by Hannah Weyer
Say what?
The outfits I got for Star, did they fit?
The girl had opened up her bag, her hand inside searching for something.
The Baby Phat and little Tommy outfits …
You bought those?
Um-hm, she said, pulling out her wallet. The Puma booties, I chose the 6-to-9 month so she had room to grow. AnnMarie just looked at her in shock. Muthafucker. This girl buying clothes for Star? CeeCee flipped open her wallet and held it out to Ann Marie.
AnnMarie saw Star’s face staring up at her, the picture tucked beneath the square of clear plastic. It was the same picture AnnMarie carried in her wallet, this girl rambling on about how Darius said she could be Star’s stepmother and how happy she is to be there if Star need anything, how she can’t wait to meet her, that baby so cute, she such a cute baby. AnnMarie’s head spinning, her whole body going numb.
’Cept the thumping of her heart. She wanted to rip it outta her chest. Crack her rib cage open, yank it out her own damn self. She felt a rustle next to her, the girl moving past down the aisle, but she kept her eye on the door. The green one that had opened and closed a dozen times, all the boys and men walking through in they jumpsuits. She looked down at her hand, pictured a gun there, a gun she’d raise up and shoot him with.
By December, that little plus-sign became a negative—she start bleedin’ in the middle of the night, AnnMarie curled up in a ball a pain, the crampy feeling taking her breath away. Blessed said, Throw the sheets out. They ain’t worth keeping.
Darius, he never even knew. She never told him. Muthafucker. Let him rot in jail. He tried calling. Do you accept the charges. She hung up the phone.
And the days went by like that. Rolling past in slow motion. A feeling like she underwater. Like she’d never been in a movie, never done nothing special at all.
family tree, remix
35
She woke up, blurry-eyed, four forty-five in the morning, the space on the bed next to her empty, Star standing in the crib, wet with pee. AnnMarie stumbled over, lifted her out, got her nightie off, onesie off, diaper sagging, searched in the dark for a clean one and found the pack empty. She brought Star into the bed anyway, pulling the covers up to her chin, hand on her belly the way she liked, and they slept again until the clang and hiss of the radiator woke them for good.
Later, she sat on the couch, Star in her lap sucking on a bottle while she called Darius on his phone. She knew he’d worked the night before, his shift ending sometime around one, but she didn’t know where he’d gone after and now all she got was the music beat he’d recorded before the sound of the beep.
She called again at seven, then again at seven fifteen. This time he picked up, music in the background, people’s voices, party going on somewhere. She said, Where you at? Star need diapers.
I be there, he said.
Darius had stayed in lockup for twenty-three days and when he got out, he told her the story. Showed up at her door one morning and she let him hang out to dry, telling her about the day the judge heard his case and how the store clerk and only witness never showed. Case dismissed. Judge gave him a lecture. Saying, You lucky this time. I don’t want you in my courtroom again. Change up. Act right. Get a job. You on probation. She heard him out, her foot holding the door open, waiting for him to get to the part about CeeCee. And something musta scared him, maybe it was jail time, maybe it was that she wasn’t letting him in ’cause he said, No more robbin’, no more fights. I want to live with you, AnnMarie. Let’s live together and be a true family. The girl CeeCee ain’t nothing.
She a stalker, AnnMarie.
You think I’ma let some bitch buy clothes for my child?
You think I can’t provide?
And he said it with such disgust that she believed him.
He started asking around. Somebody knew somebody who knew somebody worked at Puffy’s restaurant in the city so he got himself a job as a line cook and started bringing home takeout in a glossy copper-colored bag.
It was mad classy, he said, describing it to her one night when they were laying in bed side by side. White tablecloths, white couches and chairs, white marble counters. Chandeliers hanging. Waiters in white suits who took care of all the playas walking through the door. She had rolled over and kissed him. She said, When you gonna cook me something.
I cook for you, he said. Chef Supreme.
What’s that.
Darius laughed and rubbed her thigh. It’s my specialty, what you think. Cut a beef this thick, off the hindquarter, choicest part a the meat. Potato au gratin. Skinny beans, steamed down four minutes tops.
Listen to you, she said. You been schooled.
Yeah … yeah, he said, laughing. I cook for you.
Half past nine, Darius still wasn’t home. Diaperless and naked waist-down, Star peed all over the couch, leaving a big wet mark on the cushion but Blessed wasn’t up yet so AnnMarie covered it with a towel and let it be. She snuck into her mother’s room, found her purse, took the three dollars from her wallet, got Star bundled up in the stroller, got herself bundled too and took the elevator down to the street.
It was cold. Fingers burning, January wind whistling through the crumble-down building on the corner, whipping up dirt and fine dust, pushing it out into the street. Dang. She pulled her sweater sleeves down over her fingers, then set out, pushing the stroller with her knuckles, taking 20th to New Haven, the wheels popping over the cracked cement, her breath coming out in bursts of white cloud.
At the entrance of J&B, AnnMarie navigated the stroller in through the doors, shivered in the warm air then grabbed up a shopping basket and moved toward the aisles.
The store was mostly empty, a fella cutting up boxes in the cereal aisle, Frito man restocking chips on the shelves. She went past him to the canned goods, found the row of baby food. Seven months old, Star going through the jar food, three a day.
Peas, apple, sweet potato. 39 cent.
Pureed chicken. Beef and potato. Plain beef. 49 cent.
She did the math, put one jar back then headed to the diaper aisle, Star being good, playing with the bottle of apple juice, saying Yah, yah, yah, yah as she teethed on the nipple.
She paused in front of the Pampers, took down two packs of size 6-to-9 month and pretended to read the fine print. She set one of the packs into the shopping basket, then bent over Star, stroked her cheek, saying Yah, yah, you a good girl and with the other hand slipped the second pack into her shoulder bag.
She fussed with Star for a second longer, then laced her arm through the basket handle and pushed the stroller down the aisle to check out.
Breathe, she told herself. Star need these. Just breathe.
How much the Pampers? There’s no price on it.
AnnMarie plucked the Pampers from the basket and handed them to the checkout girl who scanned the bars.
$13.95
AnnMarie tsked. There ain’t no sale on? I thought there was a sale.
The girl snapped her gum.
There a sale goin’ on at Thriftway. Box a Pampers cost you $18.99.
Word?
Yeah. Eighty in a box. It’s a good deal you think about it.
I’ma go over there then. I’ll just get the baby food.
The girl set the pack of Pampers off to the side, rang up the baby food.
AnnMarie handed over the three dollars, collected twelve cent change.
She took her time, looping the plastic bag onto the handle of the stroller, tucking the blanket around Star, making sure she snug. Her heart lifting out her chest when the manager step out from the raised booth at the end of the aisle, but all he said was, Can you work a double? Talking to the salesgirl as AnnMarie pushed Star out the door into the cold, bright sun.
Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe. Ain’t nobody know. But Dean popped into her head right then and she felt a rush of shame. Stealing like she some kind a ghetto trash. Sonia and Melody—she’d be seeing them soon enough. Movie playing at the fes
tival. Two weeks, they flying to Park City, Utah. First screening for the people, Dean had said. It got her excited but nervous too. She’d asked about the money, she ain’t got no money. He said, Don’t worry, AnnMarie. We’re gonna take care of you. This made her smile. The thought of getting on a plane. Staying in a real hotel. Red carpet. Watching herself up on the big screen.
Fuck it. Ain’t nobody gonna know.
Near the corner of New Haven, she stopped, pulled her sweater sleeves down over her hands and when she looked up she saw a girl emerge from the bodega across the street, a phone pressed to her ear. For a moment, AnnMarie couldn’t move. Even from this distance, AnnMarie knew who it was. CeeCee.
What she got on. Little bitty miniskirt, flimsy sweater, no coat. Bitch must be crazy. Her lips moving, saying something into the phone, moving this way now, her shoulders up by her ears, hunched against the wind.
AnnMarie lifted the front wheels of the stroller and swiveled Star around. She thought she heard her name but she didn’t look back. Don’t go there, she thought. It ain’t worth it. You got things to do.
When she walked in, the pots and pans were piled on the couch which meant something in the oven and she could smell it too, something good like mac and cheese cooking. She parked the stroller by the door and let Star sleep.
What you cooking, Ma?
Blessed was sitting in the chair, still in her housedress, nylon cap but no wig, pill bottles open on the TV tray.
Not me. Miss Ondine.
In the kitchen, Ondine didn’t turn around. She said, It’s not for you, AnnMarie, it’s for my nephew’s party. He’s turning two.
AnnMarie tsked. Ma, why you let her do that. She supposed to be working, she come over here and cook food for her damn family, skinny-ass bitch.
AnnMarie!
Ondine turned from the stove with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. She set it in front of Blessed and said, Here your food. And you better do something about her or I’m leaving. I won’t have some little girl cussing me like that.
AnnMarie reached for the phone and punched in Darius’ number, listening to it ring, the whole while glaring at Ondine, her mother saying, Did you go to Family Services?
AnnMarie looked at her like, Can’t you see I’m on the phone.
Her mother waited.
I told you I did, AnnMarie said. I did it yesterday.
She heard tsking sounds from the kitchen.
What is wrong with her she always in my business?
Blessed ignored her. She said, You meet with Miss Patterson?
No, some other lady.
Did they give you food stamps?
I told you I ain’t asking for that.
She heard the shower go on. AnnMarie hung up the phone, scowling. Whyn’t you tell me he was home?
She went into the bedroom and looked around. Yeah, he home. Tokens and phone up on the dresser. She picked up his sweater, put her face to it and breathed. She hesitated, then picked up his phone and went scrolling.
Darius came into the room, towel around his waist, smelling like Irish Spring. She sat on the bed and watched him dress.
I saw that girl.
Who.
CeeCee, coming out the deli on New Haven.
Darius gave her a look, halfways smiling. I told you that girl stalking me.
He lay back on the bed, stretched an arm out for her to come close.
She lay down next to him, put her hand on his chest.
You got any Q-tips?
In the bathroom.
I looked. There ain’t none.
Why don’t you change your number.
Why.
AnnMarie shrugged, glancing at him, checking for guilt on his face.
AnnMarie! her mother called.
AnnMarie sat up, then crossed to the door.
It’s Family Services, Blessed said.
AnnMarie put the phone to her ear and listened. Lady said they got an opening at a playgroup. You don’t got day care? AnnMarie asked. No, it’s a playgroup run by a licensed caregiver. She’s covered under our plan. It’s five dollars a day. AnnMarie took down the name and address, told the lady she go check it out.
When she went back into the bedroom, Darius was under the covers, asleep. She sat on the edge of the bed, flipped open her notebook and found her to-do list.
School records from Ida B
Get GED
Day Care
Star clothes
New Coat/Glove
She crossed out Day Care and wrote play grupe/lisens care giver then wrote the name and address from the slip of paper into her notebook.
Her mother’d been on her to get herself on welfare, get the food stamps coming in, money for bills but AnnMarie just looked at her like, And end up like you? Huh-uh, no thank you. I got a movie festival to go to.
She pictured it. Like on Entertainment Tonight. Microphones up to her mouth, flashbulbs popping. Paparazzi ask, she in school, getting her diploma. Her daughter, Star Blaze Walker Greene—she in a playgroup.
She hadn’t told Darius about Utah. Two weeks to go, she still had time. She turned, put her hand on his back. She felt his skin warm against hers.
36
The next day Niki came over, said Gladiator playing. Come on, I take you. AnnMarie said Darius sleeping. She supposed to wake him at three o’clock for his shift. Niki said, You ever heard of a alarm clock.
So they folded up the stroller, hopped a dollar van and went out to Jamaica. When they got to the theater, they pushed Star around the block a couple times ’til she fell asleep but when they got up to the booth, the ticket fella said, You can’t bring a baby in here. Niki looked at him like he stupid.
She said, You see she sleeping?
The fella hesitated, then said, Go on but if she starts disrupting …
Yeah, yeah, Niki said, go sell some popcorn.
The whole time watching, AnnMarie pictured herself up there with Russell Crowe, wearing that beautiful gown. All that trickery and violence. It was mad violent. Slaves getting ripped apart by lions. About three-quarters through, Star woke up and started squirming. Niki held her, shushing her softly and she was okay again until the end.
They walked out the theater into the cold, talking about how badass all them slaves was, about the lions looking mad real even though you could see how they faked it ’cause what actor gonna get up in there with some live animals. They kept talking inside the dollar van, chatting up a storm, rewinding the movie in they minds, busting up over the perverted brother and his lecherous ways, and by the time they stepped out the van, AnnMarie’d decided Darius had to see the movie, how she’d drag him there if she had to. But when they got back to her building, AnnMarie slowed, then froze completely.
Inside the first set of doors stood CeeCee—don’t know how she got in but there she was, inside, shivering in that same flimsy sweater.
Hey AnnMarie, CeeCee said, her teeth chattering she so cold. Blue eye shadow and that lip-gloss mouth.
AnnMarie spun the stroller around, got the key in the second door and said, What you want, CeeCee.
CeeCee dropped into a squat and smiled, touching Star’s toes through the blanket, looking up at Niki now, saying, She so cute ain’t she?
AnnMarie pulled the stroller away. I said what you want, CeeCee?
CeeCee stood up and straightened her skirt. I need to talk to Darius.
He ain’t here.
He said he be here playing with Star.
You see he ain’t here, don’t you.
Niki shifted, looking between the two of them.
Okay, but I got to talk to him.
He ain’t here. He ain’t here. He ain’t here. Get it.
CeeCee seemed to shrink. Skinny and frail in that sweater hanging down her thighs and for a second it looked like she gonna cry.
But AnnMarie couldn’t help herself. She said, You know Darius says you stalking him. You know that, right? He says you ain’t nothing but a stalker bitch.
; CeeCee tossed her head like it ain’t no thing. But AnnMarie saw her eyes narrow.
Then she said, He says the same thing about you.
AnnMarie didn’t know how she got upstairs, but there she was, on the couch, that sick feeling lifting through her chest, Niki on the floor playing with Star, saying something but all she could hear was CeeCee’s voice in her head. You know we’s having a baby together. Didn’t he tell you?
She’d wanted to punch that girl, stick a knife in her eye but she hadn’t. She’d just stood there like a fucking retard, unable to move. Niki’s eyes on her, making the whole thing worse.
What? AnnMarie asked Niki now. What you say?
I said, She’s a dancer at Crush.
Niki stood, setting Star in AnnMarie’s lap. That’s how I know her. Crush. Remember that place Nadette work at for a while?
AnnMarie didn’t say anything.
Niki stared at her. She waved a hand in front of her face, laughing.
I’m out, Niki said.
What, where you going?
I gotta go, she said. I’ll check you later.
Before she left, Niki kissed two fingers and blew her the peace sign.
AnnMarie barely looked up. The disbelief and shock spinning itself into a mass of burning rage. Star half bouncing in her lap, batting at her face with her little hands until AnnMarie took hold of her wrists and stopped her. Stop, she said, pushing herself up off the couch. Swinging Star onto her hip, she headed for him.
He was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. AnnMarie shifted Star onto the other hip.
You know who was downstairs?
Darius didn’t answer, his eyes on his own reflection. She said, That bitch CeeCee. She’s telling me you says I’m the stalker. She says soon as she has her baby, you goin’ off to live with her.
Darius frowned but still didn’t speak.
Did you hear what I said?
He kept brushing.
She pushed him. Ain’t your teeth clean yet? Spit that out.
And she saw him do it. Purse his lips and spit the whole mess into her face. She felt it land wet and disgusting and she couldn’t speak she was so shocked, hearing him say, Bitch don’t touch me.