I got laid off last year. Rick said we would be all right. But we had to sell the house and drop all of Noah's activities to get right. It's hard, I say, and the moms at parent pickup nod like they know.
Rick says getting rid of one of the cars is the next step. On top of gas and insurance, we pay extra for the second parking space at the apartment complex. But I don't want Noah to ride the bus. He's only six, and those buses have no seat belts.
The SUV has a leak in the gas tank. If it costs more than a couple hundred dollars to fix, we'll get rid of it. Not Rick's sedan, of course. I'll be stuck in the apartment every day, praying Noah comes home safe. Thirty-five minutes on a bus is too long. What if he falls asleep and misses his stop?
I dropped Rick at work in the sedan today, after we left the SUV in the shop. This afternoon I pulled into the school parking lot, but I couldn't go in right away. I didn't want to talk to the moms. I didn't want to hug Noah and walk outside looking for the SUV before I remembered I had the sedan. I didn't want to drive back to our two bedroom apartment with white walls made of paper. I just wanted to sit still.
That was when I heard the thumping. On top of everything else, that. I reached behind me and pulled down the folding rear seat. I looked into the trunk. She hadn't had a real wash in a week—there just hadn't been any time to sneak her inside. Her hair was so dirty that it looked like she was balding. Her scalp was bright white, even in the darkness of the trunk. I breathed through my mouth so that I couldn't smell her. She looked up at me and squinted—at the light, at me. I couldn't remember whether Rick or I had spotted her at the mall first. I couldn't remember who would be hurt if we had to get rid of her, too.
"All I have are crackers," I said. I didn't tell her I'd planned to give them to Noah. Rick would punish her later. I'd have to put Noah in bed by myself, and then clean the trunk.
She lowered her eyes, and wiggled away into the darkness. I could still see the leg of her sweatpants. I opened my purse, and pulled out a little bag of goldfish. They were on sale at Safeway. I'd had a coupon. The goldfish were bright rainbow colors. Noah had clapped his hands when they landed in the cart. I threw them into the trunk as hard as I could.