“Well, I held my stomach in till he was back in town. I was living in a campus apartment at UC Berkeley and I guess I thought he’d marry me or something, take me with him. But he said, ‘You’ll have to get your mother to look out for you—I’m on the road all the time.’ So he went with me to my house. And my mother went crazy. She started throwing my stuff out the front door. She told me to get out. She said if I thought she was taking on a baby while I went to college, I was crazy. Everything went out the door, on the lawn.”
“What stuff?” he asked.
“I’d already moved into my campus apartment so there wasn’t a ton of stuff left at my house. But my mother said there wouldn’t be any more money for school or anything. She said I was obviously not smart enough for college anyway. So, we threw it all in Chad’s trunk and backseat and he said he knew a place I could stay.” She made a face. “It was a terrible place, but I guess there was a part of me that felt like I deserved it—I’d made a terrible mistake in judgment. So, I moved into this awful motel in a bad section of town. I went to social services for help and medical benefits and…and Chad went back to his team. I didn’t hear from him for months.”
“Really?” Tom said. “He didn’t call you or anything?”
“He called a few times, but it seemed like he wanted to know about other people, not me. Like a couple of his friends who lived around there. But they weren’t really friends—they were guys he got pot from.” She met his eyes. “Before I found out I was pregnant, which by the way I found out right away, we used to smoke a little pot. That’s something I’m sure you never did…”
Tom laughed. “Oh, of course not—not a good old boy from Humboldt County! Where we grow our own.”
“You mean you did?” she asked, stunned.
“You should keep that to yourself. Maxie wouldn’t be too happy about that, even though I was just a stupid kid.”
“Seriously? You did?”
“I was not a pothead, all right?” he said, somewhat indignantly. “I was a kid, a boy. There might’ve been a little beer, a joint. I never got in trouble.” He shook his head. “Maxie would kill me. Even now.”
She laughed at him. “Your secret is safe with me. And that describes my dabbling exactly. I realized I was pregnant with Berry and there hasn’t been any of that since. Not anything. But Chad? I had absolutely no idea, but he was a sinking ship. Since I never saw him, how would I know? But when he came back later, when I was pregnant with Fay, his appearance had changed. He’d gotten so thin—his teeth and skin were terrible. He said they were working him to death, and I believed it, but that wasn’t what it was. I found out too late—he had fallen headlong into all kinds of drugs, had been kicked off the team, was doing some dealing to cover his own habit. He was not the same guy who rang all my chimes at a baseball game when I was nineteen.” She looked at Tom and just tilted her head. “I was young and dumb, no experience. I didn’t know anything. And I didn’t have anyone to lean on.”
“And then what happened?” Tom asked.
“Then?” she said.
“Well, you have two kids… .”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, by the time I realized what was going on I had a one-year-old and was pregnant, living on assistance in a hovel with my useless boyfriend living off me. I was twenty-one, broke, had no family and no money and Chad said we were coming to Humboldt County because he had found work, but Fay came before. It was winter in the mountains and he left me with a newborn baby and a toddler in a house that didn’t even keep the wind out. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of strangers, I don’t think we would have survived.”
“What work did he come here to do?” Tom asked.
“He said he got a job with a farmer,” she said with a rueful laugh and a slight flush. “I don’t think it was your regular kind of