Every day, Roxanne has been sitting with Meryl and Colin at lunch. Her crush on Meryl has grown more intense and irrational. Every night, she’s been stubbornly asking if Frida thinks she still has a chance. Roxanne says Meryl has broken up with the green-eyed guard, will break up with Ocean’s father once she can tell him in person.
“Meryl is not the right pizza for you,” Frida says. “We only have three more months. You know this.”
Frida has tried to warn Meryl about Colin, but the girl won’t listen. Colin doesn’t want Meryl to stay friends with Frida. He’s still mad about evaluation day. He said that if Frida really cared about the fate of Black people in America, she would’ve let him win. Meryl said that she’s truly happy for the first time in her life. She’s happier than when Ocean was born. She’s happier than when she met Ocean’s father. This will be the story she and Colin tell their future children. Love in a hopeless place.
“Like that song,” Meryl said.
Roxanne has stopped giggling and talking in her sleep.
“Are you there?” she asks, waking Frida throughout the night. Sometimes she sneaks out of bed and sits beside Frida.
They take turns scratching each other’s backs. They talk about her mother, about Isaac, who’s started walking. His foster mom has bought him his first pair of hard-soled shoes. When she tried to have him walk for Roxanne during the last Sunday call, he wouldn’t do it.
“What cool shit is he going to do next?” Roxanne asks.
Frida tells her about Harriet’s first steps and first words, the point at which Harriet could walk without falling. She’s no longer sure what happened in which month.
* * *
The parents practice calm and friendly communication during disputes with teachers, pediatricians, coaches, and authority figures. Frida feels Tucker’s eyes on her all day. Whenever he looks at her, she feels herself becoming more beautiful. She’s sure the cameras can distinguish between this heat and the blush of mother love.
But she thrives on it. Wants more of it. She can’t allow him to make her weak, but it happens despite her best intentions. At night, she imagines giving the house of her mind and the house of her body to the man who let his son fall out of a tree. She pictures their bodies together in a room with no cameras.
She hasn’t asked if he wants more children, can’t ask him here. But her parents deserve another grandchild. Harriet’s two families should be evenly matched. She’d love to feel the kicking again, should have appreciated those months when she and Harriet were always together, when she counted kicks twice a day, felt the drumming fists at bedtime, Harriet responding to her warm hands, their first secret codes.
One day at lunch, ignoring the counselor’s warning, she sits with Tucker and tells him what’s been happening at home.
“Do you still love him?” Tucker asks.
“No. I don’t think so. I should be happy for him. I’m trying to be. If I was a good, unselfish person, I’d be happy. Do you still love your wife?”
“My ex-wife. You don’t need to worry about her. She’s my family. But, listen, I’m glad you’re thinking about it.”
He squeezes her shoulder. She removes his hand. He moves his right leg so it brushes her left. She becomes wet. She rearranges her silverware on her plate. She can’t look at him. If she looks, she’ll want to touch. If she touches, her life will be over.
“I can’t get distracted,” she says.
“Am I distracting you?”
“What else would you call this?”
He shrugs and says, “Maybe, a romance.”
* * *
Gust and Susanna take the next Sunday call from the porch of their rented beach house in Cape May. Susanna is wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat and a black string bikini that shows off her freckled cleavage. Gust is tanned and shirtless.
Frida vows not to cry in front of the beautiful couple raising her daughter. She stares at Susanna’s breasts. Susanna won’t have any trouble nursing. Her baby will latch instantly. Her milk will be plentiful. She’ll never have to use formula.
Their voices are garbled in the wind. Harriet’s face is sunburned. Her hair sticks up in wet peaks. Gust asks her to say her latest funny sentence again for Mommy.
“The moon is a ball in the sky.” Harriet pronounces each word emphatically.
After Frida finishes applauding, Harriet points at the screen.
“Mommy, you are bad.”
Gust and Susanna tell her to be nice.
“You are bad! You are bad! Don’t like you!”