Page 43 of Queen of Nothing

Most of them, anyway.

No one ever offers to help or gives a comforting smile when the baby starts wailing and I’m obviously overwhelmed. There is no compassion for mothers in this world.

It’s hateful.

And my mood is sour as I push out of the chair and clumsily strap the screaming baby into the car seat. The kind with the handle that helps me cart him around, but it’s not exactly light.

It pulls down my arm, sends aches up my slanted spine, as I heave it over to the printer.

Page after page comes out.

I printed every rental listing for every small town in this state.

Ohio is a relief after the searing heat of Mexico. But, after I shove the papers into my backpack, then haul both the bag and the baby carrier outside, the weather turns on me.

Rain is pelting the pavement.

The sidewalk, as the krums here call it.

But I knew that already.

It’s not too much of an adjustment to be here in the US. I’ve spent my fair share of weekends in New York City and Aspen.

Not these days, though.

Cities are above our budget.

Turns out, it costs a lot for two people and a baby to live comfortably. And we’re already down a chunk of change, between paying off Sofía, and all the driving, the travelling, the baby stuff we had to buy, then the monthly sum to keep us shielded from afar, which is $1,000 a month… each. As in, me, Serena, and also Sal.

So, $3,000 every month just to stay hidden.

How we are supposed to afford to live on top of that monthly expense, I don’t know.

Sofía is eating through our funds faster than we are.

But maybe it will get easier once we are settled.

These print-outs of rentals are our future.

Something stable.

A town to stop in for a little while, a place for Sal to grow from a baby to a toddler.

Hopefully toddlers cry less.

He’s really screaming now.

The rain is getting him, and it’s getting me, too.

The car is all the way up the street, at the supermarket where Serena stopped in for some fresher food, salads and fruit.

When we reach the car, Serena is already sitting in the driver seat, waiting for us.

She doesn’t help me strap in the baby seat.

That’s a nightmare in itself.

But then we’re off.