Baby Alicia Is Dying (10 page)

“That’s not the way you hang tinsel. You have to drape it carefully across each branch.” Tamara demonstrated by placing a single strand of tinsel over the partially decorated tree standing in the ChildCare living room.

“We’ll be here all night if we do it that way,” Sadie fussed, but she followed Tamara’s example.

Desi stood back and surveyed their handiwork. The giant spruce filled the bay window, and its fragrance mingled with those coming from the kitchen, where the volunteers and staff of ChildCare had gathered for a small Christmas party. “I think the tree looks fabulous,” she announced.

Sadie harumphed, while Tamara rehung a clump of tinsel. “It’s getting there,” Tamara insisted.

“Are you all still fiddling with that tree?” Gayle asked, breezing into the room. “It’ll be July before you get it finished at this pace,” she joked. Dwayne groped for a glass ball, but Gayle held him back. “No way, buster.”

Desi jiggled the infant walker at her feet, where Alicia sat. Desi stooped and rubbed noses with the
baby. The infant craned her neck to see the tree. “You like that tree, darling?”

Alicia’s tiny hand reached upward, as if to snare the glittering light beams. “There’s a present under it just for you,” Desi told her. Alicia kept her eyes on the tree, and Desi scooted across the rug and retrieved the silver foil box she’d wrapped the baby’s red velvet dress in.

She held the box in front of the walker, and Alicia studied it for a moment, then tugged at the blue-and-silver bow. Desi laughed. “Not yet, sweetie. You have to wait until Christmas.”

Tamara crouched next to her on the carpet. “What did you buy her?” Desi described the dress in great detail, and Tamara exclaimed, “Sounds gorgeous.”

“There’s room for her to grow too, so she should be able to wear it for quite some time.” Because of the reading she was doing, Desi knew that Alicia was both underweight and small for her age, as were most HIV-positive babies.

“By next Christmas it’ll be out of fashion and you’ll buy her something new,” Tamara kidded as she draped tinsel over her ears and shook her head to make it dance. Alicia laughed.

“I bought her a baby book too.”

“That’s a neat idea. Maybe I’ll get one for Heather.”

“I thought Gayle could help me fill in the blanks.”

“What’s Santa going to bring Desi for Christmas?” Tamara asked as she placed the gift back under the tree for Desi.

“Clothes, I guess. You know, the usual.”

“Me too. At least I hope so. You’re lucky that you don’t have a bunch of sisters competing for Santa’s bag.”

“No, just Valerie,” Desi said, but couldn’t help thinking about Matthew Jeremy. What would she have given to a sixteen-year-old brother?

“Well I know one thing I wish Santa would give me for Christmas,” Tamara continued. “I wish he’d give me a boyfriend.”

She sounded so emphatic that Desi giggled. “Why?”

“Come on, girl! Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want someone special putting goodies into your Christmas stocking.”

Still amused, Desi shook her head. “No way. I’ve got big plans for
my
life.”

“You don’t want to get married?”

“Not particularly.”

“But I’ve seen you with Alicia. Don’t tell me you don’t want a baby!”

Desi didn’t know how to answer her. In the months she’d been a volunteer at ChildCare, she’d felt things she’d never expected to feel. “All these babies are mine. And I didn’t have to get married to have them.”

Tamara rolled her eyes. “Talk about vicarious living!”

Both girls erupted into laughter. Alicia glanced from one to the other, squealing and waving her hands. Desi hugged her impulsively.

Gayle came over to where they were sitting. “What’s making the three of you so happy?”

“Christmas cheer,” Desi answered.

“Why don’t you all come into the kitchen for a minute. We’ve just made some hot apple cider, and there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Desi hauled Alicia from the stroller, and cuddling her close, followed Tamara and Gayle into the brightly lit kitchen. People stood in clusters, drinking cider and munching decorated cookies. The sweet smells of sugar and cinnamon tickled Desi’s nose.

“I want you to meet a friend of mine, Elizabeth Harris. She’s a reporter for the
Atlanta Journal.”
Gayle named the city’s largest newspaper and motioned to an attractive young blond woman.

“Hi.” Elizabeth shook both girls’ hands and made a fuss over Alicia. “Gayle tells me you’re both volunteers. I’d like to interview and photograph you for a feature story I’m doing for next Sunday’s edition of the paper. Would you mind?”

Desi exchanged glances with Tamara. “I’d love it,” Tamara said eagerly. Desi was hesitant as she considered her mother’s possible reaction.

Gayle touched her shoulder. “Now I know I
fussed at you about bringing strangers into the house a few weeks ago, but Liz is no novice. She’s been covering the medical scene in Atlanta for years.”

“It’s okay,” Desi started, realizing Gayle couldn’t possibly know her true reason for vacillating.

“It’s just that we depend so much on community support,” Gayle continued earnestly. “It goes beyond caring for the babies. We have to maintain the house and the grounds, as well as look to the future. One day we’ll need playground equipment for these kids.”

“Since Christmas is the perfect time for giving—” Elizabeth added with a happy shrug, “Gayle thought a feature story would help bring in more money and helpers. But reporters always look for a good angle, and I think a feature on you two—on kids helping babies—would be a terrific approach. What do you say?”

If it would help ChildCare and Alicia, Desi knew she couldn’t refuse. Besides, Tamara was practically bursting to be interviewed. “Good,” the attractive reporter said when both girls nodded. “While I’m interviewing you, Dave here will take some photos.”

Stuffing the remains of a cookie in his mouth, the photographer began snapping photos. For the next twenty minutes Desi and Tamara answered dozens of questions, and by the time they were through,
Alicia had fallen fast asleep on Desi’s shoulder. “I guess I need to get her to bed,” she told Elizabeth.

“I guess you do,” Elizabeth said as Dave took one final photo.

Gently Desi carried the sleeping baby into her bedroom, laid her down, and covered her with her favorite flannel blanket. A night light glowed from the wall, thrusting shadows away from the crib with its pale yellow hue.

Alicia’s eyelids fluttered open, and when the baby saw Desi’s face, they swept downward and closed in peaceful sleep. Desi caressed the soft cheek lovingly and tiptoed from the room with the sweet scent of baby’s breath clinging to her heart.

   “Can I eat lunch with you?” Corrine asked above the noise in the school cafeteria.

Desi stopped chewing and glanced up from the book she was reading, surprised. “Suit yourself,” she said, and went back to her book.

“I saw the article in the newspaper. It was pretty interesting.”

“Thanks.” She continued to chew without looking up. Actually she’d known she’d been a topic of conversation in the halls all morning.

“Some of my friends told me they thought it was pretty awesome. Not just the article, but the volunteering bit too.” Corrine toyed with the food on her plate as she spoke.

“I think that the reporter did a good job of explaining about the babies,” Desi said, skimming a page in her book without really reading the words. “Especially about what’s probably ahead for them if they contract AIDS.”

“Yes. The story sure was informative.”

Desi finally looked up at Corrine. “Do you want something special?”

Her old friend reddened. “I’ve been sort of missing you, that’s all.” Desi arched an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. “I haven’t been much of a friend lately. I admit I was put off by your volunteer work. That and the fact that my mother had an anxiety attack when she heard you worked with AIDS babies. She didn’t want me hanging around with you.”

“You could have said something to me and been honest instead of ignoring me. Our friendship should have counted for
something.”

“You’re right. I should have.” Corrine looked miserable, and Desi’s iciness toward her was almost thawing. “I’m really sorry, Desi. I should have been a better friend, and I was hoping we could still be friends.”

“What about Randy, the love of your life?” Desi wasn’t sure she was ready to completely forgive Corrine.

“We’re history.”

All around them the lunchroom clattered with the sounds of trays and silverware, of talking and laughter, but between them there was silence. Desi
broke it. “I’m still working with Alicia. Nothing’s changed in that way.”

“The baby in the article—yes. Alicia’s pretty cute.”

“So I still won’t have the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval for your mother’s benefit. How’s she going to react if we start hanging around together again?”

“Mom read the article too, and I think she understands better.” Desi wished her own mother understood better. When she’d read the article, all she’d done was moan about how everybody in town would know about her daughter’s association with AIDS. It really hurt knowing that her mother cared more about what people thought than about Desi’s feelings. Her dad had acted better—even proud of her. Brian had been great. The moment she’d come into biology class that morning, he’d smiled and given her a thumb’s-up signal.

Corrine asked, “What do you say? Can we be friends again?”

“What about all your new friends? I know they’re important to you.”

Corrine nodded. “Yes, they are. But can’t I have both?”

The question sounded sincere, and Desi realized that both she and Corrine had changed over the past few months. Had she been insensitive to Corrine all this time? So caught up in her own interests that she had ignored her longtime friend’s needs? If
they were truly friends, then couldn’t their friendship survive their each having other interests?

“Yes, you can,” Desi said slowly. “In fact I think it’s a good idea for both of us. I’m sorry that I got so involved in ChildCare that I forgot about other things.”

Corrine looked relieved and flashed a smile. “I really do have a ton of stuff to tell you. I’ve missed our talks.”

“I’ve missed them too. Call me. I’ll be home tonight after ten.”

When the bell rang, Desi watched Corrine hurry away. She knew they had a lot of work to do in order to feel close to each other again, but she felt better about their friendship than she had in a long, long time.

That afternoon, when Desi arrived at ChildCare, Gayle was waiting for her. “We need to talk,” Gayle told her.

“What’s wrong? Is Alicia sick?”

“She’s fine.”

“Is it Anthony?”

“Actually Anthony’s doing much better.”

Desi felt a quick moment of gratitude. “That’s good.” She asked, “Did I do something wrong again?”

Gayle shook her head. “It’s nothing like that.” She took a deep breath. “It’s just that the human resources department called me this morning to say that Alicia’s mother has asked to see her daughter.”

Desi went cold all over. “What do you mean?”

“Ever since Alicia’s birth, her mother has been in drug rehab. She’s been living in a halfway house here in Atlanta. It seems she’s been drug-free for the past six months. She never signed away her rights to her baby, and now she’s asked to meet with her.”

“But she has no right—”

Gayle squeezed Desi’s shoulder. “Honey, she has every right. She’s the baby’s mother.”

“But she hasn’t done anything for Alicia since she was born! She deserted her.”

“She was hooked on cocaine. She couldn’t do anything for Alicia.”

“Now she can just come back and say she’s fine and take Alicia away?” Desi felt sick to her stomach.

“You know that’s not the way we do things. For starters, she can’t simply say she’s fine and get her baby back. She must prove it. Remember, I told you at the beginning that the human resources people carefully supervise all visits. A social worker will bring Alicia to an arranged location, where she will allow the mother an hour alone with her baby.”

Desi fidgeted with a sofa pillow while Gayle
talked. “Also, there would be many such visits over a course of time before the baby could return to the mother. Even if the mother is allowed to keep the baby, there would be follow-up visits and close monitoring of the situation.”

Gayle lifted Desi’s chin with her forefinger. “We all want what’s best for the baby, don’t we? And Alicia does, after all, have a mother.”

“If her mother takes her back, where will she live?” Desi could hardly get the question out.

“In the halfway house, for the time being. Then, whenever Alicia’s mother gets on her feet, gets a job and all—well, anywhere she wants to live.”

“When is the meeting?” Desi hoped her question sounded casual and not as panicked as she felt.

“This coming Saturday. I’ll drive Alicia downtown, where the social worker assigned to her mother will pick her up and take her over to the halfway house. If it’s a sunny day, there’s a park across the street, and that’s where the meeting will take place. Otherwise it will be at the human resources offices.”