If I Tell (14 page)

I found the triage area in the maternity ward and spotted Grandma slouched over in an oversized chair in the waiting room. She looked older and more tired than usual.

“A boy,” she said instead of hello. “You’ve got a baby brother.”

A surge of happiness at the news took me by surprise. “Already?” I asked.

Grandma smiled a little sadly but nodded. “He’s tiny, and they’re in with him, but he’s a fighter.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. I think I loved him already. I hadn’t expected that. Grandma wrapped her arms around me. It had been a long time since she’d hugged me like that, but I hung on.

“Your mom’s doing pretty good too.” Grandma pushed me gently away and wiped underneath my eyes. “No tears. This is happy.”

Someone cleared their throat behind us, and I turned and saw that a nurse had approached us.

“You’re Jasmine?” she asked in a crisp voice. She didn’t sound particularly happy about my name. I bobbed my head in response.

“Your mom is asking for you. Come.” Without another word, she turned and started to walk the other way.

Grandma marched beside me. The nurse glanced over. “No. Just her. She wants to see her daughter. Alone.”

Grandma stopped. “Oh.” Her expression stayed neutral. “Oh. Well, maybe I’ll go to the gift store then. See if I can pick up something for the baby. You’ll stay with your mom until I get back, Jaz?”

I nodded, nervous. Why’d Mom want to talk to me all alone? The nurse tapped her toe up and down so I followed her white running shoes. From behind, I studied her dyed blond hairstyle, which was glued to her head with hair spray. Her body looked angry, bulging out of the burgundy nurse uniform. The corridor we went down smelled like a doctor’s office. Same muffled sounds and baby cries.

We passed the nurses’ station and then stepped into a hallway lined with numbered rooms. Women in blue hospital gowns lay in beds in the rooms or sat in rocking chairs beside the beds. Many held tiny babies in their arms. All of them looked tired.

The nurse stopped outside the room at the end of the hall. “She’s in there.” She gestured at the room with her thumb and scrutinized me. “Your dad is with the baby,” she said through pinched lips.

“He’s not my dad.”

I nervously peeked around the doorway, looking for my mom inside the room.

The nurse tsked and clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I guess that’s not a surprise.”

My insides reeled with unease. “What?”

She crossed her arms, and her lips disappeared into a thin line. “Nothing.”

She couldn’t be implying what I thought.

“Can you please explain what you mean?” She stepped back at the ferocity of my tone. It stunned both of us.

She glared at me. I glared back.

“You know, it’s not like I’ve never seen that look before. But a tiny little baby doesn’t deserve that from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“You think because he has a black father and a white mother, the baby is bad or evil or something?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The nurse turned up her nose, but her cheeks got splotchy.

“You know what? I think you do. But it’s your problem. Not his.” The tiny baby I hadn’t even met brought out a protective side of me I hadn’t even known existed. I wasn’t about to let a stupid nurse label my baby brother.

I stood taller. I decided right then that I’d have to teach him how to handle people like her. Meanwhile, until he was old enough, he’d need someone to stick up for him. I stepped up to the plate. I wouldn’t let him deal alone. He’d never be alone. I’d protect him.

Without acknowledging the nurse, I tiptoed inside my mom’s maternity room. A blue curtain separated two beds. One was empty, but the bed by the window looked lumpy. I crept toward it.

“Mom?” I whispered.

Her eyes opened, bloodshot and watery as if she’d been on a serious bender.

“Hey,” I said, overcome by strange almost motherly feelings for her. I saw the hospital bracelets on her wrist. Two of them. “So you had a baby.”

She laughed, but it sounded dry and humorless. “Either that or I got hit by a truck.” She sighed as deeply as one of Aretha Franklin’s soul-searching songs. “Don’t tell Grandma I said that,” she told me. “She’s probably mad I was only in labor for an hour.”

“I hardly think that’s what Grandma thinks.”

Mom closed her eyes. “Even though he was tiny, it hurt.” She paused for a minute. “I hope he’s going to be okay. He’s really small.”

I reached as if to pat her hand, but I pulled back before I touched her. “He’ll be okay.”

“Simon’s in there willing him to good health.” She opened her eyes. “He weighs over five pounds. He’ll be fine.”

Her robotic voice worried me a little. “What’s his name?” I asked softly.

She turned her head, looking out the window. “We don’t know yet. We haven’t agreed on a name. We’re talking about it.”

I waited, trying to think of something to say. It was like talking to a stranger.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

I held my breath, waiting to get shit for hitting Simon.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a better mom.” Her voice stayed flat, which kind of canceled my relief at not getting in trouble.

“Mom. Forget it. You were young when you had me, and things turned out okay. I mean, I knew you cared and stuff. It was just different.”

“I was like a sister. And not always a very good one.”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I knew who you were to me.”

Tears plopped from my mom’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “Of course it matters. I didn’t even raise you myself.” Her face scrunched up as if she was in pain. “You’re such a good kid. You don’t even yell at me or complain.”

I looked out the window, but the only view was the brick wall of the hospital. “You’re emotional from having the baby, that’s all. You should rest.”

She grabbed my hand, startling me. “If anything happens to me, make sure that Simon is the one to look after the baby.”

“Mom, nothing’s going to happen to you.” I tried to pry my hand away, but she held on.

“But if something does happen. Simon’s his dad. Promise. I don’t want Grandma raising him.”

“Okay, Mom. Okay.”

She dropped my hand and closed her eyes again. “Thanks. Thanks, Jaz. I knew I could rely on you.” She smiled weakly. “You should see him. He’s darker than you. Simon said he’s as black as his daddy’s behind.”

I giggled at the comment as the evil nurse walked into the room. She marched over to the bed without smiling. I wondered if she’d heard us. I moved aside for the nurse to take my mom’s pulse and blood pressure.

“Your husband is on his way from the Level Two nursery,” she said as she pulled apart the Velcro straps for the blood-pressure monitor.

“He’s not my husband.”

The nurse glared at her and then at me. “I heard.”

I raised my chin. “Well, glad we’ve got that little detail established. Anything else you want to know?”

The nurse glowered as she grabbed Mom’s wrist, placed two fingers on it, and lifted her other hand with the wristwatch on to take Mom’s pulse.

“I don’t think it’s the lack of marriage she disapproves of,” I said. “She doesn’t like white people who don’t stick to their own kind. Or the babies that result.”

Mom collapsed farther into her pillows. “Jaz. Don’t make trouble.”

The nurse’s bright red face reminded me of a circus clown. She dropped my mom’s hand and wrapped the blood-pressure kit around her arm.

“I’m not making trouble. She’s prejudiced.”

“I’m not.” She glared at me. “Excuse me. I have to take her blood pressure.”

I was glad my pressure wasn’t being checked. It would be off the charts.

“I’ll bring you a robe so you can get up to see the baby,” the nurse said to my mom.

She deflated farther into her pillows. “No. I can’t. Not yet.”

“You need to move around, and your baby needs you.” The nurse’s voice radiated disapproval. She tapped her nails on the blood-pressure pump.

“She said she can’t right now,” I interrupted, my voice overly high pitched. Playing grown-up was hard work.

The nurse made a noise in her throat as she made notes in Mom’s chart and then gathered her equipment and hurried out of the room.

My mom sat up, wiping under her eyes. “You’re doing my dirty work for me now. I’m a terrible mother.”

“No, you’re not. You need to rest. Don’t let that mean nurse bully you.”

She sniffled. “I can’t even bear to see the baby right now. I don’t deserve a baby. He’s better off without me in there. Simon can look after him better than I can.”

“You’re just tired, Mom.” I grabbed a Kleenex box from a small table at the end of her bed, and then Simon rushed into the room, sucking all the oxygen from it. My cheeks warmed, remembering the last time I’d seen him. I handed my mom tissues and moved away, leaning back against the windowsill.

“He’s doing great, Tara.” Simon bent down and kissed her cheek. “He’s going to be okay.”

“I know,” Mom answered, her eerie voice stripped of emotion.

“Hey, Slugger.” Simon winked. “So you’re a big sister.”

“Congratulations,” I said formally.

His grin was as wide as his face. “I’m a dad!” He rushed forward and grabbed me, lifting me up and spinning me in a circle. Apparently he’d forgiven me. I wished I could say the same. I went rigid, waiting to be put down, but Simon didn’t seem to notice. Finally he plopped me down.

“He’s small and he’s early, but he’s going to be okay.” He grinned as if he’d done something really amazing.

I tried not to smile but gave in.

“You want to meet him?” he asked me. He glanced at Mom. “Is that okay, Tara? Can I take Jaz down to see him? You can stay here and rest.”

I shook my head, but Mom nodded, almost disappearing into her pillows and closing her eyes again.

“Come on.” Simon leaned over and kissed Mom’s cheek and then grabbed my hand and pulled. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to your brother. Get some sleep, Tara. I’ll take Jaz to meet our baby.”

Before I could protest, he tugged me out of the room. “I’m sorry about the other day, Jaz. I understand why you blew up at me. Your dad—and then me, all complaining about your mom, and well, I’m sorry. I should never have said anything to you. It was stupid.” He dragged me along. “Let’s forget it, okay?”

He babbled on, giving me too many details about my mom’s water breaking at work and her fast delivery, her pushing starting in the car. When we reached the neonatal room, his voice lowered.

“He’s in the NICU. Some of the babies inside are really small, but he won’t be here for long. The nurses and doctor are concerned about his liver. But he’ll be okay. Come on. He’s over here.”

He tugged me past some heartbreakingly fragile babies attached to tangled wires, tubes, and IVs. The room was a blur of machines, lights, and alarms.

“That’s him.” He pointed inside an incubator.

I gasped. I gazed down at my tiny brother. Patches of kinky black hair covered his teeny head, which seemed too big for his thin body. Little probes poked into his dark skin. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his head lay sideways as if breathing was a challenge for someone so little. My heart melted like chocolate in sunshine. Sweet. Delicious.

As I stared down at him, a surge of love and protectiveness pulsed through my blood.

My baby brother. I loved him.

“He’s gorgeous,” I whispered to Simon. “He’s so tiny.”

“I know,” he answered.

The two of us stood in front of the incubator, staring in amazement at the little creature. Before long, Grandma arrived to see her grandson. We all stood in awe, admiring him in his little incubator.

“It’s late,” Grandma finally said. “They’ll be kicking us out.”

We went back to Mom’s room to say good-bye, but she didn’t open her eyes while we were there. We left the hospital, and Simon headed home to sleep for a few hours and to pick up baby supplies and a change of clothes for Mom.

I was worried about my mom, but Grandma told me she’d be fine. I had no choice but to believe her.

Good morning,” Grandma said when I finally crawled out of bed. It was past noon.

Grandma sat perched on her stool at the kitchen island with the Tadita
Standard
unfolded in front of her. “I made some muffins. Help yourself.” She pointed to a plate stacked with homemade baking on the kitchen table. I sniffed the air. Apple cinnamon.

“Simon called earlier. The baby’s doing better than they expected. He shouldn’t be in the hospital too long. Maybe two weeks.”

I waited to see if she’d say more, but obviously Simon hadn’t mentioned our fight at McDonald’s. And most likely wouldn’t.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” I asked.

“It’s good,” Grandma answered.

We smiled at each other as I headed for the fridge and pulled the door open to root inside for milk.

“Too bad the same can’t be said for your mom.” Grandma sighed.

I grabbed the carton of milk and glanced back at Grandma. “What’d you mean?”

“The baby needs her, but she’s acting all dramatic and helpless.”

I didn’t comment. I’d learned to stay out of the struggles between Mom and Grandma. Grandma could be pretty hard on Mom sometimes. Grandma was happy about the baby, but that didn’t stop her from being critical. In my opinion, my mom deserved a bit of a break. She’d just given birth.

I poured myself a glass of milk.

“You going to work today?” Grandma asked.

“Yup. At three,” I told her.

“Oh. They’re sending your mom home today. Simon said she hasn’t slept a wink in the hospital.” She made a tsking sound.

I ignored her, focusing on my milk, and went to the kitchen table and sat, reaching for a muffin.

“Your mom hasn’t even visited the baby in the NICU.”

I lowered my head and bit off a chunk of muffin.

“He should be bonding with his mother. Poor baby.” Grandma shook her head and tsked again. She flipped a page of her paper. “At least she’s pumping milk for him. She said she’s going to breast-feed.”

I chewed and shrugged. I had no desire to get involved in a debate about Mom’s parenting skills. Grandma waited for encouragement to go on, but I said nothing.

“Would you like to go and visit before your shift at work?”

I didn’t want to face the evil nurse or deal with Simon. “No. I have calculus homework I need to finish and I have to work tomorrow too.”

Grandma nodded. “I need Grandpa’s car to go to the hospital,” she reminded me.

“Maybe you could drop me off. I could study at Grinds before my shift.”

I’d done more than my fair share of homework at Grinds.

Grandma glanced at the clock. “Can you be ready to go in an hour?”

“Yup. I’ll shower and change after I eat.”

She pulled out a new section of the paper and laid it flat in front of herself.

“Oh. I almost forgot. Some handsome boy dropped off your guitar this morning. Said he was a friend of yours from work.”

My face heated up. “Oh.”

“Why’d he have your guitar?”

I dropped my eyes. “I left it with him last night. He drove me to the hospital.”

“You were with a boy after karaoke last night?”

I didn’t answer since it seemed rather obvious. Her eyes didn’t leave me.

“Oh. Well, he seemed polite. He said to tell you hello.”

She had no idea how polite. So polite he’d managed not to laugh in my face when I’d practically thrown myself at him. I felt like puking and put the muffin down.

I was glad when Grandma turned her attention back to her paper.

I left the kitchen and found my cell and called Ashley. She didn’t pick up, and I didn’t leave a message. I’d handle it on my own. Like I always did.

***

Not i
n the mood for caffeine, I ordered a juice from Amber and settled into a quiet corner table to get to work on my homework. My heart skipped a beat thinking about seeing Jackson in a few hours when he’d be working with me. Talk about getting signals wrong. I’d have to act like nothing had happened.

Halfway through a calculus equation, I was startled by a voice in the coffee line.

I glanced up. Jackson was in line, leaning against the counter and casually chatting with Amber at the cash register. My heart flopped, and I chomped harder on my pencil. He laughed and flicked back his hair with an unconscious toss of his head. In line behind Jackson, an annoyingly gorgeous girl with long blond hair was eyeing his butt. I couldn’t blame her. It was a butt worth staring at.

Jackson flashed a sexy half grin at Gorgeous Girl, and the orange juice in my stomach curdled. I watched as he placed a hand on her back and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. She smiled adoringly up at him, and then he turned to Amber and ordered coffee. Two coffees.

Amber glanced over and caught my eye and quickly looked away. I stared down at my math book, mortified. I wished I could fade into the background. Why had coming early to do homework seemed like a good idea?

I pretended to be absorbed in my work, praying somehow that Jackson wouldn’t notice me tucked into the corner. I barely moved or breathed, hoping he’d take his coffee and the girl to go.

“Jaz?”

Wincing, I sucked in a breath, forced a smile, and looked up. Jackson and the girl approached my table. Jackson’s cheeks looked unusually red and his face uncomfortable as if his underwear was scratchy. I hoped his underwear crawled with ants. Red ants that bit.

They got closer. The pretty blond gaped at me with wide, curious eyes. Her eyelashes were long and coated in mascara.

“Who’s your friend?” she asked. She didn’t seem jealous to meet me though. As if it would be absurd that someone like me would be a threat. Someone like me would never practically stick my tongue down Jackson’s throat.

Jackson didn’t seem to hear her. His mouth stiffened.

“Hey. I thought you didn’t work until later,” he said to me.

“I don’t.” I glanced down at my work. “Homework.” I sneaked another look at the gorgeous creature at his side.

“Oh.” He brushed his bangs back. “How’s your mom? She had her baby okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah. She’s okay.”

“Your mom had a baby?” the girl asked me. “That is totally weird.”

“My mom is only thirty-three,” I told her.

“Wow. My mom’s like fifty. I can’t imagine her having a baby.” She scrunched up her pretty face.

I nodded and glanced down, pretending to mull over my math homework.

“You got your guitar okay?” Jackson asked.

“Guitar?” the annoying chick chirped.

I looked up.

“Uh. This is Carrie,” he said to me. Based on the look on his face, his underwear had gotten even scratchier. “This is Jaz,” he said to Carrie.

“I’m his girlfriend from Whistler,” the blond told me, holding out her free hand to inspect her nails as if explaining she’d just come in first in a beauty pageant.

I swallowed. His girlfriend?

“Oh. Well, I only know Jackson from work,” I babbled. “Barely.” Not well enough to know he had a girlfriend. “Um. Nice to meet you, Carrie.” I pushed myself up, needing to escape, no matter how rude that was. “I have to go to the bathroom. Excuse me.”

I hurried past them, almost bumping Carrie’s coffee right out of her perfect hand as I squeezed past. Her perfect Caucasian hand.

“Jaz, hey, wait,” Jackson called as I took off for the washroom.

“Jackson, what are you doing?” Carrie demanded in a huffy voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

I picked up my pace until I reached the safety of the women’s washroom. I burst through the door and dove into a stall, locking it behind myself and panting with humiliation.

I dropped my butt on the toilet seat and put my head in my hands. A few minutes later, feet stepped inside the bathroom and stopped outside the stall.

“Jaz?”

Amber.

I groaned.

“He’s gone,” she said softly. “They left.”

I nodded. “Okay,” I said out loud. “Thanks.”

“You should talk to him. Don’t jump to conclusions,” Amber said.

I snorted under my breath. “It’s no big deal. We’re just friends,” I called.

Amber didn’t answer but she left. A few minutes later, I skulked out of the stall. I returned to my table, packed up my homework, and hurried out the front door and walked home. I phoned on the way home and told Amber I wouldn’t be able to work that night. She didn’t even give me trouble.

At home I took the phone off the hook, shut off my cell, and went straight to bed.

***

Sunday afternoon, I reported for work grouchy and tired. Of course, Lacey and I were working together, and she decided to make it worse.

“Hey, Jaz. Did you hear Jackson brought his girlfriend to work yesterday?” She watched as I punched in for work, one hand on her hip and the other flicking back her blond hair. “I totally didn’t know he had a girlfriend in Whistler, did you?”

I placed my time card in its slot.

“My mom had her baby,” I said, staring at Lacey and willing her to shut up.

“Oh. Yeah. I heard that.” Lacey fussed with the strings on the back of her apron. She smiled. “That’s great. How’s the baby doing?”

“He was early, so he’s pretty little. They’re watching his liver development. But Simon said he’ll be okay.”

“How about your mom?”

“Tired.” I narrowed my eyes. “Simon’s totally psyched about being a dad. Grandma said he’s handing out chocolate cigars to everyone.”

Lacey glanced toward the restaurant area. “That’s great. I mean, I guess you’re a big sister now, huh?”

I pictured the tiny little baby, and an intense surge of love stole the breath right out of me. “He looks like Simon.”

“Mmm? Well, great.”

Lacey twirled her hair as I pulled my apron off the hook and tied it around my back.

“So?” she asked. “Did you know Jackson had a girlfriend?”

She’d gotten back to what she really wanted to talk about. She knew me well enough to know I was crushing hard on Jackson. What she didn’t know was that I had unwillingly joined her club. The making-out-with-taken-guys club. And it felt horrible.

I ignored her and stomped toward the coffee pit. She followed, yapping close on my heels. “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend. I heard she’s really pretty. A cheerleader type.”

I spun around. “Shut up, Lacey. For once, just shut the hell up.”

We stared at each other, shocked by the vehemence in my voice. I breathed as if all the air had been squeezed from my lungs. “I don’t give a shit about Jackson or his stupid girlfriend,” I lied. “You’re concerned about the wrong thing. Again. Jackson didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend, okay? Does that make you happy? Because Jackson’s an asshole? Well. So are you. You’re both assholes and you’re both shitty friends.” I stared at Lacey, hating her as if she somehow had something to do with this too.

“I’m an asshole?”

We both spun around.

Jackson cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes, peering at me from the other side of the counter. “And a shitty friend?”

“You are,” I shouted and clenched my fists. Now that I’d taken off the lid, everything wanted to boil out. “I’m sick of you people acting like a bunch of children.”

I pointed at Lacey. “You with my mom’s boyfriend.” I pointed at Jackson. “And you not bothering to tell me you had a girlfriend.” I reached back, untied my apron, pulled it off, and threw it on the floor. “And who the hell cares? I’m leaving.”

It felt as if I was watching myself perform in some weird play. Jaz Evans didn’t act like this. “Tell Amber I’m sorry I took off on my shift,” I called.

I rushed out of the coffee shop and broke into a run.