The motherhood mandate, p.16
The Motherhood Mandate, page 16
“I’m not sure,” Devi told her with a laugh. “But our first stop must be the restrooms!”
Rylee nodded her head in agreement. Allison seemed to take pleasure in kicking her bladder these days. She led Devi to the closest restroom and then took her to a nearby drink bar to grab some hot chocolate.
“I can’t believe Erin didn’t tell us that the trackers were going to be removed today,” Devi told her. “For a minute, I thought the officers were there to arrest someone!”
“I know!” Rylee breathed. “They looked so angry; you know?” She stopped to look at the dresses in one of the shop windows. “I’m just glad they did. That band was starting to cut into my skin from the swelling.”
“I guess we’re no longer considered to be flight risks,” Devi told her.
Rylee nodded, gesturing for her to continue walking. “Have you considered going home now?” she asked, deliberately not looking at Devi. “Have the baby in Canada rather than the US?”
Devi sighed, shaking her head sadly. “I can’t,” she told her. “If I leave, I risk losing my student visa because staying in the state is a condition of my release.”
“What?” Rylee was flabbergasted.
Devi stopped and looked at her. “This baby is a ward of the state. If I leave Wisconsin, I’m breaking state law. I was told a warrant for my arrest would be issued and the state would pursue an extradition order to bring me back.” She looked away and started walking again. “Besides, Tyler has made it clear that adoption is the only path forward.”
Rylee didn’t know what to say. They made a circuit through the far end of the mall, quietly keeping each other company as they moved from store to store.
“I’m feeling a bit nibbly,” Rylee told her as they passed the Thai restaurant. “Care to split a few appetizers with me?”
Devi smiled. “Sure.”
They entered the restaurant. It was a bit darker than the mall and she knew it would take a while for her eyes to adjust. The hostess showed them to their booth.
Rylee shrugged off her coat and stuffed it onto the seat. She was just about to slide in when she noticed an old bruise on Devi’s wrist before she pulled her sleeve down to cover it.
“Are you okay?” she asked as Devi pushed her coat into the booth and sat down.
“Sure,” Devi said, picking up the menu the hostess had left for them. “Why?”
Rylee slid into the booth. She leaned forward to look at Devi. “You’ve got a bruise on your wrist,” she told her.
Devi gave a slight shrug. “It’s fine,” she told her.
“Devi?”
She looked up. The look in her eyes made Rylee’s stomach tighten.
“What happened?” she asked.
Devi sighed and put the menu down. “Tyler has a bit of a temper,” she admitted. “It was an accident. He apologized. It’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” Rylee asked. “We could call someone.”
“The police?” Devi snorted. “Why? So, they could file a complaint about the man that I was forced to live with between semesters and make him even angrier? Spring break is coming up. No thanks, Rylee.” She picked up her menu again. “The crispy tofu looks interesting,” she commented.
Rylee looked down at her menu. “Sounds good,” she replied. “Um, how do you feel about some sticky rice, too?”
Devi nodded, then dropped her menu to the table. She looked out into the dining room, lost in thought.
Under normal circumstances, Rylee might have gone to her parents with this. Things were strained at home, but she was certain they would be able to help. Devi was right, though. If Tyler’s temper was bad enough for him to hit Devi or throw things at her, bringing the police into the picture might only make things worse.
Their waitress came to take their order, and they moved on to a different subject.
Chapter Twelve
Rylee carefully navigated her way down the front stairs from the apartment. She still couldn’t believe that Sam hadn’t come home after his mentoring meeting on Friday night. Even if he was staying with his parents, the least he could have done was swing by to pick her up for Sunday worship service.
She walked down the steps, feeling every bit of the thirty-one weeks of her pregnancy. She was grateful the other tenant had heavily salted the front walk. The last thing she needed was to land in the slushy snowbanks that lined the steps.
Sam hadn’t responded to any of her texts all weekend. At first, she thought maybe he had been at a party with his friend Lucas. Yes, he wasn’t allowed to drink, but she knew Sam. Offer that man a beer and he’d slam a few just to prove that he could.
The Uber driver rolled down the passenger side window to get a good look at her before he scrambled out of the car to open the backseat door. Rylee carefully minced through the compacted snow that coated the parkway. He held out his hand to help steady her, and she settled into the backseat with a sigh.
When Sam hadn’t come back to the apartment Friday night, Rylee had felt more rage than fear. How dare he completely ignore her? What if she went into preterm labor?
She stared out the window, not quite seeing the colorless landscape as they drove to Mequon. The dirty snow seemed to reflect her somber mood. If Sam had truly abandoned her, the Court would find out in due time. He’d face serious jail time for pulling this stunt, and then what?
They pulled up in front of Eternal Springs and joined the long line of cars dropping off passengers. She thought about directing the driver to the side entrance for a moment. No, she thought. Sam may have abandoned her, but she wasn’t going to hide. Let the entire fellowship see it for themselves.
She waited until the car was directly in front of the entrance before opening the door. She struggled to get out but waved off the driver’s offer to help. Her mom stood just inside the open doors as she walked into the church’s crowded narthex.
Her mom hugged her. “Worship is just about to start,” she said as she guided Rylee into the sanctuary. “What happened to Sam? Why didn’t you call me?”
Rylee shook her head. “Not now, Mom,” she said as they entered the sanctuary. “It’s fine.”
She slowed her pace as they walked along the back to the farthest aisle on the right. The family was already seated in the first pew on the far corner of the altar. The longer row accommodated the entire family, even with the excessively large diaper bag Chloe insisted on bringing with them when they were in town.
She took her seat at the far end of the pew and tried to clear her mind. It was the first Sunday of Lent. Time to set aside her own life with all of its stumbles and focus on the love, forgiveness, and salvation God freely gave all of His children, even one as selfish and childish, as Sam.
Pastor Chapman brought her back to the service with the opening prayer. “Lord God, You call us to work in your kingdom and leave no one standing idle,” the pastor said, smiling at the fellowship before him. “Help us to order our lives by your wisdom and to serve you in willing obedience; through Jesus Christ, your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.”
“Amen,” Rylee breathed, feeling the muscles in her lower back loosen up a bit. That irritated sciatic nerve had settled down to a dull ache since the massage therapist worked her magic.
By the time worship service was over, Rylee felt more at peace with herself than she had in days. A small number had moved to the fellowship hall for coffee, but most of the families with children had already left.
Rylee scanned the small crowd for the Maxwells. This was where Wendy Maxwell held court among her friends. A place where she handed out assignments and accolades with ease and dexterity. A place where the Williams family was welcomed, but only to a point.
Rylee slowly made her way to the kitchen, ignoring the blatant stares. “Mrs. Maxwell?” she asked as she opened the door. “Do you have a minute?”
Wendy Maxwell was standing on a step stool, pulling down another container of coffee from the top cabinet. She froze, shoulders tensing, then closed the cabinet door before looking over. “Yes?” she asked, her dark red hair framing her face.
Rylee closed the door behind her and stood in front of it, warily. “I haven’t seen Sam in a few days,” she cautiously told her. “He’s not answering my texts, either.”
Mrs. Maxwell placed the canister of ground coffee on the counter and carefully stepped down. She slowly folded the stool up and stored it next to the counter. “He’s fine,” she told Rylee as she turned, her hazel eyes flashing with anger even as she tried to smile. “No need to worry.”
Rylee frowned. “Then why hasn’t he answered my texts?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing him at worship today.”
“Where he is and what he is doing is of no concern to you,” Mrs. Maxwell snapped at her. She grabbed the coffee and moved across the room to stand directly in front of Rylee. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have coffee to make.”
Rylee stepped aside and Mrs. Maxwell almost bolted from the kitchen. She stood there for a long moment, surprised. Obviously, the Maxwells knew where Sam was and what he was doing. Somehow, they were fine with him blowing off his responsibilities.
She took a deep breath, one hand automatically going to her stomach. “It’s okay, sweetness,” she told the baby. “If your daddy’s not back to the apartment by tomorrow, I will have a long talk with Erin. If he gets a free pass, we’re moving back home!”
That evening, Rylee spent some time picking up around the apartment. The cleaning service would be stopping by while she was at her mentoring circle tomorrow and she was always uneasy leaving the place messy. The service had enough to do without being forced to load the dishwasher and sweep the first floor for Sam’s dirty clothes!
She spotted yet another pair of jeans on the floor next to the couch and slowly squatted down to pick them up, using one hand against the wall to steady herself. Then, she opened the living room closet and dropped them into the basket on the floor. Sam had shoved a four-drawer dresser inside, leaving just enough room to hang up their winter coats.
Frustrated, Rylee walked to the kitchen and grabbed her phone from the counter next to the stove. She pulled up Kathryn’s number from her favorites. Gotta minute? she texted.
She barely had time to tuck her phone into her back pocket before it rang.
“Hey, Rylee,” Kathryn said. “What’s up?”
“Sam’s still missing,” she told Kathryn, scanning the kitchen for her earbuds. “Either his mom doesn’t know where he is or he’s hiding out at home. Either way, I’m still stuck cleaning up his mess so that the cleaning service can come over tomorrow.”
“He’s still not home?” Kathryn responded. “I thought that wasn’t optional.”
She spotted her earbuds on the counter and scooped them up. “Well, apparently it is,” Rylee groused, popping the earbuds in. “I need to clean up around here before I call an Uber to haul my laundry back to the house to have it washed.” She tucked her phone into her back pocket and slowly walked up the stairs to the second floor. “And if Sam thinks I’m doing his laundry, he’s got another thing coming!”
Kathryn laughed. “You’ve only got to deal with this for a few more months, Rylee,” she reassured her. “Come August, you’re moving across the country!”
Rylee entered her bedroom. She pulled the small laundry basket from the closet floor and put it on the bed to sort. “Yeah, well, it can’t happen soon enough!” she told her. “I’m really getting tired of trying to pick up after him. There’s only so much room for our stuff.”
“I don’t remember if you told me,” Kathryn said. “But some apartments have laundry facilities in the basement. Might be worth taking stuff downstairs instead of trying to haul it home or over to my place.”
Rylee stopped to think. “Maybe,” she mused. “I think so.” She vaguely remembered something about a coin-operated washer and drier in the basement, but dismissed it because it seemed to be a waste of money.
“Well, check it out,” Kathryn said encouragingly. “Worst-case scenario is you still end up calling an Uber, right? Best case is that you can get your laundry done tonight and have time to relax.”
“That assumes we have laundry soap,” Rylee reminded her. “I have no idea what Sam’s been doing with his own clothes.”
“You’ve got this, Rylee,” Kathryn said. “Whoops! Hannah’s calling. Gotta run!”
“Bye,” Rylee said, but the call had already dropped. She stood there for a moment, then went to find her purse. If the machine didn’t take her debit card, she’d have to hope she could find enough change to get at least one load done.
She only found a few bills in her wallet, so she started hunting around the living room. She could have sworn Sam had a jar of change in his desk. She started opening drawers. Found it! Not only was there loose change, but half of a roll of quarters.
She looked around. Somehow, she doubted that Sam’s mom was taking care of his laundry. She walked over to the living room closet, pulled the laundry basket out, and found a small container of liquid soap and a few drier sheets under his clothes.
Rylee made her way across the living room and into the kitchen, grabbed her keys from the counter, and headed out the back door. She carefully locked the door behind her before hesitantly making her way down the stairs and into the dank basement.
The washing machine looked ancient. There was a coin slot that took four quarters. The dryer took two. So, a dollar and a half per load. Good thing she only had two!
She climbed the back stairs, pausing at the door. She peered out into the early twilight. It might only be just after 5 p.m., but it was already getting dark. And still no sign of Sam.
She sighed and turned away. Another night of worry.
She made her way back up to the second floor and grabbed her laundry basket. Then, she slowly made her way back down the stairs, the musty smell of the basement making her worry about mold.
She set the basket on the counter next to the washing machine. She quickly sorted the clothes, throwing the white clothes into the washer and the dark clothes onto the counter. She studied the ancient machine for a moment, then carefully poured the laundry soap over the clothes. Looks easy enough, she thought. Cold wash, cold rinse.
She put the quarters into the slots at the top of the washer, listened to the sound of the money dropping into the container beneath, and the washer started to fill with water.
She closed the lid with a smile. Her biggest concern was getting the clothes out of the bottom of the washing machine, but they had a pair of kitchen tongs that might work. Next step: find something in the fridge to heat up for dinner.
“As you know, once you’ve given birth, you’ll be moving to the postpartum support program,” Erin told the group. “You’ll meet every week, starting when your baby is a month old, but the day and time will depend on the location. Our goal is to give you a neighborhood-based location and support plan.”
Rylee glanced out the window, only half-listening. A few snowflakes fluttered by. Maybe it was going to snow again.
Erin gave Brittany a pile of half-inch binders to pass out, then directly handed Devi a folder. “Much of this won’t apply to you, Devi, dear,” she told her. “But there’s still time for you and Tyler to change your mind, so I’m required to give you both of these.”
Devi jerked her chin sharply, looking down as she took the folder. “I understand,” she muttered.
“Zara, I added some additional resources that you might find helpful,” Erin said. “I believe you may be familiar with Milwaukee Public School’s Early Childhood Education Program, but I’ve also included some respite care services that may be able to assist during this child first few months of life.”
Lily leaned to the side, resting the binder against her chair leg. “Isn’t that for children with disabilities?” she asked, curious.
“In most cases, yes,” Erin replied. “However, we’ve found that providing at-risk couples with support in those first few months can improve family stability, even when couples choose to later separate.”
“How is this different from getting a babysitter?” Grace asked.
Erin smiled as she sat back down in the circle. “A babysitter doesn’t typically have training in early childhood development to provide new parents guidance or can spot a developmental problem early on,” she told them. “I’ve also included information on the area food assistance, legal aid, and childcare assistance programs.”
“What if you have a remote job?” Charlotte asked. “Liam works from home, but I will need to travel once Ely is born. Can we get help with childcare?”
“Eligibility is typically determined by the Federal Poverty Level,” Erin told her. She opened her binder and walked the group through the available childcare assistance programs. Then, she pulled out the copay schedule to review with the group.
Rylee found herself looking around the room. None of this applied to her. Even if she lost the fight with Sam over the nanny, they’d still be over the income threshold because of her current assets.
She heard Devi sniffling next to her. She turned and saw tears slowly dripping down Devi’s cheeks.
“What is it, Devi?” Rylee whispered, putting an arm around her.
“I—I can’t,” Devi stuttered. “I just can’t!”
Erin stopped the conversation and came over to Devi. She knelt in front of her and took one of Devi’s hands. “What’s wrong, dear?” she asked gently.
Devi burst into tears. Rylee pulled her into an awkward hug, looking at Erin for help. If Tyler had hurt Devi again, she’d call the police, so help her God!
“Why don’t we clear the room,” Zara told the group. She stood up and started to herd the other women out into the hallway. Rylee met her eyes and gave a shake of her head. She wasn’t going to let go of Devi unless she pulled away first.
“Devi,” Erin said softly. “Can you tell me what’s going on? I can help.”
