Look at You Now by Liz Pryor

it knows is the sound of your voice and the beat of your heart and the food and drinks that go down and feed it . . . when you eat.” I sat quiet for a long time. Her words were hard to hear, all this talk about the innocent baby.
    â€œOkay, I guess I should get a hotplate.”
    â€œMaybe your mom can bring one when she comes to visit. I also need to let you know that you are required to go to school here. The girls head over in the late morning and they stay until lunch. In order to meet the requirements for credit you must attend. Starting tomorrow, as you haven’t been since you arrived.”
    â€œAll right.” The lump in my throat was coming back. I really didn’t want to cry in front of this woman again.
    â€œIs it the idea of school that is upsetting you?” Ms. Graham asked.
    â€œNo, not really, it’s everything . . . sorry.” It was that there was an actual person in my body. It was trapped, I was trapped, and there was nothing I could do to change it.
    â€œI can see how difficult this is for you, and I wish I knew a way to make it easier.”
    But there was nothing anyone could do. Every minute that passed made that clearer to me. There was no way to erase this. I listened to the muffled buzzing in and out of the main door in the hallway. And then I asked Ms. Graham, “Are you a nun?”
    She laughed a little. “No, no, I’m not a nun. I’m just a social worker. Do I seem like a nun?”
    â€œYou’re calm and nice like one, I guess.”
    â€œThat’s sweet.”
    â€œWell, are there nuns here?”
    â€œThere were a long time ago, but the facility has taken on a new face since then. There are no nuns working here.”
    â€œOkay. Are we finished?”
    â€œDo you want to be?”
    â€œKind of, if that’s okay.”
    â€œThat’s fine. I’ll see you here next Tuesday, same time. Wait, I want to give you something.” She handed me a card. “You can call me anytime.” There was a drawing of a silhouette of a girl with a pregnant stomach on the side of the card, and Ms. Graham’s name and phone number.
    â€¢ • • •
    I took the long way to the phone booth on my wing.
    â€œMom?”
    â€œHi, Liz, I’m just running out to the new office.” My mom had never had a job in her life until recently. She’d gone from her parents’ house, to college, to marrying my dad and having seven children. When my parents got divorced, it wasn’t just that she had to adjust to becoming a single mom with so many children—she was also trying to run the household financially, something she had never done. She told us all the time that the money she got from our dad just wasn’t enough. And it was pretty clear as time went on that we were living a lifestyle she couldn’t afford. Dorothy had been a devoted learner, a straight-A student her entire life, and a graduate of Northwestern. I imagine she could have done anything she wanted for work, but she was now forty-seven years old, and her only real experience was raising children and running a home. She made the decision, with the encouragement of my grandfather, to go to real estate school. To try and bring in the money she needed to keep up our life. She studied, got her license, and began selling houses. In a way it was perfect. I couldn’t think of anyone who knew more about our community than Dorothy.She was an almost obnoxious North Shore enthusiast. She knew every historical fact, hidden street, secret beach, beautiful home, forest preserve, government building, and grocery store in all the surrounding areas. But to me, the most impressive part was that she also knew exactly where, and what time, and for how long, the Good Humor man would be parked with his ice-cream truck on hot summer days.
    â€œAre you okay, Lizzie? You fainted?”
    â€œYeah, I fainted. I’m fine, Mom.”
    â€œMs.