2. Keeley
two
Keeley
Ilooked down at Hannah where she lay sleeping peacefully in the portable crib.
She was beautiful. A head of dark hair haloed her cherublike face.
Long eyelashes curled over her cheeks, and her bow-shaped lips were perfection.
She inhaled a wobbly breath, her body still recovering after she’d cried herself to sleep in LaShelle’s car on the ride from the hospital.
Her face was turned toward me, her hands curled into fists on either side of her head, and her legs were bent at the knees, her little feet kept warm in the onesie she wore.
I ached to pick her up and cuddle her, to make everything better. But I didn’t dare wake her.
I dimmed the lights and stepped away from the crib. My entire being screamed at me not to leave her. Protectiveness surged within me. My heart broke for the little angel fast asleep in her new room.
Hannah’s safe person—heck, her entire world—had just been ripped away from her.
She was too young to understand why her mom hadn’t come to collect her from daycare.
I couldn’t imagine how scared she would have been having a stranger take her from her familiar surroundings, wondering where her mom was, why LaShelle was taking her, and where they going.
She was only just learning to talk—she couldn’t ask the questions that needed answering.
She wouldn’t have understood the responses either.
But she now knew fear. She knew longing for something she could never have again.
She knew heartbreak and what being in an unfamiliar environment with strangers felt like.
Hannah had no idea what tragedy had just befallen her life—she’d already lost her dad, and now her mom—but she was already suffering the fallout from it.
It was only going to get worse when she woke up and found me, yet another stranger looking down at her. I desperately wanted to shield her from the pain and fear that she was in for. I cast my gaze up, thinking about her mom, Elise, and wishing she could see how much I wanted her daughter.
I wasn’t religious, but I hoped there really was an afterlife, one where Hannah’s mom and dad could watch over her and reassure her that while she was with me, I’d love and care for her. I could never replace her parents, but I would do my damnedest to be there for Hannah.
I wanted this little girl more than I wanted my next breath, and it wasn’t because of Simon’s actions either.
It wasn’t because I didn’t want to be alone.
I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to care for a little person and watch them grow.
The likelihood of Hannah not having other family was remote, and my dreams would probably end up a shattered mess at my feet, but I couldn’t help getting my hopes up.
Could this little girl lying before me be the one? Could Hannah become my daughter?
Just thinking about the possibility had my heart beating harder. Excitement skittered through my veins at the thought.
Guilt followed swiftly and with a vengeance.
The gut punch almost doubled me over, stealing my breath and taking me out at the knees. This little girl, who was too young to have to experience loss like this, could have lost everything and everyone important to her. She might be alone in the world.
Yet I was happy.
I was giddy at the thought of adopting her.
Ecstatic that I might become a mom.
I was a disgusting human being.
Every other child Si and I had fostered were only temporary placements and respite arrangements.
We’d known they were going home. Still, we’d held out hope for every single one of them—a kind of sick and twisted optimism that one might get to stay.
They only ever lived with us temporarily—anywhere from a couple of nights to a few months.
Fourteen-year-old Andy had been our longest—he’d lived with us for eight months and thirteen days before moving in with his dad.
I’d wanted those kids to go home once their relatives were in the position to take them back safely.
But every time one left, it broke me. My heart was left shattered, each new loss another stab wound slowly killing my dream—our dream.
We’d grieved every one of their losses like we were losing our own child.
But this…. This was a new level of low. I was already picturing the changes I’d make to this bedroom so it became hers. I was already thinking of being a part of her firsts. I was already imagining her calling me Mamá and me telling her how loved she was.
I wanted there to be no one else who could look after her. I wished it. I prayed she was alone in the world.
I was a monster.
A selfish, heartless monster who was aching for an innocent baby’s pain so I could get to live my fantasies. It was the kind of thing horror movies were made of.
Hannah was barely a toddler. She could be bounced between homes, her childhood packed up into a trash bag and transported to one family after another. The thought killed me. Yet her being alone was exactly what I wanted. I yearned for it.
I was so desperate to be there for her, wanting it with every fiber of my being, that I was prepared to beg the universe for the worst to happen.
My intentions—the desire to give her a safe place to grow up, to fill her life with love and laughter—were irrelevant when it came from a place of such selfishness and greed.
I loved her already. Hearing her story had been enough.
I hadn’t even needed to lay eyes on her to know I would cherish her.
The moment LaShelle told me about her, I'd fallen.
But the realization of my dreams would only happen if her pain and loss were absolute.
And I wanted that. It was a sickening realization, one I hated myself for.
I pushed down those thoughts. Hannah wasn’t up for adoption.
She needed emergency care. She likely had other family who would be searching for her the moment they were told about her mother’s death.
I’d probably get a call tomorrow or the next day to tell me that she had other family—an aunt or uncle or grandparent.
LaShelle would come and take her, and Hannah would grow up with a loving family. I’d get the dose of Karma I deserved.
Until then, I would do everything to secure Hannah’s well-being. I tugged up the blanket until it was just below her arms, switched on the baby monitor, and whispered, “Goodnight, sweet Hannah.”
Then I tiptoed out of the room and pulled the door mostly closed, leaving it ajar so the room wasn’t completely dark.
“Where's Simon?” LaShelle asked, making me jump at the sudden noise. She’d been standing beside me the whole time, but I’d zoned out looking at Hannah’s beautiful tawny brown cheeks.
I led LaShelle to the kitchen and gestured to a chair. Then I pressed my lips into a tight smile and admitted, “He left. We broke up very recently.”
“Weren't you on your way home to tell him about Hannah?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, we broke up very recently. As in a couple of hours ago.”
“Oh.” LaShelle looked toward Hannah’s room, and I could see the questions forming in her mind. Was it the best decision to leave Hannah with me? Should she take her somewhere else? Was she going to be a priority with someone who was going through a fresh breakup?
Before she could voice any of the concerns, I cut her off. “LaShelle, I want to be here for Hannah. She needs someone. I can be that person.”
“And what about looking after yourself? You can’t take care of Hannah if you’re not okay.”
“I have loads of support—Mom is close by. She’s coming over tomorrow to help out. I can work from home or take some time off if I need to. Hannah is my highest priority. She’ll be safe and loved here. I can be who she needs.”
LaShelle didn’t look happy, but she eventually relented and relaxed back into the chair she was sitting on. She opened the Bluey backpack that had Hannah’s name written across the top and fished out a folded sheet of paper.
“This is Hannah’s routine, how she falls asleep, and what her favorite foods are. She hasn’t yet transitioned away from formula to cow’s milk, so she still takes a bottle of it a couple of times a day.”
I took the note from her, written on the day care center’s letterhead, and read the perfect loopy handwriting.
The foods she enjoyed most were plantains, scrambled eggs, soft cooked okra, and corn bread.
She loved banana, but wouldn’t eat it mashed, and would demolish a bowl of pasta sauce made with ground beef provided it didn’t have the pasta in it.
She wouldn’t eat spaghetti, but loved shells and bowties eaten plain.
The educator had also written down the brand of formula, how much she took, and when, the brand of bottles she used, the size and type of diapers, and clothing sizes too.
“The daycare center wasn’t sure whether you would have anything on hand, so they’ve packed up all the spare diapers, bottles, and formula they had.”
“Oh, that’s great,” I rushed out, relieved that I might have enough to get Hannah through the night.
“Does Hannah have any allergies?” I asked, trying and failing to bite back a yawn.
“None the daycare center knows about. But she hasn't tried seafood or nuts.” LaShelle paused, then asked, “What will you do for daycare? The center is on the opposite side of town.”
“Hannah should stay there at least until you know what her permanent care arrangements are. I'll make sure I can get her there and back every day. She needs familiarity.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“LaShelle, how do I care for her hair? I’ve never…”
She smiled. “It’s okay. I added a list of products that I like using in my hair.”
“Thank you,” I breathed. “I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”
“YouTube has some great videos, but essentially, wash her hair once or twice a week at most. Use a specialty shampoo and leave-in conditioner. Be gentle brushing her hair. Her brush from daycare is in the bag too. Hannah’s educator said she often wears her hair in puffs—high pigtails.”
“Okay, I can do that.” I nodded, making a mental note to set my alarm a lot earlier than usual so I wasn’t rushing Hannah.
I paused for a moment and added, “It’s probably too early to think about it, given we don’t know long-term care arrangements, but I want Hannah to be connected with her culture. Do you have any contacts I can reach out to so she can be involved?”
LaShelle smiled and patted me on the hand.
“You’re a good one, Keeley. The daycare center Hannah attends is a Black-run facility.
The educators love connecting the kids with their culture.
It’s part of what they do every day. They’ll be able to help put you in contact with a community center, but don’t forget the gospel churches.
They’re important parts of our cultural heritage. ”
We spoke for a while longer, until I couldn’t hide my yawns anymore, and LaShelle asked, “How about I do that inspection now and let you turn in?”
I followed her around the house as she checked cupboards, ensured the heavier furniture was anchored to the walls, and the cords for the blinds were screwed down, among a hundred other things.
Everything was okay—we kept it that way in case we were called upon for urgent situations exactly like this—but it was a relief when LaShelle said, “You’re all set, Keeley. ”
She smiled gently and gestured to Hannah’s room as I followed her to the front door. “You be sure to call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
LaShelle tucked her tablet under her arm, and I bade her farewell.
I rested my forehead against the locked front door.
My eyes slipped closed as exhaustion washed over me.
That bone-deep sadness and elation were there, too, but I was too tired to self-flagellate.
I wasn’t sure whether Hannah slept through the night or not, but I was going to be ready either way.
I prepared her bottles, measuring out the formula so it would be ready to mix when she woke up, and left everything just outside the door to Hannah’s room, ready to go for when she woke.
I put in an order for groceries to be delivered first thing the next morning and then, heavy limbed, I groaned and headed to my bedroom. I needed a stiff drink and a whole cheesecake. Or maybe a piece of cheesecake and a whole bottle of liquor. But given the toddler now in my care, I chose sleep.
I came face-to-face with the bed and knew I wouldn’t get any rest in it. I could still smell Si’s cologne lingering in the air, and his scent would, no doubt, be on his side of the bed despite the missing pillow. I was going to disinfect anything he touched.
Had Amanda slept in our bed when I’d been away? I’d travelled with the team to Australia at the end of the last season. Si and Amanda would have been together then. Had he brought her here and slept with her in our bed?
I added an STI test to my mental to-do list. Who knew who else he’d been with?
Asshole.
I shook my head, brushed my teeth, then snatched up my pillow and a blanket from my closet.
First thing tomorrow, I’d ask for some time off. I needed it.
I picked up my cell phone, and it vibrated with a message waiting for me to check.
Minns: Hey Keeley, Coach has rescheduled our meeting to 9:00 AM tomorrow. Can you be there too, please?
Correction. I needed some time off after that meeting wrapped up.
I shot off a quick reply, sent a message to my HR director asking to see him, and set my cell to “do not disturb.” My options were the rocking chair in Hannah’s room or the sofa in the living room.
Hannah’s room it was.