Julie gnawed on her bottom lip. She thought about the damage just done to her brother's credit card account as she towed a white paper bag, stuffed with new clothes, through the crowded aisles of the department store. She fought through the aisles, feeling a bit like a salmon trying to swim its way up upstream through a river of shuffling feet and flailing elbows.
The day before Labor Day sales had brought countless shoppers to the mall, many of whom regarded bargain hunting as a competitive sport. For the most part she was confronted by families. The children of those families could be divided into two distinct camps, the disinterested and the disgusted. Both camps took measured steps, their shoes weighted by lead, iron and assorted heavy metals, making it clear that all were crossing the final Ts on a respectable wardrobe for tomorrow's first day of school.
There were droves of such children, from preschoolers to teenagers. Some were only a year or so younger than Julie's nineteen, but in light of the events that had transpired over the summer, she felt like a sage and battletested adult when compared to the shallow and sallow teenagers who drifted about.
She recognized a boy that had been in her algebra class last year. Was it Kevin or Devon? Julie was embarrassed to realize she no longer remembered his name. He offered a shy wave from across a rack of dress pants and an even shier "Hello".
For the briefest of moments Julie Martin the carefree, teenaged high school student was resurrected. She flashed her small, white teeth in a smile that made the boy turn pink. She had turned a lot of boys a lot of colors with that smile, but she was no longer interested in any of
them
. Only one man deserved to see her smile.
Rick, her big brother. They were together now. Together. She thought it strange that such a simple word could bring color to her cheeks.
Anytime she felt lonely, and that had happened many times in the past seven days, he was there, doing his best to fill the void that had been created by the sudden loss of mother, father and home.
An entire way of life, an easy and comfortable way, had been lost. The fact that she was nineteen, a woman of such short tenure, made coping all the more difficult. She surely would have crawled home to her parents like a worm, if not for Rick's understanding. He had been everything she needed: a friend, lover and most importantly a fiercely loyal and protective big brother. She only prayed that he would retain all of those qualities once he noticed the changes that were occurring within her body.
Her stomach grumbled. She reached into the leather purse dangling from her shoulder and unwrapped a raisin granola bar, ate half, then rewrapped and returned the uneaten portion.
Such disturbances had been occurring for a while now, bouts of nausea that she blamed on the most convenient excuse, be it greasy food, stress or the occasional stomach virus. Excuses had been enough to alleviate Rick's worries but she couldn't keep lying to him forever. Eventually he would realize what it meant when she spent early mornings on her knees, retching into the white, porcelain toilet.
Her most wonderful dream and fiercest nightmare had been brought to life by the results of a home pregnancy test, a test she had taken in secret two nights ago. Second and third opinions were needed, so she bought every brand of over the counter test she could afford. Each time the results were the same, a positive test and Julie hunched over the yellowed tile of the bathroom sink, her warm tears mixing with the faucet water.
A screeching scream focused Julie's attention on a rack of earth-toned autumn jackets. Three small children, all boys under five, giggled, screamed, wrestled and crawled beneath the racks of hanging outerwear. Their harried mother clung to the straps of a green canvas handbag and stomped the filthy tiled floor with a high heeled foot. She begged the boys to be still.
A tall, weedy man, presumably the father, yanked the oldest boy from beneath the rack of jackets. He delivered a swat to the boy's bottom, not a vicious blow, but it was enough to send a stinging message. Julie involuntarily clenched her own buttocks, remembering how effective such messages had been when delivered by the hand of her own parents.
The boy rubbed his backside while the father wrangled the two younger brothers. He commanded them to behave, unless they wanted to receive a similar punishment.
She thought about Rick, imagining him in the role of disciplinarian. Someone so patient and gentle could never do anything to harm a child. Their children would be more spoiled than some of the things in Lance's refrigerator. Julie bit the corner of her lip to preempt a smile. She turned and sighed. Her brother would make such a wonderful father, if only he would realize it.
Julie wandered through the petites section and found herself, not accidentally, amongst maternity clothes. She pulled a white top from the clearance rack. The short-sleeved linen top looked strikingly similar to one she already owned, sharing the same feminine lines with one major exception, room at the waist designed to accommodate the expanding abdomen of an expecting mother.
She considered buying the top but imagined Rick finding it amongst her wardrobe; that wasn't the way she wanted him to find out. She hung the top back on the rack and retreated from the maternity section just as a woman pushed a squeaky-wheeled stroller past Julie's toes. The woman paused, she peered at Julie for just a moment, then continued on her way.
A stroller, a baby stroller. Julie followed the woman through electronics, around hardware and beyond large appliances, always keeping her distance and behaving as discreetly as possible. She felt compelled to steal a glimpse at one of the beautiful little things that grew inside her, a real live baby.
She was not discreet enough. The stroller wheels ceased their squeaking motions partway through the kitchen gadgets as the mother abruptly stopped and turned around. Julie froze at first, unsure of how quickly the woman would scream for security. She grabbed the nearest item on display, a package of surgical steel knives, and pretended to read the lifetime sharpness guarantee.
She felt like melting into the cracked tile floor. The woman surely thought Julie was some kind of wacko, the package of steak knives clutched in her hands only enhanced that image.
Julie felt the eyes of the woman roam across her body, undoubtedly recording each feature and detail, making the police sketch artist's job that much easier. Her face would be on TV tonight, John Walsh would urge the entire country to be on the lookout.
"Julie?" the woman asked, speaking in a husky, but familiar, voice.
Julie blinked a few times and studied the woman, a woman who was younger than her inflated body had first suggested. She could never forget the distinct smile that greeted her, specifically the quarter-inch gap between the front teeth. It was her former classmate Tracy Adkins.
Tracy had been in her biology and English classes during junior year, before abruptly disappearing. Her friends had said Tracy dropped out of school the week before final exams. There had been rumors as to why she dropped out, of course, most speculated that she and her boyfriend had gotten in trouble together. But those kind of rumors always made the rounds in high school.
Julie never believed that studious Tracy Adkins had become a teenage pregnancy statistic. Yet, there she was, baby in tow.
"Tracy!? What happened to you?" Julie rarely asked such dumb questions.
"He did." Tracy motioned to the stroller. An infant boy sat half asleep, holding aloft a head much too large for his diminutive body.
Julie used her fingers to hide a giggle as the baby slumped against the padded back of the stroller seat. He was so adorable, like a doll come to life.
"This is my little Taylor." Tracy kneeled in front of the stroller and smoothed the wispy golden hairs that sprouted from the baby's otherwise smooth scalp.
Julie pursed her lips. She felt a pang deep within her chest as she studied the baby's half-closed, brown eyes. Was she capable of producing something so wonderful? She shut her eyes for just a moment and saw herself pushing a stroller. She imagined a little baby boy, his head capped with dark hair, his eyes a deep blue every bit as soulful as his father's.
She opened her eyes and felt another pang, located not in her chest but in her stomach. A sound like the baying of wolves penetrated her abdomen, a low, primal rumble that demanded sustenance.
"You sound like you're as hungry as I am," Tracy said, "would you like to join us for a snack?"
Julie nodded and within minutes she found herself in the middle of the noisy food court, seated in front of a giant bean burrito and a heaping dish of chocolate ice cream. She took a bite of each; the dissimilar flavors meshed together to satisfy her strange craving.
Tracy chattered about some mutual friends while she picked at a Romaine salad. Julie wasn't really paying attention, reserving her focus more for the baby's deep set eyes than whatever Tracy was talking about. "You're so lucky," Julie found herself saying. She licked a bit of refried beans from her finger.
Tracy snickered as she popped a cherry tomato into her mouth. "Lucky? My parents want nothing to do with me. They're ashamed, Julie; do you have any idea what that feels like?"
