Good Luck, Ms. Livingston

Simone

“Kidnapping?” I repeated softly. “I waited two days. I didn’t touch, nurse, or name her. I didn’t even want to look at her. I waited for him to show up. I’m sympathetic, but what happened to him is not my fault. His time was up, and I stepped in.” I picked up the contract. “I took care of her and loved her. As I said, I’m sympathetic and will be happy to let him see his daughter and be in her life, but she’s not just some kid I gave birth to anymore.” I tore the contract in half and pushed the papers across the table. “Nori’s my child, and you’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands. I’ll never stop fighting for her.”

Mr. Baker lost his air of nervousness and took his glasses off with a heavy sigh. “This is an extenuating circumstance, Ms. Livingston. Mr. Powell is grateful that you took such good care of Nori. But she was never yours. The time has come, Ms. Livingston. You have to return her to her biological parent. I hope you say your goodbyes.” He stood and gathered his briefcase. “Please excuse me. I’ll see myself out.”

“Do you have any children, Mr. Baker?” I asked.

He glanced back at me. “Yes.”

I smiled. “What would you do if you were me?”

He closed his eyes and turned his back to me. “Good luck, Ms. Livingston.”

***

I glanced down at the torn copy of the cursed contract that kept me imprisoned in this cruel game where the odds were never in my favor.

Simone Livingston will have no parental—

I looked away. I couldn’t torture myself further. I abandoned the kitchen for my bed. Nori wasn’t gone yet, but there was a hole in me—always had been until Nori—but with her gone, that hole would turn into a crater.

My baby will be taken from me. I want to be optimistic, but optimism isn’t realistic right now.

Nori’s cries propelled me out of bed. My feet touched the thin beige carpet, but I couldn’t move. It was as if my feet were stuck like flypaper. All my energy escaped out of the house with Mr. Baker.

“Come on, Simone. She’s still here. You still have to fight,” I encouraged myself. I shuffled to Nori’s nursery and found her standing in the bed with her hands around the bars for support. She squealed and bounced up and down upon seeing me.

“Mama, Mama, Mama,” she repeated before blowing a raspberry.

I plastered a fake smile on my face. “Well, good morning to you, too, love bug. Are you hungry?” Her response was more raspberries. I felt her pull up and perked up when she was dry. “Let’s go to the potty first,” I said, sweeping her into my arms. We made it just in time. I did the happy potty dance while she smiled and clapped at my antics.

Moments later, she was cleaned up and propped up in her high chair.

“You probably don’t know my name. My name is Simone, but you’ll probably forget,” I sighed as I cut her breakfast fruit in front of her. I watched her little fingers pick up the little bits of strawberries. “Your name is Nori. And…and you like Mary J. Blige and Ms. Rachel on YouTube. I’m your mother. I always will be.” Nori doesn’t dispute those facts while she eats. I smiled and watched her. “No matter what, I’ll always love you.”