The entrance of the local pre-school was already choc-a-bloc with gossiping moms by the time I reached to pick up my three-year-old. Parking my car a few meters away, I walked up to the shady tree right next to the gate and leaned against it. Some of the women turned to look at me and whispered something to each other. I looked away, trying not to show that I knew it was me they were discussing and that it made me cringe.
Three months since my first visit, I was still an outsider. None of them had ever looked at me with friendliness and I didn't expect it to change any time soon. Letting out a soft sigh, I looked at the sky. The sun had been cloaked by threatening clouds and despite a car and two umbrellas, I knew nothing could save us from the rain that morning. When the gate opened and sent out a swarm of excited toddlers, I straightened myself, my heart warming at the sight of my little girl. The two hours I spent apart from her every day were the loneliest hours of my life. As Samantha ran up to me, once the parting pleasantries with friends were over, I kneeled on the dusty, uneven ground and reached out for her, returning her smile.
"So, how was the day?" I asked, when she had finished kissing my cheeks.
"Great!" she beamed, her broad smile showing the rows of tiny teeth within. I saw her painted fingers and the patches of clay on her blue dress and smiled. I couldn't describe how relieved it made me when school brought only happiness and positive vibes for her. Children did not judge, unlike their parents. They welcomed friends into their lives irrespective of whether or not they had a father.
"I think it's going to rain, mama," she squeaked, bringing me out of my thoughts, "Look at those clouds."
I followed her gaze and felt a little threatened by the dark clouds. Picking her up in my arms, I ran all the way to my car, determined to reach home before it started to pour. No sooner had I settled her in the seat beside mine and fastened her seat belt, than she began to babble about the day, like she always did on our way back home. Out came the paper chain they had been taught to make that day, the painting she had got an 'A' for and then started to sing the songs she had mastered at one go. Somewhere, I felt my heart swell with pride. That little brown haired girl was my daughter, who had come into my life not long after my 22nd birthday, and going by how bright she already was, I wasn't doing a very bad job.
"Mama, let's dance in the rain," she said, as the first raindrops splattered against the windshield. I was never too good at driving in a downpour and here I was being invited to dance in the rain.
"No, we'll get wet," I said firmly, as the drops soon turned into a heavy shower. Samantha remained quiet and pondered for a while, making me think she wouldn't say that again. But I knew I was wrong when she squealed: "But it will be fun!"
Why did I feel I wouldn't win with her? Perhaps, because I never did. We had danced in the rain many times but never on the street. It would be dangerous and I wouldn't give in to her repeated requests.
"We can go home and get drenched on the lawn, alright?" I tried to pacify her, keeping a firm eye on the busy, rain-soaked traffic before me. Samantha was trying her best to gaze through the hazy window, wiping it with her palms to get a better view. No one was enjoying the rain and I hoped it would give her the impression that getting drenched on the street wasn't a very good idea.
"Mama, look at that man," she suddenly called for my attention, "He looks cold."
We were stuck at a red light and the rows of vehicles before me showed no sign of moving. I looked where she wanted me to look and felt my heart missing a beat. Samantha had wiped the window clean and I could clearly see Brian standing on the pavement in the distance, desperately trying to shield himself from the rain, without much success. I hadn't seen him in more than two years and suddenly seeing him helplessly drenched and unprotected in the sudden downpour made me feel a little strange. And I knew exactly what Samantha wanted me to do when she nudged me.
"Pick him up, mama," she almost commanded, "If we cannot get wet, why should he?"
The traffic was moving and I had to decide fast. It was I who had inculcated in her the habit of doing one kind deed every day. That's how she brought home Georgie, the injured cat who we nursed back to health and made our own. That's also why she diligently shared the toffees in her bag with any homeless kid she saw on the streets. And now she wanted me to give Brian a lift. A part of me wanted to refuse but that would be a bad example. I couldn't go against what I had taught her.
"Alright," I sighed, turning my car around. I would be picking up the soaked and shivering man, even if he was my ex.
As I hesitantly pulled up before him and rolled down the window, Samantha vigorously waved her small hands at him, managing to grab his attention. Brian saw her first and just when a soft smile broke out on his face, his eyes fell on me. For a while, I clearly saw him freeze. Would he take my help? Or would he walk away?
"Come on!" Samantha called out when she realized her waving wasn't working. I noticed Brian's features softening slightly and he walked towards the car, soaked to his skin.
"You will fall ill," she said to him, very knowledgeably, "I wanted to dance in the rain but mama didn't allow. Your mama will scold you when you go home."
Brian laughed softly and looked at me, a pained expression on his face.
"Get in," I tried to smile but was unable to. I saw him struggling to decide. He had always been indecisive, in the most crucial moments, and it hadn't changed.
"The rain doesn't show any sign of stopping," I said, "Get in. There's no point waiting in the rain. You're anyway going to be sick."
Brian finally made a move and got in the backseat, his clothes and hair dripping wet.
"That's a good boy," Samantha smiled, when he was all settled and I had resumed our journey.
"Thank you, little lady," he returned her smile, his gaze hovering on me. I felt angry tears pricking the back of my eyes. Little lady, huh? Wasn't she just garbage?
"My car broke down and had to be towed," he explained, squeezing the sleeves of his denim shirt, "I'd been waiting for a cab for more than an hour..."
Had it not been for the baby I had found in a garbage bag, I thought, you'd still be waiting.
"When did you return?" I asked bluntly, "I had heard you've left town."
"That was for a short while," he replied. To get over you, I heard.
"I came back last year," he added.
"You know him, mama?" Samantha asked, curiously. I wanted to deny. She didn't think I'd introduce her to a man who despised her? Yes, she did. And I fell for her innocent charm.
"This is Brian," I told her, without meeting her gaze, "An old friend."
"I am Samantha," she extended her hand towards him. Brian smiled, shaking her hand.
"Nice meeting you, loved one," he reached out and patted her cheek.
Loved one? Yes, that's what her name meant. But it did not mean he thought of her as that.
"How have you been?" he asked me, even as I tried to keep my head straight.
"Just getting by," I replied, unease eating me from inside. As I turned left, taking the direction he had asked me to, I found myself rewinding to the time when I adopted Samantha and brought her home. She was small and frail and needed a mother's warmth. Ever since I first realized she felt the safest and warmest when sleeping on my chest, that's where she always slept till she was a year old. I loved watching her breathe softly, her tiny mouth curling into a yawn and her back responding rhythmically to her breathing. When I put her back into the crib thinking she was asleep, she cried and I rushed to take her back in my arms and cradled her until we both drifted off to sleep. My Saturday night parties were gone, so were my weekend trips.
Shopping meant baby products instead of cocktail dresses and every single moment not working was spent with the new angel. Never for even a second did I feel I was missing out on my life. My life surrounded Samantha- she had made it meaningful, even though the hardwork would leave me exhausted every day. I read up on parenting, spoke to friends and friends of friends and let instinct guide the rest. Yes, it was sentiment that had made me bring Samantha home, but it had grown into love overnight. I had begun to love her more than anything or anyone else. And that is what Brian had a problem with.
We were young, helplessly in love and felt a little too much passion for each other. It was a steady relationship and nothing had ever been that serious for either of us. And even though marriage wasn't on the cards anytime soon, we were planning to move in together. When Samantha's arrival under the most unusual circumstances instilled a sense of insecurity in him. I had sorted out the hows and whys with Brian within a week of bringing her home but his displeasure showed. I knew it was a brave decision and would change my life forever, but I felt ready for it. At least, it would save a life. And I tried to make him understand to the best of my abilities but his inflated male ego stood in the way.
The night we last saw each other, my mom was keeping Samantha so that Brian and I could have our moment together. It helped and we made love after a very long time. I wouldn't like to call him selfish but he was too much in love with me and wanted me to be with him and not with Samantha. He refused to see I was a mother and my baby needed me. There were times when we did not see each other for days, leaving him irked but there was nothing I could do. He wanted me all to himself and that night, I felt him mellowing a little when I gave him time. But only till the phone call. Even without looking, my instinct told me it was mom and something was wrong with Samantha. But Brian grabbed my hand.
"It's just you and me tonight," he said firmly, pinning me to the bed, "Why didn't you switch that thing off?"
"Because I have less than a month-old baby who needs me!" I pushed him away and sat up, reaching for the phone. Brian interfered again.
"That's not your baby. You found her in a garbage bag."
I felt his words hitting me in the middle of my chest. There I was trying to make him feel a little affection towards Samantha and it suddenly made me seem so stupid in my own eyes. Why was I doing it? He thought of her as nothing more than garbage that I had picked up from the streets. He did not even think she was mine now. How could he ever feel love for her? Without offering a reply to what he had just said, I grabbed my phone and checked my voice mail. And something clutched at my insides when I heard mom's voice.
"Helena, I hate to disturb you, but Samantha doesn't seem too good without you. She's been crying incessantly and-"
I did not need to hear the rest. I should've known Samantha wouldn't be too well apart from me.
"Where are you going?" Brian demanded, when he saw me getting clothed. I wasn't in the mood for an argument but I had to give him a final reply.
"Samantha needs me," I said flatly, getting hold of my bag, "I have to go."
He heaved a frustrated sigh and sat up.
"So you don't intend to work on our relationship?" he asked softly, trying his best to not lose his temper. I turned around to face him.
"What's there to work on? We could be fine. All I need is a little support from you but you don't see that I have a baby back home and I can't just leave her and go enjoy myself. No. That's not what mothers do."
"Mother! For heaven's sake, Helena, you are not her mother. You just found her. And you didn't even talk to me before bringing her home. Is that the kind of importance I have in your life? You bring a baby home and I come to know only after you've decided everything?"
"And what would you do? Stop me, right? I found her, you didn't. I adopted her, you didn't. Why would I ask you? She would've died had she been in that trash pile for a little longer. I saved a life, Brian. Don't you see that?"
"No, I don't! If her parents decided to throw her away, who are you to pick her up? That's none of your business. What do you think you're doing? Saving the world?"
"I am," I said very softly, tears flooding my eyes, "Just because someone was cruel enough to throw their baby away like trash doesn't mean I too would pretend to not see anything and turn away. I would never be able to forgive myself if I did that. I always knew I had to bring her with me ever since I held her for the first time...."
Brian looked away and ran his fingers through his hair.
"I have nothing to say," he murmured. I nodded knowingly, wiping the tears off.
"So I don't have your support?" I asked.
"What support? You're doing great. You don't need me, do you?"
I put my feet in my shoes and took a step back. "Exactly. I don't."
I cried my way home, wiping my face dry just before mom opened the door and I hurried to my baby, picking her up and giving her a warm cuddle, just the way I had done when I found her in the dumpster. She stopped crying almost instantly and fell asleep clutching at my chest, her tiny face inhaling and exhaling near my bosom. There was nothing more I could ask from life at the moment. For many days after that night, I tried to reach Brian but did not succeed. I wanted to give him a chance; maybe he was just too overwhelmed and needed time to come around. But I got to know soon after that he had left for a different city on work. I did not hear from him again.
As the entire flashback raced through my head, I found it difficult to keep the tears from blurring my vision. Brian was right behind me and could see everything in the rear view mirror. And that was the last thing I wanted- him to see my tears and think that I still had a weakness for him. Samantha, in the meanwhile, had been talking continuously to him, telling him all about herself, me, her gran, her school, her friends, and Brian was participating in the conversation. The fondness I saw on his face for her was what I had wanted to see three years ago, when he stood his ground and walked out on me instead. Had he changed his ways? Did he finally feel guilty about the way he'd hated her for coming into my life?
"That's it, Helena," Brian spoke suddenly, motioning me to stop, "A little to the corner."
I pulled up before the nondescript building overshadowed by a Louboutine store right next to it, realising from the name that's where he did business from nowadays. I quickly wiped a few stray tears from the edge of my eyes in the time he took to alight, hoping he wouldn't notice. But he did. When he stepped out and looked in through Samantha's side of the car, I saw his eyes were moist.
"You didn't have to do this, you know," he said a little apologetically, "I would've got by on my own. I made you girls late."
"Well, I wouldn't even have noticed had she not told me," I said, looking at Samantha. He smiled at her and my eyes widened a little when he poked his head in and gently kissed her forehead, making her giggle.
"Thanks," he said softly, his voice a tad shaky, "For everything."
I forced a smile and stepped on the accelerator, as Samantha waved him goodbye. The rain was still heavy and in the rear view mirror, I could see him fading away in the distance as the car made its way through the fairly waterlogged street. I looked at Samantha, who was humming a tune to herself and playing with her fingers. Stopping at a fairly empty corner, I smiled at her. "So... you still want to dance in the rain?"
Samantha stopped humming and nodded, slowly looking at me. When she saw me smiling, she smiled back, understanding what I meant. Turning off the engine, I got down from the car, the rain immediately hitting my dry clothes, and helped her get down. Less than five seconds later, we were running down the waterlogged street, holding hands and laughing. The rain soaked us, the water got into our shoes but we danced, the way only we could. A few of the passersby laughed at our prattle, others wondered if it would be a good idea to join, while some even went ahead and tried to imitate us kicking the rain.
I lifted Samantha in my arms, wondering how I had managed to bring her up so fast. It still felt like yesterday when I was struggling to control my tears when she cried at her first vaccination, feeling my heart fill with tenderness when she took her first tentative steps, and worrying myself to death whenever she fell down. True, I hadn't known what it would be like to give birth to her but she was still miraculously my own. After all those years, it was still hard for me to believe that someone would want to dispose a newly born life in a garbage bin.
"Mama!" she held my shoulders and gently shook me when she saw I was lost. I looked at her, hoping the rain would conceal my tears, but there was no hiding from her. Samantha smiled, held my face with both hands and kissed my cheek. "You're the best mama in the world," she said into my ear, her voice so sweet, it seemed to stop everything around me for a moment. I hugged her tight and let the tears flow freely, not caring who saw them. Leaving behind a man who didn't care, giving up all the things I used to think I couldn't survive without, staying awake for endless nights so that she'd sleep...
Someday it would all fade away. What would remain is the fact that I was important in the life of a child. Every time Samantha smiled at me, I realized all over again how blessed I was to have experienced the greatest feeling in the world- the warmth of unconditional love. We wait for miracles to happen, but seldom realize that they're happening around us all the time. I realized it every time I held my little girl in my arms.