Missing You

The nurses said baby Jared was a scrawny little thing, but that was fine. Dana didn’t need some big-ass baby. She still shopped in the girls’ department — it was cheaper that way. She looked down at the baby in her lap, scrunching his face and waving his arms. Three days old, and he already had his father’s dark curly hair. That asshole Billy was probably watching his stories right now. He had better be. Either that or pulling an extra shift.

Every time she’d put five dollars in the beat up shoe box hidden in her closet, ten more seemed to vanish. They always needed something. If they saved enough, maybe Billy wouldn’t have to work so many late night shifts. And maybe he’d spend less time in front of the TV and more time with her. She couldn’t even remember the last time Billy took her out somewhere. Not even for a water dog or anything.

Tonight, she’d send Billy down to the bodega for some of those Little Debbie snack cakes. They deserved to celebrate. They could spare a few dollars. If he tried to talk her out of it, she’d just hide the remote until he went. Or hide his smokes. She wouldn’t have to hide the beer. No way he’d be drinking tonight. Not when he had a baby now.

A boy. Billy Marlowe had himself a boy. He was going to be so proud. He hadn’t said he wanted a boy, but no guy like Billy wanted to be carrying around a baby girl in her frilly dresses. The guys on the corner would laugh so hard their faces would crack. Billy was probably working extra shifts so they could buy that folding stroller she saw at the thrift store.

When she got home, she’d see if Charlie down the way wanted to buy the smokes. If she couldn’t smoke, he couldn’t smoke. She’d quit smoking months ago when one of the old ladies at work told her it was bad for the baby. If it wasn’t for those damned dimples, she would’ve thrown out Billy’s smokes then too. Every time she wanted to kill him, he’d flash her a dimpled smile, and everything would be fine again.

Didn’t matter what he was saying, just hearing him talk got to her. Back home, nobody had an accent. She’d never get over how Billy would wake up every morning and ask for his cup of caw-fee. It made him feel exotic. And they thought she was weird for saying cough-fee.

How she survived the long walk up the subway stairs, she’d never know. She shielded her eyes with one hand and clutched baby Jared to her chest. The sun at full blast stung her eyes after 3 days of fluorescent Bzzrt. At least it had finally started cooling off outside. Soon, it would be winter, and then Jared’s first Christmas. If they saved enough, maybe they could go to Sears for a family portrait for the holidays.

A couple of young dudes sat on the stoop playing their boombox. The heavy synth felt like a wave crashing into her. Billy hadn’t even called the hospital. He must’ve been real busy working. A loud wail rattled her chest. Why did baby Jared choose now to erupt? She had no idea what he wanted. How was she supposed to know? The nurses said he might be less fussy at home. They said he’d settle down in a few days.

She jiggled the baby and started the long climb up the stairs. Why did they have so many stairs? Her legs felt like jello, and little Jared couldn’t stay still for a second. She tightened her grip and gritted her teeth. Jared kicked her in the stomach, and she had to stop halfway up the stairs. Kid was already giving her grief. Just like his old man.

The apartment hallway always had that faint smell of Newports and cheap tequila, and today was no different. She shushed Jared and waited with the key in the lock and her hand on the knob until he quieted down. Billy didn’t need to meet his son screaming. She couldn’t hear Billy’s stories. Either it was on mute or Luke Spencer was having throat issues today. Or maybe Billy went out for a lotto ticket.

The door swung wide open. The toaster was unplugged like always. Billy would never let the place burn down. A square chalk line of dust rested on the stand where the TV used to be. Dana moved closer. The dust lines were perfectly straight. Little Jared got too close and sneezed right in her face. Billy probably sold the TV for the baby. They had another mouth to feed after all. He was probably out there buying a baby carrier.

“M’ija?” A woman’s voice sounded from behind her.

She turned around. Mrs. Jimenez was hovering in the doorway, wringing her hands.

“Have you seen Billy?” Dana asked.

“Not since Sunday. My guy helped him carry the TV downstairs.” She frowned.

The only sound was the fridge humming across the room.

Mrs. Jimenez was full of shit. Billy hadn’t left. He went out looking for a second job. He’d always wanted to be a security guard. He had the kind of face people trusted. She gripped Jared tighter to her chest until he squeaked.

Mrs. Jimenez put her hand on Dana’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Dana nodded.

A glass of water appeared beside her, and Mrs. Jimenez led her to the couch. She hadn’t even bothered to turn the lights on when she got home. The sun beamed through the window behind her, leaving a trail of dust motes in its wake.

She didn’t have time for this shit. Billy had better get his ass back here. Forget the baby carrier. She could carry Jared up and down these stairs. She’d find a way. They’d make it work.

Three days ago, she was standing right over there, gripping the counter and waiting for her toast to pop, when it hit her: she was in labor. She thought it was bad tacos from last night. Billy had been so sweet to hand her a ten-dollar bill for the cab. Only the best for his girl. He said he couldn’t go with her — they needed the money too much — but he’d visit as soon as his shift ended.

The apartment still smelled faintly of burnt toast. If she didn’t replace that toaster soon, it was going to burn the place down. She’d just have to eat jelly bread then. No toast. Not until she could afford a new one.

“My guy is making tamales tonight. I can bring you some later. Spicy isn’t great, no, but you can handle it, right?” Mrs. Jimenez asked. Dana nodded.

Mrs. Jimenez stroked her hair. “Take care, m’ija. I’ll be back later to check on you.”

The sun began to set outside and the world was bathed in a dull gray. Her eyes were glued to the space where the TV used to be. It was the only perfectly square thing in this place. She’d have to dump that ashtray later, and get rid of that empty beer bottle too. Billy was always leaving his empties all over the place. Every time she’d asked him to stop, he’d flash those dimples at her, and that was the end of that.

She must’ve eaten the tamales because there was a dirty dish in the sink and a numb feeling in her mouth where the spices burnt her tongue, but it was like they never existed at all. She’d only developed a taste for spicy food after she got pregnant. Nobody ate spicy food back home.

Once baby Jared was asleep on the couch, she went to her room to check on the shoe box. The top wasn’t on all the way, and Billy’s old flannel she’d draped over the box sat heaped in the corner. She knelt down to inspect the shoe box and found it empty. That asshole Billy. She was going to tell him about the money after the baby. They could be a real family. Maybe even get married in the spring.

Jared began to wail from his spot on the couch in the other room. That boy didn’t know how to keep quiet. She’d already changed him fifty-five times in the past three days. He was as full of shit as his father. He was gonna be a looker someday, just like his old man too.

Once she fed his crying ass, he finally quieted down. She brought him into the bedroom and opened the window to let the stale air out. The boys from earlier were still out there on the stoop with their boombox like nothing had changed. Because nothing had changed. Not for anyone else.

She laid Jared down in the bassinet and climbed in the bed across the room. She smiled despite herself, Billy’s dimpled grin staring back at her in the darkness. The song from the stoop echoed in her head. No, Billy wasn’t missing them at all. No matter what she said. A tiny pair of eyes blinked back at her from across the room. The whine of sirens below made Jared screech. Of course Billy wasn’t missing them. Get used to it, kid.