The School for Good Mothers(82)

“Susanna has made plenty of sacrifices,” the counselor says.

Frida should be mindful of Susanna’s stress level. And she shouldn’t make any assumptions about her case, not yet.

Before Frida leaves, they return to the subject of fraternizing. The instructors have noticed Tucker’s interest in her. Frida reminds the counselor that she hasn’t flirted, hasn’t been accused of suggestive body language.

“I’m not saying you have. But you’re all human. Feelings can develop. Remember, Frida, this is a man who let his child fall out of a tree. You left your baby girl home alone. Nothing good can come of this friendship.”



* * *



Roses are wilting on the vine. There’s a week of one-hundred-degree days. The cafeteria feels increasingly like a dungeon. Fans are brought into the fathers’ school to augment the air-conditioning. Parents take cold showers and suck on ice cubes. Heat and mingling and boredom are contributing to high-risk behavior. Voices rise above whispers. Eye contact is brazen. Some parents refer to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. Talk circle remains crowded. A father is abruptly expelled for allegedly leering at Charisse’s teenage girl doll. Most parents think he’s innocent.

“Her word against mine,” he said. The doll was the one who complained to the instructors. She felt he was undressing her with his eyes, said he looked at her like she was a snack.

Charisse said, “Believe women.”

Tucker has sent Frida messages via his doll Jeremy. He’s asked Meryl to ask Frida to sit with him at lunch. She almost said yes. She almost told him about Susanna’s pregnancy, Harriet’s short hair, the counselor’s latest warnings. She wants to thank him for treating her like she’s worthy of love. If she’d known such kindness was possible, that she’d ever feel deserving of it, she might have been more careful when she was younger. She’s imagined introducing him to Gust, has pictured them attending Gust and Susanna’s wedding. She too has been thinking past November, wondering if she’ll be able to get pregnant at forty or forty-one.

She knows she’s getting away with more because she’s yellow. Roxanne says they’re coming down harder on the brown girls. It doesn’t matter whether they’re flirting back. Roxanne has no patience for Frida’s problems with Beanstalk or Susanna. She tells Frida to get over her beef with Gust’s girl.

“Do not talk to me about diamond rings,” she says.

Roxanne’s mom hasn’t been staying hydrated, has developed another UTI. “I just want to wrap her in Bubble Wrap,” Roxanne says. Neighbors and friends are helping, but it’s not the same. Her mom is immunocompromised. Just an hour in a doctor’s waiting room or a trip to the pharmacy could get her sick. What if her mom gets sicker and no one tells her? What if she has to go to the hospital?

Every day, Roxanne has been sitting with Meryl and Colin at lunch. Her crush on Meryl has grown more intense and irrational. Every night, she’s been stubbornly asking if Frida thinks she still has a chance. Roxanne says Meryl has broken up with the green-eyed guard, will break up with Ocean’s father once she can tell him in person.

“Meryl is not the right pizza for you,” Frida says. “We only have three more months. You know this.”

Frida has tried to warn Meryl about Colin, but the girl won’t listen. Colin doesn’t want Meryl to stay friends with Frida. He’s still mad about evaluation day. He said that if Frida really cared about the fate of Black people in America, she would’ve let him win. Meryl said that she’s truly happy for the first time in her life. She’s happier than when Ocean was born. She’s happier than when she met Ocean’s father. This will be the story she and Colin tell their future children. Love in a hopeless place.

“Like that song,” Meryl said.

Roxanne has stopped giggling and talking in her sleep.

“Are you there?” she asks, waking Frida throughout the night. Sometimes she sneaks out of bed and sits beside Frida.

They take turns scratching each other’s backs. They talk about her mother, about Isaac, who’s started walking. His foster mom has bought him his first pair of hard-soled shoes. When she tried to have him walk for Roxanne during the last Sunday call, he wouldn’t do it.

“What cool shit is he going to do next?” Roxanne asks.

Frida tells her about Harriet’s first steps and first words, the point at which Harriet could walk without falling. She’s no longer sure what happened in which month.



* * *



The parents practice calm and friendly communication during disputes with teachers, pediatricians, coaches, and authority figures. Frida feels Tucker’s eyes on her all day. Whenever he looks at her, she feels herself becoming more beautiful. She’s sure the cameras can distinguish between this heat and the blush of mother love.

But she thrives on it. Wants more of it. She can’t allow him to make her weak, but it happens despite her best intentions. At night, she imagines giving the house of her mind and the house of her body to the man who let his son fall out of a tree. She pictures their bodies together in a room with no cameras.

She hasn’t asked if he wants more children, can’t ask him here. But her parents deserve another grandchild. Harriet’s two families should be evenly matched. She’d love to feel the kicking again, should have appreciated those months when she and Harriet were always together, when she counted kicks twice a day, felt the drumming fists at bedtime, Harriet responding to her warm hands, their first secret codes.