“What the fuck did you tell them?”
The door banged open sometime later, and there was Jill, red-faced, furious, yelling already, with Daniel Davison in tow and corner cop who closed the door with a pointed look—at whom I wasn’t sure—behind us all.
“What the fuck did you tell them?” I said wearily, exhausted already.
“I told them the truth. I told them you were lying and trying to keep us from our baby.” At first I took this “our” to mean our, hers and mine, but then I realized she meant “our,” hers and Daniel’s. She was ranting in paragraphs. It was hard to keep up.
“They said would Janey want to kidnap the baby, and I said you might. They said would she have given him something to make him sick, and I said you might. They said were you acting strange lately, and I said you were. They said could I think of any reason you would want to keep us from our baby, and I said yes, I could think of lots of reasons. I told them you were experiencing unnatural attachment and maternal delusions and you were angry at the father and you wanted to hurt me. They said were you alone with the baby in the last twenty-four hours, and I said you were. They said did I think you would poison Atlas or give him something to make him sick on purpose like to get attention or control or something, and I said yes I thought you might.”
“Is that because you’re insane or just evil?” I asked, mock-mild, but unable to pull it off so hard was I shaking. I couldn’t even meet her gaze let alone stand.
“I don’t know, Janey. Which are you? What was I supposed to say? Jason called me and said he’d been trying for hours. Atlas is in the ER; he won’t wake up; no one knows why. We rush over there, but they won’t let us back there to see him because it’s immediate family only, and his mother’s already with him. I said I’m his mother, and they wouldn’t believe me. Even Jason vouched for me, but they wouldn’t let me back there. When I went home and got the birth certificate, that’s when they started asking questions. And I’m thinking when I left he was fine, and now he’s in the ER with you. What was I supposed to think?”
“We didn’t bring up poison or purposely making him sick,” Daniel put in more gently, half embarrassed, half scolding me, “but once they did, it scared us. We don’t understand how he could have gotten so sick so quickly. You promise to take good care of him, but then all of a sudden he’s in the hospital, and we can’t even see him.” There was a pause during which I imagined backwards cop and corner cop behind the two-way glass calling for backup from the irony cops under whose jurisdiction this clearly fell. “If you gave him something, Janey, please, please tell us now so we’ll have more time. The tox screens will save him anyway, but it would be better—for everyone—if you told us right away.”
It was hard to know where to start. I lacked enough energy for screaming anger and bred-in-the-bone fury and caustic silence and quiet freezing truth all, so I had to choose among them. I do not like yelling. I do not like confrontation. I tried to choke back everything. And what came out instead was tears. It was either going to be tears or laughter I guess. The latter secures dignity and the aura of high ground. But there was already too much lost there.
“You actually think I would try to make him sick?” I spat. I just wanted to be clear.
“We don’t know.”
“I didn’t poison Atlas, you assholes.”
“Why is he sick then?”
“I don’t know. And neither do you. And neither do the doctors at the hospital. They did an initial tox screen that turned up nothing. They’re running more tests. No one there seemed to think he was poisoned.”
“Then why did we get a panicked call from Jason that Atlas is in the hospital and had a seizure?”
“Well, he tried me, but there’s no cell reception in the stacks. Katie’s in Portland. So I guess that left you, a poor choice at best, but you are his parents as you keep pointing out. I imagine he was desperate because he’d been trying you for hours, but no one was picking up. Where were you guys? You both have cell phones. Truly concerned parents keep their cell phones on when they leave their kid with a babysitter.”
“You were supposed to be with him. Not Jason. We thought we could trust you,” said Daniel.
“Well, Dan, that’s not actually true.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “You didn’t think anything. You left before this child was even born. You didn’t make arrangements for his care or for anything else. You have no idea who was supposed to be with Atlas this morning. You just assumed someone was doing it. You’ve never laid eyes on this child. You only decided to give a crap at all about twenty minutes ago. So in your case, this isn’t a matter of thinking or a matter of trust.
“And as for you, Jill, no, I wasn’t supposed to be with him. You were. I teach in the morning, every morning, since the end of May. Katie’s in Portland, not that she’s scheduled for weekday mornings either, so we had to call Jason to stay with Atlas this morning when you didn’t show up. I said sure I would take Atlas yesterday, even though it wasn’t my day, and Jason said sure he would cancel his appointment this morning, even though he needed to meet with his advisor. Even though I’m completely wasted because I’ve spent the last week in Vancouver with my sick grandmother. Even though I am totally exhausted and totally behind. Even though Jason and Lucas have a million things to do to get ready for their baby. But you wouldn’t know about any of that. Because you don’t know anything about taking care of a baby—other people do it for you. And because you don’t know anything about anyone else’s life because it doesn’t matter because it isn’t yours.”
“We have a babysitting schedule. That doesn’t mean Atlas is yours.”
“Right, I can see where you need a babysitter. I was teaching; Katie’s getting married; Jason is having his own child. Where were you?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Where were you?”
“She stayed overnight at my place. And I took the day off,” said Daniel. “We have a lot to work out, a lot to talk about, a lot of catching up to do.” His tone was serious—very serious actually, like their needing time to talk was the most important thing in the world—but I caught the twitch of a flicker of a suppressed smile that told me why they weren’t answering the phone for so long this afternoon.
“Why did you say you were his mother?” asked Jill.
“I didn’t want him to be alone,” I said. “And otherwise they wouldn’t let me back.”
“There’s a reason for that,” she said.
“Really? What is it?”
“We know you love him, Janey. We let you take care of him. We let you be with him. We’re grateful for your help, but he’s not yours.” Jill had toned it down a little, moved from furious-yelling to furious-condescending. She was just as angry but far, far more frustrating this way. In my mind, I picked up one of the chairs and threw it across the room at her, perhaps through the two-way window. I saw shatterproof glass rain down all over the irony cops who would surely conclude, having witnessed this scene, that I was free to take Atlas home and leave, just the two of us, for whatever faraway place I preferred.
“Jill,” I said, sighing, “I am not your babysitter. I am not your nanny. I am not your maid or your cook or your housekeeper. I am your family and I am your friend, but you aren’t being mine. I have taken care of Atlas like a son, and you know it. I have been there more than you have. I have rearranged my life to make this work just as much as you have. I have not complained that I put in more time and more care and more money than his parents. I stood by when Daniel left, and I stand here while he tries to decide whether or not he wants to come back. I have been the responsible one here. So I don’t care who this boy came out of—he’s mine.” At this point, I would have walked out of the room—it was a good exit line, and besides, I was done having this conversation—except I was still under arrest, so I couldn’t do anything but sit there.
Backwards and corner cop came in then.
“The hospital called. You should get over there.” You? Who?
“They determined there’s no foul play. You’re all free to go.”
“What is it?” I said.
“I’m not a doctor, ma’am. They can answer all your questions when you get there. We appreciate your cooperation, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience.”