other way.
Addy and I find the mall and window-shop for the rest of the day. I splurge and buy caramel corn and a soda. At nine thirty Addy needs to be changed and starts crying, but it’s not time to head to the car and Green Witch Soap and Suds yet—they don’t close until eleven. I still have time to kill since I don’t want to get there until Ivy is gone.
In the lower level of the mall, there’s a movie theater. We ride down the escalator, with Addy getting louder and louder all the way. Trying to look like I have an urgent situation, I run to the ticket window and point inside the theater. “I need to change her fast! It’s dripping out!”
The man at the window looks grossed out and waves me in. “Go ahead. It’s to your right!”
I dart into the women’s bathroom with Addy and lean my back against the door. “We did it,” I tell her. “Let’s hope the big plan works as smoothly.”
After changing her, I sneak into a movie about bridesmaids who go on a trip for a bachelorette party. It’s a good thing Addy sleeps through it, because she’s way too young for an R-rated movie. I crack up at the funny parts and try to forget I’m a homeless runaway kidnapper.
When the movie ends, I drive to Green Witch Soap and Suds. It’s well past closing time, and the parking lot’s empty when I pull in. I pick a spot that’s not right up front but not all the way in the back either. I want Ivy to see us when she gets here in the morning.
Addy’s asleep, so I don’t bother changing her into pajamas; I just leave her in her car seat and tuck a blanket around her. “ ’Night-night, baby.” I kiss her forehead, and she sighs.
It’s a long, hot, uncomfortable night. When I leave the windows down, bugs fly in, but I have to leave them cracked at least, or we’ll suffocate. There must be ten mosquitoes in the car that I’m trying to squish against the dashboard. Addy’s got a big welt on her cheek where she’s been bitten. I’ve given her another bottle already, gotten absolutely no sleep, and it’s three in the morning.
By six, I’m contemplating driving back home. But I can’t. I don’t want to see my mom ever again. “Just a few more hours,” I tell myself. I give Addy another bottle and crash out with her on my lap.
• • •
A knock on my side window wakes me. “What in God’s name are you two doing? Did you sleep here all night?” Ivy grabs the door handle and tries to jerk it open.
I unlock the door and let her open it. “Yeah, we did. All the hotels are booked. I wanted to catch you to say thanks for trying. I appreciate it. It didn’t work out, though. Your nephew doesn’t want to rent to someone with a baby.”
She scowls. “That’s the most ridiculous . . . That man . . . I just . . . Come with me!” She lifts Addy off my lap and marches to the door of Green Witch Soap and Suds with her keys jingling.
I follow her inside and sit at the same table I sat at before while she takes Addy around the bar and grabs the phone. While it rings, she plops a kiss on top of Addy’s head.
“Christopher,” she says, “put your father on, please.” She nods her head a few times. “Oh, yeah, he is in big trouble with me.”
After a few minutes, she clears her throat. “Good morning, it’s your favorite auntie Ivy calling to ask you what on earth you were thinking casting a young mother out onto the street? Do you know they slept in the car last night?”
Her head starts shaking back and forth. “No. I don’t care. You’re being a stubborn, ridiculous man, and you will rent this room to Leah and Addy, or I’ll call in the big guns.” She smirks. “Oh, I would. Now, I’m sending Leah back over.” She winks at me. “Uh-huh. Then leave a key in the planter.” Ivy jiggles Addy on her hip. “Fine, then. Love you too. Buh-bye.”
She hangs up and looks at me. “He’s leaving your front-door key in the planter on the back patio table.”
I rub my eyes and yawn,
Addy and I find the mall and window-shop for the rest of the day. I splurge and buy caramel corn and a soda. At nine thirty Addy needs to be changed and starts crying, but it’s not time to head to the car and Green Witch Soap and Suds yet—they don’t close until eleven. I still have time to kill since I don’t want to get there until Ivy is gone.
In the lower level of the mall, there’s a movie theater. We ride down the escalator, with Addy getting louder and louder all the way. Trying to look like I have an urgent situation, I run to the ticket window and point inside the theater. “I need to change her fast! It’s dripping out!”
The man at the window looks grossed out and waves me in. “Go ahead. It’s to your right!”
I dart into the women’s bathroom with Addy and lean my back against the door. “We did it,” I tell her. “Let’s hope the big plan works as smoothly.”
After changing her, I sneak into a movie about bridesmaids who go on a trip for a bachelorette party. It’s a good thing Addy sleeps through it, because she’s way too young for an R-rated movie. I crack up at the funny parts and try to forget I’m a homeless runaway kidnapper.
When the movie ends, I drive to Green Witch Soap and Suds. It’s well past closing time, and the parking lot’s empty when I pull in. I pick a spot that’s not right up front but not all the way in the back either. I want Ivy to see us when she gets here in the morning.
Addy’s asleep, so I don’t bother changing her into pajamas; I just leave her in her car seat and tuck a blanket around her. “ ’Night-night, baby.” I kiss her forehead, and she sighs.
It’s a long, hot, uncomfortable night. When I leave the windows down, bugs fly in, but I have to leave them cracked at least, or we’ll suffocate. There must be ten mosquitoes in the car that I’m trying to squish against the dashboard. Addy’s got a big welt on her cheek where she’s been bitten. I’ve given her another bottle already, gotten absolutely no sleep, and it’s three in the morning.
By six, I’m contemplating driving back home. But I can’t. I don’t want to see my mom ever again. “Just a few more hours,” I tell myself. I give Addy another bottle and crash out with her on my lap.
• • •
A knock on my side window wakes me. “What in God’s name are you two doing? Did you sleep here all night?” Ivy grabs the door handle and tries to jerk it open.
I unlock the door and let her open it. “Yeah, we did. All the hotels are booked. I wanted to catch you to say thanks for trying. I appreciate it. It didn’t work out, though. Your nephew doesn’t want to rent to someone with a baby.”
She scowls. “That’s the most ridiculous . . . That man . . . I just . . . Come with me!” She lifts Addy off my lap and marches to the door of Green Witch Soap and Suds with her keys jingling.
I follow her inside and sit at the same table I sat at before while she takes Addy around the bar and grabs the phone. While it rings, she plops a kiss on top of Addy’s head.
“Christopher,” she says, “put your father on, please.” She nods her head a few times. “Oh, yeah, he is in big trouble with me.”
After a few minutes, she clears her throat. “Good morning, it’s your favorite auntie Ivy calling to ask you what on earth you were thinking casting a young mother out onto the street? Do you know they slept in the car last night?”
Her head starts shaking back and forth. “No. I don’t care. You’re being a stubborn, ridiculous man, and you will rent this room to Leah and Addy, or I’ll call in the big guns.” She smirks. “Oh, I would. Now, I’m sending Leah back over.” She winks at me. “Uh-huh. Then leave a key in the planter.” Ivy jiggles Addy on her hip. “Fine, then. Love you too. Buh-bye.”
She hangs up and looks at me. “He’s leaving your front-door key in the planter on the back patio table.”
I rub my eyes and yawn,
Similar Books
