Renata scooted to the other side of the closet so she could hear better.
“…a little longer,” Christy was saying. “Things are real hard for me at work right now. By next week, it should be straightened out. Then I’ll make Renata my first priority.”
“Don’t you see, Christy? Next week it’ll be another emergency at work. You need to commit to Renata all the way or let her go. You’re not doin’ her any favors.”
“Someone said the moms at school think I’m a bad mother. Do you think that’s true?”
“No,” Nectar said.
“Really?” Christy asked, sounding surprised. “I’m okay?”
“I didn’t say that. I don’t think you’re a good mother or a bad mother. You’re not a mother at all.”
Christy groaned sadly.
“Do you really think this is any way to raise a little girl?” Nectar asked gently.
“No, of course not. It isn’t ideal. But I have so many responsibilities. I don’t think I could do it without staff.”
“Christy, lots of women work and have kids at the same time.”
“Then why is this so hard for me?”
“Maybe those women have husbands who help more.”
“Even single women work and raise kids.”
“That they do,” Nectar said. “But they aren’t the big boss of the whole shebang. Didn’t anybody ever teach you the rule of two?”
“Is that from Shakespeare?”
“It’s from my old boss, Lillian Kornblee. Love, career, children, pick two.”
“You think I need to choose?”
“Yes, I do.”
“But Renata’s not even my child. I started Baby G. It means everything to me. I fell in love with Michael. He’s my other half.”
“Then I guess we know what you’ll be choosing,” Nectar said.
Renata gasped in the closet, almost giving herself away. Her heart beat frantically. If Christy follows the rule of two and I come out number three, where will I go? What will I do? Who’ll raise me? she wondered. Not good. Not good at all. What if they send me to foster care? Renata remembered that some of the kids at her old school had been with foster families, and it sounded like the worst fate possible. She knew for a fact that foster parents treated their kids like slaves and slapped them around for fun and held them prisoner in cellars filled with piles of old yellow newspapers. Renata’s nightmare fantasy was interrupted when she heard Nectar say she was going to pack her things.
“Wait,” Christy said. “Please. Give me a week. Please, Nectar.”
Nectar was silent for a moment. “You seem to want to do right by Renata. Okay,” she said. “One week. After that, you’re on your own.”
DEAR DIARY,
YESTERDAY STEPHANIE’S MOM CAUGHT US PLAYING DOCTOR. SHE WENT MENTAL AND SNAPPED. I CAN’T PLAY WITH STEPHANIE ANYMORE. NOT THAT I CARE. I WAS JUST FAKING BEING HER FRIEND ANYWAY. LATER, CHRISTY HELD A BIG MEETING WHERE EVERYONE TALKED ABOUT ME. DR. PEARLMUDDER WANTED TO SEE ME EVERY DAY TO GET OVER MY CRISIS. NOTHING PERSONAL TO DR. PEARLMUDDER BUT I HATE HER. I HAVE HATED HER EVER SINCE THAT FIRST VISIT WHEN SHE SAID GRANDMA WAS REALLY SMART FOR A MAID. ANYWAY, CHRISTY FIRED HER SO HA! ON DR. PEARLMUDDER.
THE WORST PART OF THE MEETING WAS WHEN NECTAR QUIT. I KNOW I DON’T NEED HER, BUT I LIKE HER. I MAY HOLD A CANDLELIGHT VIGIL TO GET HER TO STAY. PLUS, AND HERE IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST PART OF ALL, THEY’RE PLANNING TO SEND ME TO FOSTER CARE!!!! NO ONE HAS COME RIGHT OUT AND SAID IT, BUT I CAN READ BETWEEN THE LINES.
TODAY AT SCHOOL, STEPHANIE TOLD THE GIRLS I WAS A FREAK. NOBODY WILL TALK TO ME. PIPPA TILBERRY POURED ELMER’S GLUE DOWN THE BACK OF MY BLOUSE. ALL IN ALL, TODAY WILL GO DOWN IN THE ANUS OF HISTORY AS A COMPLETE DISASTER. AFTER SCHOOL, I WENT STRAIGHT TO MRS. DE MILLE’S HOUSE. AS USUAL, SHE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN FEEL MY PAIN. WHEN SHE WAS LITTLE PEOPLE HATED HER FAMILY SO MUCH THAT SOLDIERS ROUNDED THEM UP AND KILLED THEM (EXCEPT FOR MRS. DE MILLE WHO MADE A DARING ESCAPE THAT SHE CAN’T TELL ME ABOUT BECAUSE IF SHE DID I’D BE A WALKING TIME BOMB). THAT CHEERED ME UP. MY PLITE IS NOTHING COMPARED TO HERS.
YOUR UNWANTED FRIEND,
RENATA
Media Massacre
Christy allowed the hot water to beat against the back of her head. Then, she let the jet stream massage her neck. As she used to do before a big race, she visualized the next few hours. At noon, the board would hold an emergency session. After all these years, it came down to this. Christy versus Katherine.
In her mind, Christy saw herself speaking calmly but firmly to the board. They would listen, nod their heads. It would soon become clear to them that she was the one best qualified to lead Baby G. There would be a vote. Everyone would congratulate Christy on her victory. They would shake her hand and smile. Meanwhile, Katherine would sit silently staring straight ahead at the conference room table. The board would leave the room, suggesting that the two ex-friends take a moment. Christy would walk over to Katherine and offer her hand. Katherine would stand up to shake it but instead of an empty hand, she would be holding a small black revolver. Christy, who had always had excellent reflexes, would knock the gun to the floor…
A pounding at the bathroom door interrupted Christy’s fantasy. She poked her head out of the shower stall.
“Beegee, hurry. Eve’s waiting downstairs. Says you should come now,” Michael called to her.
Christy dried off quickly, put on a robe, and tied her hair back in a ponytail. She rushed down to see what was so important.
Michael stood at the bottom of their stairs and handed her the new Wall Street Week. Christy’s face graced the cover and she looked…confused. Couldn’t they have chosen a more confident shot? The photographer must have taken two hundred pictures. The headline read CHRISTY
