The Way Back (6 page)

“Okay,” Jordan said with a sigh. “I'll bite. What's nice?”

“To have money.”

“I earn it.”

“Like it takes effort to take it from your mommy's wallet.”

“I have a job.”

This clearly surprised Gigi.

“See?” Jordan shook her head. “You don't know anything about me.”

“Yeah, well, I have a job too.” Gigi scraped her chair back and wagged a finger between Milo and Colby. “And if these two assholes won't do their part of it, I guess that leaves me to help Gram go through everything.”

Gigi stalked down the hall and disappeared into the shop, slamming the door behind her.

“You know what?” Colby rested her hands on her belly. It felt hard to catch her breath. Her head felt light.

The baby kicked, as if to let Colby know that he or she was right there.

Listening. Taking everything in. All of this. The fighting. The stealing. The dark cloud of drug use hanging just overhead, threatening to break and soak them all. “I don't want to go anywhere. I just need to go lie down.”

Colby stood in the hall outside the room she shared with Gigi. For the first time since getting kicked out of her dad's house, she wanted her own room again. Her own place. Away from all of this. Away from Gigi.

But she had this room. This was it for now.

Colby sat on the bed. She rested the jewelry box in her lap.

When she opened it, she gasped.

Right on top lay a necklace encrusted with diamonds, nestled on one of those black velvet molds that keeps the necklace in the right shape.

Beside it, a small black velvet box. Inside were matching earrings.

A sapphire bracelet tucked in a velvet drawstring bag.

Four gold rings in one of the drawers. One that looked very old and had a large solitaire diamond in a delicate setting.

And a small gold bangle, meant for a child.

There was an inscription on the outside.
Guess how much I love you?

And on the inside too.
Up to the moon and back.

Colby felt as if someone had grabbed her heart and squeezed. She had to concentrate on taking a deep breath, and it was hard.

This bracelet didn't belong here. In Gram's house. In Colby's hand.

None of the jewelry did.

It didn't belong to them.

Colby would take it all back.

She heard Gigi coming down the hall, talking on her cell. Colby shoved everything back into the box, slammed it shut and slid it under her bed.

Gigi opened the door and saw Colby. She rolled her eyes.

“I thought you went out with your faggot fiancé and lesbian lover-best friend.” Without waiting for a reply, Gigi turned on her heel. “No,” she said into the phone. “Just Colby and her gigantic belly, taking up space in MY room. I'll meet you in ten minutes. Yeah, I've got money.”

When she was gone, Colby opened the jewelry box again. She touched the child's bracelet.

She'd give it all back. Just drop the box on the front step and take off.

Not right away though. They'd be hypervigilant now. And besides, she had to go pee in a cup for Mr. Horvath. But first, a nap.

hey, baby

For whatever reason, no one asked about the jewelry box. Colby figured that Jordan and Gigi had been too busy hating each other to remember it. Milo probably hadn't noticed it in the first place.

Gram did ask if anyone had found any jewelry, but when they all said no—including Colby—she hadn't pushed. Nor did anyone mention the box. So it stayed under Colby's bed, while she tried to figure out when to take it back.

Colby was enormous now. It was hard to find a comfortable position at night, and so she tossed and turned, shoving various-sized pillows under her hips, between her knees, along her back. Nothing was comfortable. She hardly slept, which left her with long dark nights to do nothing but think.

About how to move out of Gram's. About where her dad might be. About the baby. About how it would feel to be a mom.

Sometimes she'd get a sudden pain. Practice contractions, her midwife told her. They didn't mean that the baby was coming, just that her body was getting ready. At first, Colby had been terrified of them. But at night, when she was lost in a sea of dark thoughts, she appreciated them for kicking her back to reality.

If it was early morning and Colby couldn't get back to sleep, she'd get on the bus and go see Jordan at work. Jordan's new job was at a coffee shop called the Velo Café, which had a bicycle drive-through window. It was owned by one of her mom's ex-boyfriends, a hipster with a beard and thick-rimmed glasses and a wardrobe full of skinny jeans that didn't suit his tubby figure very well. Martin was nice, though, and was happy to have Jordan working for him so long as she was sober.

Milo had been hired there too. When Colby had told him she was done with stealing, he'd told Gram that he was done too. Gram bristled but didn't try to talk him out of it. And then he'd decided that his baby's father wasn't going to be having sex for money either, so he got a job at the Velo too, even though the money was tragically little compared to what he used to make.

But it was a job. And it had nothing to do with drugs or sex, which Colby was thrilled about. She hated that he used to have sex with skanky old men. It was probably pure luck that he hadn't caught some nasty disease. Luck—and condoms. Which he was usually very serious about. Except for that one time.

Milo might have looked harder for a better job, but he liked Jordan, and he liked Martin, and he really liked the tall, lanky barista called Etienne. Etienne wore jeans folded up to his calves, and pale blue canvas shoes, and short-sleeved button-up shirts with bowties. And a hint of eyeliner, which actually looked really good on him and made his green eyes sparkle.

The day that Colby went into labor, she hadn't had any practice contractions for ages. Labor wasn't even on her mind, other than the constant reminder of her enormous belly.

There she was, sitting in the café with Milo, who had just finished his shift. Jordan and Etienne were working.

Colby had reached for her iced mocha, about to scoop a finger of whipped cream into her mouth, when all of a sudden she felt a warm, spreading wetness between her legs.

“Oh, no,” she whispered. “No, I didn't.”

“Didn't what?” Milo said, not really interested. He was looking at ads for apartments. He had to move out of his studio. He'd finally admitted to Colby that it had been subsidized by a guy who ran several gay bars in the West End. He'd let Milo stay there for cheap in exchange for regular favors.

“My water just broke.”

“Your water just—” Milo realized exactly what Colby was saying. He leaped up. “Your water just broke!” He spun around and yelled, “Her water just broke! We're having a BABY!” He jumped up and down, literally squealing. “Oh my god. OH MY GOD! Let's go! We have to get your hospital bag. It's at Gram's, right?”

Colby nodded.

“Okay, okay.”

Jordan tore off her apron and ran to Colby's side. “What do you need? Name it. It's yours. I'm here. Totally here for you.”

Colby put up her hands. “Everybody slow down. The baby is not coming right this minute.” All of a sudden Colby was gripped by an intense pain. She held her breath until it passed. “At least, I hope not.”

“We have to go!” Milo shouted.

“My pants are wet.”

“Come with me.” Jordan helped her to the staff room and gave her a pair of her pants. “Bonus of being fat is that these will fit you.”

The first cabbie who stopped drove off when he saw Colby buckle with pain during a contraction. The second agreed to take them as far as Gram's but wouldn't wait to take them on to the hospital.

“Asshole,” Jordan said when she'd paid the driver.

“We'll get Gram's car,” Milo said.

The three of them went inside. Milo put a towel down on the couch and instructed Colby to sit there. But she didn't want to sit. She wanted to walk. She paced the room, talking to the midwife on the phone, telling her what was happening.

Jordan found the hospital bag.

Gram came running. “I'll drive!” She grabbed her purse.

“Where's Gigi?” Colby asked when she hung up the phone.

“I don't know,” Gram said, steering everyone to the door. “She didn't come home last night. Maybe with that boy.”

“He's no boy, Gram.” Colby winced as another wave of pain hit her. Gigi was dating a drug dealer who was at least twice her age. “Arman is a creepy MAN. He's no good.”

“Well, no good or not”—Gram grabbed Colby's arm and pulled her up—“he's not here. She's not here. And you are having my great-grand-baby. Let's go.” She'd long given up her ungay-Milo hopes, but she was ecstatic about the baby being a blood relation, accident or not.

By the time Colby got into a birthing room, her contractions were coming fast and strong. She wanted to walk, though, and growled at Milo when he suggested she get onto the bed. She didn't want to lie down. Not at all. She wanted to pace.

Jordan, wisely, said nothing. She had a couple of tennis balls and was massaging Colby's lower back with them the way the midwife had shown her. Colby rested her head on her arms and leaned against the wall, moaning.

“No lesbian jokes,” Colby muttered between contractions.

“Nope.”

“Just keep doing that though.”

“You like it like this?” Jordan said with a smile in her voice.

“I said no lesbian jokes.”

“No lesbian jokes.”

Colby only asked for drugs one time, and that was when she was already pushing and it felt like she was trying to pass a semi-truck, but then she delivered the baby's head and everything got a lot easier.

Not painless, no. But easier than straight-up contractions.

The baby slipped out, and everyone in the room cheered as the midwife wiped the baby's face and placed the squalling, tiny thing on Colby's chest.

Colby cried and cried—and then thought to look at the baby.

A girl. A
daughter
.

She had a daughter.

She was a mom.

This was her kid.

“A girl,” she whispered.

Milo leaned over. “A little girl.”

“Wow,” Jordan said.

“Thank God.” Gram kissed her cross necklace. “A healthy baby girl.”

And she
was
healthy. Colby was moved to a private room with a chair that unfolded into a bed for the dad. But Milo was getting antsy and didn't want to stay, so Jordan was the one who ended up sleeping on the fold-out cot. The nurses came in several times during the night to check on Colby and the baby, who was supposed to sleep in a plastic bucket beside the bed.

“A bassinet,” the nurse said.

“A plastic bucket.” Colby kept the baby with her instead, against her chest and against the nurse's orders.

“You're young,” the nurse admonished her when she came in and found Colby still cuddling the baby to her. “You don't know any better.”

“This is
my
baby,” Colby said. “I know best.”

“You're what, seventeen?” The nurse glanced at Colby's chart.

Jordan, who'd been only half-asleep, stood up. “How old are you?”

“None of your business,” said the nurse.

“Neither is the fact that she doesn't want her baby to sleep in a plastic bucket after spending nine months all nice and cozy inside.”

“I'm calling the social worker,” the nurse said. She pointed a finger at Colby. “I know your history, kid.”

It was probably Mr. Horvath who came by first thing the next morning. But Colby was already gone. She'd wrapped the baby up in the blanket Gram had knit, and with Jordan's help, they took the bus home. To Gram's.

Gigi in the night

Colby named her baby Luna Grace.
Luna
for the big moon she spent so many hours gazing at from her window at Meadow Farm.
Grace
for her mom.

Milo wanted to name her Scarlet Ruby, but Colby vetoed that as super dumb. Jordan figured they should name her something more gender neutral, like Taylor or Kelly. Or Jordan.

Gram loved the name, just as she loved everything about the baby. Colby could've named her Dump Truck Sani-Station and Gram would've sung it in a lullaby without so much as blinking.

And Gigi?

Well, she hadn't met her niece yet.

Luna was a week old, and Gigi hadn't even seen her. She'd come once to get clothes and look for a mascara, but Colby had only just fallen asleep with Luna after a really long, hard night and Gram forbade Gigi to even tiptoe into the room. Not even to look for the missing mascara.

When Colby woke up later, she cried. “I would've wanted her to meet Luna, Gram.”

“You needed sleep.” Gram put a plate in front of Colby. Peanut butter on toast. A mug of hot, milky tea. “Besides, she was in no state to meet a new little baby.” She shook her head and made a disapproving
tut-tut
sound.

Gigi didn't meet Luna until she was almost three weeks old, and even then, it was hardly a proper introduction. If Gigi needed anything, she came by in the middle of the night. Even if Colby was awake, she'd pretend not to be. It was awkward now. There was too much space between them. They were so far apart now, Colby wasn't sure how she'd ever get back to Gigi. Or get Gigi to come back to her.

One night when Gigi came into the room, Colby was wide awake. Luna was asleep beside her, tucked in one of those Baby-Safe Sleeper thingies. Colby had just nursed her and was almost asleep too, but not quite.

Colby shut her eyes when she heard Gigi come in. And she would've stayed like that, pretending to be asleep, except that she heard Gigi rooting under Colby's bed.

The jewelry box.

Colby turned over. “Hey.”

Gigi raised her phone, the light on it making Colby squint. “Hey.”