Page 22 of Biker's Temptation
“I still don’t understand how CPS hasn’t taken those kids.”Nataly angrily unzipped the thermal bags holding the homemade lunch her mother had sent us.“Half this school has reported the bruises and marks on the kids.”
“The standards for removal are crazy.”I shook my head in disgusted agreement.“At least it’s been better Daisy moved into the house.The kids have clean clothes and come to school fed with their homework done.I haven’t seen a single bruise or cigarette burn since January.”
“Only because Daisy’s playing human shield,” Nataly argued.“It’s fucked up,” she hissed, ignoring my brightly colored signs about friendly language.“It’s just gross.”
“I agree.”There wasn’t much else to say.Daisy’s niblings weren’t the only kids in our school district who were living in domestic war zones.That was the hardest part of working in education.Not the bullshit from administration or the absolutely goofy laws that our state legislature kept enacting or even the ugliness from people like my mean old neighbor Wilma.
No, it was the kids we couldn’t save, the ones we had to send home each day not knowing if they could come back unfed and dirty the next morning or bruised and emotionally abused.
“What did your mom send today?”Every Friday, my aunt dropped off a hot lunch for us to share.It was always something incredibly tasty, something that had simmered with love all morning.
“Enchiladas divorciadas!”Nataly excitedly announced while pulling glass containers from the bags.“Rajas con crema.Oh, and the street corn in a jar we both love.”She gave the mason jars a little shake.“Some corn tortillas.”She pulled out a foil-wrapped package.“Fruit salad.”She glanced at me and said, “You better get the emergency Tajin from your drawer.”
“On it.”I started back across the library to my desk.
Behind me, she called out, “And sopapilla cheesecake bars, Messy!”
I rolled my eyes at the silly nickname.She had called me Messy since she was a little kid.I let her keep using it because it meant something to us, but I always had a slight rub of irritation at how much it sounded like the name Cade had always called me—Missy.
Refusing to think about that jerk, I grabbed the Tajin from my drawer.As I returned to Nataly and the incredible spread she was putting on the table for us to enjoy, I paused near Daisy.I debated whether to let her sleep or wake her for some lunch.I might have been imagining it, but she seemed thinner to me, her face leaner and drawn.
My heart ached for her.She was so young, twenty-two, and still trying to work her way through college a few credits at a time.Her life had been hard from the moment she was born, and it hadn’t gotten any easier.Even now, with a good job as a school secretary, she still worked two other jobs.She staffed the Kids Club that offered after-school care for our students from dismissal until 6 PM and also worked nights and weekends as a server on the strand.That she hadn’t dropped dead from exhaustion was a miracle.
Before I could gently wake her, Daisy bolted upright, her eyes wide and panicked.She threw off the quilt and stumbled out of the glider.She ran to the closest bathroom door, yanked it open and barely made it to the toilet before she vomited.
The violent, painful sound had me running after her.I left the bottle of Tajin on a bookshelf on the way and slid into the bathroom to find her kneeling in front of a child-sized toilet.I quickly grabbed her blonde hair in one hand and held it up and out of the way as she unleashed waves of bile and not much else.
Wracked with dry heaves, she gripped the porcelain and tried to get whatever was in her belly up.Nothing else came.She heaved in between exhausted sobs, and I stood there helplessly, murmuring soft words of encouragement.
“Here.”Nataly had joined us in the tiny bathroom, wedging her much bigger frame into the space.She held out wet paper towels from the handwashing station outside the bathrooms.“Take this for her neck and her forehead.”
I placed one wet paper towel on her forehead and another on the back of her neck.Daisy continued to sob, the sound so pitiful and heartbreaking.I looked up at Nataly, silently begging her to help.
Together, we managed to get Daisy back on her feet.Nataly used her height and strength to her advantage and wrangled Daisy out to the sinks.While my cousin helped Daisy rinse out her mouth and wash her face, I grabbed supplies from the locked storage closet on the same wall and quickly sanitized the bathroom.School didn’t start until the following week, but I wasn’t taking a chance with letting any germs linger.
“Girl, what is going on with you?”Nataly asked, crouched down in front of Daisy who had collapsed into a bright green plastic chair.“And don’t tell me it’s stress!This is not stress, Daisy!”
The younger woman covered her face with her hands and wept hysterically.I returned the cleaning supplies to their cabinet, washed my hands and joined them at the little reading table.I pulled up a hot pink chair and sat down catty corner from Daisy.After exchanging another look with my cousin, I decided we had to get to the bottom of this.
Carefully, I took her tear-soaked hands and drew them away from her face.Holding them, I pleaded, “Daisy, tell us so we can help you.”
Her baby blue eyes shimmered with tears.Her full lower lip wobbled.Finally, she exclaimed, “I’m pregnant!”
Nataly fell back on her ass in shock.My hands tightened around Daisy’s, not letting her pull away as she tried to retreat with embarrassment.“Pregnant?”
She nodded and cried even harder.“And I don’t know his real name!”
Now, that did shock me.That wasn’t like Daisy.At all.She was the most careful girl I had ever known.As far as I was aware, she didn’t even date.I had spoken to teachers who knew her from a few years ago, who had taught her high school English and math classes, and they all said the same thing.She was quiet, industrious, modest and afraid of everyone.She didn’t date.She didn’t mess with boys.She wasn’t interested in that kind of trouble.
Which made me really concerned.Because if she wasn’t dating...
“Daisy,” I said carefully, “was it consensual?”
She seemed taken aback by the question.“Yes, it was.”
Relieved, I asked, “Well, what happened?”
She pulled her hands free from mine and roughly wiped at her wet cheeks.Nataly pushed into a standing position, walked over to the handwashing station and returned with paper towels that she thrust into Daisy’s hands.
