“Where?”
“Do I have to go away, too?”
“No, sweetheart. No one is going away. Wyatt had to go to school, that’s all. He’s coming back.”
“When is school over?”
“In a day or two.”
“Can we pick him up at the bus?”
“He’s not on a bus. It’s sleep-away school.”
“No-o-o-o.” Leila started to cry.
The more Sarah tried to explain, the worse it got. She finally gave up with a “Be patient.”
When he did show up, Leila ignored him.
“Hey, hokey-pokey girl. Did you miss me?” He bent down to give her a high five and Leila turned on him. “No.”
Wyatt looked at Sarah for explanation.
“She thought you had gone away for good.”
“Hey, goofball. I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”
Leila looked over her shoulder at him. “Promise-promise?”
“Hokey-pokey promise.”
She reached out her arms, and he picked her up, shooting a What just happened? look toward Sarah.
Sarah just breathed a sigh of relief.
But as the next Saturday came around, Leila became sullen again; cried at the smallest sound, woke with nightmares. She complained that she was hungry, but then wouldn’t eat. Refused to get dressed. Everything was a battle of wills. An emotional roller coaster.
Every time she passed the wall calendar, she slowed down, looked, but didn’t ask. They both knew there would be another visit.
Sarah began to hate the thing. What had begun over a year ago as a fun way to remember activities had turned into a dreaded enemy. Once Carmen’s appeal was—hopefully—denied, Sarah would tear the damn thing off the wall.
And if instead, it reversed the adoption procedure, Sarah would go to plan B. Always have a plan B. Nonie had taught her that. And Sarah had an alternate plan, in spite of what Wyatt said.
ON THE FOLLOWING Saturday morning, Danny Noyes picked Leila up and she went without a word. Came back hours later, the same way. Danny just shrugged and left.
The silence lasted until Wyatt knocked on the door a while later. Sarah went to answer it.
“You look dragged out,” he said and kissed her.
From behind them, Sarah heard Leila scream. She whirled around. “What?”
But no catastrophe had occurred. Leila stood in the middle of the floor, fists clenched, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Stop it!” Sarah demanded. She felt at the end of her strength. She didn’t know how she could keep this up. How either of them could.
“Enough already,” Wyatt said and stepped toward Leila. He picked her up, and she lashed out hitting and kicking.
He put her down; tried to soothe her, kid with her, distract her, but it only made things worse. “I don’t get it. What did I do?”
Sarah couldn’t even begin to explain that it had nothing to do with him. She just didn’t have the energy. She felt like kicking and screaming herself.
“I think you better go,” Sarah managed, holding on to tears of frustration and sympathy for Wyatt who was so good and was being treated abominably.
He hesitated, but on a new spate of screeches, he walked past Sarah and out the door.
Leila stopped screeching immediately. Just frowned at Sarah.
Sarah frowned back. “Satisfied with yourself? He’s gone.” And this time he might just be gone for good.
That set Leila off again, Sarah snatched her up and carried her kicking and screaming to her room. Dropped her on the bed.
She kicked out and screamed the two bad words she’d learned at Carmen’s at the top of her lungs. “Stay right there until you can calm yourself.” Sarah shut her in her room.
At the first crash, she knew she’d made a mistake. She opened the door to find Leila sitting on the floor surrounded by books. She’d knocked all of them off the shelf. Sarah picked her up and carried her into the hallway where there was nothing that she could break and nothing to hurt her. Sarah sat her down on the floor and told her to stay, then sat at the kitchen table and listened.
When she tiptoed out a while later, she found Leila asleep on the floor and Sarah gave into her tears.
ON MONDAY MORNING, Sarah didn’t attempt to send Leila to school. Or the next day. She finally called the teacher and told her she was withdrawing her two weeks early.
“Having a hard time?” Mrs. Lester asked.
“Really bad,” Sarah confessed.
“Just love her, Sarah, if you can. We’ll still be here if you need us before pre-kindergarten. And keep in touch.”
“Thank you. You’ve been . . . Thank you.” And Sarah hung up.
Sarah walked around on eggshells. Karen told her just to wait out the storm. One day they would look back on this and hardly remember the pain. Sarah doubted it, but she tried to believe it. Still she called Leila’s therapist and made an emergency appointment.
DURING THE NEXT few days, the tantrums alternated with bouts of sullenness and quiet. Sarah couldn’t decide which was worse, the little girl who was lashing out her fear and anger, or the one who seemed like she had stopped caring.
Karen sent Jenny over, but Leila didn’t want anything to do with her. And Jenny went home in tears. She didn’t come again.
“She’s very upset,” Karen explained. “What happened?”
“I’m sorry. So sorry.”
“Sarah, it is what it is. Sometimes we adults just have to hunker in and weather the worst of it.”
So Sarah hunkered in and tried her best.
Wyatt called but she didn’t answer, and he didn’t leave a voice mail. He came to the door, but as soon as he knocked Leila started crying again. As soon as he left, she returned to silence.
Sarah began to wonder if it would ever be normal, their life together. Or whether Leila was already too damaged to ever learn to trust and love.
Then she remembered herself. She hadn’t made Sam’s life easy. She didn’t throw tantrums, but she could be pretty cruel verbally. She defied him, insulted him, tried to make him send her away so that she could say, See, nobody wants me, not even you.
But he wouldn’t say it. He’d just smiled that wise sometimes sad smile and loved her. Took her out to look at the stars where she would forget to be tough. One night while they were standing on the beach, they saw a meteor shower, like a quick quiet fireworks display.
And she forgot to want to run away, to have the world prove what she already knew: that she wasn’t lovable. And over the years she’d forgotten, truly forgotten, that she was unworthy. She accepted his love. And learned in her way to return it.
And while he was alive, she lived with trust, believed that life was good. And when he died, she mourned as she didn’t think she could mourn for another human being. And when she was done, she vowed to give to another child what Sam had given to her.
And it was such a mess.
I’m failing, Sam. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I’m cut out for this unconditional love thing. I want to rest, to be able to relax just for a minute and I can’t. Maybe I can’t do this after all.
And if she couldn’t, she’d be throwing his gift back in his face.
Sarah’s work fell behind, and Alice had to call several clients and tell them that a family emergency had arisen and it had delayed their repairs. Most were understanding.
Alice was sympathetic. “You poor thing. You’re making yourself sick looking after that child.”
And Sarah knew she was right. Neither she nor Leila was eating. Sarah could barely force food down. She made Leila meals that she refused to touch. Sarah tried talking to her, promising her that she loved her no matter what, that she’d be her forever mommee, no matter what.
But her bright, willful little four-year-old had already learned not to trust. How to strike out before they struck you. And it broke Sarah’s heart.
WHEN SATURDAY CAME and the doorbell rang, Sarah was almost relieved. She handed a sull
en Leila off to Danny with barely a word. He frowned at her. “Are you okay?”
She just shrugged. He probably thought she was on drugs.
“She’ll be back at five,” he said with forced enthusiasm.
“Love you, sunshine,” Sarah managed and closed the door.
Seven hours of peace. Sarah threw herself on the couch, curled herself around a pillow, and stayed that way.
She was once and truly effed up. She’d been a fool to think she could do something useful, helpful, loving on her own. She’d screwed it up. She’d dangled hope in front of a defenseless child and now she couldn’t stop it being snatched away. Better not to have hoped at all.
At five there was a knock on the door. Sarah had washed her face, put her cell phone in her pocket, ready to cope when Danny returned with Leila and document any bruises or skinned knees. But she wasn’t prepared for what waited for her on the other side of the door.
Danny stood holding Leila straight out in front of him. Her face was tear streaked and she was whimpering. She was also filthy and reeked of urine, Her shorts were wet and stained brown.
Sarah stared, not taking in what she was seeing. Leila who she had sent off clean and neat was being returned to her wearing a dirty diaper. She hadn’t worn diapers in over a year.
For an eternity Leila just dangled there between them, limp as a rag doll. Then Danny pushed her toward Sarah.
Sarah took her, but as she held her Leila screamed. No wonder, she had obviously been left in this foul state for hours. Her skin was probably raw from the uric acid and whatever else.
“What happened?” she asked Danny through gritted teeth. If she hadn’t been in a hurry to get Leila cleaned up, she would have hit him.
“I don’t know, they said she got sick and handed her to me.”
“They? Who the hell is they?” Sarah used every piece of control not to yell the words at him.
“This guy DeShawn; I think she called him.”
Leila wailed and wriggled to get down.
“This ends. Now.”
Danny nodded jerkily. “I’m going to make my report. I think you were right not to want unsupervised visits.”
“Too late now.” Sarah slammed the door in his face. “Come on, baby, let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Leila bad,” she whined.
“No, sweetheart. Leila’s my precious girl. My forever girl.” And if I ever see Carmen again, I’ll kill her with my bare hands.
Sarah took Leila into the bathroom and set her on her feet, while she knelt and turned on the water.
“Tubby time?” she said quietly and smiled at Leila, who was no longer sullen—but the same unresponsive, almost comatose child she’d been when she’d first come to Sarah. All that work and building of trust and the promise of love erased in one damnable day with her mother.
In a just world, this would not be allowed.
She took out her phone. “Selfie,” she said and fired off two shots. Put the phone on the side of the lavatory.
“Okay, let’s get out of these icky clothes.”
Leila just stood there, unmoving as a statue. Didn’t help but didn’t fight as Sarah pulled her T-shirt over her head. Sarah threw it in the corner of the bathroom to be documented.
She pulled her shorts off, and Leila squatted with a cry of pain.
“It’ll be better soon,” Sarah crooned while anger filled her heart to bursting.
The diaper was too small to begin with, probably left over from one of Carmen’s six other children. It had leaked and Leila’s legs were streaked with the overflow.
She took two more photos.
“Tubby time,” Sarah sang again and lifted Leila into the tub, diaper and all. She pulled away the sticky tabs and carefully removed the diaper from between her legs.
Sarah documented the diaper then pulled it off Leila. It was filthy, and Leila’s skin was red from not being changed. Sarah didn’t even pretend to be taking selfies, willing her finger not to shake as she documented the state of Leila’s skin. Turned Leila around and took more photos.
Another quick shot of the diaper, then rolled it up and threw it in the wastebasket; she’d get rid of it later. “Bye, poopy pee pee diaper,” she said in a singsong. “Wave good-bye, Leila.”
Leila just stood there shivering.
Sarah cleaned her off with wipes. Leila made an awful inhaling sound each time the wipe touched her. Sarah fought back tears. “Just a few more minutes and it will be better.” She reached under the sink and got a pail that they used for washing hair and used it to pour water gently over the child’s body.
Leila wouldn’t sit in the water, so Sarah unstopped the tub and let the water run, while she held Leila with one hand and washed with the other.
“Owie, Mommee. Owie.”
“I know, sweetheart. It won’t be much longer.”
Leila burrowed her head in Sarah’s shoulder. Sarah tried to stay calm, emit love and peace, when all she wanted was to strangle the life out of Carmen Delgado.
Finally Leila was clean enough, and Sarah lifted her out of the tub, still clinging to her neck.
She staggered from being on her knees on the hard tile, but held Leila close. “I love you, sweet girl.”
Leila didn’t respond, not with movement or sound.
“I love you to pieces.”
Nothing.
“You’re my sunshine.”
Leila let out an animal cry and clung to her.
Sarah wrapped her in a big fluffy towel, fumbled in the bathroom cabinet for some diaper rash ointment that she’d kept in case of emergencies, and carried her into the bedroom.
She laid Leila on the towel and lifted her feet. Just like when she was a baby. But now she was four, and she shouldn’t have to go through this.
“Owie, Mommee, owie, owie!” She tried to push Sarah’s hand away. But it had to be done.
And by the time Leila was covered in white ointment, they were both crying.
“Okay, done,” Sarah said. Her words vibrated out as shaky as her nerves. She got out Little Mermaid underwear and a matching nightgown.
But when she tried to put it on Leila, she started kicking.
“Diaper. Diaper!”
“Lovey, you’re a big girl; you don’t need a diaper. You’re fine. You’re home now.”
“Diaper! Diaper!” Leila kicked harder. “Diaper!” She choked and started coughing and Sarah became afraid. She picked her up.
“We don’t have any diapers. Remember. You don’t need diapers.”
Leila threw her head back, and Sarah almost dropped her. She began screaming.
Sarah carried her to the closet, to see if maybe there was a diaper somewhere. There wasn’t, nor in the bathroom cabinet. She thought about a towel or a pillowcase but knew it wouldn’t work.
Leila continued to scream and flail until Sarah was afraid to put her down.
She did the one thing she didn’t want to do. She called Wyatt.
At first he didn’t answer and she thought for sure she would go to voice mail.
“Hello.”
She could hear people in the background. “I’m sorry to bother you. But—”
“What do you need, Sarah?”
She couldn’t tell if he cared or if he was exasperated. Leila let out a wail and began screaming “diaper, diaper,” over and over. “I need diapers and I can’t go out for them. She’s out of control. Can you? I hate to ask. But I can’t get out.”
“I’m on my way.” He hung up.
“Okay, baby, Wyatt’s coming.”
“No-o-o-o. You.”
“He’s bringing diapers.”
“Leila bad.”
“Leila’s good. You’re my sunshine.”
Leila grabbed Sarah’s hair with both hands.
Sarah bit back a cry. It startled both of them, and in the momentary confusion, Sarah took both Leila’s hands in hers and held her close.
It was nearly twenty minutes before Wyatt knocked at t
he door. Sarah had stood at the window watching for him, holding Leila until her arms went numb. But when she tried to put her down, she started to cry again.
At least the diaper rash ointment had worked its magic so she was more comfortable.
Sarah opened the door with one hand. Wyatt stood there. “Sorry it took so long, but I was out to dinner, then I couldn’t find any toddler diapers, I hope these are okay.”
He looked at Leila. “Is she sick? What’s going on?”
Sarah didn’t answer; she’d looked beyond him and saw the blonde standing on the sidewalk waiting for him. Caitlyn. Sarah’s heart—what was left of it—crumbled away.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize. You should have told me. I couldn’t think of anyone else.”
Wyatt glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I was glad to be able to help.”
“Well, thank you. I’ll come by the store and pay you tomorrow.”
“Sarah, you don’t have—”
“I’m sorry. Thank you.” She closed the door on him.
Leila had fallen asleep on her shoulder and couldn’t even appreciate the fact that Wyatt had hauled his date out of a restaurant to go look for diapers for someone else’s daughter. It would be laughable if it didn’t hurt so much.
Sarah considered trying to get Leila into bed without the diaper but when she laid her down, she started crying for her diaper again.
So she got one. “Wyatt brought these just for you. But only for tonight. Tomorrow we go back to big-girl pants. Now get into bed.”
Leila grabbed her around the neck.
Sarah lifted her up and sat down in the rocking chair and began to rock, slowly, gently, wondering what tomorrow would bring. Wondering how long she could keep up this constant battle. She began to hum, then to sing, “You are my sunshine.”
Sam had sung it to her, tongue in cheek, when she got upset, angry because she couldn’t fix some part of a clock, or because someone hadn’t treated her nicely. He’d sing it with that twinkle in his eye and it was so hokey—and so filled with love—she couldn’t stay angry. She’d hold on to it as long as she could, and when she couldn’t stay mad a second longer, she’d roll her eyes and give him a punch on the arm. Because she still couldn’t say, you’re my sunshine, too.
Finally she felt Leila’s muscles go slack; she was asleep. But Sarah didn’t relax; she knew that sleep might be ephemeral, and the nightmares might come. And someone, someone, had to sit vigil.
Forever Beach Page 28
