The One You Feed

by Renee Miller

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  She shook her head, picked up a plate from the dish rack, and put it in the cupboard above. The hinge was loose. When she closed the door, it hung open just a little. “I’m not starving myself. Like I said, sometimes I’m just not hungry.”

  “I’m trying to understand you, Mom.”

  “Worry about yourself. I’m a big girl.”

  “Don’t you want to be happy?”

  Dana sighed. “It’s not always about what you want, not when you want to have a family. I can’t explain it so you’d understand. You’ll see when you’re in love that it’s not always black and white. I can’t change who I am, even if it’s pathetic, and I can’t change who he is. I’m sorry.”

  Hayley wanted to scream, to bang her fist on a wall, but she knew that would only sink her mother further into the oblivion she had fallen into.

  “You’re always sorry,” Hayley said instead. Her anger dissolved into sadness. “Why don’t you call your doctor?”

  “And say what? My daughter thinks I’m too skinny?” Dana continued to put dishes away. She always cleaned when she was stressed. “He can’t help me. No one can.”

  Hayley stood and grabbed her coat from the chair. “If you won’t ask for it, then you need to figure out how to help yourself. I’ve had enough of this shit.”

  —

  Dana threw the plate she held into the cupboard and leaned on the counter, Hayley’s words churning in her head. It’s not like she asked for this life. It’s what she was given. How did you fight that? Hayley couldn’t possibly understand. She had loving parents who gave a shit about her and she was a lot stronger than Dana could ever hope to be.

  If someone pissed Hayley off, they knew it and so did everyone else. She didn’t hesitate to strike back, because she was confident and strong. It was easy to be confident when people weren’t beating you down every time you tried to get up.

  Her kids had it way better than she had. She’d made sure of it. So, they heard her and Ronny fight now and then. Who didn’t witness their parents fighting? They weren’t any different than anyone else.

  Dana mulled it over for a moment. She was hardly the first woman who did what was necessary to make her marriage work. Wouldn’t be the last either.

  She turned away from the cupboard and headed to the living room, listening to the silence of the house. Devon quit school a month ago, but he got a job straight away, so Dana didn’t say much. He wasn’t sitting on his ass doing nothing. Hayley had been furious with her for allowing it. He was almost eighteen. What the hell was she going to do? A man didn’t need his mother looking after him.

  And Jacob had matured so much in the past year; he didn’t need his mother anymore either. He still tagged along with Hayley a lot, but more and more he went out with his friends. At least she’d done something right. The clingy, scared little boy he’d been was long gone. He was popular and funny, though still not fond of school.

  She was unneeded, unwanted, and useless. Even Ronny barely had two words to share. What would she do when they were all gone? How would she tolerate the silence every hour of the day? Her life revolved around her kids and she received nothing but attitude for her efforts.

  Dana turned on the television and then lied on the couch.

  Imagine Hayley thinking she didn’t eat because she wanted to disappear. She wanted someone to see her.

  The phone rang. Probably Jacob wanting to spend the night at Cory’s house. She’d have to say no and he’d be pissed at her too, but it was a school night. “Hello.”

  “Mom?” Amy’s voice. “I have huge news.”

  Any news from Amy was bad news. “What?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Two words, two horrible, terrifying, soul-shattering words—the only two words Dana had feared since the day she found Amy with Jacob. “This isn’t funny.”

  “It’s not a joke. I’m five months pregnant.”

  “How do you get to be five months pregnant without knowing? Have you been using the whole time?”

  “Fuck.” Amy covered the phone and said something to whoever was with her. “It won’t hurt the baby; I’ve only been smoking pot.”

  “You have to stop now or your baby could be really sick.” Dana rubbed her temple, wanting this to be a nightmare.

  “Aren’t you happy for us?”

  “Who is us?”

  The last time she called, Amy had been living with a guy but she changed boyfriends more frequently than underwear. She probably didn’t even know who the father was.

  “Shit, you guys met him how many times? Jordan. You know, the guy I’m engaged to.”

  “Great, now you’re engaged. Has he got a job?” She couldn’t help herself. Amy with a baby and a loser husband—who couldn’t haul his ass out of bed before noon—terrified her. The poor child wouldn’t have a chance.

  “I knew you’d ruin this for me.” Amy’s voice hardened.

  Dana heard the accusation and waited for her to express it.

  “Maybe if it was Princess Hayley you might be happy. But then, our little Miss Priss would never soil her body with a boy, would she?”

  “Amy, I want to be happy for you, but you’re still a kid. You don’t know what a baby needs.”

  “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

  Dana shook her head and stared at the television, watching without seeing it. “No, you seem to have everything under control. Good luck.”

  “Well, actually, I do need a favor.”

  Here it comes. Amy always needed something. That’s the only time they heard from her.

  “Social Services told me I have to get everything ready before the baby comes, you know, to prove I can be a mother. If I can’t, they’ll take it.”

  “What have you done?”

  “Nothing,” Amy sounded properly offended.

  Dana knew better. Social Services did not threaten to take your child before it was born unless you’d done something to warrant concern.

  “Just something that happened a while back, with my friend’s kid,” Amy mumbled. “But that was bullshit. She told the kid to make it up, because she was pissed Jordan wouldn’t sell her any dope. They never charged me, so obviously it was a lie. And they said that my drug history put me at risk. They don’t want me spending money on dope instead of the baby and need proof that I can provide for it or something.”

  “Or something. So, why is it still on your record if you weren’t charged?”

  “I don’t know. I went to see my worker about getting more money when the baby comes and the bitch probably went around asking questions. They keep everything on your file. I bet they know the last time I took a shit.”

  “I’ll talk to your dad.”

  “Okay, and can you see if he has like fifty bucks I can borrow? Just until the end of the month.”

  “Sure. Bye.”

  She hung up the phone before Amy could ruin her day any further. One of her worst nightmares had come true. She was going to be a grandmother: Amy’s child’s grandmother.

  CHAPTER 40

  July 1993

  The phone rang as Hayley closed the door. She ran to get it. Her parents must’ve gone to pick up Isabelle. They kept Amy’s baby at least two weeks out of a month, but despite their efforts to take permanent custody of Isabelle, or to have her placed in foster care, she remained with Amy the rest of the time.

  It drove Hayley crazy that Social Services didn’t do anything to help her. At six months old, Isabelle could barely hold her head up; she was underweight and often stared into space, not even flinching when you waved your hand in front of her.

  “Hello?”

  The dial tone answered back. Hayley sat on the couch to catch her breath.

  The phone rang again.

  “Hello?”

  “Hayley?” Amy sounded strange. Her voice was too high.

  “Yeah. Mom and Dad are on their way to your place so I can’t give them a message.”

 
; “Oh fuck,” Amy said. “Jordan, get out of the hallway… I don’t fucking care. Jordan!”

  Hayley sighed, wishing she’d get to the point or hang up.

  “Um, I have some bad news,” Amy said.

  Hayley’s stomach clenched. Tempted to hang up, to avoid what bad news Amy could possibly have, she waited.

  “Isabelle’s dead.”

  The phone slipped from her hand as a moan echoed in Hayley’s head. Isabelle couldn’t be dead. She’s just a baby.

  Someone called her name. Hayley looked around. The phone. Amy was still on the phone. She picked it up. “What the hell happened? If this is a joke, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  “We woke up and I went to get her and she was blue. Her eyes were open and—”

  “Stop it. Just stop it!” Hayley screamed. She glanced at the clock. “You were just getting up at one o’clock? Are you fucking kidding me? You have a baby, Amy. How the hell are you sleeping in until one o’clock?”

  “What should I do?”

  “Have you called an ambulance?”

  “She’s dead.”

  “Fuck, you are so dumb. Call an ambulance and pray they get there before Dad does.”

  After slamming the phone down, Hayley ran to the kitchen and collided with her dad. He grabbed her arms to steady her.

  “I thought you guys were going to Amy’s,” she said.

  “I forgot my wallet.” Dad squeezed her arms. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Isabelle. She’s—”

  Her mom reached out, staggering against the table. “No. She’s not. Don’t say it.”

  “She is, Mom.”

  Jacob stood at the door. Hayley wanted to spare him, he didn’t need to go through this, but she had no choice. “Amy just called,” she continued. “She found her dead in her crib.”

  Her dad’s hands dug into her arms. “Jesus.”

  She flinched. “Ow, Dad—”

  He let go. “Sorry. Did she say what happened?”

  “She didn’t even call an ambulance. I told you this would happen. I fucking told you.”

  He picked his coat up off the chair and pushed past them. “Come on, Dana. We have to go. I’ll wring her skinny little neck.”

  “Ronny, we don’t know what happened. This might not be Amy’s fault.”

  Hayley looked at her mother. “If she did this, I’ll kill her.”

  Her mom hustled Jacob out the open door. “That’s not going to change anything. Stop talking like that.”

  “It won’t bring Isabelle back,” Hayley said, “but it’s the least that little bitch deserves.”

  After all the grief and pain she’d experienced, Hayley thought she knew what heartbreak meant, but nothing could have prepared her for this. A piece of her broke away, just vanished, leaving darkness so vast she could barely breathe.

  Someone had to do something about Amy.

  —

  They arrived at Amy’s just after the paramedics, only to watch in horror as they carried Isabelle’s tiny body out, wrapped in a white sheet. The young man who carried her met Hayley’s stare. Tears soaked his cheeks.

  Fury replaced sadness when she opened the door. Clothes spilled out of the closet next to the kitchen. The stench of cat urine stung her nostrils. Ignoring Amy’s outstretched arms, Hayley walked around her to Isabelle’s room, threw the door open and leaned against the frame. Isabelle’s tiny clothes covered the floor. The dresser sat empty, drawers hanging open, covered in cat hair and a yellow substance. The crib was still next to the window, but the bedding was gone. Only a small white blanket lay bunched at the end. In the middle of the mattress—a new mattress six months earlier—was Isabelle’s outline. How much time did she spend in there? Bottles, some empty, some half-full of curdled milk, covered in cat hair and a greenish stuff lay along the crib and scattered on the floor. Soiled diapers littered the room. The stench was overwhelming; like a garbage dump on a hot day.

  “What the hell were they thinking?” she murmured and backed out of the room.

  Jacob still stood at the front door. “Hay? Can we go?”

  She walked across the living room. A cigarette still smoldered in an overflowing ashtray on the coffee table. Hayley shuddered. “Yeah. I can’t stay here either.”

  “Wait. I want to go with you,” Amy called. “I just can’t stay in here anymore.”

  Hayley raised her hand to stop Amy as she approached, arms open once more. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

  “Jesus, what’s your problem?”

  “This is your fault. You killed her. You and your fuck up boyfriend should hang for this.”

  Amy could work up tears on demand and made some. “How can you say that? My baby just died.”

  “I hope you die next. Don’t ever speak to me again.” Hayley turned to push Jacob into the hallway.

  —

  One week later, at the funeral home, Hayley watched Amy play the crowd. She wailed and moaned and carried on as though she truly mourned Isabelle—but would smile, make fun of the other mourners or rub her boyfriend’s crotch when she thought no one was looking.

  Their parents asked Amy to close the casket; Isabelle’s lifeless body would be more than most people could bear. She’d agreed. When they walked into the room though, the casket was open, and Isabelle’s grey, bloated body was on display.

  Hayley ran back to intercept Jacob and then asked the funeral director to close the casket. He composed an understanding face, before voicing that’s what he already advised Amy to do. Hayley promised to deal with Amy if she insisted on leaving it open. He closed it.

  When they moved to the gravesite, Hayley stood back, unable to look away from the small white casket set over the hole in the ground. Before arriving, Amy had laughed and joked in the car. She and Jordan got high at some point. On what, she wasn’t sure.

  Her mother had patted her knee. “Hayley, please, leave it alone. People grieve in different ways.”

  Hayley didn’t think Amy grieved at all; she was incapable of feeling anything real. Amy was evil and cared only about what she wanted and what she needed. Isabelle had been an amusing little plaything, nothing more.

  When they lowered the casket, Amy gave her best performance ever by throwing her body over it and nearly falling in the hole beneath.

  “Just let her fall in the fucking hole,” Hayley muttered.

  Dana glared.

  “Give me a break.” She left, Jacob trailing behind her.

  She walked home, just wanting to be alone. Jacob needed her, though. Hayley sat with him while he cried and tried to answer his questions the best she could.

  Amy and Jordan stayed with them for three days. The night after the funeral, while Hayley cleaned up their mess in the living room, Amy mentioned having another baby.

  “Jordan and I think the best way to move on is to have another kid. Maybe this time we’ll have a boy.”

  “Because you prefer boys?” Hayley snapped.

  “No, a boy or a girl is fine. I just want another baby. They’re fun, as long as they don’t die.”

  “How could you think of having another one? Isabelle’s barely cold in her grave and you act like she never existed. You should be regretting what you’ve done, not trying to bring another child into your fucked-up life.”

  Amy sighed. “I didn’t kill her. God, they told you it was Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. A person can’t give a kid that.”

  “They had no other choice but to chalk it down to SIDS. But we know better, don’t we? She died from neglect, Amy. From your neglect.”

  Hayley had walked away, not interested in hearing a reply. She folded a blanket and laid it over the rocking chair she’d used to put Isabelle to sleep so many times. Amy walked into the living room and then flopped onto the couch and knocked down the pile of clothes that Hayley had just folded.

  “You’re such an asshole,” Hayley said.

  “What should we name him? The new baby I mean. I could be pregnant right now, you k
now.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Hayley ran upstairs, Amy’s laughter in her wake. To know Amy had no remorse, no sense of loss, angered her beyond words. She couldn’t understand how all those cops, the social workers, and the paramedics, could go through that apartment and see what Hayley saw and not arrest Amy and her loser boyfriend.

  Even her dad asked them why they did nothing. The social worker reasoned out all sorts of things which boiled down to: a baby doesn’t die because she lies in a crib a little too long, and dirt won’t kill her either. The police officer her dad had cornered at the hospital said that although he understood their anger, Amy and Jordan weren’t criminals just because they were stupid.

  Maybe they should listen to them plotting their next murder. How could you go on after losing your child? Hayley wanted to die and Isabelle wasn’t even hers.

  In her room, she lied on the bed and pulled a blanket over her head. She heard the bathroom door close and then the sound of the tub faucet.

  “Hay!” Amy called a few minutes later. “Can you grab me a towel?”

  Fury burned inside Hayley’s chest, but she stood anyway, and walked to the closet at the end of the hall. Red smoke rimmed the edges of her vision as she opened the door, removed a towel from the top shelf, and then closed it again. She walked the few feet to the bathroom and opened the door. Amy lay in the tub, head resting on the back.

  “Get a good look?” she asked.

  Hayley walked toward her. She set the towel on the floor next to the tub. As she turned, Amy chuckled.

  “Fuck, you’d think it was your kid that died. Get over yourself, princess.”

  A piece deep inside Hayley drifted downward. Her mind was suddenly clear. She walked around the tub and leaned over. Before she could reconsider the thought, she pushed Amy’s head down. Amy thrashed, scratched and kicked, but Hayley put all of her weight into the effort of holding her head beneath the water.

  Eventually, Amy stopped fighting. Hayley held her down for a full minute longer and then straightened. She stripped off her clothes, used them to mop up the water on the floor, tossed them into the back of her closet, and then put her pajamas on, wrote a note from Amy, careful to make it sloppy and full of spelling errors as Amy would’ve done, and placed it on the bathroom sink. After checking the hallway, she closed the bathroom door softly and then returned to her room and climbed into bed. When she heard her mom scream for her dad, she was almost asleep, a sense of calm she hadn’t known since the night in the woods with Kyle enveloping her mind.