands. “Joshua Miller.”
He unlocked the door and opened it wide. “That’s me. Come on in.” They all ducked into the hall and shook the rain off their jackets. He stuck his hand out to shake hers. “And you are?”
“Natalie Cohen. I’m a caseworker with DHS.”
“DH—wait a minute, as in Department of Human Services?”
“Yes.”
His headache disappeared with the shot of adrenaline that entered his bloodstream. His hand gripped Maddie’s tighter as he asked, “Forgive me for being blunt, but why are you here?”
She smiled. “We received a call this morning, and I’m just following up. May I come in?”
He froze. What was the better thing to do? Let her in so she could see nothing was amiss—but then what if she found some random thing that he never would have guessed would cause a problem? But if he didn’t let her in, wasn’t that admitting to some kind of guilt?
“A call—from whom? About what?”
“We were told the home might be unfit for a child, and that there may be—,” she checked the note again, “inappropriate sleeping arrangements.”
He fought to control the fury that rose from his gut. “You’ve got to be kidding. Let me guess—the caller was Alisha Michalson?”
“I don’t know. The call was made anonymously.”
He snorted. “What a coward.” He unlocked the door and swung it open. “Come on in and I’ll put your mind at rest.”
The three of them walked into the condo, and Joshua pointed in the direction of the living room. “Please, feel free to look around.”
“Thank you, Mr. Miller.” She walked into the living room and looked around, then strolled into both bedrooms while he peeled off Maddie’s slicker and gym shoes. She returned and looked back to him with her eyebrows raised. She looked amused. “Did you know I was coming?”
“No, I had no idea. I’ve been at work all day, Maddie has been at preschool—we were just getting home. Are you surprised it’s not a disaster?”
She chuckled. “Well, not entirely surprised, given your reaction when I told you. But this isn’t even cluttered, much less hazardous to anyone’s health. And I see nothing inappropriate about a child’s bed being in the parents’ room. People do it all the time when they live in one-bedroom apartments.”
He knelt down to Maddie. “Do me a favor, kiddo. Go hop into your jammies since your clothes are wet, and I’ll come get you when Ms. Cohen and I are done talking, okay?”
“Okay. Are we in trouble?”
“No, love, we’re not.” He kissed her head. “Off you go.”
Maddie ran to her bedroom and shut the door. He sighed and motioned to the couch. “May I talk with you a minute?”
“Of course.”
Joshua rubbed his hand over his eyes. “My wife died almost a year ago. She was the only child her parents had. They haven’t been handling it well at all, and then a few months back they declared me unfit, in their eyes, to be raising Maddie, and said they were going to fight me for grandparent rights and possibly custody.”
“That’s why you think they’re the ones that called?”
He shrugged. “No one else has been here but them. We just moved here a few days ago, and they saw it for the first time yesterday. It
was
a bit of a mess—Maddie had spilled some cereal, the vacuum bag exploded—but I cleaned it all last night. I’m not a messy guy, but Maddie is a typical four-year-old, so it’s not immaculate around here, but it’s certainly not dirty enough to endanger anyone.”
She nodded. “I understand, Mr. Miller.”
“So…everything is alright?”
She smiled. “Looks fine to me. I’ll put a note in your file ex plaining the situation. I can’t guarantee we won’t have to come back out—we do have to investigate every call we get—but at least whatever agent is sent out will be able to see that you were cooperative and that there may be extenuating circumstances as to the motive behind the call.”
He heaved a sigh. “Thank you so much. Man, I can’t tell you what panic set in when you said you were from DHS.”
She chuckled as she stood. “I can understand that. I’m relieved to see there don’t seem to be any problems here. While it’s frustrating that agency resources are wasted on calls like this, I have to admit it’s a bright spot in my day to visit a competent parent and happy child.”
He walked her to the door and saw her out, then shut it, locked it, and leaned his head against the frame.
Breathe.
He swallowed back bile and gripped the doorknob, counting to calm himself. To think his own in-laws had stooped this low—he knew they were serious about wanting Maddie, but he had no idea they’d go so far as to try to get DHS involved. Had they really thought that small amount of mess was enough to make the agency suspect neglect? Or that Maddie’s bed in his bedroom would lead them to consider abuse?
He stood at the door, hanging onto the doorknob with a white-knuckle grip until he was sure his rage had simmered down to a less dangerous level. He didn’t want to go off in front of Maddie about her grandparents, or give her the impression that anything was amiss. She didn’t deserve to have that kind of stress loaded onto her small shoulders.
He pulled two servings of frozen lasagna from the freezer and tossed them into the microwave. “Hey Maddie, come on out. I’ve got dinner almost ready.”
She trotted out in her pajamas and slippers. “Daddy, my hair is wet and it’s all cold and icky on my neck.”
He took a kitchen towel off its hook and knelt down. “Come here, I’ll fix it.” He gathered her hair in a ponytail and squeezed the wet ends in the towel. “Thanks for getting your pajamas on all by yourself.”
“Who was that lady?”
“She was just someone who came to check and make sure we were all moved in okay.”
“What does ‘inappropriate sleeping arrangements’ mean?”
He stifled a groan. “It means…she wasn’t sure if your bed was big enough because you’re getting so big. Those little beds can’t hold you if you weigh too much.”
“Oh, okay.”
He rubbed her hair, then slung the towel over his shoulder. “I think that’s a little better, eh?”
“Thanks, Daddy. Can I color until dinner?”
“Sure, but that only gives you a couple minutes.”
“That’s alright.” She hopped into the living room and pulled out her coloring book and crayons from the toy chest under the window. Tears welled in Joshua’s eyes as he watched her.
How could they think he’d just let someone take his daughter?
He swiped at the tears before Maddie could see them, then pulled two tumblers from the cabinet. He went through the motions of preparing dinner, but his mind was elsewhere, trying to remember the name of the lawyer he’d met at his last job. He had a phone call to make.
“So are you going to the Redken Symposium this year?” Rumiko wrapped a towel around Kim’s neck and lowered her head to the basin. “Las Vegas is calling my name for sure.”
Kim chuckled, closing her eyes as the warm spray soothed her head. “I don’t know. I’d love to go, but I’m not sure I’ll have the money.”
“Girl, you need to try. I went the last time and it was awesome. Not to mention—hello, it’s Vegas!” She massaged Kim’s scalp and lathered the shampoo in her hair. “Stay up all night, go dancing, play the slots—please, please come!”
“I’ll try,” she lied. “But if I can’t you have to promise to teach me everything you know when you come back.”
“Of course I will.” She rinsed the shampoo and pumped conditioner into her hands, then smoothed the product through Kim’s hair. “Man, your hair is really growing fast. I can’t believe how long it is.”
“Huh, really? I guess I haven’t noticed.”
“Yeah, you haven’t been doing much with it lately. I’ve noticed a lot of ponytails.”
Kim winced inside. She knew she should be doing more with her hair—it was, after all, the best way to advertise what she did for a living—but she just hadn’t had the energy lately to do anything more than tie it up.
“So you want me to cut it different this time? You could try going short, then you wouldn’t have to do much. Your face would carry a short cut really well.”
“No, I don’t think Rick would like that.”
Rumiko scoffed as she rinsed out the conditioner. “So? It’s your hair.”
“Yeah, but he’s the one that has to look at me.”
“So do the rest of us, but you don’t see us dictating your hairstyle now, do you?” Kim rolled her eyes and Rumiko chuckled. “Okay, whatever. You’re done, you can sit up.” She led Kim back to her chair and draped the plastic cape across her chest. “So just the usual half-inch trim, then?”
“Yes please.”
Rumiko combed out Kim’s hair, chattering away about the color class she’d taken earlier in the week. Kim had wanted to attend too—usually she and Rumiko went to all their continuing education classes together—but Rick hadn’t wanted her to spend the money. She’d tried to explain to him that she needed these classes, but he’d blown her off. “It’s hair. How much new stuff can they come up with to do with it, really? It’s not rocket science.” She’d considered defending her profession, but knew there was no point—it would just escalate into another boxing match.
Rumiko pulled her comb up and snipped with her scissors. “You should see the new applicator,” she said. “It’s completely—” She stopped, frowned, and leaned in to peer more closely at Kim’s hair. “Um, Kim?”
“What?”
Rumiko drew her comb horizontally across Kim’s hair, then lifted the layer she had created and handed Kim her hand mirror. “Look at the hair under here. Do you see it?”
Kim angled the mirror to get a better view. Her eyes widened. “It’s wavy. My hair is getting curly?”
Rumiko stared at her in the mirror. “Your
hair
is getting
curly
.”
Kim lowered the mirror and stared at Rumiko. “Oh my God.”
Rumiko dropped her voice lower. “When was your last cycle?”
“It was…um…” She bit her lip, calculating in her head. “Like, a month ago? The middle of June? But it was really short, like not even a day…” Her voice faded as reality struck.
Rumiko put a hand on her shoulder. “You need to find out, like, now. I’ll cut your hair later; go down to the drug store and get a test.” Kim sat, dumbfounded. Rumiko tugged her arm and ripped apart the Velcro on the neck of the cape. “Go!”
Kim stumbled from the chair and grabbed her purse from her station. She was halfway down the sidewalk to the drugstore before her emotions caught up with her. She wiped tears from her cheeks and sniffed.
I can’t be pregnant. I
can’t
be. What will Rick say?
She almost ran the rest of the way to the store, and once inside, she bumbled down the wrong aisle three times before finding the section of pregnancy tests. She grabbed the one that required the shortest amount of waiting and took it up to the front. Her hand shook as she laid it on the counter at the register and pulled out her wallet. She expected some kind of comment from the cashier, but the woman merely scanned it for the price and dumped it into a bag. Kim signed the receipt with a signature that looked nothing like it usually did. She power walked back to the salon and tossed her purse onto the chair. She flashed the bag to Rumiko, who flashed back crossed fingers.
Once inside the bathroom, Kim ripped open the box and read the instructions twice to make sure she did it right. Then she stood, her back to the test, unable to make herself watch it as it developed. She counted to one hundred, then turned and saw a little pink plus sign.
W
HEN
R
ICK CAME HOME
, Kim had dinner laid out on a fully-set table, complete with candles and wine. “Well this is an unexpected surprise,” he said as he dropped his keys onto the pass-through counter. “We win the lottery or something?”
Kim pulled out his chair and motioned for him to sit down. “No, no—not quite.” She poured a glass of wine and sat down beside him. “But I do have some good news.”
He leaned back, drink in hand, and smiled. “Well? Lay it on me, I’m dying of suspense over here.”
Hands clutched in her lap, face aching from the perma-smile she’d been sporting all afternoon, Kim took a deep breath and gushed, “We’re going to have a baby!”
Rick set down his wine. “What?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“Yes!” She laughed. “Can you believe it?”
“But, we’ve always…”
She shrugged. “Nothing is 100 percent.” Her smile faded for the first time that day. “You’re not happy?”
“Well, I just…I wasn’t expecting this.” He picked up his wine and swallowed half of it. “Wow.”
They sat in silence for a minute until Kim couldn’t stand it anymore. “I need to know what you’re thinking. Are you upset? Are you nervous? Are you…what are you?”
He stood and began to pace. “I don’t know, Kim. I’m not exactly happy—this wasn’t the plan at all, right?”
“Well, right, but—”
“And where are we gonna put a baby?”
She chuckled. “We have a whole room that we don’t use—”
“Yeah, yeah, but we’re not cut out to be parents. We’ve hardly had parents, how do we know what to do? We don’t!”
“We’ll watch a lot of Cosby and
Family Ties
reruns.”
He stopped pacing and frowned at her. “This isn’t funny, Kim.”
“Rick, relax.” She stood and went to him, wrapping her arms around him. “This is amazing! This is our chance to reverse karma, you know? The world screwed us over when it came to family, but we’ll make it right, we’ll be the best parents any kid has ever had. We’ll do for her all the things no one ever did for us.”
“Um—‘her’? Do you already know it’s a girl?”
She rolled her eyes. “I had to say something, so I said her.”
“When will we know what it is?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I have to find a doctor. I don’t even know for sure how far along I am.” She wrinkled her nose. “I feel so guilty—the wine I’ve drunk, the food I’ve eaten. I haven’t been taking any vitamins or anything.”
Rick removed her arms from his waist. “Alright, well, enough about all this. I’m hungry. What did you make?”
Kim served up the lasagna and garlic bread she’d purchased on the way home from work and refilled Rick’s wine glass, then filled her own with water. She was aching to talk baby things—registries, names, nursery décor—but Rick dominated the conversation and babies were never a part of it. Whenever she tried to bring it up, he’d wave a hand and say, “Later. I can’t think about that right now.”
As they were getting ready for bed, she tried again. “So I’m going to find a doctor tomorrow. Do you want to come to the appointment with me when I go?”
He scoffed. “Are you kidding me? No way.”
She frowned. “Well, fine, but you don’t have to sound so disgusted by the suggestion.”
“Kim, this whole thing is so far from what I want right now that the very mention of it is making me sick.” His voice held the note of warning she had come to recognize as a precursor to a slap, or worse. She lowered her eyes, ashamed at her need for him to be as happy about this as she was. “Just leave me alone about all this, alright? I need to figure out what we’re going to do.”
She couldn’t sleep that night. She lay in bed, hands resting on her belly, thinking about all that was going to change. How long could she work on her feet all day? Her back had already begun to ache, though she hadn’t realized why at the time. How would they pay for the birth? She had no insurance, and while Rick had some through work, she wasn’t on the policy. The baby could be, but that wouldn’t take care of the hospital stay or prenatal appointments. And she’d need maternity clothes. And vitamins—she had to get those tomorrow.
She rolled to her side and pulled the covers over her head, overwhelmed. There was so much to consider, so much to do.
If only Rick were more supportive.
She longed to nestle against him and cry into his chest, feel his strong arms around her and hear his voice whispering that he’d take care of everything.
“Hey.”
She jumped at his voice. “I thought you were asleep.”
“No, I was thinking.”
“About what?”
“Maybe you could get an abortion?”
She sat straight up with a gasp. “What? No! How could you even suggest that?”
“Relax. It was just an idea.”
“Just an idea? Killing our baby? Nice, Rick.” Her voice broke with emotion as she threw back the covers and grabbed her pillow.
“It’s not a baby yet. Where are you going?”
“I’m not sharing a bed with someone that callous.” She stomped out of the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Beginning to cry, she grabbed the chenille throw from the end of the couch and laid down. She buried her face in her pillow, not wanting Rick to know how much he’d upset her. She was already fearful of him taking offense at how she’d abandoned him.
But he wouldn’t do anything when I was pregnant, would he?
She wrapped her arms around her middle and wiggled deeper into the cushions. She wanted to disappear into them, into something, just her and her baby alone together. She pictured the baby curled in her womb, recalling photos she’d seen of fetuses in utero, floating in their watery homes, looking like jarred aliens. She grinned a little and was filled with anticipation for her first doctor’s visit. She’d get her morning appointments rescheduled and go first thing. She’d cancel at the Club, too, so she could go get some maternity clothes. The grin grew to a smile as she realized her clothes had been tight because of the baby and not because of how much she’d been eating lately. So many little things made sense now—her fatigue, her sore back, how emotional she’d felt. Such a tiny little thing inside her, but such a big impact it was already having.
Her mind roamed the fields of her imagination, dreaming of tiny baby clothes and images of herself with a blanketed bundle in her arms. She fell asleep humming lullabies.
K
IM SLEPT LIKE A ROCK
on the couch, and when she awoke Rick was already gone. It took a moment for her to remember the events of the previous day, but when they all snapped back into place, she felt giddy and light with excitement. She called into the salon and left a message for Bette to cancel her appointments, then called the Club to cancel for the afternoon. After showering and eating—during which she thanked the universe she wasn’t having morning sickness—she headed out to the free clinic.
There were only five people ahead of her when she arrived. She picked up a magazine and sat in the corner, as far from everyone else as she could. She’d never worried about her health before, but now that someone else was depending on her, she didn’t want to take any chances. Who knew what illnesses people were dragging in with them today?
When her turn came up an hour later, she followed the nurse back to be weighed and have her vitals checked. Then she was led to a room where she changed into a paper gown and waited another ten minutes for the obstetrician, a thin, energetic woman with gray in her hair and an aura of kindness. “Well I see you’re pregnant!” she said as she sat down. “How do you feel about that?”
Kim smiled. “I’m excited. It wasn’t planned, but I’m still excited.”
The doctor wrote on Kim’s chart. “Is the father aware of the baby?”
“Yes, he is.”
“And what does he think of all this?”
Kim sighed. “Well, I don’t think he’s thrilled. But I just told him last night—I just found out yesterday—so once he’s had some time to let it sink in, I’m hoping he’ll be more into it.”
“Have you given any thought yet to what you plan to do?”
Kim frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you have a few options. You can keep the baby, if you’re prepared to deal with the responsibility. You can put it up for adoption. There are a lot of families out there who would love to raise a child but can’t have children of their own. Or you could—”
“I’m keeping it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
The doctor nodded and made a note in her chart. “Well, if you begin to have a change of heart, please let us know and we can set you up with the proper resources.” She glanced up, then frowned. “What’s all this here?”
Kim looked to the spot where the doctor was pointing and felt her insides go cold. Her scars. “Oh—my stupid cat.” She forced a chuckle. “She went nuts. We were at the vet. She hates the vet.”
She held the doctor’s gaze, hoping her features looked as neutral as she was trying to make them. “Hm. Well. Might want to have someone else take the cat in while you’re pregnant, just to be safe.” She made another notation on the chart. “And you can’t change the litter box while you’re pregnant, either. The dust from the litter can cause toxoplasmosis.”
“Oh, okay, good to know. I’ll have Rick do it then.”
“Rick? Is that the father?”
“Yes.”
“Ah.” She made another note. “Alright, let me see if we have all this correct, then, okay?” She double-checked the information Kim had given the nurse, and Kim relaxed again. It was a good thing she’d stopped cutting. There was no way the doctor would buy that story for long.