Drown #11: three little birds, part 3

March 2086. Stephanie Nova and Justin Kim are 26. Willow and Lily are 4. Keri Riley is 25.

Hi, baby. Happy birthday! Did you get the violin I sent you? Tell your dad to record a video for me. I couldn’t call because we’re in the wrong time zone right now and I’ll be all tied up later, but I wanted to leave a message for you and say happy birthday. I can’t believe you’re four! What a big girl. Did you get a good cake? I can’t wait to see you next month. I bet you like to play games now, don’t you? Do you like hide and go seek? Do you like jump rope? You can tell me all about what kind of games you like, and we’ll play them together when I get down there. Love you baby! xoxo — Mom

Stephanie and Justin had an appointment for a home visit from a court-appointed social worker. They had no idea what to expect from the visit, but they figured that they should at least upgrade their camping furniture with a real sofa and chairs. They’d also just found out that the baby was due a few weeks earlier than they'd first thought. They didn’t even have a crib yet, but that would have to wait. They took a small bit of their emergency stash to buy a cheap self-assembly love seat and some real bed frames and mattresses to sleep on for the bedrooms.

"This is a really good couch," Stephanie told Justin. "I really like it. It’s so comfy and you put it together so well."

"Thanks, Steph."

About the baby, they decided that they wouldn’t mention anything to the social worker unless she asked. Stephanie was fifteen weeks along now and it wasn’t totally obvious yet.


Mrs. Blair had dinner with them before she began to ask questions. Stephanie made a garlic and basil linguine dish that Sharon had taught her. She was nervous, or maybe just very hungry, or maybe it was a really great recipe—Stephanie finished her plate long before anyone else. "Pardon me, I didn’t mean to eat that so fast."

"Momma gots to feed the baby," Lily said. "That's our little brother. He lives in her belly. He was huuuun-gry."

So much for their plan to keep the pregnancy a secret. But Mrs. Blair didn’t take down any notes about it just yet.


After they ate, the girls were excited to show off their newly furnished bedroom.

"This is a beautiful room," Mrs. Blair said. "Who plays the violin?"

"Me," Lily said. "My other momma bought it for me. She lives in space."

"That’s what I heard. And who drew this great monster?"


"Me," Willow said.

Stephanie felt nervous, like every little detail of their lives was up for scrutiny. "She doesn’t always draw monsters," Stephanie offered. "She draws cars and frogs, too."

"Can you girls do something for me? Can you both draw me some pictures while I talk to your parents about some grownup things?"

Here came the hard part.



The questions were simple at first. Is the air filter maintained? Is the property on well water or a city line? Where will the girls attend school? And then, "When is the baby due?"

She hadn’t asked it with any malice or judgment. She’d asked it just as routinely as she’d asked about the water supply.

"In August," Stephanie said, feeling like she should explain, but she didn’t know how much. "We’ll add space to the house later. There’s room to expand off the back, but for the first year we want to keep the baby in our room."

"That sounds like a good plan," Mrs. Blair said.


"Have either of the girls mentioned the day of the domestic disturbance from January?"

"No, not so far."

"Any nightmares or worries?"

"No, not about that. Just normal child worries."

"The relationship with Willow’s father is not good. To say the least. How about Lily’s mother?"


"Fine, I think," Justin said. "Or a normal amount of fine, considering we split up."

"Is she involved?"

"Involved how? Well she certainly has an opinion about everything, but that's about all. She sends gifts."

"How long has she been on the moon?"

"Um, since Lily was three months old. Minus a few weeks in 2084."

"And she's due back when?"

"She has four weeks leave next month, and then she'll go to DC and—"

"Is there a divorce in process?"

"Um, not yet, it's more like an agreement."

"Is there a visitation schedule?"

"Not really. It depends on her work, and you know, the war. We haven't really had a chance to do something like that."

"Does she pay child support?"

"Yeah. Sort of."

"Is there a court order for that?"

"Uh, no. She just sends money sometimes. Every now and then. Or, well, her dad sends it for her. Or well, her dad’s secretary actually sends it because he …"


"I see. So there's no documentation of the separation or her knowledge and consent to it at all?"

Justin tried to think of something. "I guess not, no."

Mrs. Blair was taking so many notes and so few of them were about Jeremiah. What did Jeremiah say about them? What kind of lies was he trying to poison their case with? It never occurred to them that the courts might side with Jeremiah. Was that possible? How much were they doing wrong? Was the house not good enough? Was the baby too much, too soon? Was Justin too married still to someone else?

"I know how this looks," Justin said. "Like I’m married to one woman and setting up house with another. I swear, it’s not like that at all."

"How long have you been separated from your wife?"

It was weird every time she called Keri his wife. They’d been so worried about Jeremiah for so long, Justin forgot most of the time that Keri was still legally his wife. "About two years."

"And this?" She pointed to Stephanie. "How long has this been going on?"

"Do you mean knowing each other, or living together or, you know, romantic stuff?"

Mrs. Blair offered a pinched smile and wrote something down. Probably, It’s complicated.


"Wait," Stephanie said, "I have a text from her."

Justin could only imagine what kind of texts Stephanie had from Keri or how they could possibly be of any help.

"It's a nice one," Stephanie added. "Or, it's not a mean one. It's sort of a neutral one, I guess. Not that she sends me mean ones—she really doesn’t. Which is sort of nice, considering everything that happened." Stephanie sorted through the messages. "Here, look, she just said when her leave would be and what date she’d arrive, and some stuff about the holiday pictures I sent her. Her dad comes by to visit Lily. Her mom doesn't really like me, but her mom doesn't like anyone, really. But, I mean, because you asked about whether she knew about it. She does. She, um, gave her consent."

Justin felt suddenly defensive of his whole life. "Are we doing something wrong? Because this is just how it is for us, for our family. For the girls, it's all they've ever known."


"This is all standard procedure in a custody evaluation. I just need the answers for my notes. You have a cozy home and the girls seem very happy here. You have nothing to worry about."

She had to say that, didn’t she?

When Mrs. Blair was finished with her notes, Justin saw her out.


"How do you think it went?"

"Maybe not terrible," Stephanie said. "Maybe not great, either."

—

It was an unexpected stroke of good fortune for Justin to find that most of Copper County's families attended Sharon’s Sunday brunches from time to time. He was visiting Stephanie at work there one afternoon and ran into the chairman of the Great Lakes Historical Preservation Society, who happened to remember Justin's interview distinctly. They talked about many things besides the mines, but Adam Thompson said, "I know it wasn’t quite what you were looking for, but I’m so happy you took the test. You scored one of our highest in the group. We would really love to have you on the crew."

Justin would never grow tired of hearing that he'd aced a test.

So, over French toast and mimosas, Justin accepted the job offer that he'd been doubting for weeks.


"Good luck, sweetie," Stephanie told him on the morning of his first day, handing him a lunch packed with love. "Don't break a leg, please."




The work wasn't like any job Justin ever had before, but he found himself familiar with some things and unfamiliar with other things in a way that challenged and motivated him. Before long, he found himself at the library on his way home, checking out all of the history books he could find about the Copper County mines, reading about how they thrived and how they fell and the tourism that took over once they'd closed. His brain was on fire and he was so glad that he gave the job a chance.

The promise of a paycheck at the end of the week was a relief, too.

—

Justin left for work early and he came home late. Travel time to the island, several highways and a ferry ride, took a toll on his days. Sometimes none of the girls made it up to greet him at night. Or else they'd take a little nap and stay up later to share an evening hour or two with him.

When he pulled up their long private street, he saw Willow's face pressed to the glass, waiting for him. She bounded out the door before he'd even turned off the car.

"Hey, girlie. Where is everybody?"

"It's quiet time. I wasn't sleepy. Can we look at the stars for three minutes?"

"Sure, we can."

The ground was chilly, even though the winter snow had all melted. Willow snuggled into his shoulder to keep warm. "How come your job is so far away?"

"Because it was the only one I found," Justin said. "It might not always be so far away. I might get to work in different places after we finish the mines. But the mines are really cool. Today I got to install oxygen sensors in the grotto."

"What's a grotto?"

"It's where the rocks were dug out in the mine and water filled in to make a pool."

"Can I swim in it?"

"When we’re done fixing it, you can. I'll show you all around. I'll take you down really deep where the bats live."

"Wow."

"Look up, how many stars can you count?"

"One, two, three, four, five..." Willow knew her numbers up to fifteen. "What comes after fifteen?"

"Sixteen," he said. "Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Are you excited to meet your teacher at orientation?"

"Maybe. Is she gonna be nice?"

"I bet she'll be nice."

"How come Lily can't come to kindergarten?"

"Because you'll be five this fall and she'll still be four. And because she has to stay home and help your momma with the baby. And because you have to show them how to be a big kid."

"Okay."


"Willow, you know you’re not supposed to run outside by yourself, especially not at night, especially not when your mom is asleep."

"But why not?"

"Because, what if it wasn’t me in the car?"

"If it was grandma?"

"What if it wasn’t me or grandma or grandpa?"

"Who would it be?"

"Somebody who might want to take you away from us."

"But I’m not allowed to go in other people’s cars."

"That’s right. But sometimes people..."

If Jeremiah couldn't take her the legal way, maybe he would try to take her any way he could. But that wasn't Willow's worry to bear, so Justin would bear it for her. The world was a scarier place than she could even imagine and Justin wished that he could let it stay that way for her as long as possible.

"Am I in trouble?"

"No, you're not in trouble. But I want you to remember, okay?"

"Okay."


"Do you know what to do if somebody who's not allowed tries to take you somewhere?"

"Scream really loud."

"And what else?"

"Kick really hard."

"And what do you do if you can’t kick?"

"Bite, with my chompers. Like a lion, rrrawr!"

"Good girl. Because if somebody took you and I couldn’t find you, I would miss you so much."


"How much? As big as that tree?"

"Bigger."


"All the way up to that star?"

"Way bigger."

"I’d miss you that much, too," she said.

"Come on, girlie, three minutes are up. Let’s go get a snack. I’m so hungry."

—

footnotes: the domestic disturbance // Mrs. Blair is also Libby's mom // three minutes air time

outtakes: those fortune/knowledge types // Justin made a friend // Lily's birthday // Mrs. Blair is not amused

notes: ha ha, never mind the fireflies. There is no way there would be fireflies in northern Michigan in March, but you know, TS4 doesn't have real seasons.