How to Bake a Perfect Life - Barbara O'Neal [140]
The waitress brings water and menus. Jonah asks for hot tea. “And will you do me a favor and make sure the water is very hot?”
Katie asks, “Can I have coffee?”
I shrug. “Sure.” Then, “Tomorrow is my birthday,” I announce. “And I was wondering, Jonah, if you have a couple of days to spare.”
“Yes!” He takes my hand. The hope in his face makes me feel slightly ashamed of myself for making him suffer when he’s been so … steadfast.
Yes. Steadfast.
“Wish I’d known sooner,” he says.
“When is yours?”
“November twenty-ninth.”
“Katie?”
“February second.”
“Good.” I take a sip of coffee and lean forward. “I believe in birthdays. I think they’re important, and I like celebrating my own just as much as everybody else’s. So what I was thinking is that I want to drive to San Antonio.”
They both look at me blankly for a minute. “It’s about a twelve-hour drive,” Jonah says.
“Like today?” Katie asks.
“Yes. And yes. I’d like to see Sofia and Oscar, and I think you, Katie, need to see your dad. It’ll be good for both of you.”
She looks down. Her mouth gives away her fear. I reach out and take her hand. “Look at me, honey.”
There’s a sheen over her pale-green eyes when she does.
“When I was young,” I say, “I never liked babies. They seemed really boring and loud and I didn’t get why everybody thought they were so cute.”
She looks perplexed. “Yeah?”
“To be honest, I still don’t get terribly excited about most babies. But when Sofia was born and they put her in my arms, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t believe how much love there was inside me, how big my heart got.” I pause. “That man who used to frighten you was just a random man. When you see your father, you will see your father.”
The glycerin swell of tears spills over. “What if I don’t?”
I consider for a moment. “You can decide then what you want to do, how to proceed.”
She nods. I let her go. “It’s nonnegotiable, anyway. You’re going with me.”
A scowl wrinkles her forehead. “You’re bossy.”
“Yes, I am, because I am your guardian and I’ve been tiptoeing too much. Things are going to change a little. You are going to have to make restitution, and you will have to do some things when we get home if you want to live with me—”
“Like what?”
“We’ll talk about that later. I do want you to know that you don’t have to lug around a big bag of guilt over all this. I know you’re upset. I know you’re hurting, and that is going to take some time to get better, all right?”
She bows her head. “Thank you.”
“In the meantime, I want to go to San Antonio. We’ll have a real live road trip. Eat at greasy diners and listen to bad radio and whatever else goes along with that.”
“Candy,” Jonah says. “You have to have some candy in the car. Pixy Stix and sour cherries.”
“Oh, yeah,” Katie chimes in. “And those teeny chocolate balls. What are they called?”
“Sixlets,” Jonah says, and holds up his hand for a high five.
“Dude,” she says, “you do it like this.” She punches forward, and he meets it.
“So we’re in?”
“I am,” Jonah says.
“I am,” Katie echoes.
“Let’s do it, then!”
Sofia’s Journal
I am so tired of this heat and this eternal backache, I could scream. I want to go home and eat something I cooked, sitting at my table on a chair, not on a bench with twenty other people. I want to take a bath and read. I want to have this baby. When I walk in the hallway, I feel like some big ship sailing over the ocean. All I am now is pregnant, an oven with a giant bun risen to bursting. I’m not a woman or a friend or a granddaughter or a wife. I feel like I’m swimming through something thick and clear that muffles everything. I can hear people talking to me, but nothing much reaches me. Not that they know. I can fake it. My grandmother has been wonderful, picking up the things I can’t figure out anymore, bullying orderlies to take care of Oscar first, bringing magazines and sandwiches and fruit. She’s such a general.
Katie is safe, and that’s important. My mother found her, as I guess I knew she would. She’s pretty mighty, my mother.