Towelhead (37 page)

“What?” Melina said.

“Your pants.”

She looked down. “Oh my God.”

Daddy turned away quickly.

“Okay,” the paramedic with the salts said, standing up from his kneeling position. “Time to go to the hospital.”

“Okay,” Melina said, sounding nervous.

Both paramedics went to the back of the ambulance to get the stretcher. “Want me to call Gil?” I asked Melina.

“There's no time,” she said. “We'll call him from the hospital.”

“I can call him,” Daddy said. “Before I go to work.”

“You're going to work?” Melina said.

“It's almost seven o'clock,” Daddy said. That was when he left every day.

Melina looked at him. “You're not coming with us?”

“Me?” Daddy said.

She nodded. “Gil might not make it to the hospital in time.”

“You'll have Jasira,” Daddy said. “Jasira will go with you.”

Melina seemed like she was going to cry. “I can't believe you're not coming!”

Daddy looked at her. He looked at me. I didn't know what to tell him. It was hard to say no to Melina. It was hard because when she really wanted you to do things her way, that was when you most felt like she liked you. So when Daddy changed his mind and said okay, he would go and get his car, that was when I knew it for sure, that he cared what she thought.

 

In the ambulance, the paramedic with the stethoscope stayed in back with us, monitoring Melina's heartbeat. As we drove, her contractions started to come faster, and she squeezed my hand until they passed. It actually kind of hurt, but I didn't want to make her feel bad by saying so. She kept telling the paramedic that she wanted to push, and he told her she had to wait until we got to the hospital.

“Why?” she said. “Don't you know how to deliver a baby? I'm sure they train y'all to deliver babies!”

“I do know how, ma'am,” the paramedic said. “You're just not ready yet. Try to hold on.”

“How do you know?” she said. “You haven't even examined me.”

“Ma'am?” he said. “We really are very close to the hospital.”

Melina didn't say anything, just grabbed my hand and huffed her way through another set of contractions. Out the back window, I could see Daddy following us in his Honda. I waved to him at a stoplight, and he waved back. When Melina finished her contraction, she turned to me and said, “You know you're not supposed to talk to that man. Why did you talk to him?”

For a second, I thought she meant Daddy. Then I realized she was talking about Mr. Vuoso. “I wanted to give him Snowball,” I said, “before he went to jail.”

“I don't care what you wanted to give him,” she said. “You live with me now, and you'll do what I say. When I tell you not to talk to someone, I expect you to listen.”

I noticed that ever since I'd said the word
jail,
the paramedic had turned his back on us as much as he could in the cramped space and had started filling out some paperwork on a clipboard. I wished I could tell Melina that Mr. Vuoso had called the ambulance for her, but I was pretty sure she would just say that any idiot could pick up the phone. So instead I said, “Sorry.”

“I'm punishing you,” Melina said. “After I have this baby, you're getting punished.”

“Do I have to go back to Daddy's?” I asked.

“No!” she said. “Not that kind of punishment. You're going to have to wash extra dishes or something.”

“Okay,” I said.

She had another contraction then, and I liked how hard she squeezed my hand this time, like she was trying to hang on to me.

 

At the hospital, Daddy had to find a parking place, while Melina and I got out at the emergency room entrance. A Mexican nurse named Rosario met us just inside the automatic doors. She told the paramedics to follow her, and we wheeled past all the people sitting in the waiting room, then through a set of double doors. It wasn't actually a room they put Melina in, but a space sectioned off with curtains. The paramedics took down one side of the stretcher, then lifted Melina onto her new bed, which was shorter than the stretcher. They made jokes about how much she weighed, and she laughed until another contraction started to come.

Rosario worked very quickly, rolling Melina one way, then another, as she took all her clothes off. She did the same procedure to dress Melina in a gown, then gave her a sheet to stretch across her stomach. I wasn't sure why she did that until she went to the foot of the short table and pulled out two foot holders. When she took each of Melina's feet and stuck them in the holders, her legs were wide open. Without the sheet to cover her, everyone could've seen everything.

I'd grabbed Melina's purse before we left in the ambulance, and now she told me to take out her wallet and get some change to call Gil. There was a pad and paper on the table at her bedside, and she wrote his number down for me. “Tell him to hurry up,” she said. “And find your father.” I nodded and took the paper. As I left the room, I noticed the nurse putting on a rubber glove and rolling a stool between Melina's open legs.

The pay phones were out by the waiting room. Gil was in a meeting, but when I told his secretary what was happening, she said she would go and get him. After a moment, he came to the phone and said, “Jasira? Is Melina okay?”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “But you better hurry. She wants to push.”

“Already?” he said. “She's that close?”

I was too ashamed to tell him it was my fault that everything was happening so fast, without any time for him to get here. “Yes,” I said.

“Okay,” he said. “Tell her I'm on my way.”

I told him I would and hung up. Just then Daddy walked in. He looked around the waiting room like he didn't know what to do. “Daddy,” I called.

He saw me and walked over to the phones.

“Melina is in a room,” I said. “C'mon, I'll show you.”

“I'll just wait here,” he said.

“But she wants you to come.”

“Why?”

“Because Gil isn't here yet.”

“I have to call work,” Daddy said. “They'll wonder where I am.”

“But Melina is almost ready to push.”

“Well,” he said, “come out and tell me when she's finished.”

“I don't think she'll like that,” I said.

“I'm not watching her have a baby,” Daddy said. “It's none of my business.”

“But you told her you'd come.”

“I told her I'd come to the hospital. Not her room.”

“I think she really wants to have a grown-up there.”

Daddy sighed. “I'll go and say hello. That's all. Then she'll have to wait for her husband. He's coming, isn't he?”

I nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Hopefully there won't be too much traffic.”

“She's behind those doors,” I said, pointing, and since he wasn't moving, I took his hand and led the way.

 

When we got to the room, Melina was telling an older nurse I hadn't seen before that she really wanted to push. “Not quite yet,” the nurse said. “Just hang on.”

The nurse walked out and I said, “Gil is on his way.”

“Good,” Melina said.

“I'll just stay for a moment,” Daddy said. He glanced at Melina's feet in the holders, then looked away.

“Didn't you see Jasira's birth?” she asked.

Daddy shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Those were different times.”

Melina laughed. “They were not! It was only thirteen years ago!”

“So?” Daddy said. “Thirteen years is a long time.”

Melina sighed. The hospital was air-conditioned, but her face was sweaty from the pain of the contractions. “You really can't stay?” she said.

“I'd rather not,” Daddy said.

Melina didn't say anything, just looked disappointed.

“Jasira will stay,” Daddy said. “That will be much better for you.” He looked at me then and said, “She's a good girl.”

“Yes,” Melina said, “she is.”

I didn't know what to do with the two of them talking about me like that, so I looked at the clock on the wall behind Melina's head. A moment later, she started having a contraction, and I went and stood by her so she could hold my hand. By the time it was over, Daddy had left. “What a chicken,” she said.

“He doesn't like bodies,” I told her.

“I guess not.”

Gil didn't make it in time to see Dorrie get born. But I saw her get born. I saw Melina push her out, along with all the other stuff that came with her. They cleaned her up and weighed her, and since Gil wasn't there, they let me cut the umbilical cord. Afterward, they put a gauze pad over the stump. When it healed, it would become her belly button. I hadn't known that. Not until that very moment. I also hadn't known that when I first saw Dorrie, I wouldn't feel jealous. Not at all. Not even when Melina started crying. Dorrie made me cry, too. She was very small and tired, and I knew it was only right to love her.

This book took three years to write. During that time, I leaned heavily on Holly Christiana, Nina de Gramont, Ben Greenman, and Bill Kravitz. I thank each of them for their love and friendship.

For their invaluable support, I thank Deborah Ballard, Neizka Ebid, Stephen Elliott, Faulkner Fox, Don Georgianna, David Gessner, Carol and Georges de Gramont, Hania Jakubowska, Alison Lester, Toby Lester, Laura Maffei, Giovanna Marchant, Michael Martin, Gunther Peck, Linda Peckman, Melissa Pritchard, Martin Rapalski, Cory Reynolds, Samantha Schnee, Barbara Schock, Alissa Shipp, Jeremy Sigler, Lisa Stahl, Terry Thaxton, and John and Ann Vernon. Thanks also to Gail Ghezzi, Daniel, and Jake, my surrogate Brooklyn family.

My editor at Simon & Schuster, Marysue Rucci, bought this book both unfinished and in an entirely different form. She offered a few incredibly pertinent suggestions, then turned me loose to finish the job. I ended up tossing the hundred pages she bought and starting over. I thank her immensely for bearing with me on this, and most of all, for her great trust.

I am very grateful to Mary-Anne Harrington, my editor at Hodder/Headline in the UK, who bought this book before it was even an idea. Never once has she mentioned the fact that I delivered it to her two years late.

Thank you to my publicists at Simon & Schuster: Victoria Meyer, Tracey Guest, and Kristan Fletcher. They have each, without reserve, thrown their weight behind this book, and I feel lucky to be working with them.

I very much appreciate the constant support I receive from Tara Parsons at Simon & Schuster, and Leah Woodburn at Hodder/Headline. As well, I would like to thank Loretta Denner at Simon & Schuster for her expert production editing, and Nora Reichard, my equally wonderful copy editor.

A huge thanks to Jesse Holborn at Hodder/Headline, who did such an incredible job designing the book. Thanks also to Jackie Seow and Davina Mock at Simon & Schuster for their patience and sharp modifications.

Thank you to Tony Peake at Peake Associates, who continues to provide help and encouragement from across the pond.

Chapter 4 of this book was written in Seaside, Florida, where I was given a residency through the Seaside Institute's Escape to Create Program. I would like to thank everyone at the Institute, most especially Peter Horn, Marsha Dowler, Nancy Holmes, Richard Storm, and Don and Libby Cooper, who loaned me their gorgeous house for a month. Thanks also to Susan Horn, Peter Jr., and Tennyson, who welcomed me like family.

I thank my in-laws—Margery Franklin, Mark Franklin, and Diane Garner—for helping to underwrite this book. It would've taken so much longer to finish had I not gotten to work on it full-time.

Thank you to Joy for always seeing me through.

Thank you to Aunt Suzie and Uncle Conrad, who really mean it when they say that their home is also mine.

Shortly after I finished this book, Howie Sanders and Andrew Cannava at United Talent Agency showed it to Alan Ball, who then optioned it. Whether or not the film gets made, I thank each of them for their intense commitment. I also want to thank Joe Regal, Bess Reed, and Lauren Schott at Regal Literary for welcoming me so warmly into their agency.

My agent, Peter Steinberg, has made good thing after good thing happen for me since I met him in 1999. He has cared about me not only as his writer, but as his friend. There is little that feels better than falling under his protective wing.

Finally, I want to thank David Franklin. We separated during the writing of this book, but never once did that stop him from doing what he has so generously done for years: paying the bills, and editing every word I write.