4. Something Borrowed
Chapter Four
SOMETHING BORROWED
Saskia “Sass” Coy
A few hours earlier…
“How are you gone be late to the race, though?”
Pinning the phone to my ear with my shoulder while reaching on the floor of my car to grab the Walmart bag, Canada yelled nonsense in my ear.
“How am I late when it’s eight in the morning and the race isn't for some hours, Can?”
With the three Walmart bags now in hand, I remained seated, watching the house in front of me.
The lawn was well-kept, but the dew from the new day caused a shine on the grass, reminding me to use the walkway so I wouldn’t slip and fall.
The last thing I needed was to be nursing bruises and calling off from my job.
As demanding as it was, I loved being able to live my dreams even though I’d wished I were employed at another hospital.
“I’m just saying shit. You could have gone to Walmart last night.”
When I got off work at six, the first thing I did was come here and then take my ass home. After baths and mouths were stuffed, I was knocked out until my alarm went off this morning to be right back over here.
“I had to go to Walmart. That was the least I could do. Mrs. Jean asked me this morning to grab her some pinto beans and neckbones, so I came here first and then went back up to Walmart up the road.”
“Neckbones and Pinto beans? Girl! What the hell? The only things she cooks is ravioli and oatmeal. The microwave kind. The hell she gone do with some pinto beans?”
Standing outside the car, I pulled my scrubs from my crotch and headed to the front door, leaving the engine rumbling. The neighborhood was so quiet that I almost felt bad about leaving the car idling. But it didn’t make sense not to, I’d be in and out.
“It’s not for her. She mentioned her neighbor.” I whispered even though I was outside.
“Awl okay. Yeah, I had a plate from Ms. Debbie. She can throw down.”
Rolling my eyes, I paused at the door, refraining from ringing the doorbell because I knew Mrs. Jean would see me on camera.
“Well, I’m going to be on time. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, and remember, you got this Frieeend! I just might tamper with your opponent’s tires so you can really have that shit in the bag.” Canada was the type to do some crazy ass shit like that.
“Bye girl.”
“Byeee. Give my mook moonk a kiss for me.”
“I hate that fucking nickname. Sound too close to monkey,” I frowned.
“Well ohh ohh ahh ahh bitch. Do what I said.”
Canada disconnected the line just as the front door opened.
I smiled warmly at my second lifeline. Mrs. Jean was Canada’s auntie and had been my everything.
When I arrived a year ago, I was lost and scared.
I didn’t know what my next move would be.
I’d driven until my eyes were tired, and Diamond Cove, North Carolina, just happened to be where I’d grown hungry.
Stopping at a diner off the coast with stunning views of the ocean, I wasn’t seated five minutes before Canada came over and hugged me.
She’d been the third stranger in less than forty-eight hours that I had found some comfort in.
Canada, although named after the country, wasn’t truly Canadian.
In fact, she was a wealthy, street-smart realtor with major connections in the city.
She’d been named after her parents’ honeymoon destination, where she’d been conceived.
Everybody knew Canada, and Canada knew everybody.
She helped me rent a place using false documents.
I loved my two-bedroom townhome, which was close enough to the beach but far enough to avoid the beach prices.
I remembered telling her I only needed a one-bedroom, but since the price of two was actually cheaper than one—which was absurd—I took it.
I knew I didn’t need the space, but I wanted to save money.
Falling in love with the city after being there a week, and Canada coming by every day like she wasn’t a highly sought-after realtor with clients lined down the block, had me confiding in her.
Just as I’d done with Dasani, I told her everything.
Instead of running for the heels, Canada used her connections to not only help me out but also make my life safer.
Using the same false documents, which just so happened to be tied to a fake name, she was able to get me an ID, a Social Security number, and strip the VIN number off the car.
The chop shop had tried to get me to sell to them, and even though it was stolen, that car made me feel closer to my father, even though there was no real connection.
So, if I could comfortably ride around in it, then that was what I was going to do.
I had been able to secure a job in my field using the same documents that Canada had her person fabricate for me for the leased townhome.
I didn’t like to think of my partially new identity as stolen because I only used it at work.
To those who knew me here, I was still Saskia or Sass.
When I walked into the hospital, it was a different story.
Most of the time, I wasn’t called by name anyway.
So many people came in and out of Orange County Medical since it was the county hospital, and near the hood, that to them, I was the heart and lung girl.
“Where you able to find everything? How much I owe you?”
Mrs. Jean, a short, stubby woman with a heart of gold, stepped aside so I could come in. I could hear the stories on the TV in her living room but took the shortcut through her dining room to her kitchen. Placing the bags on the counter, I then detoured to the room behind the kitchen.
I told myself I was only coming in to drop off the groceries and leave, but I couldn’t help myself.
The smell of peppermint and the soft hum of a humidifier, along with nursery tunes playing on the Alexa, made my eyes water.
Three cribs lined the wall, but I walked to the navy one right in the center.
The Finding Nemo stickers on the ocean blue painted wall made it feel like you were underwater instead of in a nursery. I loved it here.
After using the hand sanitizer, I reached into the crib but stopped at the sound of Mrs. Jean’s chastising.
“I love you, Sass, but if you wake my baby up, I’m going to call my niece and tell her you’re going to work. She said you were off today to pamper for your race, but I don’t know many women who wear scrubs to the nail salon.”
A smile covered my face even though my eyes were watering.
Hair that looked brown in the blue lighting, but I knew otherwise, sat in a fit of curls on the most beautiful head belonging to the most beautiful baby.
If life hadn’t been unkind enough to me, as soon as I settled into my new job, I found out I was pregnant.
I had plans to abort, but knew this was yet another sign from my father, plus I was already five months old when I found out.
So, I kept it. I kept the baby even though I was technically a runaway bride, driving a stolen car all the while borrowing an identity.
It was by God's grace that my baby was healthy. Since I didn’t find out I was pregnant until my second trimester, I had been drinking, racing, and doing all kinds of reckless things until I felt kicks.
I was so exhausted from working and so scared that everything was going to fall apart at any second that stress caused my periods to become irregular.
I truly had no idea I was pregnant and regretted my recklessness throughout my entire pregnancy.
This baby was the reason I was still here.
I was hundreds of miles from home, trying to lay low while still having a life, and working tirelessly at a hospital.
But I was carrying life; I had a six-figure income even though the state paid me less than the average for my field.
I had a roof over my head, and I felt safe.
If it hadn’t been for my child, I might have walked into the ocean and never looked back.
Canada had been there every step of the way, cutting the cord and staying at my house, only going back home a month ago.
She’d been with us the duration of my six weeks to help me out with the baby.
She let me rest and heal, all the while rotating night shifts with the baby like she was the baby's daddy.
My baby loved her just as much as I did.
Not wanting to make Mrs. Jean's life harder, especially since she had opened up her in-home daycare on a weekend for me, I bent down and kissed the top of my baby’s head, catching my necklace before it could touch the baby, and tucked it back in my scrub top before turning to leave, before I became too emotional.
Mrs. Jean shook her head at me with a smile.
“You are obsessed.”
“I am.” There was no reason to deny it. The worst thing that had happened turned out to be the best thing that had happened.
I spent my pregnancy in a positive mindset, making sure I brought a healthy baby into the world.
My work hours were long, and my days were tough, but grief hadn’t overtaken me, and I had a will to live.
Even though I earned a six-figure salary, I didn’t spend frivolously.
I had a borrowed identity, but I had run away from a groom and stolen another man’s car.
My mind was always alert because I didn’t know when I’d have to leave again.
Canada assured me I was safe because she knew people, but I had to rely on myself.
So, I saved all my money, only spending when necessary.
If I had to run again, this time I wouldn’t need to steal or beg. Maybe still borrow, though.
“Well, get on down to that hospital. Don’t let them people keep you all night.
You have a race to win. Also, let the baby stay here overnight.
Let your hair down and enjoy your day off tomorrow.
Before you tell me no, I’m letting you know I ain’t accepting.
” Ms. Jean propped her hand on her stout hip.