Our Fragile Hearts. Buffy Andrews
what you’re saying. Stop. It’s not true.”
“It is, too. I’ve heard you crying at night when you think I’m asleep. I’ve seen the bruises on your arms and legs. He’s a tyrant and I hate him more than I’ve ever hated anyone.”
“He let me have you,” Mother said. “And a good family will get your baby and provide a wonderful life for her, just like I provided for you.”
“Yes, and just like me my baby will wonder why her birth mother didn’t want her. What kind of person gives their baby away to a total stranger?”
“A young girl who has her whole life ahead of her,” Mother said. “You know, it takes a lot of courage to give up your child.”
“Wrong, Mother. It takes a lot of courage to keep it and to ignore what others say behind your back.”
“But you’ve given your baby a chance to have a loving home.”
“Dear God, Mother. Father has brainwashed you.”
Mother sat on the chair next to my bed. “I’ve never met the woman who gave birth to you, Mary Katherine. I never wanted to. But if it hadn’t have been for her I’d never have become a mother. So, if your father gets a little angry sometimes, it doesn’t matter. I can deal with his anger, but I can’t deal with yours. So, please, stop. I don’t want to spend the entire trip home arguing.”
I didn’t want to spend it arguing either. I was too tired and all I wanted was to get as far away as possible from this hospital and the maternity house where I’d spent the last seven months. I wanted to sleep in my own bed in my own room.
Mother handed me a bag containing the clothes she’d brought me. “Would you like me to help you dress?”
I took the bag. “No. I’d like for you to leave while I get dressed.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I pulled out a black poodle skirt and white blouse. I undressed, rubbing my hand over my abdomen, which had been as big as a beach ball only days before. I wondered if I’d ever feel the tickle of a baby growing inside of me again. If I’d ever feel the tiny fist poking at me from the inside out. I pulled on the poodle skirt that thankfully Mother had bought in a larger size. I buttoned the blouse and tied a black scarf around my neck. I brushed my hair back and put it into a ponytail. I looked into the mirror. The girl staring back at me looked like the one who’d snuck out of the house more than a year ago to meet Teddy. But it wasn’t the same girl. That girl was gone and I knew she would never come back.
Rachel
“Come on, Piper. Hurry up and finish your cereal. You don’t want to be late for your first day of kindergarten.”
Piper shrugged her boney shoulders. “Why can’t I stay home with you, Rachel?”
“Because you have to go to school. It’ll be fun, you’ll see. Besides, you’re always playing school with your dolls; now you get to go to school for real.”
“But what if I don’t like it?” Piper shoveled a spoonful of cereal into her tiny mouth.
“You will. You’ll make new friends.” I filled my coffee mug.
“But what if they don’t like me?”
I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “They will. What’s there not to like about you?”
“Daniel said I look funny.”
“Well, you tell Daniel he looks funnier. Besides, what does he know?”
Piper’s blue eyes widened. “Daniel’s the smartest kid in daycare. He reads books and he knows every single dinosaur.”
I brushed back Piper’s blonde hair. “You’re smart, too. You know way more than I did when I was your age.”
“How old are you?
“How old do you think I am?”
Piper chewed her lip and squinted. “Fifty!”
I spit out the coffee I’d just sipped. “Fifty! No! Twenty-two. I was eighteen when you were born.”
“That’s old.”
“Thanks.”
“But not as old as mommy, right?”
“Right.”
Piper scrunched her freckled nose. “Are you going to be there when the bus brings me home?”
I sat down across from Piper and looked into her eyes. “Yes, I told you I will meet you at the bus stop this afternoon.”
“Mommy said she’d pick me up at daycare but she never did.”
“That’s because she was dead.” As soon as the words tumbled out of my mouth I wanted to stuff them back inside. But it was too late. I have this habit of saying what I’m thinking out loud. It was never a problem before Piper came into my life. I didn’t even know I had a sister until Linda… er, my mom from whom I’d been estranged… died. And now that I’m trying to raise Piper on my own, something I’ve only been doing for a few months, I’m drowning in this new territory, saying things out loud that I shouldn’t and making Piper sad.
Believe me, being a parent is the last thing I wanted, but I hated the alternative even more – putting Piper in foster care. I knew what that was like. I’d spent my childhood in and out of foster homes. I’ll never forget the day I was taken from my home for the first time. I was about Piper’s age and I came home from school to find a strange lady and two policemen at the apartment. Mom was sitting on the couch surrounded by empty bottles of vodka. Her hair was messy and she smelled like she’d been rooting around in the dumpster outside.
“Hi, Rachel,” the tall lady in the black pants and jacket had said. “My name is Miss Helen and I’m going to take you to another place to live for a while.”
“But what about Mommy?”
“We are going to get your mommy some help. And while she’s getting help, you’ll live with a wonderful woman. Her name is Miss Evelyn and she lives in a big house on the other side of town. Is that all right with you?”
I’d bitten my lower lip. “Will she feed me?”
“Yes, of course she’ll feed you. And she’ll make sure you get a bath and brush your hair and help you with your schoolwork. And when your mommy is better, you can come back here to live.”
I loved Miss Evelyn. Her home was the only home I ever felt safe in. It’s also where I met my best friend, Claire. She came to live with Miss Evelyn about a month after I did. We both wished we could live with her forever.
I looked at Piper. Her blue eyes turned glassy and her heart-shaped chin wobbled.
“Sorry, Piper. That came out wrong. I’ll be at the bus stop when you come home. Promise.”
Piper didn’t ask any more questions and managed to finish most of her cereal before we headed for the bus stop in front of the entrance to our apartment complex. I definitely felt out of place standing beside all of the moms and dads. I kept hearing in my head, “One of these things is not like the others. One of these things just doesn’t belong.”
Me, that’s who. I didn’t belong. I had a life. A decent life before I got the phone call that changed it forever.
I watched as parents pulled out their cellphones to take first-day-of-school photos. I imagined Facebook feeds inundated with photos marking the special event. I didn’t want Piper to feel different or any less special, so I pulled out my phone and took a picture of her. I remembered my first day of school. Mom sent me to the bus stop – alone. She was