“Ms. Liu, you can’t give—”
“They’re not presents. Here. Take a look. They’re for when she’s older. I want her to have them. In case… in case she doesn’t look for me.”
The social worker inspects the contents. There are family pictures and jewelry, Frida’s grandmother’s pearl earrings and jade bracelet, her own wedding rings, family photos, a gold locket in which she’s coiled strands of her hair. This morning, she became breathless as she pulled hair out, picturing Harriet at five and seven, as a teenager, as a young woman. She wants Harriet to have a piece of her mother as she grows.
Ms. Torres agrees to make an exception. Frida thanks her. As she puts the jewelry away, she hears voices. Gust and Harriet are on the other side of the door.
“C’mon, you can walk. Walk like a big girl. We’re going to see Mommy now. Sweetie, c’mon. She’s waiting for us. Mommy is right in there. We have to go in now.”
Frida takes a mirror from her purse and checks her lipstick, then wipes it off. She tries to breathe.
When they enter, the social worker starts the timer on her phone. They begin their goodbye at 10:18. Frida and Gust embrace while Harriet clutches the doorframe. People in the waiting room crane their necks. Frida crouches beside Harriet, but Harriet won’t look at her.
Turn, Frida thinks.
Gust asks how she’s getting home. Yesterday, he and Renee were worried that she’d walk in front of a bus. He called every hour, made Will go home early to take care of her.
Will won’t be home until five. He asks if she can wait for Will somewhere in public. What’s her plan for today? Did she get any sleep last night?
“I need to know that you’ll be safe,” he says.
“We can’t talk about this now.” They’ve used up three minutes. She remembers to ask about Henry. Gust tells her that Henry’s bilirubin level is getting better.
She wants to tell Gust that she loves him, give him directions for the next sixteen years, tell him how Harriet should be raised. Today she’s saying goodbye to Gust, too.
She rubs Harriet’s back, out of habit touching the spot where Emmanuelle had her blue knob. Harriet pushes Frida’s hand away.
“My body,” Harriet says, moving from the doorframe to Gust’s leg.
Frida pushes the door closed and tries again. “I hear you saying that’s your body. That’s true. Can you look at me? It’s Mommy. Mommy Frida. I can’t believe how tall you are. Can I give you a hug? I’m so happy to see you, bub. I’ve been waiting to see you. Can I see you?”
Harriet looks up. She remains the most beautiful child Frida has ever seen. Her daughter’s beauty stuns and silences her. They hold hands and stare. Frida feels the social worker’s eyes on them, the weight of the camera and the clock, a year of expectations.
Harriet is tall and lean, about eight inches taller than Emmanuelle. Her face is now heart-shaped. Her eyes look more Chinese. They’ve kept her hair short. It curls around her ears. She’s carrying a Black plastic baby doll with its own bottle. Gust has dressed her in earth tones: a charcoal cardigan with white flowers, a brown jumper, loden-green tights, tiny brown boots.
“Hello, Mommy.” Harriet points to Frida’s bangs. “What happened to your hair?”
Gust and the social worker laugh. Frida can’t believe how clearly Harriet speaks now. If they had more time, if they were alone, they could have real conversations.
“Do you like it?” Frida asks. Harriet nods. She steps toward Frida, holding her arms out. As they hug, Frida feels unsteady. Dazed. She kisses Harriet’s hands, cups her face, looks into her real eyes, strokes her real skin.
Gust tries to leave, but Harriet begs him to stay. Their negotiations use up another five minutes. Gust reminds Harriet what’s going to happen. She’s not going to see Mommy for a long time. Mommy is staying on time-out. They have to say goodbye today.
“No time-out! No! I don’t want to do that!”
Gust kisses Frida on the head, kisses Harriet on the cheek, says he’ll be in the waiting room. The social worker asks Frida and Harriet to move away from the door. She directs them to sit on the couch. Frida holds Harriet on her lap, shifting beneath Harriet’s weight. She’s considerably heavier than Emmanuelle. Between sobs, Harriet asks why today is goodbye.
“Why Mommy on time-out? Why time-out a long time?”
Frida tells Harriet about their life a year ago, how Mommy had a very bad day, how because of her very bad day, she went to a school, where there were lots of mommies and lots of lessons. There were tests that Mommy was supposed to pass.