Kennedy stood outside the Macy’s, sobbing. She was further drenched by the downpour that suddenly erupted from the sky. She didn’t bother covering her face with her hands–she let them rest at her side. The entire mall parking lot would know her despair. However, the lot was strangely empty for a Saturday afternoon, even with the rain. There was nothing else to do in Lawton but shop; where was everyone? A woman and a young boy hurried past her, ignoring Kennedy’s heaving sighs, and pulled their hoods over their heads. The little boy jumped in the puddles while his mom did her best to drag him in the opposite direction.
Up until thirty minutes ago, Kennedy worked at the perfume counter in Macy’s. She sold more than anyone else, and it was her first job, too. The high school senior she worked with hated her for that. She’d never voiced it, but Kennedy could tell from how she counted the money at the end of the day. But now she was probably laughing as Kennedy stood alone, bawling for the job she had begged God for.
In hind sight, Kennedy probably shouldn’t have been stealing. A few of the smaller perfume bottles, the less popular ones, were easy to slip into her backpack. Too easy. Her boss was practically asking for it by lending Kennedy the keys that one time he was out of town. She rarely took cash. Just a few times to cover her and her best friend’s movie tickets and milkshakes.
Where is my mom? Kennedy wondered. The rain was getting worse and the wind was picking up. Tears still fell steadily down her cheeks. She probably looked a mess. Black mascara like skid marks splashed on her cheeks, loose strands of hair escaping from her ponytail.
The front doors to the mall opened. Another mom appeared with a baby in a stroller. The baby wore a pink onesie and gripped a teddy bear holding a red heart in its paws. She was precious. All smiles despite the weather. Kennedy always liked that about babies. So oblivious. Kennedy brushed her hair out of her face and approached the mom.
“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you,” Kennedy said, in between sobs. “But can I hold your baby? I just think it would make me feel better.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. One hand was gripping her hood tightly over her head, the other to the stroller’s handle. She hadn’t stopped moving. “I don’t think so, honey. We’re just trying to get home safe and sound.”
And I’m not? Kennedy thought to herself. Sorry I don’t have my driver’s license. Sorry for thinking you have a cute baby.
“You should get going. Didn’t you hear about the tornado warning?” The woman asked.
“Oh, shit.” Kennedy stopped crying. She was about to ask the woman for a ride home, but she was already in her car, lights flashing, driving away, baby in tow.
**
Kennedy told her mom she was laid off from Macy’s months ago but she hadn’t dropped it.
“Weird,” her mom said, sometimes at dinner, sometimes over the phone. “I heard from Debby you were killing it.”
Kennedy shrugged. “That’s business, baby.”
“Don’t call me ‘baby.’” Her mom paused, put down her book. “You remember Sally from church? I heard from her cousin that her niece is looking for a babysitter. Could be a good gig.”
Kennedy called the number her mom gave her, and the woman on the other end, Alicia, told her to come over for an informal interview. Kennedy picked out a black and white striped dress from her closet, brushed out her wavy hair, and sprayed two spritzes of lavender blueberry body spray.
It was one of those lawns that had rocks instead of grass, something that Kennedy had always found ugly. Yes, it saved water, but at what cost? When she grew up, Kennedy decided, she would have a house with the biggest lawn ever. She’d make her husband pay for the water bill. During summer in Lawton you were meant to conserve water, so she would just shower less. She knocked on the door and a familiar face appeared.
“Oh, wow,” the woman, Alicia, said. “Your hair looks nice when it’s not soaked.”
It took Kennedy a second to remember. “Your baby! I saw you outside the mall.”
“I know, I told my entire Mommy and Me class about it,” Alicia said. She wasn’t smiling, but she hadn’t slammed the door in Kennedy’s face yet. “Come in. You want some iced tea?”
**
The baby’s name was Sara–and Kennedy was obsessed. They spent the entire summer together and when Kennedy started 10th grade in the fall, she still babysat over the weekends and occasional week nights. Sara was three, laughed at everyone, and threw everything on the floor. Kennedy loved picking her up and spinning her around, pretending she was hers. They’d move to San Antonio or OKC and Sara’s laughs would echo around their big apartment.
Kennedy stopped going to her best friend’s weekly slumber parties because she wanted to see Sara. Alicia invited her over for movie nights and popcorn, extra butter. Sara crawled between them on the soft, dark blue couch while Molly Ringwald kissed boys on the screen. Kennedy watched Alicia hold her daughter, the way Sara’s tiny hands pulled on Alicia’s hair. Sometimes when it was just Kennedy and Sara, Sara would call her mama. No matter how many times Kennedy asked God for Sara to call her mama in front of Alicia, she never did.
**
“What are you going to do with all that babysitting money, anyway?” Kennedy’s mom asked on the drive to school.
“I don’t know. Go to the mall or something.” Kennedy shrugged.
“Not Macy’s though.”
Kennedy looked at her.
“What? Like I wouldn’t hear about your sticky fingers.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“You’re not even going to ask how I figured it out?”
Kennedy was silent.
“Your ex-coworker is my best friend’s daughter. You should’ve been able to piece that one together.”
“Oh.”
Her mom honked at the car in front of them. “I don’t like how much time you’re spending with Alicia.”
“I’m babysitting her daughter, we’re not hanging out.”
“I haven’t seen you pick up a textbook since school started.”
“I do my homework during lunch,” Kennedy said.
Her mom paused. “You ever wonder why her husband’s never home?”
“He travels a lot for work.”
Kennedy’s mom laughed. “Cause it’s not his kid.” She pulled up to the curb at the front of Kennedy’s high school. Students were streaming out of cars and buses. “I’ll pick you up at four-thirty!” Her mom waved goodbye as Kennedy debated whether her mom was telling the truth or not.
**
The annual Christmas nativity scene was held in a corner of the mall’s parking lot. Everybody came and walked around with hot chocolate and kids licked candy canes that melted into their sweaty palms. Kennedy’s favorite part were the twinkling lights that were strung up between the lamp posts. She pushed Sara in her stroller–Alicia was supposed to meet up with them later, after she got finished work. A few of Kennedy’s friends saw her and stared. Whatever, Kennedy thought. They wish they had as cool as a job as me. She pushed Sara over to the hot chocolate booth. Sara was trying to take off the mini Santa hat that Kennedy bought her, but Kennedy repositioned it so it would stay on. She began to get fussy. This happened when Sara was in the stroller for too long, Kennedy knew. She liked to roam free and explore on her own. The line for hot chocolate wasn’t even moving. She pulled Sara out from the stroller and kneeled down to help her stand.
Sara looked up at the lights, her big blue eyes taking in as much as she could.
“Merry Christmas, Sara!” Kennedy whispered. “Santa’s going to bring you so many presents.”
The line inched forward while Sara wobbled around in circles. Kennedy hadn’t stopped thinking about Alicia and her husband since her mom brought it up. She was too afraid to ask Alicia about it, so she let the thoughts fester in her brain. Cheating is bad, sure. But Sara isn’t bad. She’s the most perfect thing Kennedy had ever seen. She looked down to admire Sara but she wasn’t there.
“What the—” Kennedy spun around in circles, the panic rising in her chest. She was about to cry, scream, freak out. She clenched her fists together and started calling out for Sara.
No, no, no, no, no, no!
A stranger tapped her on the shoulder. Kennedy half-expected to turn around and see Sara in this stranger’s arms. But he only offered help.
“No, thanks. I don’t need it,” Kennedy said.
The stranger looked shocked. “Suit yourself, kid.”
She didn’t want help from some random guy. She was fifteen and capable and a good babysitter–
“Hey!” Alicia appeared with a thermos and her Coach bag resting on her shoulder. She leaned into whisper to Kennedy. “Don’t tell anyone, but this is definitely not hot chocolate.”
Kennedy managed a smile. She was not about to tell Alicia her daughter was missing, swept away by the Christmas crowd; she could be anywhere. She could have been snatched by one of the live camels they brought in for the nativity.
“Where’s my little Sara?”
Kennedy was quiet, but Alicia eyed the empty stroller. “Fuck, Kennedy. Are you serious?”
And then fast as lightning, Alicia was gone. She weaved in and out, calling for her daughter, while Kennedy stood frozen still. The line for hot chocolate had barely moved, so there she stayed, waiting for Alicia to return, holding Sara. Waiting to be invited back for a movie night and to sink into her perfect blue couch.