Free Girls in Trouble by Caroline Leavitt Page A

greedily, her eyes squinched shut. Anne drained the bottle and Eva set it down, standing, the baby in her arms. A slant of moon came in through the blinds. Eva looked down at Anne and was startled to see the baby watching her with grave slate eyes. “What?” Eva whispered. “Tell me.” And then Anne put her small baby hand on the side of Eva’s face, like a conversation, and something fluttered through Eva’s stomach, and no matter how late it was, and how tired she was, she stayed right where she was, swaying the baby in her arms, as if Anne might be a dream that would disappear in the cool light of morning.

chapter
four

    I t was morning, twelve days since she had given birth, and the day Sara was due to go to Eva and George’s. She was trying to stay in bed until after her parents left. Already, she had been up since five, grabbing for her summer reading,
The Mill on the Floss,
trying to get lost in it the way she usually was, but today it wasn’t working. Maggie Tulliver whispered at her, but she couldn’t hear. She missed the baby too much. She missed George and Eva, and even though every day she had called, first from the hospital and then from home, it wasn’t the same. “Just have to change Anne,” Eva said, her voice rushing. “Just have to give the baby a bath. I’ll call as soon as I can,” George promised.
    She could smell her mother’s coffee, the slightly burnt toast her father loved and Abby always scraped. She could hear her father’s voice, but not what he was saying.
    Sara couldn’t stay in bed anymore. Leaping up, she grabbed her blue robe and headed for the bathroom, locking the door. She turned the water on full force, as hot as it would go. The mirrors had to be fogged over before she’d undress. She couldn’t bear to look at her belly, at the stretch marks like white webs. Her breasts shrunk down to nothing.
    She stepped into the shower. The hot water hit her like a punishment. She grabbed the soap and washed, staring up at the tiles, the door, anywhere but her body. Danny never could stop looking. He used to say herskin reminded him of apricots, that her being so sleek, so small-boned, was sexier than the lushest model. He used to wrap her hair around his hand like a skein of yarn, and then he’d draw her gently against him. She sighed just as he drew a breath in. “I inhale, you exhale,” he said.
    What would he think now if he saw her body? She tilted her head toward the water, so it coursed down her like rivers. What would he think now if he saw Anne? Would he say, “I made a terrible mistake,” the same way she sometimes did? Even now, she still couldn’t help harboring hope that Danny would come back. He still had to sign papers saying he knew there would be a hearing giving up his rights, which wouldn’t be until six months from now. A lot could happen in six months, couldn’t it? He could still find her.
    Or she could find him if she only knew how.
    She had thought about that the day George and Eva had taken Anne home from the hospital. She had been holding the baby tight in her arms. The baby seemed tinier than anything she could have imagined. Chubby legs folded in like commas. The baby’s face didn’t look anything like Danny’s, but Anne was the only part of Danny that was still hers. The moment Eva lifted the baby away from her, the whole room got darker. It didn’t matter what she had felt before, or promised, it all seemed like a terrible mistake and Sara suddenly wanted time to stop.
    “Wait!” she cried, and Eva smiled, one hand protectively over the baby’s head. “We’ll see you soon,” George promised.
Stay with me
, she wanted to tell them.
Don’t go
. And then they had left and Sara had lain in the white hospital bed, staring at the walls, her arms suddenly so empty she couldn’t imagine anything could ever fill them.
    Sara bent to the spigots, making the water hotter. Then she sat down in the tub, the spray pouring over her, and she thought