The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry(44)
The babysitter makes a face. “Just put it in an envelope with my name on it and leave it at my dorm. I would really like the money before Christmas. I have presents to buy.”
Mary agrees.
“Bye, little baby,” the babysitter says. “Have a great Christmas.”
The baby coos.
“Do you two have anything special planned for the holidays?” the babysitter asks.
“I’ll probably take her to see my mom. She lives in Greenwich, Connecticut. She always has a big Christmas tree, and she makes a delicious dinner, and there will be tons of presents for me and for Myra.”
“That sounds really nice,” the babysitter says.
Mary puts the baby in the baby sling, and she walks to the bank. She checks the balance on her ATM card. She has $75.17 in her checking account. She takes out forty dollars and then she goes inside to get change.
She puts thirty dollars in an envelope with the babysitter’s name on it. She buys a token for the subway and rides to the last stop on the train. The neighborhood is not as nice as the neighborhood where Mary’s college is.
Mary walks down the street. She comes to a rundown house with a chain-link fence out front. There is a dog tied to a post in the yard. It barks at the baby, and the baby starts to cry.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Mary says. “The dog can’t get you.”
They go inside the house. The house is very dirty and there are kids everywhere. The kids are dirty, too. The kids are noisy and all different ages. Some of them are in wheelchairs or disabled.
“Hi, Mary,” a disabled girl says. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to see Mama,” Mary says.
“She is upstairs. She is not feeling well.”
“Thank you.”
“Mary, is that your baby?” the disabled girl asks.
“No,” Mary says. She bites her lip. “I’m just watching it for a friend.”
“How is Harvard?” the disabled girl asks.
“Great,” Mary says.
“Bet you got all A’s.”
Mary shrugs.
“You are so modest, Mary. Still swimming on the swim team?”
Mary shrugs again. She walks up the stairs to see Mama.
Mama is a morbidly obese white woman. Mary is a skinny black girl. Mama cannot be Mary’s biological mother.
“Hi, Mama,” Mary says. “Merry Christmas.” Mary kisses the fat woman on the cheek.
“Hi, Mary. Miss Ivy Leaguer. Didn’t expect to see you back here at your foster home.”
“No.”
“Is that your baby?” Mama asks.
Mary sighs. “Yes.”
“What a shame,” Mama says. “Smart girl like you, messing up her life. Didn’t I tell you to never have sex? Didn’t I tell you to always use protection?”
“Yes, Mama.” Mary bites her lip. “Mama, would it be okay if the baby and I stayed here a while? I’ve decided to take a leave from the school to get my life organized. It would be very helpful.”
“Oh, Mary. I wish I could help, but the house is filled up. I don’t have a room for you. You are too old for me to get a check from the state of Massachusetts.”
“Mama, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Mary, here is what I think you should do. I think you should contact the baby’s father.”
Mary shakes her head. “I didn’t really know him that well.”
“Then I think you should put the baby up for adoption.”
Mary shakes her head again. “I can’t do that either.”
Mary goes back to the dorm room. She packs up a bag for the baby. She puts a stuffed Elmo in the bag. A girl from down the hall comes into Mary’s room.
“Hey Mary, where are you going?”
Mary smiles brightly. “I thought I would take a trip to the beach,” she says. “The baby loves the beach.”
“Isn’t it a little cold for the beach?” the girl asks.
“Not really,” Mary says. “The baby and I will wear our warmest clothes. Plus the beach is really nice in the winter.”
The girl shrugs. “I guess.”
“When I was a little girl, my dad used to take me to the beach all the time.”
Mary drops off the envelope at the babysitter’s dorm. At the train station, she uses her credit card to buy tickets for the train and boat that go to Alice Island.
“You do not need a ticket for the baby,” the ticket taker tells Mary.
“Good,” Mary says.
When she gets to Alice Island, the first place Mary sees is a bookstore. She goes inside so that she and the baby can warm up. A man is at the counter. He has a grumpy demeanor and he wears Converse sneakers.
Christmas music is playing in the store. The song is “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”
“This song makes me so sad,” a customer says. “This is the saddest song I have ever heard. Why would anyone write such a sad Christmas song?”
“I’m looking for something to read,” Mary says.
The man gets slightly less grumpy. “What kind of books do you like?”
“Oh, all kinds, but my favorite kind of book is the kind where a character has hardships but overcomes them in the end. I know life isn’t like that. Maybe that is why it is my favorite thing.”