Fate's Redemption

by Brandace Morrow

  “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll help you. I swear.”

  “I don’t want this baby.” She says it against my chest, and I barely make out the words. I don’t think she wanted me to hear them. I don’t think she wanted to hear them. Despite everything, I did and my wheels start turning.

  “Is that man your dad?” Her skin is too dark to be biracial, but I have to ask the question.

  “No. Step.” He’s her step dad. I swallow and squeeze her tighter before I ask my next question.

  “Is he the father of your baby?”

  Her frame freezes up and she tries to pull away from me. I shush her, not letting her free, until she cries harder and finally nods her head. I nod, seeing us in the mirror for the first time. Her shoulder heave as she lets go of her admission and my arms flex, holding her as tight as I can.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay.” I rub her back, her protruding stomach pushing into mine. I feel, miraculously, the movement of her unborn child. It causes me to pull away, to bring one of my hands to her face, the other to her stomach. “Listen to me right now,” I command in a voice that might have been too strong.

  Her eyes meet mine, wet and red.

  “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “When’s your birthday?” I shoot back quickly while I have her talking.

  “Three weeks.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Dominique.”

  “Okay Dominique. Tell me what you want. Right now. What do you want more than anything?”

  Dominique glances around the small room before taking a breath and telling me honestly, “I just want gone.”

  “Do you want to go to college?”

  She nods.

  “Will your family let you do that?”

  The young girl shakes her head. “I have to raise the baby.”

  My hands come to either side of her face. “Listen to me now. If you want to go to college, if you stepdad is hurting you, if you aren’t consensual, I will help you. You call 1-800-Call-Hope. Tell them your name, and a safe place to meet you. I’ll be there. I can get you out of this.”

  Chapter 3

  When I’m stressed you can usually find me in a field full of cows. It sounds weird, but the horse that I’m on is trained in her craft. She selects her prey, and systematically singles him from the herd. My job is to pretty much hang on and egg her on. It’s a thrill, and you can feel the horses’ excitement when they love their job. To come from a five year marriage that was the ultimate definition of abusive, and stand up to those kinds of predators everyday and save versions of myself I need the kind of focus that Barley shows when she’s cutting calves.

  Dominique has shaken me in a way that I didn’t think was possible after three years. I’ve seen the evidence too many times to count, and to think that it’s happening under a mother’s nose, or that she could even be aware makes me want to find that child and protect her and her baby. It’s been four days and I still haven’t heard anything from the hotline.

  Once Barley and I are covered in sweat and dirt I head us back to the barn with a flick of my wrist and a tap of my ankles. My parents had owned a ranch so riding is second nature to me, but Danny’s spread is something altogether different. Nestled in the foothills of California wine country, having the privacy of an organic gated community, the fifty acres here is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. It’s home.

  “Hey Kinley. How was your ride?” Deb asks me while taking the reins.

  “It’s always exactly what I need.” I smile at the workhand and dismount from the saddle. “Where’s Phil off to?”

  “Oh you know Phil. He’s tinkering with things best left alone,” she grumbles about her husband, before we both start laughing. Phil gets bored easily and starts trying to ‘improve’ things.

  “Well make sure he gets whatever grease he’s covered in off before dinner.”

  Deb nods her understanding. “At the pool house?”

  “Yeah, I’m making a roast since it’s getting so cold. Maybe some hot chocolate?”

  “I’ll bring the schnapps,” she says with a wink. Walking up the hill, I follow the bath to the pool and outdoor covered kitchen to check on the marinating meat.

  When I get into the house a few minutes later, the dog follows me in, and I get tackled around the knees by little arms. I ruffle Ollie’s hair and smile into eyes the color of a summer sky. “Hi, baby. Where’s Daddy?”

  “He say he be back. More calls in the office,” Rosa, the housekeeper and sometimes nanny says with a roll of her eyes and thick accent.

  “Can you watch Ollie for a few minutes while I take a quick shower?”

  Rosa shoos me away with a kitchen towel and takes the baby into the living room.

  “Five minutes, Rosa.”

  “Is no trouble, Mija. We play.”

  When shampoo is in my hair and my eyes are closed, I hear the sound of the bathroom door open. I don’t have a chance to be alarmed, because the sound of rapping has me stifling a giggle even as it brings tears to my eyes.

  I quickly rinse my eyes so that I don’t miss the show. Danny’s bobbing his head, his body rolling in a perfect rhythm to his words. He’s calling me Porsche, and the acoustics in the room are giving me goosebumps as he sings parts of the song about a car and getting under the hood, pulling the top down. It’s an upbeat song, not that I know it. But Danny bobs and weaves to the song, at one point jumping on the balls of his feet.

  As he finally gets quiet with the last verse I clap slowly. Danny’s eyes are drawn to my naked chest, and I watch him grab a towel blindly. I move my head to the side and let him stroke the soft fabric down my neck and breasts. “I’m not freaking out, why did you rap?” I ask quietly.

  Danny works down one arm, then starts on the other. “You may not be freaking out that I can see, but I know this girl has you stressed out. Plus, who doesn’t love a Porsche?” I giggle and lightly slap his shoulder, getting a blinding smile in return. The first time Danny rapped to me, I was having a panic attack in a hotel gym bathroom about having to go home to my husband.

  “I love you, Danny.”

  Danny drops to his knees and rubs the towel up my legs. Finally he meets my eyes and kisses the top of my thigh. “I love you more.”

  My breath hitches, and I whisper my protest. “No.”

  Danny pulls back, both of his big calloused hands on the outside of my thighs, rubbing up and back down to my knees. He raises his eyebrows. “No?”

  “I meant no I love you more. Don’t stop.”

  He watches his hands move from my thighs, over my hips and the curve of my waist. Danny barely touches my breasts with his fingertips before bringing them back down, at the same time rising to his knees. “You couldn’t possibly love me the way I love you, baby.” I open my mouth to continue the gushes of marital bliss, but Danny steals my words with his tongue.

  I close my eyes on a sigh and let him win the fight happily. As he plays me like one of his guitars, I see stars behind my eyelids. He strums over me, hitting the perfect cords until I’m clutching his head and moaning my ecstasy. Danny rises slowly, and my core clenches at the sheen on his lips. He catches my lips on the way up, since he towers over me. When his tongue rubs with mine I suck it into my mouth, tasting myself and getting aroused all over again.

  “Dinner’s soon, babygirl. I just wanted to take the edge off for you, we’ll finish this later.”

  I pull back to see he’s actually serious, so I throw a pouty lip at him, but have to duck fast as he snaps those straight teeth at me like he’s going to bite it off. I giggle all the way into my closet.

  Danny follows me to lean against the door, tracking every move I make with his eyes. I stop with my bra on one shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to take me on this bench?” I ask, pointing to the low lying narrow bench at the side of the room. “It can be quick.”

  He sighs deeply and runs his hands over his face. “No,” he mumbles.
Pushing away from the door, he says more firmly, “No. The family’s waiting, Ollie’s going to get cranky soon. We’ll have time tonight. I love you.”

  I smile at his back as he leaves. “I love you more.”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” I say to the closed door.

  “I can’t hear you!” he says from the other side. I consider yelling back to him, but just laugh instead.

  Chapter 4

  The call comes in the middle of the night, after an exhausting night of mixed drinks, salsa dancing, family and friends, not to mention what happened after the baby was asleep.

  “’Lo?” I force one eye open when I don’t hear anything and the buzzing doesn’t stop. I press another button. “Hello?” I croak.

  “Hello ma’am, this is Call Hope call center. I was told to call you if a certain woman contacted us.”

  I sit up quickly and turn on the lamp beside the bed. Danny mumbles and grumbles in his sleep, but I just put him over away from the light. “Dominique?”

  “Yes ma’am. She called about five minutes ago. She wanted to relay that she will be at the Target in Yves tomorrow at noon. It’s her lunch break at school and she walks there.”

  “Thank you for telling me. I’ll be there.”

  “Goodnight ma’am.”

  The next day I force myself to grab drinks from the coffee shop and a slice of pizza. I sit at the small bar so that I’m facing the baristas and wait. I see Dominique the second she rounds the corner. Her braids sway with her movements along her back. She wears an oversized sweatshirt, and if I hadn’t seen her before then I would never guess she was about to have a baby. I watch her eyes scan the room until they land on mine. I force my face into a slight smile, knowing that strong emotions will terrify her into leaving.

  She climbs onto the stool with a roll that reminds me again of her baby and the challenge of such high stools. “I’m sorry, we can get a table if you want. I didn’t consider your condition when I chose these seats. I just thought it would be easier for you to not have to worry about being seen with me,” I say, sliding over the food and hot chocolate.

  “It’s fine. Thank you for the food. I can pay you back.”

  I wave her offer away and follow her lead to facing forward. I read different coffee choices for a few minutes as Dominique eats. Judging from how fast she’s eating I regret not getting more pizza. I get the attention of a barista as she passes and order a slice of carrot cake and milk. When they’re delivered I slide those over too.

  “Carrot in a cake?” Dominique asks skeptically.

  “With cream cheese frosting. It’s amazing.” I push the plate closer to her.

  She pushes it back toward me. “Why don’t you eat it?”

  I nudge it back. “I already ate, and I got it for you.”

  Finally the girl cuts a tiny piece off, but it doesn’t take her long to return for more. After she finishes her milk and wipes her mouth on the sleeve of her hoodie, she slides a sideways glance at me. “I looked you up, or your center or whatever.”

  “Yeah? How’d you do that?”

  “At the library at school. You killed your husband.”

  I take a deep breath and nod gently. “Yes, but only because I didn’t have any choice.” I wait.

  “He did stuff to you? Made you do stuff?”

  “Yes he did, and that’s why I started the call centers. I didn’t have anyone to go to and I never want someone else to feel like that.”

  Dominique sits back in her seat. “Why didn’t you go to the police?”

  “I did. My husband forced me to retract the accusations. I had someone see what was happening, even when I didn’t want anyone to know. He saved me.”

  “Your husband now.” It’s a statement but I answer anyway.

  “Yes. Danny noticed the signs the same way I did with you.”

  “What’s the process to get me away from him?” she asks in a shaky voice.

  I take a deep breath. “Well, you have two options. The first is we wait until you’re eighteen. You said that was just a few weeks away, right?” I wait for her nod before I continue.

  “When you become eighteen there is no legal standing for your parents to force you back into their house. You walk out on your birthday and you don’t have to answer to them, and we can protect you. He would never find you. The second option is we get you out right now, through Child Protective Services. You would go into a foster home assigned by the state, there would be an investigation and things would hit the papers pretty quickly.”

  Dominique’s head is already shaking but I raise a hand to stall her protests. “If you have reason to think your life or the life of your child is in danger, we have contacts with the system. It sounds scary, but they’re really good people. Can I ask you what you want to do after high school?”

  Dominique pushes the tines of her fork into the crumbs of her cake. “I’ve been planning on graduating early for a long time. When I found out I was pregnant and they wouldn’t let me get rid of it, graduating early was suddenly a great idea to my parents.” She shutters and becomes silent. I stay as immobile as possible, barely breathing as I wait her out.

  “I applied to colleges before I knew.”

  “Did you get accepted?” I ask just as quietly.

  She nods, a tear sliding down her cheek. “Yeah.”

  “Which ones?”

  Her soft brown eyes meet mine as another tear falls. “All of them.”

  I swallow thickly and bring my face close to hers. “Close your eyes for me.”

  The girl shoots me a wary look before closing her eyes. I whisper, “if you could go to any college in the country, where would it be? What sweatshirt are you wearing a year from now if all of your dreams come true?”

  I watch her lips tremble. More tears fall from her eyes, and I have to restrain myself from wiping them off of her apple cheeks. “William and Mary.”

  I smile and hand Dominique a napkin when she finally opens her eyes again. “Virginia, wow! Isn’t that the oldest university in the States?”

  She smiles behind the napkin she’s blotting her face with. “Second, Harvard is the first. William and Mary is where Thomas Jefferson and sixteen signers of the Declaration of Independence went though.”

  “Oh my God, you’re going to be the president some day!” I exclaim, and am rewarded with the best sound. Dominique’s laugh is like tinkling bells. It makes your smile wider, and before you know what happened, you’re laughing too.

  “I do want to be a lawyer,” she admits.

  I want to jump up and down. I want to pump my fists. She’s dreaming. “Most politicians are lawyers.” I get another smile and eye roll, so I lift my hands in surrender. “Just sayin’.”

  Dominique checks her watch and sighs, sliding off of the seat. “I need to get back to school. Can I think about what we talked about?”

  “Yes, absolutely! If you want, I can get you a cell phone, or just give you my number. You cannot get caught though, not just for your health, but your baby.”

  The girl nods absently as she thinks. “Can we meet here on Friday, same time?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Did you know that William and Mary was founded in 1693? Can you imagine the history and great minds that place as seen?”

  “Well what do you think she’s going to do?” Danny asks, before making wop sounds as he spins the helicopter blades to make it fly.

  I set the laptop aside and join the boys on the floor. After grabbing an ambulance I make a horrible rendition of a siren that makes both boys laugh. I laugh with them and kiss Ollie’s sweet head before I answer his dad.

  “I have no idea, but whatever it is, is what we’ll do everything possible. Isn’t that right little man?”

  “Yeah!” Ollie claps and make’s my heart all over. I love them more than life. A few years ago I couldn’t imagine my life without them, but dreams do come true.

  Chapter 5

  “Are you ready for Chri
stmas, Bubba?” I ask Ollie as I tuck him into his bed. His blue eyes go unfocused as he thinks.

  “I think so,” he says but his ‘think’ sounds like ‘fink’. I fight to control the grin that can’t help but form. If there is one think I’ve learned since Ollie has come inot my life, is that the love of a mother is unconditional, at least for me. When I let this little guy into my heart, I would move mountains just to see a twinkle in his eye. There really was no choice in him being there. From the second his daddy brought him home from the only home he had ever known, he had a place with us. Sure he’s Danny’s blood, but he found out about Ollie’s paternity when he was almost two years old. We learned to be parents together, and the journey of raising a child is priceless. Why then am I hesitant to have another?

  “What you want Santa to bring?”

  Ollie plays with his blanket, little pudgy fingers that are slowly losing the dimples around the knuckles that mark him a baby. “It’s a secret.” Secwet.

  I lean closer and whisper, “What is it? You can tell me and I’ll make sure he knows.”

  “Well Parker and Josie gots people to play with all the time. I want one of those.”

  My brow furrows. “You mean like going to the park?”

  “No. Like the kinds that stay at their house. I want that.”

  “Can you see these people? Are they around all the time?” I ask, thinking maybe he means an imaginary friend.

  “No, Momma,” he says, getting frustrated. “Parker says his cries and takes his toys, but they have fun too. Josie always gets to play with hers and shares toys. I wanna share.”

  I sit up. “Are you talking about a brother and sister?” I ask, recalling that the kids in his daycare class have siblings. Ollie’s eyes light up.

  “Yeah! I want one. But Josie says it takes forever and ever.” I blink at the almost four year old and wonder fleetingly if Danny has been talking to his son about having a baby. I dismiss the thought as it forms.