Sisters in the Wind(86)
He stayed with me until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.
I named him Luke.
A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE
JUNE 2009
I make homemade pizza back at the hotel suite. Jamie, Daunis, and I sit on the extra comforter. We don’t turn the television on.
“I had a baby boy last year on March seventh.” I pause to let them absorb the shocking announcement. It also gives me a chance to steady my voice.
By the time I continue, Daunis has moved next to me. I reach for her hand and grip it like a lifeline.
“I gave him up for adoption. My last foster placement was at a group home on a family farm. I found out they took in many pregnant teens and encouraged adoption. An attorney handled the private adoptions. Most of the adoptions were legal, but maybe a bit sketchy on expenses to birth parents.”
Jamie moves to sit at my other side.
“Some of the girls were already pregnant when they were placed at the farm. Other girls, like me, got pregnant at the farm. We were taken care of very well there. One guy told me he got paid a bonus for fathering a baby. He also confessed to killing the boy I liked because he saw us having sex. He wasn’t jealous; he just didn’t want any competition.
“I didn’t want him to kill me, so I pretended that I wanted to get pregnant for the money we could make. I knew I was already pregnant, but I let him have sex with me as an insurance policy. When I left his place, I blew out all the candles except for one on his bedroom windowsill. Creamsicle. That’s how it smelled. It was a hot August night. His window was open, and the curtains were fluttering in the breeze.”
I’ve replayed that moment over and over. My conscious decision to not blow out that one candle. I didn’t push the candle closer to the curtain. But I also didn’t move it away.
I continue with my story. “Someone—multiple people—saw me leaving Boyd’s room above the big garage before the fire that killed him. Mrs. Hoppy, my foster mother, saw me. She threatened to go to the authorities. I was scared that the Hoppys would blackmail me into giving them the baby to sell to the highest bidder. The times that I tried telling people things, I wasn’t believed. Nobody looks too hard when a foster kid goes missing … I saw that over and over.”
Jamie reaches for my other hand. He holds it gently. His fingers are slender, almost delicate, but I know there is strength and determination within his grip.
“Before the baby was born, I needed to find evidence of the shady things going on at the farm. I figured I could leverage the evidence to keep the baby safe. I could choose the adoptive parents. I could leave the farm. And then I found evidence of something even worse than the bonuses and illegal adoptions. I thought I’d lined everything up to keep Luke safe. So, I ran. And everything was fine for six months.”
I raise the hand that Jamie’s holding.
“Then Jamie showed up. The diner was bombed. Nancy was injured; she could’ve died. I couldn’t leave until my leg healed. They kept coming for me. Anyone around me is a target.”
I look to Daunis.
“You want a future for me that includes Maggie and the whole family.”
I turn to Jamie.
“You want a future for me that Lily didn’t get, and maybe a sister protégé to help with the ICWA work because we know it changes lives.”
I squeeze their hands.
“I need your help. Not for the future you want, but for the future I need. I literally cannot run and hide unless I’m cleared in the bomb investigation.”
WHEN I WAS SEVENTEEN
2008
I had one mission: Protect Luke Diaz Smith.
In order to succeed, I had to do five things:
Stay alive to do the other tasks.
Give Luke the healthiest start in life.
Find the best parent or parents to adopt Luke.
Make a copy of Diego’s file in the hopes of finding family medical-history information.
Find evidence of at least one crime committed by the Hoppys to secure a blackmail détente so Luke wouldn’t be used as a bargaining chip.
To stay alive, I needed to recuperate from childbirth. I didn’t know I’d still have contractions for days after delivering the baby. And I was in pain from things I hadn’t known would be sore, like my butt and every inch of both breasts. I didn’t know stuff would continue to come out of my body, like bloody mucus from my vagina. Or that pee and breast milk would leak at random times. I was in diapers for ten days.
I returned to Hoppy Farm with Luke so I could breastfeed him for at least a month or until I accomplished task 3. I had researched the benefits of breastfeeding. Breastfed babies—no matter the duration—had a lower risk of SIDS, type 1 diabetes, asthma, chronic ear infections, and digestive issues. The colostrum, which was the first type of milk that came out, was like a super smoothie of nutrients and antibodies for developing a good immune system.
I kept Luke with me every minute of every day for the next two months. I understood my dad in a way I never had before. As long as I could see Luke, hear him, smell him, feel him, then I knew he was safe. I inhaled his baby smell from the top of his head and his milky breath when I burped him. He had toes the size of those tiny white mints.
I refused to let anyone touch him, except for Devery. She could hold him as long as I was in the same room. If not for her, I probably wouldn’t have taken any showers that spring. Missus let me know she thought it wasn’t healthy to form such an intense bond with a baby who would be adopted. Only Jennifer spoke up on my behalf.