“I will be the very best mother I can be,” she promised her child and herself.
That afternoon, except for some elderly men playing dominoes on the concrete picnic tables, they had the park to themselves. She spread a blanket under a tree, placed Billy on it, and picked up the Frisbee.
Keeping her baby in view, she tossed the Frisbee over and over again, and Ralph would race after it and wait for it to land, then dutifully pick it up and come trotting back to Jamie. She hadn’t a clue as to how to make him understand what she wanted him to do until one of the domino players yelled at her, “Roll it to him a few times so he can learn to catch it while it’s still in motion.”
Jamie did as the man suggested, and Ralph would chase after the rolling disk and grab it. After they had that routine down pat, she sailed the Frisbee along a horizontal plane just a few feet above the ground, and lo and behold he made a leaping jump and grabbed it. Jamie was thrilled. “Good boy,” she called and watched with pride as he trotted back with the disk in his mouth and his crooked tail wagging. She knelt and gave him a hug. “You’re the best!” she said enthusiastically.
Then they got serious. The domino players applauded time and again as Ralph leapt high in the air, his body twisting and turning as though he had been catching Frisbees all his life. Finally Jamie grew weary of the game. She picked up Billy and walked toward the picnic tables with Ralph leaping happily at her side.
“Thanks for the advice,” she told the man who had yelled the instructions. He wasn’t as old as the other domino players, she realized. In fact, he wasn’t old at all.
“Glad to be of service,” the man said. His suit jacket was folded on the bench beside him, his necktie on top of it. He had rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. The other men were more casually dressed. He was the only one who looked as though he had just been to a barbershop.
“He caught on fast,” the man said as he reached out and petted Ralph. “Cute little mutt. Have you had him long?”
Jamie shook her head. “He followed me home a few days ago,” she lied.
“Smart dog,” the man said, picking up a domino and fiddling with it.
His nails were carefully trimmed. His shoes were polished to a high gloss.
“You live around here?” the man asked.
“No, I’m visiting my aunt,” Jamie said, trying to keep her voice calm and friendly. “Well, thanks again,” she said, backing away.
The man stood. “Well, Grandpa,” he said to the man across the table from him, “are you ready to go? Grandma probably has that cake baked by now.”
The elderly man nodded and, using the table for leverage, struggled to his feet.
Jamie watched as the two men walked across the street and entered a two-story house that, like the others in the neighborhood, had seen better days. In the driveway, a shiny black SUV was parked behind an elderly tan sedan.
Jamie went weak in the knees. She drew in several breaths to calm herself then carried her baby back across the park with her dog at her side.
She put Billy in his sling and snapped Ralph’s leash back on his collar then gathered up the blanket. “That man could have been one of them,” Jamie told Ralph. “They know I have a dog. Montgomery would have told them what you look like. They are looking for a tall girl with a baby and a scruffy grayish-brown dog with long legs.”
She left Ralph in the apartment, then with Billy still in the sling walked to the neighborhood drugstore, where she bought inexpensive electric hair clippers.
Back at the apartment, she put several sheets of newspaper on the floor and trimmed off most of Ralph’s hair. He didn’t much approve of the procedure but tolerated it. “It’s your summer cut,” Jamie told him. “You’ll be much cooler.”
Then she sat back on her haunches and regarded her handiwork. Ralph was now a nonscruffy grayish-brown dog with long legs.
Mrs. Duffy did a double take when she saw him. “Is that the same dog?” she asked.
Thursday afternoon, Jamie-with Billy in the sling-walked to the downtown bus terminal and caught a bus to Norman, which was two towns south of Oklahoma City. Once she had arrived at the Norman terminal, she went to a secluded corner and nursed Billy. At six o’clock, she placed her phone call and closed her eyes and silently implored, Please let there be good news.
Mrs. Brammer answered almost immediately.
“It’s Jamie. Have you heard from Joe?” she asked, holding her breath, her eyes still closed.
“Not yet, dear. How are you? Are things any better for you?”
Jamie let out her breath. “Yes. I have a place to stay. I’m okay for now. You haven’t said anything to anyone about me, have you?”
“Not a word. But I have thought about little else.”
“I am so sorry. I don’t want to complicate your life.”
“I understand that, Jamie. You realize that it could be weeks before we hear from Joe? And we have no idea when he’ll be coming home.”
Jamie recalled how, during their first conversation, Mrs. Brammer had been so certain Joe would be home in time for his father’s birthday.
She listened while the woman suggested that Jamie wait at least two weeks before calling again. Maybe by then she would have some news.
Two whole weeks of waiting, Jamie thought dejectedly as she hung up the receiver. Of course, there might not be a damned thing Joe could do to change her situation. And what if she was endangering him and his parents by involving them in her troubles?
With that frightening thought, she took a seat in the waiting room. The next bus to Oklahoma City wasn’t due for almost an hour.
It was after nine before she finally unlocked the door to her apartment and was greeted by her dog. With the baby still in his sling, she grabbed the leash and took Ralph downstairs for a short outing before settling in for the night.
She fed Ralph and warmed a can of soup for her own dinner and thought about what lay ahead while she ate. At this point, she had little else to do but take care of her baby, walk the dog, read, and check the mailbox daily to see if her and the baby’s birth certificates had arrived. She was in limbo until hers came. She couldn’t obtain the all-important Social Security number that would allow her to obtain a driver’s license and look for work.
The following Monday the birth certificates arrived. Jamie felt like a thief as she looked down at the official-looking documents. Or maybe “grave robber” would be a better term.
She looked up the address for the Social Security office and checked her map of bus routes then loaded Billy into the sling.
The waiting room was filled with people. Jamie filled out the necessary forms and waited for her name to be called.
When her turn came, the plump female clerk studied the form Jamie handed her. “Are you Janet Marie Wisdom?” she asked.
By way of an answer, Jamie handed the woman the newly arrived birth certificate.
The woman looked it over then asked, “Have you ever been married or used another name?” Her tone of voice suggested she had asked that same question many times before.
“No.”
“Have you ever applied for a Social Security number before?” the woman asked in the same bored voice.
“My parents are deceased,” Jamie said, with no idea at all if Janet Wisdom’s parents were still alive. “I don’t know if they ever obtained a Social Security number for me or not,” she fabricated. “I was raised by my aunt and uncle in Canada and haven’t needed one until now.”
The woman attached a note to the application. “We’ll have to research it and see if you’ve already been assigned a number,” she said.
“How long will that take?” Jamie asked.
“Two to three weeks,” the woman said. Then she looked over Jamie’s shoulder and called the next number.