‘Sounds to me like she doesn’t trust you with her kid,’ said Talia.
‘Well, you’re wrong,’ said Shelby. ‘Now, if you don’t mind.’
‘I have to get back to work anyway. I don’t know why I wasted my lunch hour coming here,’ said Talia. ‘I should have known better.’
I don’t know why you came here either, Shelby thought. She picked up her bag from the grey suede chair. ‘I’ll walk you out,’ she said.
Chloe was standing outside her tidy, gray stucco-front row house when Shelby arrived. She made a point of looking at her watch. Chloe had asked Shelby to be there promptly, so that she could accompany Chloe to pick up Jeremy at his preschool. That way, Shelby would know how to get there in the week that Chloe and Rob were away on their cruise. Shelby glanced at the dashboard clock. The unexpected visit from Talia had thrown her off a little bit. And the city traffic had been heavy from her apartment in Society Hill to the gentrifying blue-collar neighborhood across the river where Chloe and Rob lived. She had cut it close, but she was not late.
Shelby felt the usual pangs of love and anxiety as she gazed at her daughter’s serious expression. Chloe had long hair that waved around her oval, freckled face. She was lean from years of religiously eating healthy foods and daily jogging. She was dressed in her nurse’s scrubs, which she wore for her part-time job in an ob-gyn’s office. At twenty-four, Chloe was the image of her father, Steve, a customer Shelby met at a South Street coffee house when she worked as a barista her last year of high school. Shelby and Steve were married on Valentine’s Day at City Hall, along with about thirty other couples who wanted a Valentine’s wedding. Steve left soon thereafter, despite the fact that Shelby was pregnant.
When she learned of Shelby’s pregnancy, Shelby’s mother, Estelle, counseled abortion. When Shelby refused, Estelle washed her hands of her middle child, and her grandchild. Shelby threw herself into night school and hard work to provide for her daughter. Eventually, she gained degrees, promotions, and a handsome salary. Once, Shelby overheard Chloe’s best friend, Franny, whose parents rented them the rooms over their South Philly pizzeria and often minded Chloe after school, ask why they could never play at Chloe’s apartment. Chloe explained to Franny that her mother was never home because she would rather go to work. Even now, the memory of those words was painful. ‘That’s not true! That’s not fair!’ Shelby had wanted to cry out. But what was the use of protesting? The only thing that mattered was that her child saw her life that way. As the years passed, and Shelby managed to save enough money to move them out of that rough neighborhood, Chloe began to understand why her mother worked so hard. But the pain of that childish assessment lingered in Shelby’s heart.
Shelby found a parking space down the block, got out and stretched. She walked back to her daughter and held out her arms. Chloe gave her a quick, fierce hug. Then she pulled away. ‘We have to go,’ Chloe said.
‘I hope I’m not late,’ said Shelby. ‘Talia stopped by.’
Chloe rolled her eyes. Talia had gone about her life as if her niece did not exist. Her indifference bordered on cruelty. ‘What did she want?’ Chloe asked.
‘She wanted to guilt-trip me about my mother,’ said Shelby. ‘What else?’
‘Did she have any luck?’ Chloe asked.
‘What do you think?’ Shelby asked. ‘Hey, honey, I need to run inside and powder my nose.’
‘What about Jeremy?’
‘It will only take one minute,’ said Shelby.
‘He’ll think I forgot about him,’ said Chloe.
Shelby recognized the anxiety in Chloe’s eyes. Chloe tried to be a perfect mother. She had cooked and pureed Jeremy’s baby food from organic vegetables, rushed him to the doctor if he so much as turned pale, and was a housekeeper whose neatness bordered on obsession. She only worked part time at the medical practice so that Jeremy wouldn’t have to spend his time in day care. ‘No honey, we’ll be there in plenty of time. He’ll be OK. Can you let me in?’ she said.
Chloe gave a small sigh and led the way back to the front door. It was a narrow, low-ceilinged house which, along with its neighbors, had been built on the hillside that rose above the Main Street of Manayunk. This part of the city,