Reclaiming the Sand(98)

“You did?” I asked, shocked. I had been at school and then worked most of the evening. When I had finally gotten home, Dania had already been in bed. But she hadn’t mentioned a thing all week about going to see him. I had long since grown convinced that she had no plans to ever see her son. The service plan paperwork still sat in its envelope on the counter, unopened.

Dania nodded. “He’s going to be released from the NICU tomorrow. I’ve been talking to Randa, his foster care worker, and she had suggested I go to see him. I didn’t want to at first. But she convinced me it would be good for me. She picked me up yesterday morning and took me to Barkley.”

“How was he?” I asked, hardly able to believe what I was hearing.

“He was tiny and perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she said softly.

“Does this mean you’ll do the stuff in your service plan? That you’re going to work to get him back?” I asked.

Dania put her bowl down on the coffee table and brought her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

“No, I’m not,” she said.

I put my bowl down beside hers and stared at her blankly, not understanding.

“What are you saying?” I asked her.

Dania’s silent tears began to fall, soaking into the knees of her jeans. Her face was scrubbed clean and I realized it had been a long time since I had seen her with make up. She no longer dressed like she was headed to work on a street corner. She had gotten rid of her short skirts and slutty halter-tops in exchange for sweat pants and T-shirts. She looked a lot younger, but her eyes gave her away. They held a pain and awareness that looked a lot like what I saw when I looked in the mirror.

“I’m not cut out to be a mother. Look what I’ve already done to him,” she said sadly.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t learn, Dania. That’s what the service plan is for. To help you become the mother he needs you to be,” I argued.

Dania shook her head, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “It’s not fair to Brandon, Ells. I don’t know that I’ll ever be the sort of mother that he deserves. He needs someone who will put him first, always. I can’t do that. You know I’m not capable of being someone’s mother. Fuck, I can barely take care of myself,” she snapped.

“But you could…” I started but she lifted her hand, silencing me.

“I know what you’re doing, Ellie, and while I appreciate it, it’s unnecessary. You’re a good friend. A better friend than I’ve ever been to you. After everything I’ve done, here you are, letting me invade your life and your space after I said all of that horrible stuff to you. Stuff that I didn’t really mean. It was mostly my own insecure bull crap. I’ve always been jealous of you, Ells. I always knew you were better than this. But I was too scared to lose you. I wanted you to be just as stuck and miserable as I was. Like I said, I’m a shitty friend. Always have been.”

Well, I wasn’t going to argue with her. She had been a shitty friend. Her confession didn’t surprise me, but the fact that she had given it did. And I couldn’t forget about the things she had done for me.

“Yeah, you’ve been pretty bitchy, but you were also the only person to see me in juvie. You helped me get on my feet when I got out. You were there, Dania. Don’t forget about that,” I told her.

Dania sighed and unfolded her legs. “The point is I’m incapable of really loving anyone. Hell, I don’t even love myself. So what chance does that baby have with a mother like me?”

“So what are you going to do?” I asked her.

“I’m signing over my parental rights. Since I don’t know who his father is, it’s only me that stands in the way of Brandon having a really good home. A better one than you or I ever had. After seeing him, it became real. I couldn’t shove my head in the sand anymore and hope it would all go away. And I couldn’t stomach the thought of him going into the system and ending like me. Or worse, eventually coming to live with me and I wouldn’t be able to handle it. What if I left him the way my mom left me? I can’t do that to him! Randa says they will be able to find him a good home. That he will be with parents who love him and want him.” Dania sniffled and wiped her nose.

My eyes were stinging with tears, hardly able to believe what I was hearing.

Dania was giving up her baby. And she was doing it for completely selfless reasons.

I reached out and took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know this hurts, Dania. And you still have time to change your mind, you know,” I said.

“No, this is the right thing to do for Brandon. I won’t change my mind,” she said emphatically. I held her hand for a while and then she gave me a watery smile.

“The next step is to get out of your hair. I know I have to be driving you nuts. I need to get my own place and figure out what I’m going to do. And then I’m going to burn all of my pajamas. I never want to see them again,” she said and I laughed.

“I’ll build the fire,” I teased.

Dania smoothed down her hair. It was a relief to see her finally snapping out of her funk. And to see her coming out of it better than I had ever seen her before. Seeing her son had done something to her. It had changed her.

She picked up the pile of mail and started going through it. “What’s this?” she asked, holding up my acceptance letter. I reached out and tried to take it from her.