BABY GIRL

6.

Maggie

Ana is not in her room when I get out of the bathroom, so I grab my phone to call my mom.

I don’t even know what I’m expecting. I mean, if she’ll answer or send me to voicemail like she sometimes does when she’s with a man.

But she picks up on the second ring.

“Maggie?”

“Hey… Mom.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. And you?”

“Same, hun. So I’ve packed most of our stuff,” she says after a moment. “And I’m taking them with me to Theo’s place. Is there anything you need?”

“No,” I mutter. “Everything I need’s already with me.”

There’s a pause on her end. “Good. That’s good.”

“I want to rent a room,” I say, more directly than I planned. “And I need you to stand as my guarantor.”

“No,” she declares. “You’re not living alone, Maggie.”

I close my eyes. “Mom—”

“I mean it,” she cuts in. “You’re still underage.”

“Oh, please,” I snap before I can stop myself. “Don’t pull the protective-mom card now. You let me live with a man who touched me when I was fifteen. You’re the one who left me in that house with him, remember? Don’t suddenly act like you care where I sleep.”

She goes silent.

The kind of silence that stretches. Thickens. Like shame curdling over the phone line.

“I didn’t know, Maggie.”

“You didn’t want to know.”

Another silence.

“I’m sorry,” she says, barely audible.

I feel something crack in my chest. A deep, aching thing I’ve been holding for too long.

“I just want a place where I can breathe,” I say softly. “Where I can feel safe without pretending. I’m not asking you for anything else. Just this.”

“I… I can’t,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

She probably has another reason for not being able to stand as my guarantor, but she’s not telling me about it.

I hang up.

Not because we’re done talking.

But because there’s nothing left to say.

I set the phone on the dresser and walk out of Ana’s room, and immediately I hear their voices, that kind of raised voice people use when they’re trying not to scream but failing anyway. I hear Ana. Then their dad. And then Nate.

I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I don’t need the words. I know what tension feels like because I grew up inside it. The last thing I want is to be the girl eavesdropping in someone else’s house, waiting to hear something she shouldn’t, so I’m quick to leave the corridor.

I walk to the poolside and decide to have a little fun and relaxation. I strip down and slide into the shallow end. Then I start swimming laps, slow and steady. Stroke, breathe. Stroke, breathe. It’s the only thing keeping me from losing my mind.

I don’t even realize how long I’ve been swimming until I hear the door slam. Nate comes out first, then Ana, who’s tailing after him.

“Nate, wait!” she’s calling. “Can you just stop for a second?!”

He doesn’t.

He yanks open the door to their dad’s car and gets in like it’s his.

Ana throws herself into the passenger seat just as the engine roars to life. She doesn’t even shut the door properly before he’s backing out of the driveway.

And then they’re gone.

I linger in the pool a little longer, just floating, trying to convince myself that what I heard wasn’t as intense as it sounded. But my chest feels tight, and my arms are tired, and I don’t want to go back inside.

The back door creaks open, and I quickly lift my head from the edge of the pool.

David.

He steps onto the patio like he doesn’t even realize his shirt’s half untucked, his hair mussed like he’s raked his hand through it one too many times. His eyes are on the driveway at first, but then he notices me. He nods once and walks to one of the chairs by the pool, easing down. He doesn’t say anything right away, and I don’t expect him to.

I tread water for a while before paddling to the edge near him.

“I, um… I saw them leave,” I say softly, not sure if I’m even supposed to stick my nose in their family matters. “Ana and Nate.”

David exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours. “Yeah,” he mutters. “They’re both mad at me, I believe.”

I hesitate, careful not to pry, but something about the way his shoulders slump forward makes me ask anyway.

“Is… is everything okay?”

He rubs his hands over his face, then clasps them together, elbows on his knees.

“Nate’s been off his medication,” he says finally. “I found out today. He’s been skipping doses for a while. I confronted him, and… well, this is the result.”

I wince but stay quiet, letting him speak his mind.

“He told me I was controlling him. That I didn’t get it,” David continues, his voice rasping slightly. “I tried not to push, but I guess I still did. I don’t know how to talk to him sometimes without making things worse.”

I rest my chin on the concrete, my fingers trailing through the water. “He’ll come back.”

“I know he will,” he says. “It’s Ana I’m worried about now. She said she hates it when I treat them like little kids. But I don’t know about that. I don’t know if I’m really treating them like little kids, or if I’m being unnecessarily strict and harsh.”

His jaw flexes slightly, like he’s trying to keep it together for just a little longer.

I want to say something reassuring, something that doesn’t sound hollow. But I don’t have the right words.

Instead, I say quietly, “Better a strict parent than a careless one, and honestly, I think you’re an awesome Dad. And I think they know it too. Stuff like this happens a lot in families. It’s very normal.”

He glances at me then, and his eyes soften more than before.

“Thank you, Maggie.” He says, and I know he’s being sincere.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“You can call me David, please. Just David.”

“Alright. You’re welcome, Just David.”

I watch the corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughs at my lame joke, and my heart swells a little with excitement.

At least I made him smile.