Saving Grace (6 page)

“I bet that feels better,” Leslie said with a grin. She sat the baby up on her lap. I noticed Brianna didn't squirm or try to get away. She couldn't like Leslie more than me. I was her mother.

I reached over for Brianna. “I have to change her,” I said.

“They've got a changing table in the ladies' room,” Leslie said, getting to her
feet. I slid out of the booth, pulling the backpack behind me. “You want any dessert?” she asked as she gathered my dishes. “We have apple pie, blueberry, lemon meringue and banana cream.”

“Um, yeah, banana cream, please,” I said. “I'll be right back.”

I took Brianna into the bathroom. At first I couldn't find the changing table. Then I realized it wasn't a table. It was just a thing that folded down from the wall, and I knew I couldn't change Brianna on that. There was no way I could keep her from falling off and get a diaper on her at the same time.

So I put the changing pad I'd used in the truck down on the bathroom floor. It looked pretty clean—in fact the whole bathroom kind of smelled like Javex. I figured Brianna would be a lot safer on the floor.

This diaper was a lot easier to change than the poopy one was. And I was getting better at the snaps on the sleepers. I washed my hands and then
I picked up Brianna and my stuff and headed back out to the table.

I could hear voices as I came out the bathroom door. Leslie was talking to somebody. I looked over toward the counter and saw a police officer standing there with his back to me.

I couldn't breathe, and my feet seemed to be stuck to the ground. The police officer turned around and there was nowhere to run. I held Brianna tight against me, one arm around her body and one across her shoulders. I wasn't letting go.

“Thanks,” he said to Leslie. “See ya.”

He walked toward me, and I saw he was carrying a big brown paper bag with a piece of paper stapled at the
top. He smiled as he passed me. I don't know if I smiled back or not. Then he was out the door.

I sagged against the wall. My legs were all shaky, as if I'd forgotten how to walk, but somehow I stumbled back to the table. Through the window I saw the red lights of the police car disappear down the street. I took a deep breath and let it go. We were safe, and pretty soon we'd be on a bus going far away from here, and no one would be able to take my baby away from me.

Leslie came over with my pie as I was putting Brianna into the car seat. The baby's nose was red and sore-looking from being wiped so much. “Is there a store that's open anywhere around here?” I asked. “I need to get some cold medicine.”

Leslie frowned. “You know you can't give that to a baby, right?” She bent over and felt the baby's cheeks and forehead. “She is warm. I think she probably has a fever.”

“Are you sure I can't just give her some of that stuff they advertise on tv?” I asked. “You know that commercial with that guy from the show about all the doctors. He's the tall one with the blue eyes. I wouldn't give her very much.”

“You can't give her anything like that. She's a baby. She's just a few months old. But you could take her to the after-hours clinic and get one of the nurses to take a look at her.”

I felt Brianna's face. She was really warm. I must have looked worried because Leslie said, “I'm sure she's all right. Babies get fevers all the time. The clinic is just down the street.” She leaned across the table and pointed out the window. “See those lights just down there? That's it. They're open till midnight.”

I could feel that lump again in my throat. I couldn't finish my pie because I couldn't swallow anything past it. Brianna was whining and coughing, and there was gunk on her nose again. But
how could I take her to the clinic? They'd ask too many questions. She grabbed my finger, tightly, the way she did before. All I could think was
I'll die. I'll die if they take her away from me. I can't give her back
.

My heart was pounding so loudly I was surprised Leslie didn't hear it. She was gathering the salt and pepper shakers from the tables and setting them on the counter.

I looked at Brianna. Maybe she wasn't that sick. Okay, so she was coughing and her nose was running, but that was just a cold. A cold wasn't that big a deal. And even Leslie had said that babies get fevers all the time. As soon as we got to Halifax I'd take her to a doctor. First thing. But right now we had to get going.

“Excuse me. Can you tell me where the bus station is?” I asked Leslie. She was filling the salt shakers from a giant box of salt.

“Sure,” she said. “Go left when you go out the door and then left again at the
corner. You can't miss it.” She paused. “And the clinic is just up to the right across the street. Like I said, you can see the lights from here.”

“Thank you,” I said. I gave her a twenty and waited for my change. Then I put on my jacket, gathered all my stuff and tucked the blanket around Brianna.

“Bye,” Leslie said. “Take good care of that little one.”

“I will,” I said. “Bye.” By the time the police showed up to ask questions, if they even did, Brianna and I would be long gone.

Brianna started coughing again as soon as we were outside in the cold air. I set the car seat down and lifted her out. For once she didn't kick or squirm. She just settled in close to me with her head on my shoulder. “Just a couple more hours and we'll be safe,” I whispered. “I promise as soon as we get to Halifax we'll find a doctor.”

I could hear Brianna's wheezy breathing and it made me think about
my mother. I don't know how old I was, six maybe, and I was sick. It was more than just a cold. I remember she rubbed some kind of awful-smelling stuff on my chest, and she sat by my bed all night. Every time I woke up she was there with a glass of water and a cool cloth for my head.

I felt a sharp pain stab my chest. Missing my mother hurt the same as thinking about giving up Brianna. Tears filled my eyes and I had to blink hard to make them go away. I didn't have any time to cry. I hooked the handle of the baby seat over my arm. Left, she'd said, and then left around the corner. I walked down the street with the car seat bumping against my hip.

I turned the corner. There were two big buses pulled up in front of the bus station.

And two big police officers at the door.

I backed up, turned around and started walking fast up the street. Goddamn Justin. I had to stop for a second so I
could catch my breath. I pressed my cheek against Brianna's. “It's okay,” I said. “It's okay.” I didn't need Justin. I could do this without him.

There was an alley next to the diner, narrow and dark, with a big Dumpster against the wall about halfway down. The Dumpster stank, but not that much, and I'd smelled worse. There were a couple of wooden things stacked against the wall by the Dumpster. They looked like low wooden platforms. I give them a push with my foot, but they didn't even wobble and they were better than sitting on the ground. I set the car seat down and shifted Brianna from one shoulder to the other. I didn't have anything to wipe her nose with, so I used the edge of my sleeve.

I couldn't believe Justin had ratted me out, but he had, and if I thought about it I was going to be so mad or even cry, and I didn't have time for that. A couple of tears came from somewhere and slipped down my cheek.
I rubbed them away with the back of my hand and swallowed the fear creeping up from my stomach.

Okay, so we couldn't take a bus. We could hitch. I'd walk back up to the highway and we'd find a ride—anywhere, just away from here. Off in the distance I heard a police siren. Were they looking for me? I listened. No, it was going away from here.

Brianna couldn't seem to stop coughing. “It'll be okay,” I told her, tucking the blanket closer around her. “Don't be scared. They're not going to take you away from me.” I was shaking. Not because I was scared. It was just cold in between the Dumpster and the building.

I stood up and the baby puked. All over my sweater, down my back, even in my hair there was baby puke. My stomach flip-flopped, and for a second I was afraid I was going to heave too. I closed my eyes for a moment and started breathing through my mouth. Brianna
was crying and, I couldn't help it, so was I.

I cleaned her up with the blanket and a handful of baby wipes. Then I put her in the car seat.

There was barf all over my jacket. And there were only a couple of wipes left in the package. I got the puke out of my hair, but I couldn't clean it off my jacket. I was just going to have to go without it. We'd just walk fast, out to the highway. I could do this.

I bent down and picked up Brianna again. I stood there, rocking back and forth, and she stopped crying. She smelled like barf, and I could hear every breath she took. And with our faces together I could feel how warm she was.

My tears fell on her cheek. I wiped them away but they kept on coming. I could hear the sirens again. I wanted my own mother. She would know what to do. But the only mother was me.

I rocked Brianna, back and forth, until she fell asleep in my arms. The
only sound was her breathing. I kissed her, her forehead, her cheek, the top of her head. She was my baby. “Nobody loves you like I do,” I whispered. My hands were shaking. Every part of me was shaking. “I'm your real mother,” I told her.

I hooked the back pack over one shoulder and walked down the alley. There were no people around, but I could hear the traffic in the distance out on the highway.

I didn't even stop walking. I was the only mother there was. I crossed the street and turned right. Down toward the lights of the clinic.

Darlene Ryan
is the author of
Rules for Life,
an ALA Best Book nominee. Darlene lives in Fredericton, New Brunswick.

Visit her website at
www.darleneryan.com

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