The Weight of Shadows (22 page)

EIGHTEEN

“Daddy, can we please stay outside and make a snowman?”

Joshua glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Sweetheart, it’s getting dark. It’s nearly time to make dinner.”

“We can eat later. I’m not even hungry. Please-please?”

Joshua pulled into his parking spot and shut off the car. “Okay, but it’s going to have to be a very small, very fast snowman, okay?”

“Alright!” Maddie swung her feet as Joshua unlocked her seatbelt and helped her to the ground. She took off for the patch in front of their unit and began to form a snowball while he carried her backpack to the railing of their patio and dropped it over.

“Want some help?” he asked her.

“No, I want to make it alone. Just watch me.”

“Alright then.” He leaned against the building and watched as she coaxed the snowball along the ground. His ears picked up the sound of a baby crying, and he realized it was Kim’s daughter. He glanced around the parking lot and saw Rick’s car was not yet there.
Here I go, God. Hope you’ve got my back.

He wandered towards the windows of Kim’s apartment and stopped outside the one decorated with pink curtains. After one last look to the driveway and parking lot, he looked in and saw Kim bouncing the baby in her arms as she walked across the room. He knocked on the window and Kim jumped, then gave a small smile when she saw his face. He looked once more at the parking lot, then motioned for her to open the window.

“Sounds like the baby has colic, huh?”

Her eyes swept the parking lot as she spoke, her voice terse. “If that means she screams all the time and I can’t fix it, then yes.”

“Maddie used to do that. Have you tried swaddling her?”

Kim frowned. “Like what they do in the hospital? No, I didn’t know…”

“Give it a shot. It worked wonders for Maddie. And tummy drops too.”

Kim’s eyebrows arched. “Tummy drops?” She laughed, though there was little amusement in it. “I wish someone had told me about this stuff before.”

“Have you talked to your pediatrician yet?”

“We don’t have one. We just go to the clinic, but my one-month appointment isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Definitely have them show you how to swaddle if you’re not able to figure it out, and in the meantime, a pharmacist can help you find tummy drops at the drug store. Maddie was like a different baby when we started doing those things.”

Kim’s features melted into a mask of relief. “Thank you so much, Joshua. I’ll send Rick to the drug store tonight.”

“Great. And, um, I’ve been meaning to tell you, if there’s ever—”

She shut the window in his face and drew the curtain over it. Headlights washed over the snow. Joshua bent down and began to pack together a snowball.

“Are you gonna make one too, Daddy?”

“Yeah, kiddo.” He rolled the ball towards Maddie and waited until he heard a slamming car door before glancing up. Rick went up the walk, ignoring Joshua’s nodded greeting, and let himself into the building without a word.

Please, God, don’t let him have seen us talking.
Joshua paused in his snowman construction to listen for sounds of distress coming from Kim’s apartment, but he heard nothing. He resumed his building, much to Maddie’s delight, but didn’t relax until their snowmen—and their dinner—were complete and not a peep had been heard.

K
IM HAD BEEN CHEERING
her turn of luck—until today. The suggestions Joshua had given her at the beginning of the week had worked like magic. The first day of minimal crying gave Kim such a mental boost she found the energy to clean the bathroom before bed, as well as mop the kitchen floor. The second day was even better—it gave her hope that the day before had not just been a fluke, but that Anne had turned a corner with the help of the little pink drops and the snugly-wrapped receiving blankets. The third day she forgot to be as grateful as she had been the two days prior, and the god of calm babies snubbed her once again.

The crying started just minutes before Rick walked in the door from work. Kim almost had dinner done, but ten minutes before the roast was to come out of the oven, Anne began to wail. “Oh no,” Kim said in the doting voice she found herself using with the baby. “Oh dear, oh dear, what’s wrong now?” She wrapped her up and dropped a dose of the tummy medicine into her wide open mouth, then bounced her gently as she walked around the living room. Unlike the last few days, she didn’t begin to calm down. Instead, she began to wail even more. Kim tried to nurse her, then checked her diaper, but neither solution helped. She tried to sing, she tried to rock. Again, nothing.

From the nursery, she heard the door slam and called to Rick to take the roast out of the oven when the timer went off. A minute later she smelled something suspicious. She walked out with the baby still in her arms and gasped. Smoke billowed to the ceiling of the kitchen. “What happened?”

“This was beeping when I came in,” Rick said, his tone accusing. “The roast is charred. You ruined it.”

Kim shook her head. “No, it shouldn’t be too bad. It was due out at five, and it’s just a few minutes past. It’s probably just the outside that’s blackened. We can cut it off and it’ll be fine.”

Rick yanked off his jacket and threw it over the back of the sofa. “Why is she crying now? What did you do to her?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything. I don’t know why she’s so upset. She’s been great the last couple days.”

“Right, so you did something. What was it? Did you forget her too? Leave her in the crib too long? Forget her in the bathtub?”

Kim’s lip quivered. “Of course not! I don’t know what’s wrong with her!”

Rick ran a hand through his hair. “You know, I work hard all day and when I get home, the last thing I want to deal with is a kitchen fire and a screaming baby.”

“Well I’m sorry, I’m doing the best that I can.”

“Well if you can’t handle it maybe we need to change something.”

“Like what? What can we do differently?”

Rick took the baby from Kim. For a blind moment hope surged through her again.
He’s going to help with the baby!

Then she saw the fire in his eyes.

“Shut up!” he yelled into Anne’s face. The baby’s screams escalated. “Shut up!” He shook her, then yelled again. “I said shut up!”

“No, stop!” Kim screamed and grabbed for the baby, but Rick dodged her and gave Anne another shake. Kim grasped Anne and tried to steady her in Rick’s arms, and then, desperate, kicked Rick in the groin. Her aim was off, but close enough to make him groan and stagger back, releasing Anne in the process. Kim snatched her and ran for the nursery. She slammed the door closed with her foot, but Rick threw it open before she could lock it. She fell to the floor, curled around the baby, shielding her as best she could from what she knew would come next. Rick shouted a string of obscenities at Kim as his fists sought to break her. When the blows stopped falling and Rick’s muttering faded into the living room, she unfolded herself and dragged herself to the door. She nudged it shut, then crawled back to Anne who lay wailing on the floor. She saw no bruises on the baby, no evidence that Rick’s punches had broken through the armor she had tried to create with her arms and body. Ignoring the throbbing pain of her own injuries, Kim held Anne to her breast and encouraged her in a shaking voice to eat. Eventually she calmed enough to latch, and Kim huddled in the corner while Anne nursed, shushing and singing shakily as the adrenaline settled out of her system.

She had never suspected Rick would ever take his anger out on Anne. Anne had no sins to make amends for, no penance to pay. Kim was the one who deserved the blows, not this innocent child. How could Rick do that to his own flesh and blood?

She thought back to when she was pregnant, and Rick had beat her so badly she’d gone into labor. That night, alone in the hospital, she had decided to leave him for the sake of her baby, but he had charmed her with the nursery and she had chosen to stay. Why? Why had she decided to risk the life of her baby?

The face that haunted her dreams surfaced again in her memory.
γou know why you stayed. γou had to. γou owe a debt you don’t know how to pay any other way. The guilt was killing you
—
what will you do without the punishment you deserve?

Kim stared down at the tiny person in her arms and knew she had a sacrifice to make. What was more important—her own selfish need for a way to make things right with the universe, or the life of her daughter? Could she possibly survive with the blood of yet another innocent person on her hands?

“No,” she whispered. “Nothing is more important than keeping you safe. I’m your mother. I have to protect you, no matter what I have to sacrifice.” She clutched Anne tighter to her breast and vowed to herself it was over.

Tomorrow. She would leave tomorrow.

K
IM WAITED UNTIL RICK HAD BEEN GONE
for twenty minutes the next morning before she set herself into action. She grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and shoved in some clothes for herself and the baby. Into her purse she put her social security card and birth certificate. Then she scoured the house for money, managing to scrape up a little over six dollars in bills and coins, which she placed in her wallet.

Next she packed the baby’s diaper bag with the essentials and glanced over at Anne, silent in her crib. She still didn’t know what Rick’s attack could have caused, but she knew if she started thinking too much about it she’d get sucked into a vortex of worry that would hinder her from doing what she needed to do.

She brought the bags to the front door, then threw together a quick lunch. She was starting to get antsy, so she ran into the nursery and put three layers of clothes on the baby, then packed her into the stroller with blankets on and around her. The diaper bag slid into the storage section beneath it. The duffel was too big, so she draped the shoulder strap over the stroller’s handlebar, then pushed the stroller to the front door, pulled on her coat, opened the door, and stalked out.

But…what if…

Her heart was racing but her feet wouldn’t move. “Just go,” she said aloud. “Just go.” Anne began to whimper again, and her pitiful voice was the catalyst Kim needed to finally take a step into the hall, then another, then another. She paused in front of Joshua’s unit, debating.
It’s the middle of the week. He wouldn’t be home.
Just in case, she fired a couple quick knocks on the door, but as she suspected, no one was there. “Here we go then,” she said under her breath as she pushed the stroller out the security door.

It was then that she realized she had no idea where to go. Her mind raced. She was desperate to start moving, but in which direction?

A cluster of faces popped into her mind: Bette, Suzie, Emma, Rumiko. Their offers to stay with them rang out in her memory, and she shoved the stroller onto the sidewalk and pointed it towards the salon.

In most places the sidewalk was shoveled, but there were some spots where the snow was still two and three inches thick. She rammed the stroller through the mini drifts, her feet becoming more numb with each step, eyes focused on the area ahead where the walkway was clear. Bus after bus roared past, but knowing how little money she had she couldn’t bring herself to spend it on a ride. At least Anne wasn’t crying.

The walk that once took her half an hour took more than twice that long, and when she reached the salon her whole body felt like it was going to fall apart. She hadn’t walked this far in months, and she still had not completely healed from Anne’s birth. She stood outside the salon for a minute to compose herself and calm her rattled nerves, and then she pushed open the door and went inside.

It took Bette a moment before she cried, “Kim!” and bounded out from behind the reception desk. She wrapped her arms around Kim’s neck and hugged her like a long-lost sister. “I can’t believe you’re here! And look—the baby!” She pulled Kim to a chair. “Sit down. You look done in. Did you walk all the way here?”

Kim swallowed back the lump that rose in her throat. “Yeah, I did—need the exercise, and it looked like such a pretty day.”

Bette laughed. “You’re insane. It’s got to be close to thirty degrees.” She bent to coo at Anne. “Can I hold her? What’s her name?”

Kim unearthed the baby from the pile of blankets. “This is Anne Shirley,” she said as she handed her to Bette.

“Like the book!”

“That’s right.”

“She’s gorgeous. Look at those eyes.” Bette carried her back to the station area. “Girls, look, it’s Kim and her baby!”

A chorus of squeals rose above the music that played on the store-wide speakers. Kim’s heart melted at the sound. How had she stayed away from her friends for so long? When was the last time anyone had shown this much pleasure at her presence?

Rumiko trotted out and gave Kim a quick hug. “I’ve got a client, but I’m done in twenty and we can chat then. How you doing?”

“I’m good, thanks. A little worn out from the walk. I think I overestimated my abilities.”

“When was she born?” Bette called back to Kim.

“The eighteenth.”

Rumiko’s eyes grew wide. “That’s barely a month and you’re out running around! Girl, you nuts.” She gave her another squeeze before going back to her station. Suzie and Emma came out to give her hugs as well, then went back to their clients with promises to come hang out as soon as they could.

“How long can you stay?” Bette asked as she handed Anne back to Kim. “Oh, and she bit my chest so I think she’s maybe hungry.”

Kim chuckled and pulled a blanket from the stack in the stroller. “Yes, I’m sure she is.” Flinging it over her shoulder and tucking Anne under her shirt to eat, Kim asked, “So how is everyone doing here? How are things? What have I missed?”

Bette sat down in the desk chair and settled her chin into her upturned hands. “Oh, let’s see. They raised the rent for the stations and everyone went ballistic. But no one stepped up to organize everyone the way you did when they tried to impose tip-splitting, so…” She shrugged. “Anyway, let’s see, what else…” She filled Kim in on all the new gossip, and while she spoke Kim felt herself getting more anxious inside. She hadn’t thought at all about what she’d say to these women, how she would ask for help, and now that the opportunity to do it was here, she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to admit what was going on in her life. They’d all take it the wrong way, which is why she’d never said anything to them in the first place, back when it all began. And yet, how could she ask for help, for a place to crash until she figured out what to do, without explaining why?