On Tuesday a week later, when the school lets out across the street, Nico knocks on my door to ask me if I can come over later for dinner.
“My mom invited a friend who she thinks can help you.” He lowers his voice so only I can hear. “She’s cool. An attorney and a marathon runner.”
“At the same time?”
He laughs. “Probably, knowing her.”
I like that the woman who might be my attorney runs marathons. It means that she has endurance. That she knows how to keep pushing.
It takes a little bit of persuading to get my parents to let me go because it’s a school night, but once I explain that my essay for tomorrow is already written, and I can finish the rest of my homework before Nico comes back to pick me up at six, they agree.
A few hours later, Nico and I walk through the front door of his house and into the savory smells of basil and garlic. We find Mrs. Noble and her friend standing at the kitchen island, glasses of wine and a bowl of salad in front of them, and pots bubbling on the stove behind them as they chat animatedly. When her friend turns, I recognize her immediately.
The woman from the farmers market. Business suit. Flip-flops. Though tonight her feet are bare, her flip-flops probably left by the front door.
“Oh, good, you’re here!” Mrs. Noble greets us enthusiastically. “Juniper, I want you to meet my friend Laurel Ward. She is smart and fabulous, and Nico and I told her all about you.”
Ms. Ward reaches her hand out to shake mine as Nico’s mom crosses to the stove to pull the pot of pasta from the burner and drain it in the sink. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Juniper. Call me Laurel, please.”
I shake her hand. “I’ve actually seen you before. I sell herbs at the farmers market … or I used to.” I see Kaylakaye and her clipboard. “You bought mint from me. For your tea.”
“Oh, yes! You must have a way with remembering faces. Very impressive.” I don’t tell her it’s the business suit and the flip-flops, not her face, that I remember.
“I heard you run marathons.”
“I do when my toes aren’t broken.”
I glance at her feet, finally close enough to notice the way her three middle toes are gathered together with clear medical tape. “So that’s what the flip-flops are all about.”
She laughs. “You saw that, huh? I try to wear them with confidence, hoping people won’t notice because I look like I’m okay with it.”
“I noticed. But only because I thought it was pretty cool.”
“I’m glad you think so, but don’t worry, I’m just about done with them. The doctor says I’m ready to go back to regular shoes during the workday.” She wiggles her toes. “Just giving them some room to breathe tonight.”
“Laurel will be totes profesh,” Nico says, reaching into the salad to pop a carrot slice into his mouth. His mom slaps his hand away, then turns to toss the pasta with the sauce still simmering on the stovetop.
“Well, phew. Because you know how I insist on totes profesh. I mean, look at me.” I strike a runway model pose in my jeans with the ripped knees and my faded hoodie.
Laurel smiles. “We’ll get along just fine.”
“Shall we?” Mrs. Noble says, and we all follow her to the dining room.
Nico’s mom grabs the pasta. I carry the garlic bread and Nico follows me to the table with the salad and tongs.
We talk about film club and this weekend’s football semifinal. It’s an away game, which is probably for the better. I don’t exactly want to see Teddy and Avery again.
It isn’t until the table is cleared and Nico and his mom are cleaning up in the kitchen, rinsing plates and utensils before loading them into the dishwasher, that Laurel asks me to tell her more about why I might need a lawyer.
“I saw a doctor who told me to hire a good attorney if I wanted to be vaccinated. He was only half-serious,” I explain.
“That’s nothing to joke about.” She leans forward on her elbows. “We should go see that doctor together.”
“Do you think we can convince him to give me my shots if you’re there?”
“It’s worth a try. It’s more likely I’ll gather the information I’d need for filing a petition on your behalf.”
“Petition?” I remember Kaylakaye had a petition at the farmers market. I knot my fingers together. “Would it need to have five hundred signatures?”
She waves her hand. “No. It would only be between you and your parents. We’d submit a request to the court to give you permission to make your own medical decisions.”
“I like how that sounds.”
“How about you take me through what happened from when you contracted the measles until now.”
I nod, lean back in my chair, and tell her everything while Nico bangs around in the kitchen.
Laurel listens sympathetically. She hears me and my story.
“It must be frustrating to be judged for your parents’ decisions. For choices you’ve had no control over, especially when they affect innocent people like a baby.”
“I want control.” I grip the edge of the table. “I should be able to decide what happens to my body. It’s mine.”
“Exactly. That’s our argument. Bodily autonomy.”
“Yes.” The weight in my chest lifts because Laurel really gets it.
“We’re talking about real change here, Juniper.”
“I saw another attorney in town. He told me that what I want to do is impossible. He suggested emancipation, which I can’t afford. I don’t have a job, so I can’t get my own apartment. And I don’t want to move out of my house anyway.”
She harrumphs, and I can almost hear her muttering, Silly man under her breath. Instead she says, “It sounds like he doesn’t have any confidence in himself. That’s the difference here. I do.”
“He made it seem impossible.”
She pats both hands on the table. “Let’s make the impossible possible together, shall we?”
“All these people signed a petition to kick us out of the farmers market. It’s going to break my parents when they find out I’m signing one, too.”
“We’ll start with your doctor. Maybe it won’t even have to go that far. I’d like to try to make it as quick and painless as possible.”
“I don’t have an actual doctor. I’ve only seen Dr. Villapando at the urgent care clinic. We moved here in May, and it’s taking my mom a while to find someone who’s willing to see unvaccinated patients.” I scratch at my scalp in irritation.
“Can you go with me to see Dr. Villapando tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. As soon as possible.” But then I remember. “How much is this going to cost, though? I don’t think I can afford you.”
“Nico didn’t tell you? I’m working pro bono here. This case is important. I want to take it on. So what do you say? See you at the clinic at three tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there.”
Nico shows up in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, patting his hands dry on a dish towel. “Sounds like you have a plan.”
“A start anyway.”
“One step at a time,” Laurel says.
“Cool,” Nico says.
His mom walks in with the bottle of wine Laurel and she had been sharing in the kitchen, and Laurel holds her glass out for a refill.
“Well, I’m sure you two have a movie or something to watch,” Mrs. Noble says.
Laurel turns to me. “Juniper, I’m honored you came to me.”
“I’m honored you listened.”
I want to hug her. Because she’s the first person who has made me believe I have a fighting chance. She has made me trust there are other people out there who believe a sixteen-year-old girl has the right to make decisions about her own body.