Every day I think of Grace a little less until she is an itch of a memory, like when you know you’re forgetting something, but you don’t know exactly what it is.
With Freddie around and Hattie’s stomach growing every day, life is faster and more all-consuming than I ever remember it being before. I look forward to the mornings when I go swimming with Freddie and Agnes. I’m getting faster and I feel stronger. My legs barely even burn after my paper route anymore.
One day after school, I go with Hattie and Tyler to BabyCakes to look at, well, baby stuff. “So are we registering or what?” I ask. Hattie isn’t even due until April. I can’t imagine what she could possibly need so early.
She shakes her head as she fingers through the bottle nipples in the first aisle. “Not today. I just want to get a feel for this stuff.” Her brow furrows as she checks over her shoulder. “Where’s Tyler?”
“No clue.”
“Tyler!” she calls.
“Coming!” he yells back as he rounds the corner on one of those motorized scooters.
Hattie crosses her arms over her belly. “What the hell? Those are for, like, people who need them.”
Tyler speeds down the aisle toward us and then hits the brakes hard, forcing the wheels to squeak. “Who’s to say I don’t need it? I had a long day at work yesterday, okay?”
“It was your first day,” Hattie reminds him. “You only filled out paperwork.”
“That’s why it was so long.”
Tyler finally has a job, and it’s thanks to Dad, actually. He got Tyler in with the maintenance guys at the hotel. Dad went out on a limb, but it was for Hattie, not Tyler.
We zigzag up and down the aisles, the motor on Tyler’s scooter humming behind us.
“All this shit is so expensive,” says Hattie. “How do normal people even have babies?”
“We’ll figure it out,” I say, but the truth is I don’t know. This stuff really is expensive. You need strollers and cribs and bottle warmers and diapers and ointments and diaper bags, and it never seems to end. For such a little person, it seems like an awful lot.
The three of us stop below an aisle of hanging mobiles. Fish, trucks, angels, ballet slippers, rabbits, construction hats, princess crowns, clouds, trees. Every type of thing you could think of dangles above our heads, and the three of us, even Tyler, are mesmerized. The ceilings here aren’t too terribly tall, so with my height, my head is nearly in the same space as the mobiles.
“I like the stars and the clouds,” says Hattie, pointing to a light wooden mobile with hand-painted white puffy clouds and gold shooting stars. “I wish we could paint clouds on her ceiling.”
“Maybe we can,” I say. Even though there are no extra rooms in the trailer and all the ceilings are already dark with water stains.
“Her?” laughs Tyler. “It’s a boy. I’m a straight shooter.”
“Gross,” I mumble.
“And I like the fish,” he says. “He’s gonna be a fisher.”
While Tyler plugs the scooter back in, Hattie buys a pair of lavender booties.
“You don’t really care if it’s a boy or a girl, do you?” I ask as she hands the cashier a ten-dollar bill.
She smiles with her lips sealed and absentmindedly rubs her belly. “No,” she says. “Not even a little bit.”
On Thursday morning I wake to a text from Saul.
If you are receiving this text, you are invited to my housewarming party on Saturday eve. Yes, I, Saul Pitre, have left my mother’s bosom in favor of the bachelor life. Food, beverage, and good times provided. Price of admission: your body. HELP ME MOVE.
And then moments later I receive another text directed specifically at me.
Ramona dear, bring the straight one.
It doesn’t take us long to move Saul. He has mostly clothing and a large DVD collection of B horror movies. The trickiest thing is the mattress and box spring, but with a little effort, we maneuver it in.
Afterward, we all lie spread out on Saul’s floor, because he doesn’t actually have any furniture.
Hattie corralled Tyler into helping with the promise of free food. The two of them sit with Tyler’s back against the wall and Hattie’s back against Tyler. He traces lines on her stomach absentmindedly while she closes her eyes. To be honest, I’m surprised Tyler even agreed to show up.
Ruth is lying facedown in the kitchen, pressing her body hard into the cold tile floor while Freddie is sitting beside me beneath the fan as we both beg it to spin faster. Today was another unseasonably humid day and maybe not the best day for Saul to move.
“Oh my God,” I moan. “Feed us.”
Saul pops down onto the floor like his legs are made of springs, with both his arms full of Styrofoam to-go containers. “Po’boys from Risky’s.”
Ruth crawls over and snatches a box for herself. “Mine.”
A few moments later, with my mouth full of food, I turn to Saul. “So this was sort of spur of the moment, don’t you think?” Now that I am not in need of food in a primal way, I can ask what I’ve been wondering all day. “Were you saving up for this place or something?” Every time I think I know everything there is to know about Saul, he nonchalantly strolls out a new piece of information about himself, like his life is some kind of clown car. So it’s not all that odd that he sprung this on us.
Behind Saul, Ruth raises her eyebrows and makes a face that says there’s more to this story.
“It was time,” Saul says.
“Really?” Hattie scoffs. “That’s all you’re giving us?”
“Yeah,” says Ruthie. “And don’t you wonder how he’s affording this place all by himself?”
“That’s a good point, Ruthie!” I say. “You wanna be bad cop?” I ask her.
“Y’all are so nosy.” He takes another bite of his sandwich and takes his time chewing and swallowing before setting it on the container. He pushes down on his knees and takes a deep breath. “I met someone, okay? And it’s pretty serious.”
“What!” I shout. I expected that Saul had been maybe dipping his toes into something illegal to afford this place or that his parents asked him to move out after catching him mid-hookup. But a serious relationship? That might have been the last thing I expected.
It’s silent for a moment, before Hattie asks, “So where is he?”
“On a boat.”
Ruth puts her sandwich down, and the words spill from her. “He met a roughneck over the summer and has had this huge secret relationship with him and now they’ve got their secret love bungalow or whatever and our mama is fuh-reaking out.”
Oil. Offshore drilling. It’s the fastest way to make money around here without going to college. A few weeks on the rig and then a few weeks off. It’s a sweet deal for as long as you can maintain going back and forth like that. Does a number on your social life and your body, that’s for sure. “Wait,” I say. “You’re tellin’ me this guy isn’t out or it’s some kind of secret thing y’all got going on?”
“He’s out to me?” His voice is tiny.
“Saul!” I gasp. “You’re breaking your own rules!”
“Rules?” asks Freddie. “What rules?”
The natural light in the apartment shifts as the sun begins to set, and for the first time I notice how nice this place is. It’s only a block off the coast. All the appliances are new. All the flooring is real hardwood and new tile. It’s better than any place I’ve ever called home.
I sigh. “No dating in the closet. And no long distance.”
Saul’s eyes meet mine, and there’s something in them that I recognize. He’s got this desperate yet thrilled look to him. Saul is in love. Part of me wants to hug him and tell him that some things are worth breaking the rules for. But I can’t.
I think back to Grace and how all I wanted was for someone to tell me we could make it work. Some kind of reassurance that I wasn’t setting myself up for heartbreak. I look to Saul and give the most encouraging smile I can muster. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
His face lifts. “Let me grab my phone and show y’all a picture.”
As he runs to the bedroom, Hattie turns to Ruth and says, “There’s no chance of this ending well.”
Instead of saying she’s right or wrong, I pull my knees into my chest and chew on the french fries in my to-go box. Freddie scoots close to me and touches my thigh. “You okay?” he whispers.
I nod. I want this to work for Saul. He deserves to be happy, and if he does, maybe I do too.