The Christmas Hope(7)

I handed the waitress Mia’s bottle and asked that she fill it with milk and warm it as quickly as possible. Mia began to cry again and I assured her that the bottle would be returning. “I’ll never understand it, Roy.”

He nodded. What I was thinking went without saying in our line of work.

“There are so many people who would love to take care of this baby.”

“I’m sure somebody will,” Roy said. I knew what he meant. Bridget would see a lengthy jail sentence this time for selling drugs and Mia would be placed in a foster home and then probably up for adoption. The waitress handed me the warm bottle and I stuck it back in Mia’s mouth. She stopped screaming.

“She’s loud but she’s cute,” the waitress said. “Your mommy’s not going to let you starve,” she said, talking to Mia. I didn’t say anything. There was no point in explaining the situation.

Roy watched the waitress leave to fill our drink order. “Now, why did she think you were Mia’s mother but she didn’t think I was her dad?”

“Look at us, Roy,” I said, patting Mia’s back. “She knows a young chick like me would never marry an old rooster like you.”

He stared at me. “There’s another reason you’re good for social work! You’re so gentle and kind. You’re what we like to call the inspiring sort.”

I laughed. I always knew which buttons to push to aggravate Roy. The waitress brought the potatoes and a spoon and I held Mia in my lap to feed her.

“I’m sorry, Mia,” I said. “I’m so sorry that you were scared.” She had no idea what I was saying but was so excited to have food that she bounced up and down in my arms as I fed her each bite. Roy and I watched her eat for several minutes.

“I’m always amazed at how sweet they are,” Roy said. “You’d think they’d be bitter but they somehow always manage to laugh.” Roy tickled Mia’s leg and she pulled it away from him, giggling.

“Year after year I keep thinking that things will change, but they don’t.”

Roy threw his arms in the air. “You keep thinking what will change? People? You think everybody’s going to wake up one day and do the right thing? That they’ll suddenly take care of their children or stop selling drugs? Things like that are never going to change as long as there are people on this planet.”

I put the bottle in Mia’s mouth. “Does your tummy feel better now, Mia?” I asked, setting her onto the table. “Huh? Does your tummy feel better?” I’m not sure what I said but she laughed at me. “Was that funny?” She flapped her arms and squealed. “If you think that’s funny you should see me when I’m really on,” I said, picking her up. “I can bring the house down.” She laughed again and tried to put the bottle back into her mouth. I motioned for the waitress to bring more milk. Roy filled the bottle and handed it to me. I guided it into Mia’s mouth and she went heavy in my arms, content to rest there for the remainder of the day.

“See, I told you your mommy wouldn’t let you starve,” the waitress said, squeezing Mia’s leg as we stood to leave. I thanked the waitress and wrapped the blanket around Mia as we left the restaurant.

We drove to Guy and Sandra Michaels’ house and left Mia with Sandra. I went back to the office to file my report. At the end of the day I could hear everyone talking about their Christmas plans. I kept working, hoping they would leave me out of all the “Are you staying in town or going away for Christmas” conversations, and they did. Throughout the years the office staff knew to leave me alone. Everyone, that is, except Roy.

“Is Mark working on Christmas, Patti?”

I sighed. I knew I couldn’t escape it. Roy had asked me to spend Christmas with his family for the last three years but each time I declined.

“I don’t know.”

He knew I was lying. Mark had worked the last two Christmases. Why would this one be any different?

“When you find out, let me know. Barbara’s coming over. All the kids and grandkids, too. Everybody would love to see you. Barbara’s bringing over a huge bird. We’ll have plenty of food to go around.”

I gathered my things and handed Roy a small gift I had wrapped for him, a leather journal with his name engraved on it.

“I didn’t get you anything,” he said, sounding more frustrated than grateful.

“I don’t need anything,” I said, putting on my coat. I hugged Roy good-bye before he had a chance to open the gift. “Have a great Christmas.” I headed for the elevator doors so I could make a quick getaway. I drove home, entered our empty house alone, closed the door, and tried to imagine how anyone could look forward to the holidays.