Half A Heart

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Half A Heart Page 13

by Kim Hartfield


  “Of course!” She said it a little too brightly.

  “I miss you a lot, baby. I can’t wait for you to come home.”

  I pulled her chair toward me so I could tug her into my arms. I was conscious of Sylvia’s ever-present eyes on me. In an odd way, it was comforting to have someone I knew watching my interactions with my daughter. It’d feel even more violating if she were a stranger.

  Although Mercy allowed me to squeeze her tightly, she didn’t say anything more.

  “Are you going to miss anything about your foster home?” I asked, my throat tightening. “Your school? Your new friends?” Her foster parents?

  “Not really,” she said. “I’ll miss Janet, though.”

  “Who the hell is that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “The puppy, Mommy.”

  “Right. Well… maybe we’ll…” I couldn’t offer to get her a new puppy. I wasn’t going to make promises I couldn’t keep – like the way my own parents had once promised to love me no matter what. “Maybe we can visit some puppies at the pet store now and then, once you’re back.”

  Mercy nodded seriously. “Okay, Mommy.”

  I did my best to get through the rest of the visit without crying. I could read her like a book, even now that she’d been away from me for months, and she was less and less enthusiastic about leaving her foster family. She seemed so disappointed at the prospect of visiting puppies rather than having her own.

  When I said goodbye, I hugged her tight and whispered in her ear. “We’ll get a puppy one day, baby. You and me.”

  She looked up at me in surprised delight, and I nodded at her to show I was serious. I’d make it a goal to get one for my little girl, if that was what she wanted. She was my princess, and she needed to know it. The fierce love I felt for her would make anything possible. Besides, a lot of things I’d always thought were impossible had been happening lately.

  When she was gone, I went into the bathroom. My chest was still tight, and the turbulent emotions inside me needed to be released. Leaning against the stall wall, I dropped my face into my hands. A single tear leaked from my eye. I’d thought things were finally coming together, but what if they weren’t? What if, after all of this, Mercy didn’t love me anymore?

  Images flew through my mind. Her telling me she wanted to stay with her foster family. The judge banging a gavel and saying that she could. Me, alone in my apartment, crying myself to sleep every night because I had nothing left to live for. An occasional postcard from Mercy after she turned eighteen, a few brief lines about what she was up to this year…

  The outside door opened and I stiffened up, forcing myself to quiet down.

  “Jenelle?” Oh fuck, it was Sylvia.

  “Hey.” My thick, choked-up voice made my emotional state obvious. Hopefully she wouldn’t catch on since I’d only said one word.

  “Are you okay?”

  Great, she had caught on. “Yeah.”

  “Want to open the door?”

  “I’m on the toilet.”

  A second passed. “No, you’re not.”

  “I am. I’m peeing.”

  “Stop lying, Jenelle. I can see your feet.”

  Oh. Oops.

  I swung the door open, hoping my eyes weren’t too red as I faced her. “I’m okay. I just needed a minute alone.”

  “If you want to be alone, that’s fine.” She looked at me with intense concern. “But if you want a hug…”

  My eyes watered again, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop the tears this time. Fuck, I hated letting other people see me cry. I was supposed to be strong. Independent. I didn’t need anyone. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to feel sorry for me.

  And yet, somehow, I found myself nodding.

  As Sylvia enveloped me in her arms, I stiffened. This felt wrong. I wasn’t supposed to lean on anybody else – I was supposed to be the one they could lean on. But after a moment, my body relaxed. I rested my head on her shoulder, my arms limp by my sides. My tears flowed, getting her clean shirt wet.

  Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe once in a while – once in a long, long while – I could let someone else support me. I didn’t have to be the strong one all the time.

  After a long minute, I stepped away, wiping my eyes. “How did you know I needed this?”

  “I saw you,” she said softly. “And I know you.”

  “What gave me away?”

  “The way you raced in here with a tight little smile on your face. Either you were upset, or you were having indigestion.” She shrugged. “I took my chances.”

  “Well… thank you.” It felt so strange to thank her – but even stranger to be genuinely grateful for what she’d done.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “No, not really.”

  If she was my girlfriend, maybe I’d open up like that. But she wasn’t, and as I remembered that, I took another step back. Out of all the people in the world to emotionally lean on, my friend with benefits was the last one I should choose.

  I cleared my throat. “I have to get going.”

  “All right. Talk to you soon?”

  “Of course.” I glanced at the door. “Do you think it’s okay to leave? What if someone saw you come in here?”

  “That’s fine.” Her lips quirked upward. “We were just peeing.”

  I headed to work, still struggling to process everything that’d happened. Mercy’s attitude… and Sylvia’s.

  I did need someone to talk to – someone who wasn’t her. It was a shame I’d lost touch with my high school friends. And Ginger. And my sister.

  As I parked, I heaved a sigh. The relationships in my life were failing, one after another. Some of them were definitely the other person’s fault, like Ginger. And high school friendships didn’t tend to last. I couldn’t be too bitter about not being in touch with those girls, especially seeing as I had a kid.

  My sister, though? I wondered again if I’d been too harsh on her. Chandra had tried to reach out, and I’d shut her down. Maybe it was my turn to offer the olive branch. I just didn’t know when or how.

  Teva dropped by the bar during my shift, like she often did. Maybe she was the best person to confide in. Whatever I told her might be passed around to every employee at the place, including Ginger… but I didn’t have many other options.

  “Sylvia was so sweet to me today,” I told her as I dried glasses with a dishcloth. “It really blew my mind.”

  “Are you dating now?”

  “No. I can’t really see us together.”

  “Why’s that?” she asked, leaning back on the counter and giving a flirtatious wave to a passing customer. “Didn’t you say you get along great?”

  “Yeah, but things are weird. She comes from a whole different world, you know? She’d never work at a place like this. Plus, there’s the whole kid thing. She’s a single girl, she won’t want to be tied down to someone with a child.” From what she’d said, she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone at all. I assumed having Mercy in the picture only made things worse.

  “I thought she got along great with Mercy.”

  “She does. That doesn’t mean she wants to be a second mom to her.”

  Teva gave me a slow shrug. “Still, it sounds like her attitude is better than Ginger’s.”

  “I was never going to date Ginger.” I paused, my hands stopping mid-motion. “What do you mean about Ginger’s attitude?”

  “Oh.” She looked guilty – really guilty, or was she faking it because she’d secretly wanted to share some gossip? “I didn’t tell you?”

  “No,” I said, frowning.

  “I just mean Ginger liked you. You know that already.”

  With the way she was evading my question, maybe she was feeling real guilt. “You said something about her attitude toward Mercy.”

  “It’s nothing.” She swallowed. “I better go.”

  “No!” My voice rose louder than I’d meant it to. I dropped it low again, leaning over the b
ar rail toward her. “Tell me what you meant.”

  “The thing is…” Cringing, she glanced around as if making sure no one else was in earshot. A few customers were at the nearby tables – they wouldn’t care about our conversation. “Ginger used to talk about you all the time. She had a real thing about you, but she refused to make a move… because of Mercy.”

  My stomach dropped. “What?”

  She nodded. “When Mercy got taken, she said she could finally make her move now that the kid was out of the way.”

  I sucked in a breath. Ginger had seen the worst thing that had ever happened to me as a positive event? She viewed my child, the one I’d carried for nine months and given birth to, the light of my life, as an inconvenience?

  To think I’d almost slept with her anyway! I couldn’t put into words how glad I was that I hadn’t gone for her. Maybe I wasn’t attracted to her because some part of me knew how awful she was inside.

  “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this.” Teva’s face was sick. “It was messed up, and I told her so.”

  “It’s fine. I’m not going to shoot the messenger… but…” Bile rose in my throat. “I’d rather be alone right now. Sorry.”

  She took off with evident relief, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And I needed the space, because my mind was whirling. I’d known Ginger was far from a true friend, considering how she’d stopped talking to me as soon as I rejected her. But I’d thought she used to be.

  Now I had to re-examine every part of our “friendship” I thought was real. She’d stood here with me and listened to me talk about how broken I was about Mercy’s absence. She’d sympathized with me and encouraged me to go for child support. All that time, she’d been thinking Mercy was in the way of her getting to sleep with me? What kind of two-faced bitch was she?

  The glass in my hand fell to the counter, and I grabbed it before it toppled to the floor. My heart was racing, and not because of the near accident. I knew I couldn’t trust many people in this world, but damn, I’d misjudged Ginger so severely.

  Actions spoke louder than words, I supposed. And it was hard to keep my mind from wandering to the woman who was currently in my life, and her own actions.

  Sylvia cared about me – and about Mercy. She showed it all the time. Sure, her concern for us had started with less than noble intentions. But what had begun as a bet had quickly spiraled into something she couldn’t even control.

  I knew she cared because of how she acted toward me – the way she encouraged me to do everything I could do to be the best I could be. She had faith in me, even when I lacked it myself. She’d seen potential in me at a time when I only saw emptiness.

  And Mercy definitely wasn’t an inconvenience to her. She always had a smile and some kind words for my little girl, even back when Mercy was being shy with her. These days, she had endless patience for Mercy even at her most annoying. I was pretty sure she adored my daughter.

  I set my elbows on the bar rail and rested my face in my hands. If I were to have a girlfriend, I’d want her to be a whole lot like Sylvia.

  Twenty-One – Sylvia

  Jenelle’s first review hearing was coming up – the day in court when the judge would re-examine her case and decide whether Mercy could go back to her. If he decided against it, she’d have to wait another six months for her next chance.

  The upcoming decision was weighing on both of us. I could feel her stress every time I saw her. Even though she’d started her new job, and it seemed to be going well, she clearly wasn’t happy.

  I thought she had a decent chance of having Mercy returned to her, and I told her so. She’d been completely cooperative in the last few months, and she’d finished her ten parenting classes. She’d done everything the state had asked her to do. How could they turn around and ask for more?

  Even so, there was no way to know for sure. Most cases took a year or more to resolve, and she knew that. Her case wasn’t as severe as most, but that didn’t seem to reassure her.

  For my part, I’d give my strongest recommendation that Mercy be allowed to go home. In the end, though, it’d be up to the judge. I was just the social worker.

  The one small thing I could do for her was to ask if we could switch from visits at the agency to in-home. I thought having Mercy on familiar turf might be more comfortable for both of them, and we always tried to transition to home visits once all parties were ready. Jenelle liked the idea, so I went ahead with the paperwork. Today would be the first time Mercy had come home in over five months.

  I had picked Mercy up from her foster home, and now that we were outside Jenelle’s apartment, I tried to look slightly lost, as if I didn’t know my way around. Mercy was ahead of me, anyway, racing for the door.

  “Mommy!” she screamed, launching herself into Jenelle’s arms.

  “You’re home, baby. You’re home.” Jenelle glanced quickly at me. Her face twisted into a grimace, and then she returned her attention to Mercy.

  I knew this wasn’t how she’d imagined her little girl’s homecoming. I knew I was only a representative of the system that’d taken Mercy right now, and not Jenelle’s friend. Still, it hurt to see her look away from me like that – her eyes sweeping by me like I didn’t exist.

  “I made curly fries for you, honey.” Jenelle led the little girl into the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

  Mercy nodded, big-eyed. “Yes, please.”

  The fries were the kind you bought frozen in a bag. Nothing gourmet, but of course, Mercy’s tastes wouldn’t be gourmet quite yet. Jenelle had already heated them up and put them on a plate, and the little girl eagerly dived into them.

  I took a few notes as I observed. At this point, I had nothing new to say, so I spent more time simply watching. Mercy was livelier than usual, and I laughed quietly as she ran in circles around the living room couch.

  “Let’s sit down and watch your show, honey.” Jenelle seemed slightly exhausted by Mercy’s enthusiasm. “You still like Dora and Diego, don’t you?”

  Mercy shook her head firmly. “I like Kim Possible now.”

  “Okay, we’ll find that on Netflix.”

  She pulled Mercy onto her lap and stroked her hair, playing with the fluffy curls. Once they’d chosen an episode, they went quiet as Mercy got absorbed by the action and drama. Jenelle seemed more absorbed in her daughter.

  Not for the first time, I felt like I was witnessing something I shouldn’t witness. I was intruding in what should’ve been a peaceful moment between the two of them. As I turned slightly away, looking through the open door to the kitchen, my eyes lit on a folder on the counter. Was that the one she’d once told me to stay away from?

  It wasn’t my business. She didn’t have to tell me whatever she didn’t want to tell me. Then again, being nosy was part of my job. If there was any chance that folder could impact her ability to care for Mercy, I needed to know about it.

  I crept quietly into the other room, telling myself I was doing this for professional reasons and not personal ones. This was probably why it was such a huge ethical violation to get involved with a client. Hell, this itself was probably an ethical violation.

  But I was doing it anyway. My throat dry, I opened the folder.

  As I read the neatly handwritten words, I only became more confused. I skimmed through the pages, then read them more closely. Had Jenelle written this? And if so, why?

  The sound of the TV show ending snapped me back to reality. I shut the folder and tried to place it exactly where I’d found it. If Jenelle knew I’d looked at it, she might freak out.

  I sent Mercy to wait in the car so I could talk to Jenelle about “grown-up stuff.” I would’ve had follow-up questions for Jenelle anyway, so it wasn’t like I was being that deceptive to Mercy.

  “How’d that go?” I asked, trying to sound neutral. Was I asking for myself or for my job? I wasn’t quite sure.

  “Okay.” She sank back onto the couch, looking at me gratefully. “Thanks again for thinking o
f this. It meant so much to have her back here.”

  “No problem. We try to do that, once the child is close to going home.” I gave her a tight smile. She had no idea I’d just completely invaded her privacy.

  “Want to come back after you drop Mercy off? Relax with me?” The way Jenelle quickly licked her lips told me exactly what she had in mind.

  A twinge went through my core. I was tempted… but I couldn’t. “Too risky right now.” Plus I felt too guilty.

  “Okay. I’ll say goodbye, then.”

  She came with me to the door, and I started putting my shoes on. As I laced them, I stopped and stood up. Even knowing she’d be pissed off, I couldn’t stop myself from asking her. I needed to know. “Jenelle, don’t hate me… I looked at the folder in the kitchen.”

  She jerked back like she’d been punched. “My business plan?”

  “So that is what it is.” It’d certainly seemed like it, but it made no sense. “You came up with that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I have?” She threw her shoulders back, her nostrils flaring. “You think I’m too stupid to have a business idea? Too uneducated, maybe?”

  “No! I just – I was – ” I was trying to say she’d never expressed any interest in running a business, but when she got like this, anything I could say was only going to make her madder. “Take a breath, Jenelle. I’m not trying to insult you. I was just surprised.”

  Her eyes flashed at me. “I’m sure you were.”

  I swallowed. I hated to see her angry, especially when I was the cause. “How did you even come up with this?”

  “I went to school, you know. And there’s the Internet. I know how to read and write.”

  Fuck, she was only getting more heated. “I mean…”

  “My dad owned a business, okay? A mechanic shop. I guess he probably still does. How the hell do I know?”

  I blinked a few times. “I thought…”

  “That my family was broke? No. Not this kind of broke, anyway.” She laughed bitterly. “If I hadn’t been the black sheep, I’d be living doing all right for myself, too. All of this?” She waved a hand at our surroundings. “This wouldn’t be happening. Not that getting disowned was a choice, unless I was supposed to stay in the closet forever, and – ”

 

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