Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
As Naomi reaches for a can of formula beside a gallon jug of drinking water, I feel Spade’s hand on my lower back. The sound of her scraping the bottom of the can has the power to bring a sting of unshed tears to my eyes.
It’s obvious she’s trying with this child the best she possibly can, but deep down I know it’s not good enough. Almost and nearly aren’t words you can associate with raising a child. Nearly warm enough doesn’t count. Almost healthy doesn’t work.
“Naomi,” I whisper, pained beyond measure when my cousin turns around with tears of her own in her eyes.
“I thought I’d have enough to last until the end of the month,” she says softly, dumping a scant half scoop of formula into a clean, empty bottle.
I dig into my purse and pull out all the cash I have, laying it on the dresser beside the jug of water. As Naomi’s eyes land on the money, I already know I’m going to have to go to the store and buy the things this child needs. I can see the struggle in her eyes, how she wants to use it for her child, but addiction claws at her throat as well.
I have no idea how much drugs a hundred dollars can buy but it’s obvious by the added tremble in her hands that it’s enough for what she needs.
“If Tony were here, things would be easier,” she mutters, fisting the money before shoving it into the front pocket of her sweatshirt.
“Why don’t you call Aunt Laylah?”
Naomi backs away like I’ve slapped her in the face.
“I don’t need your fucking help.”
The baby whimpers at her outburst, and my cousin does her best to console the child with soft but erratic pats to her back.
“I’m going to go,” I tell her, knowing I’m only causing more stress by being in her face. There’s nothing I can say right now that will fix any of this.
Naomi doesn’t say a word as I walk out of the room and Spade stays silent as we walk back to the car. The second we’re pulling out of the long driveway, I place a call to my aunt. I don’t know how much she knows about Naomi’s situation but it can’t be much. Aunt Laylah would never stand silent while her grandchild was being raised in those conditions.
I leave a message for my aunt with very limited details, my hands shaking with worry about what could happen in the time it takes for me to get all of this figured out.
I’m still going to have to put the house up for sale. There’s no way I can work out a deal that will make that place safe for a child.
I’m trying to work through my limited options, each one worse than the next when I look up and see that we’re parked in front of a local grocery store. I want to cry all over again because I didn’t even have to express my needs out loud for this man to understand what I needed to do.
I want to thank him for being so perceptive, but he climbs out of the car before I get the chance.
Chapter 12
Spade
I’m only biding my time as I walk around the car to open Sylvie’s door.
She knows as much as I do that the baby can’t stay in those conditions. I also know the words social services aren’t going to go over very well. She said it herself—Naomi is an asshole, but she’s still family. She may not have had any contact with that woman since they were teens, but she’s also not going to get a government agency involved either. She proved that when she called her aunt, presumably Naomi’s mom, first instead of the police.
Is she aware of the dangers of feeding an infant severely watered-downed formula? Because I do. I saw it numerous times in poor villages while serving in the Marine Corps. I’ve witnessed firsthand seizures in infants that have serious electrolyte imbalances due to that very thing.
If that aunt doesn’t call back today, I’ll be the one to call social services. Although that won’t go over well with Sylvie nor Naomi, their feelings on the matter don’t concern me. That innocent baby needs more than what she’s being given, and I have very serious doubts that Naomi is going to use the cash given to her for that innocent child. She snatched it up like she was already imagining lighting up whatever pipe she smokes her dope out of.
Sylvie doesn’t make eye contact with me as she climbs out of the car, so I don’t bother saying a word either. I can tell she’s just as shaken as I am at what she saw in the house. If I had to guess, she had no idea Naomi even had a child and was thrown for a loop at finding out.