“Well, your mom’s had a lot on her plate lately. I’m sure it slipped her mind.”
“Why did grandma and grandpa invite her to stay?”
“Because they wanted to help her. It’s a charity thing. She was in a women’s shelter before this—do you know what that is?”
“A homeless shelter for women?”
“Yeah, sort of. They also take in women who are… running from stuff.” Mallory didn’t know how to explain such a serious topic to a girl Hannah’s age. She didn’t want to scare her or make her upset, but she also didn’t want to lie to her niece either. Growing up, she’d always appreciated it when adults were straightforward, and she wanted to exhibit a similar respect to the kids in her own life. But where should she draw the line?
“Running from what?” Hannah asked, looking up from her iPad screen.
Mallory flinched and bit her tongue, racking her mind for a simple, safe answer. “Well, uh…” She cleared her throat. “These shelters are open to people who need a safe place to live. For some, that might mean they just don’t have enough money to afford a place of their own. For others, they might’ve had a place to live, but it wasn’t safe for them to stay there for one reason or another.”
Hannah’s inquisitive eyes stayed fixed on her aunt, considering her words. “And why did Sasha go there?”
“I—Uh…” Mallory stopped braiding her hair.
The young girl pressed further. “Was she poor or was she not safe at home?”
Leaning back into her chair with a sigh, Mallory tied an elastic around the bottom of her braid. “I wish I knew. She hasn’t really said much about her past. It’s probably not easy for her to talk about it, maybe it makes her sad… I don’t know.”
“You asked her?”
“Indirectly, yes. Why?”
“I was just wondering...”
“Do me a favor and don’t go ask her any of those questions. I know it’s hard not to, and I’ve also been trying to learn more about her, but we need to be respectful. Asking about her past might bring up some bad memories, and we don’t want to upset her.” Mallory was uncomfortably aware of her hypocrisy in saying this, but she closed her eyes briefly and pushed past the shame. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just a bunch of complicated grown-up stuff.”
Hannah shrugged and nodded. “Okay. It’s just weird that she’s here...”
“It’s… different, I’ll admit. But at the end of the day, what your grandparents are doing is a good thing. They’re just trying to help someone in need.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Hannah stood up, pulled back the covers, and crawled into bed. “Her baby’s cute, though. If you like babies.”
Mallory laughed and lay down beside her. “Yeah, Dot’s cute. As far as babies go.” She turned the lamp off.
“Do you like babies?” Hannah asked.
“They’re fine. What about you?” Mallory turned toward Hannah, who was staring up at the ceiling. “Do you think you’ll have kids when you grow up?”
“No way.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to change dirty diapers. Gross.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely one of the less fun parts of parenting.”
“And I hate when they cry. It’s so loud.”
“Same,” Mallory said. “But there are good things about having a baby too. Sometimes, when Dot’s sleeping, she looks so peaceful. I can see the appeal.”
Hannah turned to face her. “Are you going to have a baby?”
Mallory stifled a scoff. She never wanted to be a mom, and she was comfortable with her choice not to settle down and start a family. But that didn’t mean Mallory wasn’t resentful when people cracked jokes about her lack of parenting skills.
Nonetheless, she knew Hannah was asking out of genuine interest rather than masked judgment.
“No,” she said after a while, “I don’t feel drawn to that journey, personally. Besides”—she leaned over to kiss her niece on the head— “I’ve got you and your siblings. I love being your aunt more than anything.”
Even in the dark, she could tell Hannah was smiling. “Good,” she said. “Because I like hanging out with you, but I wouldn’t like it as much if there was a crying baby around.”
