“Me too. When I get old enough, I’m going to march with those women who want the right to keep their babies and use birth control.” Greta sighed.
“Did you like it?” Janie changed the subject.
“Are we talking about sex?” Greta asked. “Not so much the first time. But later, with another boy, I did. A lot. He kind of knew what to do. The first one wasn’t very good at it.”
“Two boys?” Janie gasped. Ethel Jackson would have dropped down on her knees at the front of the church and prayed for Janie until she starved to death if she found out that her daughter had been with two boys.
“Yep,” Greta said. “The second one is the father of this.” She pointed at her belly. “But he joined the army when I told him I was pregnant. Not that he would have had to do that, because my daddy would have never let me marry him. He might have killed him or had him killed, but Daddy wouldn’t ever let me marry beneath the family name.”
“Did you want to?” Janie asked. “Marry him, that is?”
“Not so much,” Greta said.
Janie had never talked so openly with anyone in her entire life about anything. She’d always been the preacher’s daughter, and folks didn’t discuss that kind of thing in her world. Girls like Greta were considered wild—sleeping with two different boys and then admitting it. Didn’t matter how rich they were; good girls like Janie didn’t associate with them.
“What was your baby’s father like?” Greta asked.
“He had dark hair and brown eyes, and he came up from Mexico with his dad to work for my grandpa.” Janie sat back down on the bed.
“Holy crap on a cracker,” Greta gasped. “Did you tell your folks about him?”
Janie shrugged. “Mama would’ve killed me graveyard-dead if I didn’t tell her. If it had been a white boy, I might not be here. Daddy would have made him marry me. I’m glad he wasn’t a white boy from a decent family. I don’t want to be married.” That was the first time she’d admitted she didn’t want to be a wife. Having a man tell her what to do, when to do it, and how to do it didn’t sit well with Janie. Even though her mother ruled the house, in public she put on a submissive face and deferred to her husband. That had confused Janie ever since childhood.
Two men, though, before Greta was married—she could almost hear her mother gasping for air. But it was downright liberating to say that she wanted more out of life than to have to submit to a man’s every whim.
“When you first came in here, I thought you were going to be all shy and backward,” Greta said. “I couldn’t get my last roommate to talk much. She didn’t want to give her baby away, but . . .” She shrugged again. “You’re in the tenth grade?”
“Yes, I am.” Janie had decided in that short time that she liked Greta. “And you’re in the eleventh? Daddy said I’ll have school here.”
“That’s right—we’ll be in the same room together,” Greta said. “We go from breakfast to the classroom and then to lunch. After that we come back here to do our homework. From three to five we can go to the game room if we want, and then there’s supper. Saturday, we do laundry. Sunday is chapel and boredom.”
Just like prison, Janie thought.
But at least you’ve got someone to talk to, and that makes things so much better, the voice in her head said.
Amen, Janie thought.
Greta went into labor on Valentine’s Day. Janie never saw her again. The very next day, a new roommate showed up—a short blonde-haired girl who was hard as nails and would be staying in the maternity home for six months. She took her things out of paper grocery bags and tossed them into the bottom two drawers with no respect for organization. She flopped down on the bed and laced her fingers over her stomach.
“I’m Elizabeth. I’m seventeen, and this is my second trip to this place. How long have you been here?”
Janie pulled out the chair to her desk and eased down into it. “I’m Janie, and I’ve been here since Christmas. You’ve really been here before?”
“Two years ago,” Elizabeth said. “When are you due? You look like you’re having a baby elephant.”
Janie raised her eyebrows. “I feel like I’m havin’ one, too. I’m due at the end