“Thank you,” she said, allowing him to take her elbow and escort her part of the way. “Thank you,” she said again as she reached the bathroom door, although the young man was already gone. “Thank you,” she repeated a third time, standing in front of the mirror, throwing water on her cheeks and watching as it dribbleddown her neck toward the white collar of her navy blue sweater.
Several minutes later, her bladder emptied and her nerves calmed, Chris retraced her steps, only to find Barbara gone. She stood for several seconds in the middle of the hall, not sure what to do next, whether to sit down and wait for Barbara to come back from surgery or whether to go home, as Barbara had suggested. Except she had no money, only $10 to give Mrs. McGuinty for looking after Wyatt. So she had no choice but to wait for Ron to show up. That was okay. Montana was in school. Wyatt was being well looked after. It was peaceful here. Quiet. No one was telling her what to do or how to do it, no one was telling her she was lazy or stupid or selfish.
It was then that she felt a hand on her back, familiar fingers pressing into the flesh beneath her blouse. Oh, God, she thought, stifling a cry in her lungs, her shoulders stiffening. He’d found her. She’d been a fool to think he wouldn’t find out, a fool to think he wouldn’t know where to look.
“Are you Chris Malarek?” a woman’s voice asked.
Chris spun around so quickly she almost knocked down the middle-aged woman in the white nurse’s uniform standing before her. Chris nodded vehemently.
“Mrs. Azinger was taken into surgery,” the nurse explained. “She asked me to give you this and said she’ll call you later.” The nurse dropped five new $20 bills into Chris’s hand.
“Thank you,” Chris whispered. “Thank you very much.” In the next minute, she was sobbing wildly on the other woman’s shoulder.
* * *
She had to leave him.
Pregnant or not, she couldn’t live this way any longer, always looking over her shoulder, afraid of her own shadow. “I can’t live this way,” Chris was saying, her hands trembling as she fought with her key to open the front door. “I can’t live this way anymore. Afraid to leave the house. No money of my own. Lying to my friends. Collapsing in front of total strangers. I can’t do it.”
She looked down the street, at the taxi that was disappearing around the corner. She loved this street, Chris thought, pushing open the front door. Especially now, in early April, when the cool, damp air was so full of promise. How could she leave it? How could she leave her friends, the wonderful women of Grand Avenue, whom she loved with all her heart? Her best friends in the world. Chris smiled as each beautiful face flashed before her eyes. Still, her friends would understand why she had to leave. They’d known for months that something was wrong. Only her great shame had prevented her from telling them the truth.
She’d pack a small suitcase, pick up Wyatt from Mrs. McGuinty’s and Montana from school, spend the night at a hotel, decide then what to do next. She still had a credit card, didn’t she? Maybe not. No. Tony had taken away her credit cards, said they were in enough debt as it was, and she was so careless with money. He was right. Money had always slipped through her fingers with alarming ease. That’s why he’d found it necessary to take away her credit cards, to stop her weekly allowance, to give her only a few dollars a day, to make her account for every cent.
It wasn’t so awful. This way she didn’t have to worry about spending too much or planning too far ahead, because she’d never been good at planning too far ahead, her mind was always racing from one thing to another, which was why they’d decided she really shouldn’t be driving, because she was so easily distracted, and they both knew she’d never forgive herself if she was to get in an accident, especially if the kids were involved. Besides,
Several minutes later, her bladder emptied and her nerves calmed, Chris retraced her steps, only to find Barbara gone. She stood for several seconds in the middle of the hall, not sure what to do next, whether to sit down and wait for Barbara to come back from surgery or whether to go home, as Barbara had suggested. Except she had no money, only $10 to give Mrs. McGuinty for looking after Wyatt. So she had no choice but to wait for Ron to show up. That was okay. Montana was in school. Wyatt was being well looked after. It was peaceful here. Quiet. No one was telling her what to do or how to do it, no one was telling her she was lazy or stupid or selfish.
It was then that she felt a hand on her back, familiar fingers pressing into the flesh beneath her blouse. Oh, God, she thought, stifling a cry in her lungs, her shoulders stiffening. He’d found her. She’d been a fool to think he wouldn’t find out, a fool to think he wouldn’t know where to look.
“Are you Chris Malarek?” a woman’s voice asked.
Chris spun around so quickly she almost knocked down the middle-aged woman in the white nurse’s uniform standing before her. Chris nodded vehemently.
“Mrs. Azinger was taken into surgery,” the nurse explained. “She asked me to give you this and said she’ll call you later.” The nurse dropped five new $20 bills into Chris’s hand.
“Thank you,” Chris whispered. “Thank you very much.” In the next minute, she was sobbing wildly on the other woman’s shoulder.
* * *
She had to leave him.
Pregnant or not, she couldn’t live this way any longer, always looking over her shoulder, afraid of her own shadow. “I can’t live this way,” Chris was saying, her hands trembling as she fought with her key to open the front door. “I can’t live this way anymore. Afraid to leave the house. No money of my own. Lying to my friends. Collapsing in front of total strangers. I can’t do it.”
She looked down the street, at the taxi that was disappearing around the corner. She loved this street, Chris thought, pushing open the front door. Especially now, in early April, when the cool, damp air was so full of promise. How could she leave it? How could she leave her friends, the wonderful women of Grand Avenue, whom she loved with all her heart? Her best friends in the world. Chris smiled as each beautiful face flashed before her eyes. Still, her friends would understand why she had to leave. They’d known for months that something was wrong. Only her great shame had prevented her from telling them the truth.
She’d pack a small suitcase, pick up Wyatt from Mrs. McGuinty’s and Montana from school, spend the night at a hotel, decide then what to do next. She still had a credit card, didn’t she? Maybe not. No. Tony had taken away her credit cards, said they were in enough debt as it was, and she was so careless with money. He was right. Money had always slipped through her fingers with alarming ease. That’s why he’d found it necessary to take away her credit cards, to stop her weekly allowance, to give her only a few dollars a day, to make her account for every cent.
It wasn’t so awful. This way she didn’t have to worry about spending too much or planning too far ahead, because she’d never been good at planning too far ahead, her mind was always racing from one thing to another, which was why they’d decided she really shouldn’t be driving, because she was so easily distracted, and they both knew she’d never forgive herself if she was to get in an accident, especially if the kids were involved. Besides,
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