Chapter 5 #3
“That can’t happen, because I don’t have a high school diploma.
I got pregnant with my son in my senior year and had to drop out.
I’d planned to go at night while my mother babysat her grandson, but when Bobby was a year old, he came down with rheumatic fever, but that was before anyone knew he’d had strep throat.
Then I had to scrap my plans and stay home with him. ”
“How old is he now?” Justine asked.
“He turned six in October and is in the first grade. I have to watch him carefully and not let him become overexerted, because he was left with minimal heart damage.”
“Thankfully you didn’t lose him.”
Pamela nodded. “You’re right; it was touch and go for a while. I have to go or I’m going to be late. It takes forever to get this little one into her snowsuit. I have to dress myself before I dress her, or she’ll get overheated and start screaming and won’t stop until we’re outdoors.”
Justine wanted to tell Pamela that dealing with a sick baby or dressing one for winter weather was something she wouldn’t have to deal with. Once she gave birth, it would all become Precious Boone’s responsibility.
She waited for Pamela to leave, closed the door behind her, then walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver to dial the number of the secretarial school.
Her call was answered after three rings.
Justine gave the receptionist her name and informed her she was pre-registered for six weeks of coursework of typing, shorthand, and recordkeeping.
Her call was transferred to the intake director, and ten minutes later, Justine had committed to begin classes the first week in March.
The school had locations in three of the five boroughs, and Justine selected one several blocks north and west of Macy’s department store, because it was a direct route.
All she had to do was walk across the street and take the downtown subway to 34th Street, then walk four blocks to the school.
Over the past few weeks, Justine had experienced an increase in her appetite, and she needed to purchase outfits in a larger size.
She was gaining weight and losing her waistline at the same time.
There was another item she wanted to buy in order to save money: a secondhand sewing machine.
She’d watched one of her aunts make all of their clothes, from tracing a pattern to pinning the garment together before sewing the seams.
Although Mrs. Crawford had mentioned she would receive money each month from the midwife, Justine wanted to save as much as she could, and along with whatever she’d earned from working, so she wouldn’t have to pinch pennies to make ends meet.
City College was tuition-free, but she still had to pay student fees and purchase books.
Justine did not have to concern herself with spending a lot on food.
Her mother and aunts would cook pots of rice, peas, beans, oxtail and beef stews, and greens with fresh and smoked neckbones to not only feed everyone, but also to last for several days; her favorites were baked macaroni and cheese, smothered turkey wings, potato salad, fried chicken, and pork chops, which were served on Sundays and special family gatherings.
When one door closes, another one opens, Justine thought, smiling.
It was as if she could hear her Grandma Flora talking to her.
Her life had hit a temporary bump, causing a slight detour, but for Justine it was just that—temporary.
She never would’ve predicted graduating high school six months early had come as a blessing, because if she was going to have a baby in June, then it wouldn’t have been possible for her to join her classmates to receive her diploma.
Girls who’d found themselves pregnant were forced to drop out and attend night classes.
Justine sat on the living room sofa, listening to the radio.
Search for Tomorrow and Love of Life had become her two favorite daytime soap operas, while she never failed to listen to Dragnet, Tales of the Texas Rangers, and Our Miss Brooks.
Although television was beginning to replace radio as the principal form of family entertainment, Justine still preferred listening to the radio, because it challenged her imagination as to what was happening despite not seeing the images.
A wave of fatigue washed over her where she could barely keep her eyes open.
She knew if she didn’t get up and go into the bedroom, she would fall asleep on the sofa.
Justine forced herself to get up and turn off the radio, and she walked into the bedroom and fell across the bed fully clothed.
It was hours later when she woke, refreshed, and went into the bathroom to relieve herself and wash her face.
She stared at the image in the medicine chest mirror on the wall over the bathroom sink, looking back at her.
It was as if she didn’t recognize herself.
Her face was fuller than it had ever been, and her hair, which she straightened with a hot comb, had become even thicker.
And that meant she had to go over sections of hair not once, but twice to tame strands before she was able to style it.
Once it was straightened, she curled her bangs, then swept her shoulder-length hair in a ponytail and curled the ends.
She’d also made it a practice to cover her hair at night before going to bed, with a bandana to keep the edges smooth and straight.
What she refused to do was look at her body in a mirror, despite the obvious changes, because it would serve as a constant reminder of the thing growing inside her. A thing she cursed before it was to take its first breath to live on its own.