by Darlene Ryan
Saving Grace
Darlene Ryan
orca soundings
Copyright © 2006 Darlene Ryan
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Ryan, Darlene, 1958-
Saving Grace / Darlene Ryan
(Orca soundings)
ISBN 1-55143-668-X (bound) ISBN 1-55143-508-X (pbk.)
I. Title. II Series.
PS8635.Y35S29 2006 jC813’.6 C2006-903257-2
Summary: Evie is determined to care for her baby—even if
it means kidnapping her.
First published in the United States, 2006
Library of Congress Control Number: 2006928468
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Cover design: Lynn O’Rourke
Cover photography: Getty Images
Orca Book Publishers Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 5626 Station B PO Box 468
Victoria, BC Canada Custer, WA USA
V8R 6S4 98240-0468
www.orcabook.com
Printed and bound in Canada
09 08 07 06 • 5 4 3 2 1
For Judy
Chapter One
I ran across the bare front yard. What kind of home for a kid didn’t even have any grass? I shoved the car seat onto the front seat of the truck and jumped in.
“Go!” I yelled at Justin.
He stared at me with his mouth hanging open. “Jesus, Evie,” he said. “What the hell did you do?”
“Will you just drive? Come on. Move the damn truck. Go!”
“Go where?”
I leaned across the baby seat and smacked his arm. “I don’t care. Just get us out of here now.”
Finally Justin put the truck in gear and pulled away from the curb. I frigged with the seat belt, trying to thread it through the bottom part of the car seat. The baby was still asleep.
I got the belt buckled, sat back and fastened my own. We got to the stop sign where the road from the subdivision crossed the old highway. “That way,” I said, pointing to the right.
Justin looked over at me. Then he looked at the baby. But he turned and started up the old river road. “You said you just wanted to see her,” he said.
“So I lied.”
“Evie, you can’t just take someone else’s kid.”
I reached into the car seat and stroked the baby’s cheek with one finger. It was the softest thing I had ever felt. Bits of dark hair, the same color as mine, stuck out from under her pink hat. “I didn’t steal someone else’s kid, Justin,” I said. “She’s mine and I’m keeping her.”
Justin pulled one hand back through his own hair. “Dammit,” he muttered.
Okay, so he was kind of pissed. But he’d change his mind. He’d see that this was the right thing to do. And anyway, I knew how to get around Justin.
I looked down at the baby again. My baby. Not the Hansens’. They weren’t even good parents. I knew because I’d been watching that house for almost two weeks. They left her with a babysitter all day. Okay, so she was Mr. Hansen’s mother, but still. They wanted a baby so much, that’s what they’d said on their profile, but then they didn’t even spend any time with her. And there weren’t any other little babies around there for her to play with when she got bigger, just a big empty lot on one side of that place and a house that had been abandoned, half built, on the other.
That half-finished house turned out to be good for me because I could watch my baby from there but no one could see me. It wasn’t really like I was trying to hide. I just hadn’t figured out what I was going to do and I didn’t want people bugging me.
At first the only thing I’d wanted to do was see my baby, you know, make sure she was okay. I’d only gotten to see her once after she was born because my dad said it would be easier that way. When we got home from the hospital he’d said, “It’s done now. Put it out of your head.” It was like he didn’t realize I had just given up my own flesh and blood. I didn’t even say anything. I just walked away and went to my room and shut the door. My insides hurt, ached, and I thought that was just from having her, from pushing and all, but that feeling never went away. I couldn’t just “put it out of my head.” Finally I knew I had to see for myself that my baby was all right.
My dad had put all the adoption papers in that metal box he kept in the back of his closet. And I knew where he hid the key—in his sock drawer. Once I knew the Hansens’ full names it was easy to go online at the library and find their address. So the next morning I cut school and hitched out there. I took a clipboard. I was going to go to the door and pretend I was doing a survey, but then when I saw the empty house next door, with no one working in it, I figured why not just watch for a while.
My mom liked to go bird-watching. She had a great big book all about birds, and she used to let me look at the pictures. After she died, Dad put all her stuff in boxes in the basement. I had to go through five boxes to find her binoculars. I figured she wouldn’t mind me using them to check on her granddaughter.
And that’s all I was going to do—just watch my baby. But the more I watched, the more I could see she needed me. In the end I knew I had to do something because a baby needs to be with her mother. And it was easy, which just proves they weren’t good parents, because instead of me it could have been some weirdo who walked away with her.
Every time Mr. Hansen’s mother came back from somewhere, she’d put the baby in her car seat on the deck while she carried stuff in—groceries and dry-cleaning and stuff. What kind of a grandmother was she, leaving the baby out there like that? My mom would never have done that with her granddaughter.
All I had to do was wait by the corner of the house. I did lie to Justin. I told him I just wanted to look in a window and see her. It was easier than getting into a long explanation beforehand. I knew once he’d spent some time with his daughter he’d see that the three of us were meant to be a family.
Chapter Two
I glanced at Justin. He must have felt me looking at him. “I thought this was all decided,” he said. He didn’t take his eyes off the road.
“I never decided anything,” I said. “My father did. He said, ‘Just because you were stupid enough to get yourself pregnant doesn’t mean you’re going to ruin the rest of your life.’ He’s the one who called the social worker. He’s the one who went through all the files on the people she picked out. He decided on the Hansens. Not me.”
Justin shrugged. “I thought they seemed nice.”
“Yeah, well they’re not Brianna’s real parents. She should be with her real mother. Me.”
“Brianna? I thought her name was Grace or something like that.”
“Her name is Brianna now. Grace is an old-lady name.”
“So now what?” Justin said. “Do you have some kind of plan or are we just going to drive around forever?”
I didn’t like the snarky sound in his voice.
“Of course I have a plan,” I said. “You think I’m stupid? We’re going to Montreal. Why do you think I told you to turn right back there?”
“I’m not driving all the way to Montreal,” Justin said.
“Well, we can’t exactly stay around here, can we?” I said. Sometimes he
was so stunned.
“Yeah, but why Montreal?”
“Because it’s a big place. No one will find us there.”
“All you told me was you wanted to see her. You didn’t say anything about taking her, about going to Montreal.”
I reached over and squeezed his leg. “I’m sorry, okay? I just didn’t know if you’d help me if I told you what I was going to do.”
“I wouldn’t have.”
“See? That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
Justin made a growling sound in the back of his throat. He reached for the radio. I grabbed his hand. “No, you can’t put that on,” I said. “You’ll wake the baby.”
Justin yanked his hand away and held it up between us. “Don’t talk to me, Evie,” he said.
That was fine with me. We drove in silence for a while, just the headlights of the truck shining through the darkness. Then I heard a whimper from the car seat. The baby’s little face was twisted into a frown and she was waving her arms, her two tiny hands clenched into fists. I leaned over to tuck the blanket around her a bit better, but she started crying. For a little baby she was loud.
The truck zigzagged on the road. “Christ, Evie,” Justin said. “Do something. I almost went in the ditch.”
“She’s just hungry,” I said. I reached for my backpack on the floor. I’d brought everything I figured Brianna would need—bottles, diapers, blankets. I gave the bottle of formula a shake and took the cap off. “Here, sweetie,” I said, putting the nipple in her mouth. She sucked on it for a minute, then made a sour face and spit the nipple back out again, crying even louder than before.
“Why doesn’t she want it? ” Justin said.
“I don’t know,” I snapped. “Maybe she’s not hungry. Maybe her diaper’s wet or something.” I slid my hand partway under Brianna’s backside. Her sleeper thingy didn’t feel wet, and the diaper didn’t seem very squishy. I stuck the bottle in her open mouth again. She barely drank any before she spit it out, and she turned her face away when I tried again. And she kept on doing that. She’d take maybe one drink and then spit out the nipple and cry again. Over and over.
Chapter Three
“Justin, you have to pull over,” I said finally. He didn’t hear me. I leaned across the seat and whacked his arm with the back of my hand. “Pull over,” I said again.
“What for?”
“I wanna burp her.”
“So? Do it.”
“I have to take her out of the seat, asshole,” I said, shouting so he’d hear me over Brianna’s crying. “Just pull over.”
Justin puffed out his cheeks and then let out a breath. “Fine,” he grumbled through clenched teeth. He slowed down, pulled over onto the gravel side of the road and put the truck in park. Then he turned off the ignition, grabbed the keys and got out. I heard him swearing under his breath.
Brianna was still hollering. Her face was all red and wrinkly and her eyes were squeezed shut. Geez, how could someone so small make so much noise? The sound made my stomach into a big, hard knot.
I lifted her out of the seat. She was heavier than I’d thought and hard to hold with her arms and legs going all over the place. She hadn’t taken very much of the bottle, but I knew she had to be burped anyway.
When I’d decided that Brianna needed to be with me, I’d gone to the library and gotten the biggest book on babies I could find. And I’d read it from one end to the other. I had taken a babysitting class at the Y, but that was three years ago. And I hadn’t paid attention to everything. It had been my dad’s idea for me to go in the first place, so I could earn my own money instead of him always having to give me an allowance.
“Shush, shush,” I said. I held Brianna up against my shoulder the way they’d showed us in the class. Between what I remembered and the book, I knew a lot about babies. I rubbed Brianna’s back as she twisted and squirmed, but she wouldn’t burp. She coughed a couple of times. She even tried to climb up over my shoulder. Mostly she cried. And I wanted to cry too. “Please burp,” I whispered against her ear.
I could hear Justin pacing behind the truck. After a couple of minutes he came and opened the driver’s door. “Can’t you get her to stop?” he asked.
“Shut up,” I said.
Justin looked out the windshield and then back at me. “This was a mistake, Evie. We have to go back.”
“No!” My heart started beating so hard it seemed like I could hear it. “I’m not going back.” I wrapped both arms tightly around Brianna. “I’m not giving her up again. I won’t do it.” The baby started hollering even louder.
“Geez, you’re going to squish her,” Justin said. “You’re holding her too tight. Even I know that.”
I loosened my grip a little. “The only place I’m going is Montreal. Nobody is taking my baby from me.” I stared hard at him so he’d know how serious I was.
“Christ!” he said finally. He slammed the door and walked away again. I could hear him kicking gravel at the back tires.
I set Brianna back in the car seat. I had little packages of baby cereal, plain or with banana. Maybe she’d eat that. It was the organic kind, so it had to be good for her.
I found the little baby spoon and the bowl with dancing bears on it I’d bought at Wal-Mart and opened the box of banana-flavored cereal. It smelled pretty good.
Mixed up with water, the stuff reminded me of that goopy paste we’d used in art class in about grade five. I offered Brianna a tiny spoonful. She turned her head from one side to the other, trying to get away from the spoon.
“C’mon, sweetie, try it, please.” I pressed the spoon against her mouth—not too hard. She made a face and swatted at it with one hand.
Justin opened the truck door again and leaned against the seat. I couldn’t get Brianna to open her mouth. Then I remembered something my mom used to do when she looked after the kids down our street. I held the spoon up in the air. “Here comes the airplane, flying home to the airport,” I said. I made the spoon do loops in the air. “Ready for landing. Open hangar doors.” It didn’t work. Brianna’s lips stayed pressed together. “Oh c’mon, Brianna,” I said.
Just then Justin leaned over, swiped his finger through the bowl and stuck it in his mouth. He made a face. Then he turned and spit on the ground. “That’s crap!” he said, wiping spit off the side of his mouth with his hand. “I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t eat that crud either.”
I reached over and slapped the side of his head. “You are so stupid,” I yelled. “You put your dirty fingers in her food.”
“Geez, relax, it was just one finger,” Justin said, holding it up. “Don’t get all freaky. It’s not like I spit in the dish or something.”
“Well, I can’t feed her any of that now. It’s all full of germs.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, she wasn’t eating anything.”
“You’re such a pig,” I said. “It’s... it’s...all contaminated.”
“Great. I guess we won’t be needing this anymore then,” Justin said. He grabbed the bowl and whipped it like a Frisbee across the ditch and into the bushes. “We’re going home,” he yelled. “You’re giving that baby back. This is a freakin’ disaster.”
I couldn’t help it. My eyes filled with tears and some of them spilled over and slipped down my face. I tried to wipe them away but they kept on coming. There was a lump in my throat I couldn’t seem to swallow away.
I put one arm across the front of the car seat. “Please, Justin, please,” I begged. “I love her. I can’t give her to someone else. I’m her family. We’re her family. Not them.” My nose was running. I wiped it on the edge of my sleeve. “Please. I can’t go back.” I took a couple of jerky breaths.
Justin’s eyes were angry and his teeth were clenched. He turned away, slammed the door and then kicked the truck a couple of times. I heard him walk away. Then there was nothing but silence.
Chapter Four
Brianna had stopped crying. She’d fallen asleep again. Her head was kind of
slumped forward. Her nose was running too. I found a Kleenex in my pocket and carefully wiped her nose first, then my own. She didn’t wake up. I wiped my face with the edge of my sweater because I didn’t want to waste any more Kleenex.
I started putting the rest of my stuff in my bag. I’d meant what I’d said to Justin. I wasn’t going back. I couldn’t. I opened the truck door on my side and climbed out so I could check around on the floor to make sure I had everything.
Justin grabbed my shoulder from behind. I sucked in a breath and almost fell onto the dirt. “What the hell are you doing, Evie?” he said.
“Let go of me!” I gave him a shove. He stumbled back but kept his balance.
“What are you doing?” he said again.
I glanced inside the truck. Brianna was still asleep. I turned to face Justin. “I’m not going back,” I said, hands jammed in my pockets. “You want to go back? Go ahead. Brianna and I will be fine without you.” My mouth was suddenly so dry my lips were sticking to my teeth. “I’m going to Montreal, Justin. I’m not going home and I’m not giving up my baby.”
“How’re you getting to Montreal?” Justin asked.
“I’ll hitch.”
“With a kid? Yeah, sure. There’s a good idea.” He made a face and rolled his eyes.
“Okay, so I have some money. We’ll take the bus.”
“You don’t even know where there’s a bus stop or what time the next bus is,” Justin said.
“Well, it’s not your problem, is it, Justin?” I said softly.
He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes for a second. “Get in the truck, Evie,” he said at last, not looking at me.
I turned away from him and felt around on the floor. My water bottle had rolled partway underneath the seat. I stuffed the bottle in the side pocket of the backpack.
“Stop,” Justin said, grabbing my arm. “I’m not going to just leave you here.” He let out a breath. “I’ll drive you, okay? I’m sorry. Just get in the truck before she starts crying again.”
