Max.
The woman maneuvered the children into a waiting mini-van. I followed them to a building where other men and women were shuffling their kids in through the door. A wooden sign, barely legible, having been faded by the brutal Florida sun, announced that the place was called Maria’s Learning Academy and Day Care Center. The woman who brought Max inside emerged from the childfree. I waited until she drove off to make my move.
I tried my best to dewrinkle my knee-length pleated skirt with the palms of my hands, but there was only so much I could do after hours straddling the moped. I ran my fingers through my hair and took a deep breath.
Bells chimed when I walked through the door. Sounds of laughing and crying children sailed through the air. It smelled like disinfectant and sugar. “Can I help you?” asked a bright-eyed pudgy woman sitting behind a partition.
I plastered on the biggest and brightest smile I could muster.
You can do this.
“You sure can, ma’am. I’ll be taking classes at the university in the fall and I’m looking for a great day-care for my son. I was hoping to tour your facility,” I said sweetly.
The woman examined my face like she was waiting for me to tell her the punch line to a joke. “You’re just a baby yourself.” she quipped. “You aint old enough to have babies of your own.” Her eyes were soft and kind.
“Don’t I know it,” I agreed. “So how about you show me around a bit?” I pressed.
She shook her head and shuffled around some papers on her desk. “Oh, I’m sorry darlin’. Maria, the director, isn’t here and she’s the only one authorized to give tours. It’s a safety thing and we’re all about the safety here.” Another worker wearing the same turquois shirt as the receptionist entered the waiting area. She gave a little wave and Audrey pushed a button on the wall next to her. A buzzing sound came from above the door that connected the tiny waiting area with the rest of the building. The woman opened the door and passed through and when it closed again it made a loud clicking sound. “See?” She pointed toward the door. “Safety first.”
“Oh,” My face fell and my shoulders slumped.
She explained further, “She is usually here around this time, so you can come back tomorrow if you want. But if she doesn’t attend the public funding meetings, then we don’t get the foster kids, and if we don’t get the foster kids, then we have to rely on the families who can afford day-care.” She sighed. “Which means I’d be out of a job cause there ain’t many of those these days.”
My confidence suddenly renewed, I leaned into her window and smiled sweetly. “What’s your name?” I asked.
“Names Audrey, Miss,” She answered with her own sweet smile.
“Well, Audrey, if funding is your problem, I happen to know a senator that might be able to help you out…”
Five minutes later I was following around Audrey as she gave me a personal tour of the day-care center. I wasn’t lying about the funding. I would talk to the senator and see if I could help them.
I just didn’t know if it would work.
Audrey brought me out into the main room filled with cafeteria-style tables that were low to the ground, with equally tiny chairs surrounding them. “We feed them both breakfast and lunch plus two snacks. The rooms are arranged by age. Babies in one. One year old in another, and so-on…” Audrey kept talking but when I spotted Max only feet from where I stood, I faked interest in the bulletin board hanging above the table she was sitting at.
“That’s our activities board,” Audrey said, coming up to stand bedside me. “That’s the schedule of music time, numbers time…” Her voice faded into the background when another one chimed in.
“You’re really pwetty,” sang a small sweet voice. I looked down into familiar bright green eyes that literally took my breath away. They were the same color as his, but where King’s eyes held the harsh and bitter reality of the life he’d lived, hers were void of any contempt and alive with innocence.
I knelt down next to her. “Thank you. You are too,” I said. She giggled, her little tiny square teeth reminded me of Sammy. She chewed on her fingertips.
“I like dis,” Max said, reaching out to touch a bracelet I’d put on that morning, in an effort to look more like the Ray Price in the framed pictures in my room.
I pointed to the tiny purple plastic bracelet on her little wrist. “I like yours even better.”
Audrey cleared her throat. “I’d like to show you to the playground. It’s modernized and we firmly believe in at least thirty minutes of physical activity a day as long as it’s not hotter than the surface of the sun outside.”