So Much More - Kim Holden Page 0,103

needed our last time together to be special. When I leave today, you’ll never see me again.”

I look up at him. “What about school?”

He shakes his head. “I won’t be there. But we’ll always keep our secret. We won’t tell anyone about our special time together.”

“I’ll never tell no one,” I promise.

He smiles the smile where I can count all his teeth. “Good.”

And then he sets me on the floor, and he gets up and leaves.

And I wonder if he meant what he said and if he won’t be at school tomorrow.

*****

Dan wasn’t at school the next day.

I didn’t see him at lunch or in the hallways between classes.

It makes me sad that he’s gone, ‘cause he’s my only friend.

Just to be sure I stop by the office after school and ask Mrs. Peacock, the school secretary, ‘cause the first day of school she told me if I ever had questions I could always ask her. “Is Dan gone? Did he leave for good?”

She looks confused. “Dan? Dan who, sweetie? Do you know his last name?”

I don’t know his last name, so I shake my head and tell her what I do know. “Dan. He sweeps the cafeteria after we make it dirty at lunchtime.”

Her eyes change like she knows the Dan I’m talking about. “Oh, Dan Crestmoor, the custodian. I’m sorry, sweetie, he no longer works here. He called this morning and said he had a family emergency and his family needs him out of state. His elderly mother is sick. He was moving today.” She’s smiling when she says it, like she don’t know her words are making me sad.

Poor Dan. I’m sad his mama’s sick. I hope he can make it better when he gets there.

*****

Going to school is hard when you’re pregnant. The other kids tease me more than usual. They call me a slut and a whore. I try to ignore ‘em, but it hurts my feelings. I already hear those words enough at home from Mama.

*****

My belly’s getting real big. Mama says my baby girl’s gonna be born soon. Mama also says I’m too young and can’t handle a baby, especially since I ain’t married, so she found a family to be my baby’s new family when she’s born. Adoption she calls it. That makes me sad, but Mama says that’s how it’s gotta be. I haven’t met the new family, but they must be real nice, ‘cause they bought Mama a new car. She says it’s a Toyota Corolla. It’s light blue, her favorite color, and the air conditioning blows real cold. She smiles real big when she drives it. Only it’s the kind of smile that don’t make me happy, and I don’t know why.

You were my hope

present

And then Hope begins the story that I’ve been waiting twenty-two years to hear. “You were born on a hot July day in this room. July thirtieth.”

I clamp my hand over my mouth to muffle my sob. That’s my birthday. The tears blur my vision instantly making Hope only a fuzzy outline in front of me. I tug her hand and urge her into the hallway and back out into the maternity ward reception area before I ask her to continue and tell me everything she remembers. And not to leave anything out.

She takes a seat calmly.

I sit next to her dazed, but alert.

She takes my hand in hers and stares at them in my lap.

And then she tells me about the day I was born. “My tummy had been hurting real bad all afternoon. When Mama came home from work and saw the sheets on my bed underneath me all wet, she took me to the hospital.

“Mama stayed in the room with me while you were born. She sat in a chair across the room. She didn’t look at me the whole time, but I saw her crying.” Hope’s eyes look distant with concentration like she’s lost in the memory, reliving it, recalling every detail.

“The second you were born, the doctor said, ‘It’s a girl,’ and you cried. Your cry was quiet but loud at the same time like you were a tiny kitty on the outside and a lion on the inside. It made me smile, ‘cause I knew you were strong. And I didn’t say it out loud, but I named you Hope ‘cause that’s what I felt. I felt hope.

“You were so tiny, just like a doll, when the nurse laid you on my chest. She smiled at me like she