WHEN NOVEMBER GOT HOME, SHE SAT down and forced herself to eat a tuna salad sandwich, even though she usually avoided fish, and she drank two bottles of water. As she chewed, she thought about all the good stuff her baby was getting. But who was getting her baby? Was she eating well so the Prescotts could buy a healthy kid?
Feeling restless, she flipped through the television channels, stopping at something on the Discovery Network called Critical Delivery. It was all about mothers who had had complications having their babies. I don’t need to be watching this, she thought. Especially today. But once it was on she couldn’t turn it off—it was horrifying and mesmerizing. One mother’s baby died. Another mother was trying, painfully, to deliver two breech babies. She ended up having surgery, but her twins were beautiful when they were shown close-up at the end of the show.
I wonder what this baby will look like, November wondered as the show paused for commercials. Sandy hair and freckles? Skinny legs? Curly dark hair like mine? Strangely, she always visualized Josh rather than herself when she thought about the baby’s looks. Somehow she never pictured a tiny little November in her arms. Only a small Josh.
Finally she forced herself to switch the television off. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she said out loud. She dug in her purse, checked her wallet to make sure she had bus fare and enough to buy a magazine or two, and headed down the street to the bus stop. She figured a trip to the library might help clear her head. She couldn’t remember if Olivia was working today, but she hoped she could hook up with her for a few minutes.
November breathed deeply in the warm summer air—Mrs. Miller’s roses were in full bloom, and the smell was finer than any perfume. The sun on her skin was just warm enough. She almost felt as though she were being bathed in gold. It made her think about one of the best vacations she’d ever had, when her mom had taken her to Myrtle Beach a couple of years ago. She had spent hours lolling on the sand, listening to the rhythm of the surf, and basking in the sun. I love sunshine, November thought happily.
The bus rumbled to her stop and November sat down in the first empty seat. She closed her eyes and thought back to that grainy image on the sonogram. A girl! A baby girl! I wonder how Mom felt when she found out she was pregnant? Did she love me right away? Would she have given me away?
“When are you due?” a young-sounding voice said, interrupting November’s thoughts.
Startled, November looked over. A very pregnant girl was sitting next to her. “Uh, I’ve got about four more months. How about you?”
“The doctor at the clinic says any day now.” The girl wore a very tight hot pink T-shirt stretched over her huge belly and matching pink flip-flops covered with tiny pink daisies. Shiny silver-sparkled eye shadow decorated her eyelids, and she wore her blond hair brushed back into two long braids. This kid looks like a baby herself!
“How old are you?” November asked.
“I’m twelve.”
“Twelve? You’re in middle school?” November’s jaw dropped. She was the same age as Jericho’s brother Todd. “What school do you go to?”
“Hazelwood Middle School. I’ll be in seventh grade next year.”
“Do you know a kid named Todd—cute, curly black hair, runs track?”
The girl grinned, showing off a mouth full of braces. “Yeah, I know Todd. He sat next to me in math last year.”
November gulped. “How did you, you know…” November pointed at the girl’s bulging tummy. “How did you…I mean, uh, you’re twelve.”
“How did I get pregnant? Same way you did,” the girl said casually.
“But you’re just a kid—shouldn’t you be playing with Barbies or something?”
“I know I’m young, but I’m very mature for my age,” the girl replied. Her fingernails were painted bright green. She dug in her purse, which was decorated with Disney princesses, pulled out a pack of Jolly Rancher candy, and popped two in her mouth. “Want one?” she asked November.
“No, thanks. My doctor doesn’t want me eating a lot of sugar. Didn’t your doctor say anything about that?” November suddenly felt like an adult, which made her feel really uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat.
The girl rolled her eyes, the same eye roll November had used on her own mother for years. “Give me a break. You sound like my mother.”
“I guess,” November replied. They rode in silence for a few minutes, then November asked, “Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”
“It’s a boy. I’m going to name him Hector, after his daddy. What about you?”
“I just found out today,” November said, wonder still in her voice. “It’s a girl.”
“You got a name picked out yet?”
“Yeah,” November said, “I do. Her name is Sunshine.” The name just appeared on her lips, like a lovely song. But when she said it, she knew it was the only name that would work.
“That’s a really pretty name. I wish I was having a girl. You get to buy all that cute pink stuff. Girls’ clothes are way cuter than boys’! Pink is my favorite color,” the girl added wistfully.
November wondered how this kid was going to take care of a baby, and she tried to figure out a way of asking that wouldn’t offend the girl. “So, are you going back to school in September?”
“Yeah, my mom says I have to.”
“So who’ll watch the baby?”
“My mom will. She’s already watching my older sister’s kids, so she won’t mind.”
“How old’s your sister?”
“Sixteen. She’s got two kids—Lacey is three and Mickey is almost two.”
“So, you have a boyfriend?” asked November, feeling slightly incredulous.
“Sure! Don’t you?”
“Not really,” November replied as she shifted her gaze past the girl and out the window.
“Did he dump you when he found out about the kid? That happened to my sister the first time.”
“No, he died.”
“Ooh, bummer. Well, here’s my stop. It was nice talking to you.”
“Good luck,” November told her.
The girl waved a brief thanks, then waddled off the bus and disappeared into the crowd.
When people look at me, do they think I look as foolish and pitiful as that kid? November wondered. Probably so. She’d always imagined that when she got married and had kids she’d have it all together with a fine husband, a great career, and a nice house in the burbs—the storybook stuff. By then she’d be able to welcome a new baby with the best of everything—designer blankets and sophisticated educational toys. She’d even pictured the expensive stroller she’d push through the mall. But here she sat, with barely enough money to ride the bus and the very real possibility of having to apply for welfare so she could feed and care for her child. Unless, of course, she gave in to the Prescotts’ demands. Not fair! she thought sullenly. This is so not fair.