Cheryl St.John - Child of Her Heart

Meredith nodded.

Mauli set her paper cup on the table. “I’ve heard them all. And so have my parents.”

“Some of them are so…hurtful.”

“Yes,” Mauli agreed. “But some are just thoughtlessly curious.”

“I guess so.”

“People get uncomfortable when they can’t easily categorize you.”

Meredith thought over the girl’s remarks.

“There are five standard racial pigeonholes,” she said, holding up one hand. “If you don’t fit, you stand out. Probably the questions I heard the most while growing up were ‘Is that your dad?’, ‘Is that your mom?’ and ‘Are you adopted?’”

Meredith imagined what it must feel like for a child to hear those questions. “Last night a woman asked me where this baby came from,” she told Mauli, revealing something she’d never thought she would have shared. “The question makes it seem as though Anna is an alien or something.”

Saying the words aloud made her head buzz for a few seconds, but it was liberating to get the frustration off her chest.

Mauli studied the shop fronts and the few passing tourists. “Four-point-five million kids under eighteen in this country are multiracial,” she said matter-of-factly, impressing Meredith with her knowledge. “In some areas one out of six babies born is of two or more racial heritages. Multiracial youth is one of the fastest growing segments of our population.”

“I guess numbers don’t necessarily mean acceptance, do they?” Meredith asked.

“I would love to unscrew the top of people’s heads and zap racism with a magic laser. That and the obsessive need to put everyone in a category.” The young woman’s voice held a note of wistfulness, but not the anger with which Meredith struggled.

Meredith had never before had a straightforward conversation like this with anyone except Chaney, and Mauli’s insights touched her.

“Acceptance really has to be here,” Mauli said, touching her fingers to her shirt over her heart. “Acceptance of one’s self first. Because fitting in is a challenge. But knowing who you are is the key.”

Meredith’s throat tightened with anxiety for her child. She felt so incapable of being able to teach those things to her child that it frightened her. “I’m afraid I won’t know how to help Anna,” she managed to say as she moved Anna to her other breast.

“There are plenty of people to help you,” Mauli assured her. “I belong to a couple of college organizations now. As long as you’re willing to help her explore her racial heritage, there is guidance available.”

Mauli was wise beyond her years. “If I was underhanded, I’d steal you away from Justin to be Anna’s nanny.”

Mauli laughed. “Now that would take some doing. But we live in the same town, right? I can sure be your friend.”

Emotion welled up in Meredith’s chest and tears blurred her vision. “Thank you. You’re the first person I’ve talked to who’s given me hope that I can actually do this.”

“Someday I hope you can meet my mom and dad,” Mauli said, handing her a paper napkin.

Meredith blotted her tears. “Where are they?”

“They live in West Virginia right now. My dad’s in the air force.”

“Well, you’ve dealt with it all, military upbringing, as well. New schools and all that.”

Mauli nodded. “Name a state with an air base. I’ve probably lived there.”

Anna had finished nursing and Meredith adjusted her clothing. Mauli asked to hold the baby.

Meredith hadn’t been paying much attention to the guys, but turned now to watch them returning to shore. Justin was rowing smoothly and both boys were sitting at his feet. “He’s a great dad,” she said, thinking aloud.

Mauli agreed. “The best.”

“Do you know how his wife died?”

“A freak thing,” she replied. “A bridge collapsed and her car was on the interstate beneath it. The people in the car behind hers were killed, too. She was on her way back from shopping. Started out as a regular day, I guess.”

“How awful.”

“I never knew her. Justin hired me about a month later. The boys were still small and all of them were grieving.”

“You must have been a big help to them.”

“I hope so. Actually it’s like being in a family. I have a place to live while I go to school, and I get paid to do laundry, shop and supervise the kids. It’s good for all of us.”

An attendant helped Justin pull the boat into its moor, and the boys scrambled out and ran toward the women. “That was cool!” Jonah cried, uncharacteristically vocal. “Did you see Lamond almost tip the boat over?”

“We must have missed that,” Mauli responded. She leaned toward Meredith. “Now you know why I stayed on shore.”

Justin joined them. “I worked up an appetite. Who’s hungry?”

Jonah and Lamond responded noisily. With Anna on her shoulder, Mauli said, “It’s early enough to beat the crowds for supper.”

“Let’s go.” Justin herded them back to his Lexus and drove until he spotted a family restaurant.

He took charge of getting a table and ushering everyone into seats. Meredith was shamelessly enjoying being pampered.

“Dad, there’s a game room,” Jonah said after they’d ordered. “Can we have some quarters?”

Justin took a few one-dollar bills out of his wallet. “At the counter ask very politely for change.”

“Thanks.”

The boys took off and Mauli followed, leaving Meredith and Justin alone, except for the sleeping baby.

“Did you enjoy the afternoon?” Justin asked.

“Very much.” The waitress had brought her a club soda with a lemon slice on the rim of the glass, and she sipped the iced drink. “Thank you for introducing me to Mauli.”

“I thought you’d like meeting her.”

“You knew I needed encouragement.”

“Everyone needs encouragement.”

“You know what I mean.”

He threaded his long fingers together and placed his elbows on the table, looking at her thoughtfully. “I know.”

She could only imagine what he was wondering about her single-parent status. He was so straightforward, she wished she could share more with him. It was too much to go into so soon, and besides, she was enjoying her anonymity. “I chose to be a single parent.”

“I see. I imagined a guy who didn’t want to deal with fatherhood and cut out.”

She shook her head. “There was a guy once. But it wasn’t fatherhood he couldn’t deal with. I’m better off without him.”

“Probably. But you’re wary.”

“Yes.”

“And maybe that’s partly why you chose to have a child alone. You didn’t trust a man to stick around.”

Bingo. “Maybe.”

“So a man would really have to earn your trust to get anywhere with you.”

She didn’t have a reply, and she didn’t know if he was suggesting something or not, so she shrugged noncommittally.

“Tell me about your life,” he said. “Your family and your job.”

She waved a hand. “I don’t want to talk about my family. My job is great. As you know I work with children recovering from accidents or surgeries who have disabilities. I see a lot of special-needs kids. A couple of years ago, I got this idea that I wanted to start a camp for them, and call it Camp I Can. Some of those children want so badly to do normal things and be treated as equals.”

“What type of medical problems do these kids face?”

“The whole gamut. Kidney and liver transplants, leukemia and cancer among other things.”

Justin nodded thoughtfully. “We’re so fortunate.”

She leaned forward. “Creating something for these kids became my personal goal. I was fund-raising and doing a pretty good job of it until…well, until I had a few personal setbacks. Then the camp idea took a back seat to my pregnancy and Anna’s birth. But I’m ready to get involved again.”