You Can't Break Her

Chapter sixteen: part nine | May

May 2006
Young Mothers Home
Oliver, Ontario

The black sedan pulled into the parking lot of the Young Mothers Home around seven, after having supper and talking more about the financial assistance that would kick in the next day.

The program I was put into consisted of multiple trained workers that took shifts at the residence. Down the street was a school that was designated for teen mothers and young mothers to be, which included parenting courses and counselling services for single parents.

The home had assigned doctors so each person was guaranteed all prenatal visits were completed on time and any important details could be communicated to the staff at the residence.

We went over the rules with the director of the home, Sue Edlemen and then Grace left. I went to my room on the second floor and got comfortable, or at least as comfortable as I could be in a foreign city ten times the size of any place I had ever lived before.

I put up my radio on a shelf and put in Panic! At The Disco's: A Fever You Can't  Sweat Out, I skipped the introduction and went straight to the words I strongly felt the band had written just for me. "Swear to shake it up, and you swear to listen/Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention/I aim to be, your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives."

When the song ended I clicked the stop button on my radio/CD player and took a deep breath. This was it, time to meet the other young mothers and try to act like I wasn't totally uncomfortable and surrounded by strangers. I walked down the two flights of stairs and into the kitchen.

A woman with short brown hair gave cocked her eyebrow at me. "This is the kitchen, dear, where are you trying to go?"

I looked around and saw some people in the dining area. "Over there." I pointed and she turned me around.

"Well you can go around to get to those girls. Try not to come in the kitchen during the weekdays, I'm always making lunch and after I start making supper so it's not safe for you ladies." The woman's French accent made her a little hard to understand but she seemed understanding of my mistake, I'm sure it happened every time a new girl showed up. "We'll have to get a sign made for that entrance or somebody put up a wall. Kendra, put down your cards and come build a wall over here for me, please, honey." I could hear the conversations as I rounded the hallway and came down a lobby straight hall to the dining area.

There were three long wooden kitchen tables lined up in the room, the one furthest from the sink area where bottles were cleaned and prepped, was filled with young ladies. The table was littered with hundreds of playing cards and the group sat around laughing and drinking glasses of different drinks, juice and water and some looked carbonated.

A dark haired girl at the end of the table was holding a newborn baby, I watched from the hall and listened as they chatted.

The girl holding the baby saw me watching and waved me over. "You must be new, what's your name?"

I took a few step closer. "Ama, what's your babies name?"

"Brooklyn, she's a week old. Isn't she precious." She ran her finger down the side of her daughters cheek and looked up at the girls around the table who were watching us intently. "Oh yeah, these are some of the other girls that live here, Becca, Chelsea, Laura, Melanie, Lydia, Christina." She pointed to each one as she said their name but I was more interested in the tiny human in her arms.

"It's nice to meet you. Can we play now? I'm going to kick your ass, I know that's why you're stalling." Chelsea had an attitude and I'm sure good reasons for it but she always sounded angry to me. "Have you ever played Jack-ass before, Ama?"

I shook my head and pulled a chair from the other table to sit with them. I felt like a gnat at that table with other women in a similar situation as me, like they knew I was just a child and somehow they weren't. They explained the game a few times for me because I don't take instruction well and we played four more games before the cook cleared us out and the workers announced it was time for us to get some sleep.

I had been intimidated by these girls and thought they ruled this minuscule world we were cohabiting in. I wanted to spend every minute in my room with my cell phone glued to my ear, talking to Patrick and listening to P!ATD. I never wanted to face my house mates again, but I had to.

_________________

The next morning I got up with the wake up call, assuming it was mandatory. I ate two pieces of toast that turned my insides and made me wish I hacks never opened my eyes. I returned to my bedroom and fell asleep again.

A staff member came looking for me around lunchtime. "You need to eat, Ama. Lunch will be ready in five minutes, I'll see you there."

I sat up in my bed and my head spun while the rest of me was still. I was at least a hundred steps from the bathroom, if I needed to be sick it would have to be in the sink that each room had. I placed my feet on the ground and the twirling sensation faded.

I went to the kitchen and ate lunch, I didn't talk and I barely touched the food. When I felt I had made enough of an appearance I repeated the routine I started at breakfast, I dragged myself back to my bedroom and went to sleep. My phone rang around 4:30pm it was Patrick.

"How are you liking it so far?"

I adjusted my pillows to hold me up higher and leaned back. "It's different."

He took a second and I heard him put down whatever he had been tinkering with. "Good different or bad different?"

I shook my head though I knew he couldn't see me. "Neither, just different. They let me sleep all the time, that is a win in my books." I took my hair out of its ponytail and flattened it out as best I could without a brush. "They aren't forcing me to interact with the other girls either. We played cards yesterday but it's not something I would do everyday."

The familiar clink of Patrick messing around with something continued in the background. "So you don't mind it, then? I thought it would have hated it."

There was a subtle knock at my door and it freaked open an inch. "Supper will be ready in ten minutes, Ama." It was another staff members, one I had yet to meet. She closed the door and o could hear her doing the same thing to other rooms.

"I don't hate it, yet. But I am hungry and it's supper time. Call me later, before bed," I chirped in my excitement for food.