by H. L. Logan
I took a few steps closer. Part of me wanted to go away longer and let her get the sleep she clearly needed.
After our intimacy the other night, another part of me wanted to lift her head and cradle it in my arms. To stroke her forehead until the lines disappeared, maybe even bring a smile to the lips I’d finally kissed.
But that wasn’t a very casual thing to do.
Stop being a moron. You’re already getting more than you could’ve asked for. Are you really going to sulk because you’re not getting even more?
Sinking into the chair opposite her, I stared at the back of her head. I knew I was being unrealistic, but I did want more. Way more. Like, absolutely fucking everything type of more.
But for the moment, I had to settle for what she could give me… or else have nothing at all.
Her head turned to the side, and her eyes blearily fixed on me. “Jaz? What time is it?”
“Just past five,” I said. “You fell asleep.”
“Ugh… my office hours must’ve come and gone. I hope no students came by.” She stretched from side to side. “I’m so stiff.”
The devil on one shoulder told me to offer her a massage.
The angel said to give the baby back and go home.
“That sucks.” I gave the baby back, but didn’t go home. “She have you up last night?”
“Not really. I mean, no more than usual.” She gave me an exhausted smile. “I’ve just been stressing about this whole Amanda thing.”
“It’s weird that she won’t meet you any earlier. Leaves you to stew about it for a whole week.”
“Exactly,” she sighed. “But anyway… you busy?”
My heart skipped a beat. “Now?”
“Or whenever.” She yawned… adorably. “Probably should be another night if I’m this tired, but… I do want to pick up where we left off.”
Now my heart pounded. Throbbed, actually. And I could feel the pulsations vibrating directly to my core.
“Uh…”
“Sorry, it figures you’d have plans. I should’ve asked earlier. Never mind.” She stood with Gretchen and her bag.
I stared at her dumbly. I’ll go with you! I wanted to holler—but my lips couldn’t seem to form the words.
“Another time?” she asked.
Mute, I nodded.
12
Faye
The week went by… although it took its sweet goddamn time to do it.
I planned lessons, taught classes, marked papers… but my mind was far from the postcolonial literature I was lecturing about.
The meeting with Amanda weighed heavily on me, and I practiced what I wanted to say a hundred times a day. It would’ve been easier if I had a clue of where she was coming from. Even researching PPD didn’t give me much to go on. The idea of conceiving a child, nurturing it for nine months, and then throwing it to the wolves was completely foreign to me.
Not that I was a wolf—I was probably a sheep compared to her—but…
I set goals for the meeting. Find out why she’s so opposed to taking Gretchen. Whether she knows who the father is. If she can get child support.
I even called Ma and filled her in. If things went badly enough, I told myself, I could always call her and have her speak to Amanda. That was a last resort, though. I doubted Amanda would even listen.
Sometimes late at night, with Gretchen crying for the umpteenth time and no one but me to get up and feed her, I wondered why all this had been dumped on me. Why me, when I hadn’t done anything to deserve it? I would’ve helped Amanda with the baby out of sisterly obligation if she was a halfway decent mother. But no, all the responsibility came down on me. And my own mother—why did I have to be born to a woman who didn’t even care to meet her own grandchild?
But I fed Gretchen and went back to sleep, because that was all I could do.
There was no use in whining or moping. Keep going, keep moving forward. Like it or not, this was my new reality.
I didn’t know what I would’ve done without Jaz helping me. There were other babysitters, but not like her. Working for the lowest possible price, taking the best possible care of the baby, always ready with a grin and a helping hand. I never once took Jaz for granted.
In fact, every moment I wasn’t thinking of Amanda and Gretchen, I thought about Jaz.
I found myself reminiscing constantly about her soft lips and seductive smile. I savored the time I spent with her… the whole five minutes a day, anyway.
At this point, I was pretty sure she saw me as the creepy old woman who’d tried to get in her pants. I’d decided to leave the ball in her court, let her decide when we were going to do anything else. And up to now, she hadn’t initiated a thing.
So I cut our meetings shorter, kept them as professional as I could. If she wanted to just be my babysitter, that was okay with me. Even if I got this odd pain in my chest every time I had to look at her.
The week went by. Slowly but surely, it went by.
And on Saturday at one p.m., I met Amanda.
* * *
“You look like shit” was the first thing my sister said as she slipped into the seat across from me.
“Thanks.”
For her part, she looked about the same as always, other than a slight thickness to her belly that hinted at the changes it’d recently gone through. She wore the same fall coat she’d had for years, and she shivered under her thin floral scarf, as impractical as every other one she owned. Deep hollows had formed under her eyes. Yet from her casual demeanor, I would’ve never guessed anything had changed.
“Seriously,” she said, “I had to double-check that I was going over to the right person. For a moment I thought you were a forty-year-old who’d stolen my sister’s jacket and glasses.” She wrinkled her nose. “When are you going to get some glasses with actual frames?”
“I like these.”
As for the rest of it, I wasn’t going to point out that I may have looked less rested than usual because of the baby—the actual miniature human being—she’d unceremoniously dumped on me without a word of warning.
I wasn’t even going to think about it. Definitely not.
“Anyway…” Amanda twisted a tendril of hair. “I’m here, like you wanted.”
And I did appreciate that small gesture, considering everything I’d gone through because of her. “How far did you have to come to be here?” I asked.
She kept on with her hair. “A little ways. Is it important?”
“I’d like to know, Amanda. Where have you been? What have you been doing?”
“Because you want to judge me for everything,” she said, setting her coffee on the table.
“No, because you’re my sister and I haven’t seen you in six or eight months.” Leaving aside the whole Gretchen thing…
“I’ve been around,” she said petulantly.
“Where?”
“Here and there.”
“I see.” The stubborn part of me wanted to keep interrogating, ask her what type of work she’d been doing. But that would’ve pushed her away further, and she’d already slipped so far.
It wasn’t just about Gretchen. I’d only thought of the baby when I’d spent all that time searching for Amanda. Now that she was sitting here in front of me, I realized there were two people I needed to worry about.
“I was thinking,” I said, sharply changing the subject. “Do you remember Old Man Harvey?”
Amanda’s head tilted quizzically. “The angry old guy who lived down the street in Sargasso? Sure, what about him?”
“Remember that time we knocked on his door at Halloween?”
With our age difference, it’d been one of the only years we’d trick-or-treated together. When I was thirteen, I declared myself too grown-up to go anymore. And by the time I realized Halloween could be a way for an adult to bond with the baby sister she had little in common with, Amanda had reached the same point of “maturity.”
The question was a gamble, and as Amand
a stared at me, I began thinking I’d lost that gamble. After a long moment, Amanda laughed, the sound tinkling through the small shop. “That man must’ve been eighty, and he tore into the streets after us yelling about his shotgun.” She laughed harder. “I nearly shit myself!”
“And I grabbed you up and piggy-backed you away.”
“He probably chased us for half a mile,” Amanda said. “I don’t know why he was so upset. Do you think we were the first trick-or-treaters he ever got?”
“We probably were. None of the other kids were foolhardy enough to try it.”
We smiled at each other. It was working. We were bonding.
“Been a long time since I’ve thought about those days,” Amanda said.
“They were the good old days.” I sipped my coffee. “You must think of them sometimes, if you thought of me when Gretchen was born.”
She stiffened. “No.”
“Then why me?” I set my elbows on the table, leaning in. “What made you leave her with me, and not somebody else?”
“Who else is there?”
She didn’t ask sarcastically. Not even rhetorically. In fact, it sounded like if I had a better idea of who to drop the baby with, she’d take her straight there.
And for the life of me, I couldn’t answer it. “Ma?” I asked, already knowing the reasons it wouldn’t work even before Amanda began to shake her head.
“She’d never do it,” she said. “She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you any more than you hate her.” I watched Amanda closely, but her eyes didn’t flicker. “You two fought, that’s all. You’re still mother and daughter.”
“She wouldn’t take her. She’s too busy doing her own thing. And if by some miracle she did, she wouldn’t give Gretchen a good life. She’d pay her even less attention than she did to us.”
“Christ, Amanda, you make her sound terrible. She was never that bad.”
Amanda folded her hands around her paper cup. “Maybe not to her firstborn. By the time I ended up in the world, she was over being a mother.”
“No, Amanda. If you’d just talk to her sometime…”
A cloud formed over Amanda’s face, and she jerked her cup off the table as if she was about to get up and run out.
Ease off, Faye. Remember what you came here for. “Never mind. I’m not here to psychoanalyze you. Isn’t there anyone else who might have an interest in the baby?” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Her father, possibly?”
“If I had a clue who he was, maybe he’d care.”
My eyes widened, but I tried to keep my shock in check. “There’s more than one or two contenders?”
“There’s a few.” Something flickered across Amanda’s face. Not the shame I might’ve expected, but… something else. “And I’d have no way to contact most of them.”
“You don’t have their phone numbers?”
“Or some of their names.”
My stomach churned. What had driven my baby sister to end up like this? As soon as we got this Gretchen situation figured out, I vowed to not lose touch with Amanda again. She needed a big sister in her life, and I’d clearly let her down.
“So of everyone you know…” I said.
“You’re the most responsible. Like I told you in the note.” She stared at me defiantly, as if daring me to challenge the assertion.
“Fine. Fine.” I dug my fingers into the nape of my neck, hoping to ease out some of the tension. Not happening. “Look, Gretchen is great. I want her to have a chance, not to get lost in the cracks of the foster system. Did you ever think about putting her up for adoption?”
“Give her to some stranger?” Amanda glared now. “Why would I do that?”
“Because the adoption system has rigorous standards.” I’d looked into it a time or two years ago, daydreaming about future plans with a nonexistent partner. “They only let the most committed people adopt children. They have to be responsible, too. Gretchen would go to someone who’d really love and care about her.”
Amanda’s face tightened. “You really don’t want her?”
“I want her in my life. I just… I want to be her aunt.” I set my hands down in frustration, wishing Amanda could even try to understand. “She’s supposed to be with her mother, not with me. She’s a wonderful kid, Amanda. Do you not even want to know her?”
“Look me in the eye and tell me I’d do a better job of raising her than you would.”
Biting my lip, I dropped my gaze to the table. “Fine. So where do we go from here?”
“If you really want her gone, I can look into adoption,” Amanda said.
The idea of Gretchen being gone forever, taken in by complete strangers, made my heart flip over. But there had to be some other option. I couldn’t raise a baby all on my own as a single mom.
“Don’t you want to come see her sometime?” I asked. “Get to know your daughter a little?”
I still had hope that this would somehow turn out the way it was supposed to. That Amanda would magically transform into a mother who would give Gretchen the kind of parenting she deserved.
“I guess… maybe… it couldn’t hurt.”
She sounded unsure, but I jumped on the “maybe” like the lifeline to a solution that could work for us all. “Great! Want to go now? She’s with her babysitter. You’d love her, too. She’s taking such good care of her.”
“Not now,” Amanda said. Her knuckles were white around her cup of coffee. “Later.”
“When? Tonight?”
“No. Maybe… next weekend.”
A full week to wait? It was going to feel so long. And I just knew the second Amanda saw Gretchen again, she’d fall in love and never want to let her go.
Don’t push too hard. Don’t scare her off. Do this on her schedule.
“Next weekend sounds great.” I forced a smile.
13
Jaz
“Peek-a-boo,” I said, holding my hands in front of Gretchen’s face and taking them away. “Peek-a-boo!”
She wriggled and squealed. She was in her softest pink plush onesie, a matching pink hat pulled over her fuzzy head.
I glanced at the time on my phone, wishing a new message would arrive. Faye’s meeting with her sister had already gone on for an hour, and I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
Then again, I couldn’t quite decide what I wanted her to get out of the meeting.
I waved my hands over Gretchen’s face again, my heart clenching as I realized this could be our last time playing together. If this Amanda person was as spontaneous as she seemed, maybe she’d change her mind and whisk Gretchen away with her.
And while that might—or might not—have been best for Gretchen, I wasn’t ready to let this gorgeous baby out of my life. I was already dying to know what she’d be like at five, or ten, or twenty. Hell, where would she be when she was my age? Would she be into poetry? Would she be working on her masters, too?
Giving Gretchen a tap on the nose, I laughed at myself. The kid couldn’t even talk, and I was planning an entire career for her.
I just wanted so much for her. She might be getting a strange start on life, but I was sure she was going to do great despite all of that. And I’d do everything I could to help her get there.
My phone rang, and I picked up with a racing heart. “Hello?”
“Are you at home? I can come by in ten minutes to pick up Gretchen.”
“Okay. What happened?”
Faye sounded strained. “I’ll tell you when I get there.”
I wanted to whine and yell—I was dying from the suspense—but I hung up without a word of complaint. Faye had no obligation to tell me a thing. This was her life, her family. I had no horse in the race… except my concern for Gretchen.
When Faye got there, I was waiting at the door with Gretchen and her bag all packed up. The exhausted look on Faye’s face told me not to ask questions. Happily, she ignored the bag and came inside.
She’d been over to my place a few t
imes now. It was about the same size as hers, except I shared it with two roommates who were also grad students. They were out at the moment, it being a Saturday afternoon, so Faye and I sat down on the couch.
“So?” I asked quietly.
She filled me in—Amanda’s recalcitrance, the new details on Gretchen’s parentage, the possibility of adoption, and the agreement that Amanda would come visit Gretchen.
“But not until next week,” she finished.
“Why not? Did she say?”
“No. She seems almost scared. Maybe she needs time to prepare herself.”
“I guess it would be a big deal for her.”
Faye sighed and slumped sideways until her head was on my shoulder. Startled, I stiffened—then put my arm around her. “Hey, it’s okay.” My pulse was racing at the physical contact, the first we’d had in some time. Did this mean something? Did she want something between us after all?
“I know it’s okay,” she said into my shoulder. “It’s just a lot to take.”
I rubbed her back. If she was only doing this for comfort, I could give her comfort.
Despite the growing situation taking place between my legs. A situation that was completely inappropriate considering that there was a month-old baby lying on the table a foot away from us.
“It’s just a lot to take.” Faye sat up again, but didn’t seem to mind that I left my arm around her. “This adoption thing… I don’t know what to think.”
“It’s not like it’s for sure. I bet Amanda will decide she wants Gretchen after all.”
“And what then?” She looked at me, eyes pained, and I realized she wanted her gone about as much as I did.
“Hey… hey… hey.” I leaned in closer, searching her eyes.
And seeing an invitation there, I closed the distance between us.
The kiss was soft but intense, as a kiss can only be when you’ve been waiting so long for it. My spine tingled and my heart did flip after flip. I clung to the embrace as if by kissing hard enough, I’d make it so it’d never have to end.
Finally Faye pulled back and laughed. “I’ve been waiting a while for you to do that.”