“So, I have your home study profile all set, but now I need to ask you some perhaps uncomfortable questions. It’s routine, really. But I have to ask.” He couldn’t look at her face. He stared at his hands pressed to his knees, imagining them blue and furry as Beast’s.
“Have either of you ever experienced sexual or physical abuse, either as a child or adult?”
They both answered in unison, “No.” Though Joshua was fairly certain that wasn’t true, especially for Bianca.
“Do either of you have any history of mental illness, anywhere in your family?”
He shook his head no, scratching nervously at his pants leg, trying to stop the shaking that had taken over his body.
Bee said, “Well, my dad dealt with depression for many years. Other than that, no.”
“Okay, good to note. Thank you. Let’s see, just a few more questions . . . Do either of you or any close family members smoke, take recreational drugs, or consume alcohol?”
“No, neither of us do any of those things. Neither does anyone in our close family,” Joshua said. His temples throbbed, his tongue felt too big for his mouth. “As you read in the paperwork, I’m not in contact with any of my family members since I was raised in foster care, so I wouldn’t really know what my family does or doesn’t do. But Bee’s family is mine and Jayden’s family now, and they’re all upstanding citizens.” It was overkill. He sounded like he was reading off some Happy Family brochure.
“Good. So we can check that off. Do you own any firearms or other weapons, and, if so, are they stored in the home?”
“No,” Bee said. “We don’t believe in them.”
We’re just a hippie, peace-loving family here, ma’am. We’re all poets and tree-huggers, but we don’t blaze up.
“Okay, this all sounds great. My final question has to do with siblings in the home, so it’ll apply to your expected little one.” She flashed what was supposed to be a reassuring smile, but Joshua didn’t buy it. His fingers tingled. He’d been digging his nails into his legs.
She continued, her voice professional and placid. But Joshua’s ears buzzed with Olivia’s taunting voice. “The question asks how you feel about the prospective child in relation to other children already in the home, but we can tweak it. Explain how you feel about the new baby in relation to Jayden. For this question, I’d like you to answer individually.”
Joshua spoke first, trying to keep his lips from quivering. “Well, for me, Jayden is my son already, and he’s been my son since birth. I’m biologically his uncle, I raised him, and, until Bee, we’re all each other had. So no matter what, he’ll always be my boy. I can’t wait for this new baby. I’m excited to raise one with Bee from the beginning. But they’re both my kids.”
Cristina jotted notes. She better not be twisting your words, like social workers and judges are prone to do.
“Yes, I agree,” Bee said, her tone matching Cristina’s. Wasn’t she as anxious as him? How did she hide it so well? “I’ve only known Jayden for a year, yet I’ve considered him family from day one. He’s the funniest, sweetest, most compassionate little boy I’ve ever met. He stole my heart from our first date, trying to make a good ‘’preshun’ on me. I fell in love with Josh, of course, and married him, but I also fell in love with Jayden, and married him as well. He’s my son, and I’m his Bee. Nothing can change that.”
Yes, something can change that. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and pulled at the collar of his button-down shirt. Cristina could change that.
But Cristina was smiling as she said, “That’s lovely to hear, I have to tell you.” His heart was racing. They’d done it. They were in the clear. “Well folks, I have a full report, so all I need to do is conduct the home inspection.” He checked his Superman watch. How long did these things last? Time worked differently for grownups than kids. He couldn’t remember it ever taking so long when he was at Patti’s. He willed Cristina to hurry.
She listed off the items she needed to inspect. Safety plugs in all the outlets. Bookshelves bolted to the wall. Knives, matches, medicine, household-cleaning agents all secured and locked away where children could not reach.
She’d already seen Jayden’s bedroom, and that looked great.
“Will he share a room with his sister?” she asked.
“Not at first,” Joshua said. “She’ll sleep in our room, then a crib in Jayden’s room.”
“Sounds good. If you don’t mind then, I’ll need to go ahead and see your room.”
“Sure.” He opened the door and held his breath. Jubilee was in their room.
“Oh, how sweet,” Cristina exclaimed. “You already have it all set for her. What a lovely bassinet.”
He nodded. Keep your mouth shut, Bee. Play along.
Bee moved across the room and picked up Jubilee. It happened so fast Joshua didn’t have time to stop her. What could he have done anyway?
This was it. It was over.
Bee held Jubilee close, patting her back.
Cristina smiled. “I love it.”
Joshua sucked in his breath sharply. What? Loved what?
“You two are practicing for when the baby gets here. What a smart idea. I’ve often encouraged couples to practice for new babies using dolls.”
Bee opened her mouth to speak.
What happens to a dream deferred? Maybe it just sags, like a heavy load. Or does it explode?
He couldn’t find out.
“Yes, we’re practicing. For the baby. With this doll.”
He said it, but he couldn’t look at Bee.
“That’s wonderful. Really wonderful.” Cristina jotted a few more notes, smiling.
Bee sank into the rocking chair.
“Bianca?” Cristina asked.
Bee didn’t respond. She looked like she’d been punched in the stomach and had the wind knocked out of her, the way she told him had happened once when she’d been playing Superman on the swings and had flown off and landed on her belly on the dirt. She’d tried crying out to her dad but nothing would come out. It was the first time she remembered not being able to talk when she had something to say.
Now Joshua had done that to her. Knocked her into the dirt.
“You know, this happens,” he answered Cristina, keeping his voice steady. “She gets exhausted from the pregnancy. But she’s a trooper. She’ll be fine.” He couldn’t look at Bee. His stomach coiled, the back of his neck stinging with what felt like scorpions.
“Oh, I remember that, believe me. By seven months, all I wanted to do was sleep. Well, you two, we’re pretty much done. And I believe I can safely say that everything appears in tip-top shape. You should hear back from our office soon, but I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about. I’m not sure what that call was about, honestly. Seems everything here is in great order. I’m wishing you three all the best with the new little one.”
Joshua thanked her, his heart still pounding.
Cristina turned to Bee, who was still clutching Jubilee and staring out the window. “I hope you feel better, Bianca. I wish you a safe, healthy delivery.” Bee turned her head, as if she’d just noticed there were still other people in the bedroom. The corners of her mouth were sagging. Gone was the brilliant flash she’d shown before. The amber glow in her eyes had faded. Joshua hated himself. He wanted to hold Bee.
Cristina walked through the doorway, clipboard in hand, assuring them again that they’d hear from her soon but that everything looked great. “We appreciate all your help, Cristina.” He no longer hated her. She’d been there to do her job. To protect a kid. To ensure a good family stayed together. She wasn’t the enemy. No, he didn’t hate her.
Joshua now hated himself.
As he shut the bedroom door behind him to walk Cristina out, Bee said, quietly, under her breath, so softly Joshua was sure Cristina couldn’t have heard, “She�
�s not a doll.”
He sighed, so goddamn exhausted. At the front door, he shook Cristina’s hand again and kept up his mask long enough for final platitudes. They’d passed the test. Now, what did that mean for his wife’s mental health?
He reopened the bedroom door, half afraid of what he’d find. She’d remained by the window, clutching Jubilee, an empty glaze over both of their faces.
“I’m so sorry, Bee.” He knelt on the floor at her feet, reached out to touch her. She didn’t move. She didn’t even seem to notice he was there. She just stared and stared. His beautiful, porcelain wife, and her beautiful, porcelain daughter.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. The social worker wouldn’t have understood. She would’ve put a label on you. Don’t you know that? She would have taken our son away. I had to say it, Bee. I don’t believe it. Jubilee is our daughter. That’s what’s real. Please know that I never would have said that if it was not absolutely necessary.”
She didn’t flinch. But he looked up and saw tears streaming down the stone of her face, smearing her black eyeliner and creating sad, dark lines down her cheeks. She grasped Jubilee tighter to her chest and began rocking.
Joshua felt horrible, but he’d done what he had to do. He’d protected them all. Bianca had to see that.
What had Rosana said at Thanksgiving? Just give her time.
Thirty-one
Ditchwater Bee
Before Jubilee
From Bianca’s mattress on the floor, she stared at Gabe slouching in Lily’s old patio chair across the bedroom. He was playing on his phone, and she could tell he was only pretending to listen to her day, her doctor’s appointment, updates on the baby. He didn’t give her anything more than grunts, and her cheeks burned with a dull red flash. She petted Kanga, curled at her side on the floor beside the mattress, with one hand, bit her fingernails on the other hand until the skin around the edges peeled ragged. They were living in a truce. Some silent in-between, purgatorial holding pen. She felt stuck.
His cell phone rang; Kanga looked up at the noise, the tags on her collar jangling. Bianca could tell from the way Gabe looked at the screen and the way he answered the call that it was Adriana, the skinny beach-girl who was “like his cousin.” He cut Bianca off midsentence as she was describing the classified ad for a yard sale she’d responded to at the newspaper. The ad had said, “infant girl items: never used. complete nursery set: car seat, clothes, swing, toys, dolls & more.” She thought of the six-word novel often attributed to Ernest Hemingway: “for sale: baby shoes, never worn.” The saddest flash fiction ever written. Perhaps this yard sale was less sad: It was a boy instead; the doctors had been wrong. Whatever the reason for the sale, Bianca had gone and bought everything since the items were brand new and she couldn’t have found them so cheap anywhere else. She’d piled the stash in her trunk and back seat, and set up the bassinet in the living room, hoping Gabe would notice when he came over. But he hadn’t noticed. He wasn’t listening.
On the phone, she overheard Adriana say she was at a furniture store in Newport Beach, buying a couch. Moving out of her mom’s place and on her own. Bianca couldn’t hear most of what she said, but Gabe was laughing. He never laughed with Bianca anymore. His care for her seemed robotic at best. He set her prenatal vitamin on the bathroom sink. He got up in the middle of the night to get her water. One afternoon she was cramping and spotting in week thirteen, and he drove her to the urgent care. She was fine, the doctor said, but take it easy. No stress. No lifting anything heavy. At week twenty, Gabe had stopped asking her to give him blowjobs when he saw it made her gag.
But he didn’t laugh.
He got off the phone, still smiling.
Bianca tried again. “The doctor says she’s growing. Everything looks normal and healthy.”
“Hmm.”
“Want to see a picture?”
“Sure.” His voice was noncommittal, and he drew the word out as if it took effort.
Most nights, he camped out with her in the empty house-for-sale. He hated Kanga’s dog hair all over everything and how messy Bianca was, so he was always complaining, but he still slept with her. They watched movies and he took her out to dinner and ate the food she cooked for him in her little makeshift kitchen with the hand-me-down supplies. But he’d stopped asking questions about the pregnancy or the baby and never wanted to come to any doctor’s appointments. She argued with him about it, angry that he used to go with Katrina to hers. “What do you want from me, Bianca?” he’d ask. “I’m here, aren’t I?” Was he? She didn’t know.
She pulled sonogram photos from her purse. “She’s a girl.”
“Cool. Do you have a name yet?”
“No, but I’m thinking about biblical names. Maybe something to connect with my mom again, you know. Do you have any suggestions?”
“Nope.” He checked his cell phone.
“Are you expecting another call?”
“No, Bianca. I’m not.” He said her name like they were strangers, acquaintances at most. “Am I not allowed to look at my phone now?”
Her cheeks burned again. She wanted to snap at him but felt too heavy for a fight. Her stomach swelled and her skin stretched against the baby, kicking all day.
The phone rang. Bianca knew damn well it was Adriana. She stood quickly, startling Kanga, and grabbed the phone from Gabe before he could stop her. “Hello,” she started in a melodramatic tone. “This is Bianca, Gabe’s pregnant girlfriend. Who the fuck is this?” She should’ve grabbed the phone a long time ago, back when Gabe had cheated on her with Katrina.
Adriana stayed quiet on the line.
Gabe lunged toward Bianca, yelling. “Give me back my phone. Come on, this isn’t funny.” Kanga was barking, like it was a game. Cell phone keep away. Catch the cheating puto in the middle.
Bianca clutched the phone in one hand, her belly with the other, and shuffled toward the living room, Kanga at her heels; she perched on the coffee table beside the artificial Christmas tree and fake presents she’d never taken down although it was nearly May.
She kept Adriana on the phone. In an affected, high-pitched, singsong, she pretended to mask her disdain. “Adriana, poor dear. I hear you’ve been having some boyfriend troubles. As in, causing trouble with other women’s boyfriends.”
Gabe followed her, snatching for his phone as Bianca scooted away, almost falling off the table but managing to break her fall with her free hand. She still held the phone.
“Excuse me, Adriana. My Gabe is trying to get frisky with me.” She was ridiculous but couldn’t help it. She was trembling.
She scuttled off the floor and waddled back to the bathroom, locking herself in. Hide-and-seek. Come find me. God, please, come find me. Kanga scratched at the door, whining.
“Look, Adriana,” Bianca said, the fake sugar gone from her voice. “I know what you’re up to. Gabe and I have been together for years and we’ve gone through a lot. I don’t know if he told you, but I’ve lost a baby before and I don’t want to lose this one. All the stress of wondering whether or not my boyfriend is cheating on me, with you, it’s too hard to take. Please do us both a favor and have some respect for yourself. Go find a boyfriend who’s available. Someone without a pregnant girlfriend and another kid already here.”
Adriana remained silent, but she stayed on the phone. Her passive-aggressiveness inflamed Bianca even more. She wanted to reach through the receiver and grab her skinny neck. Say something, you cunt.
Outside the bathroom, Gabe pounded his body against the door. “Open up, Bee! You’re being so rude. Leave her alone. She hasn’t done anything.” Bianca hated that he was defending his tramp. She didn’t care if Adriana was his godfather’s daughter.
“Do we have an understanding?” Bianca asked. Adriana didn’t say a word, but Bianca could hear her breathing. “What? I’m not worth answering? That’s how low you think of m
e?”
Still no response.
“You coward,” she said. “You fucking cunt. Answer me.” The bathroom door burst open in a blast of splintering wood, and Gabe seized the phone from her shaking hand.
“Adriana?” he called into the receiver. “I’m sorry about that. She gets crazy sometimes. Look, I’ll talk to you later.”
He hung up and glared at Bianca. She plopped onto the toilet seat, tears stinging her eyes. Her crotch and pelvis ached. She was having a contraction.
“Do you love her?”
“Why are you so fucking crazy? Can’t I have a friend? I’ve known Adriana since we were babies. Why do you always think I’m messing around on you?”
“Because you are.”
“Because you’re insane, that’s why. I don’t even think you should be having this baby. You’ll smother it like you smother me, like you smother everything. God, Bianca. Why do you have to push so hard? Why do you have to make everything into some tragedy?”
“I wanted us to be a family. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I know, Bee. I know. But you push me. Why’d we have to have this baby now? We aren’t ready and you know it.”
“What are you saying?”
He sighed, deeply. Ran his hands through his spiky, black hair. He looked at Bianca like he was afraid of her. Afraid to speak. Finally, he said, “I’ve been thinking of moving up to Orange County.”
“What?”
“There’s a job up there, Adriana told me about. With my padrino.”
“Were you planning to invite me?”
He sighed again, locked his hands behind his head. “I mean, where would you live? Even with my padrino’s help, I don’t think I’d make enough to support us both yet, with you on maternity. Would you be able to find a job up there to pay rent?” He wasn’t asking.
“So what, Gabe? Say what you’re trying to say.”
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