A few times, for no reason at all, Mrs. Cunningham gave Corey sloppy kisses on his cheek and he giggled, then scrunched up his face and wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“Stop, Mom,” Corey said.

Sometimes his friend didn’t get how lucky he was to still have a mother who embarrassed him. After lunch, the boys played in the snow until the sun scooted behind the clouds and a red line of dusk streaked the sky. Sebastian and Pancho headed home before the streetlights came on so they wouldn’t get in trouble, and the Cunninghams called Corey in to do some reading before supper. It didn’t matter what time Midnight got home. The pills Granny took made her fall asleep too early to notice much, and Auntie Glo was probably deep in a pot haze by now.

Walking along the railroad tracks back to Pratt, Midnight turned his face up to the dimming sky, opening his mouth to catch the snowflakes. He cursed each streetlight that popped on. Maybe if he slowed down, they would, too.

Fifteen

Ruth

Municipal buildings often smelled of old paper and bad plumbing. The county clerk’s office emanated the same musk, Ruth discovered the minute she walked in. Signs and arrows in this building pointed to where a couple could apply for a marriage license and file for divorce. Happy, hopeful beginnings and sad, bitter endings right there, side by side.

She and Xavier had been so excited to receive their license to marry. Tess’s and Penelope’s signatures appeared as witnesses, even though they themselves couldn’t marry in the eyes of the law or even God, as some believed. While she and Xavier remained at an impasse regarding her son, she put her faith in that license, proof of their legal obligation to each other as husband and wife. A contract he couldn’t easily break.

The morning she’d left Xavier to come to Ganton, he zapped a frozen waffle in the microwave and she ate a premade yogurt parfait from the supermarket. Each of them chose quick, easy breakfasts. Somehow, the silence that day cut deeper than angry words. Her eyes burned with tears thinking that the institution of marriage might have meant more to her than to him. In the three days she’d been away, they hadn’t spoken or texted.

The weatherman on the radio had warned about the temperature dropping just below freezing, but it felt like a sauna in this building. Ruth unwound her wool scarf from around her neck and fanned herself with a flyer she picked up on county ordinances.

Under her coat she wore a conservative navy pantsuit, remembering that Xavier always chose the color blue for ad campaigns when he needed to convey trust and stability. Even though she had just come for information about her son and his adoptive parents, some part of her felt the need to prove to the government that she could be entrusted with the care of a child.

As she surveyed the room for the right clerk window, she sensed someone watching her. A thumping buzzed in her chest like an alarm. She pulled her twists to her cheeks to obscure her face. She felt a light tap on her arm and, letting her hair fall from her fingertips, she slowly turned around.

A woman with piercing green eyes and wiry brown hair stared back at her. She jerked the safety harness strapped to a little girl’s chest. The contraption reminded Ruth of a dog leash and she swore she’d never use one with her own child. A chunky girl in a Colts jacket who had to be no older than fourteen stood with the woman and little girl, but slightly off to the side, as if she didn’t want to acknowledge the association.

“Homeroom,” the woman said, snapping her fingers.

“What did you say?” Ruth asked.

“Homeroom. We were in the same homeroom class freshman year. I’m Kaylee. Remember me?” The woman grinned as if she’d achieved a personal victory, having solved the puzzle of how they knew each other. Her leathery, weather-worn skin resembled that of a woman twice Ruth’s age. The old cliché about aging that Black don’t crack proved true once again.

Putting this woman in a time machine and imagining her much younger, Ruth had a vague memory of Kaylee playing in the marching band. “Yes, I remember now.”

Ruth also recalled that Kaylee was one of several girls who had gotten pregnant freshman year. This wasn’t an unusual phenomenon at Pratt High, the public school where Ruth ended up going. By this time, Papa was long gone and so was the money to continue her private school education.

Kaylee raked one hand through her hair, absently pulling at a tangle. “Haven’t seen you around here since high school. You must’ve moved away. I would’ve loved to get out of here, maybe go to Ohio where my dad’s side of the family lives, but then my high school boyfriend and I had a kid sophomore year, so you know . . . You remember Bobby Chesniak from school, right?”

The name sounded familiar but Ruth couldn’t place him. She nodded anyway.

“Anyhow, this is Olivia.” The teenager’s face contorted in disdain and she rolled her eyes heavenward, obviously wishing she could be anywhere other than here in the clerk’s office with her mother and baby sister.

“And this here is Mandy. She’s in her terrible twos now and gets into everything if I’m not watching.” Kaylee gestured to the leash as if to justify its use. Mandy was sucking on a lollipop that had turned her lips bright orange.

Ruth had stopped about three feet from the adoption records window but didn’t want to move any closer until Kaylee walked away. “Well, looks like you have a beautiful family. Good seeing you again.”