Most of the content on Twitter and trashy websites was praise for Emira’s behavior, but some of it got off course. This seemed to be the content that Emira considered when recalling her behavior on that September night.
Why wouldn’t she just let the cop talk to the kid’s dad? That’s technically resisting.
Sorry, but she does NOT look like a babysitter.
If she acts that way in front of a camera, I wonder what she’s saying to the kid when no one’s around.
But Alix felt the same way seeing Emira say these things as she did when she caught the foul lyrics of a song on her phone: delighted and intrigued. Alix was never more frightened of Briar acting like Emira than she was of Briar acting like her. Did she want Briar to act like Emira? In her better moments, sure. More importantly, did she want a babysitter who was capable of standing up for herself? Alix thought, One hundred percent. She folded her lips together and bounced Catherine on her shoulder. “Emira,” she said. “Did you think Peter and I would be mad at you?”
Emira looked up and patted the back of her head. It was clear she had been crying for some time. “Well, I feel bad for calling Peter an old man because he’s always been nice to me and he’s not even that old.”
Alix couldn’t help but laugh as she pulled Catherine’s sock farther up her ankle. “He would appreciate you saying that but it’s honestly not necessary. Well, first of all . . . I know we’ve had our moments, you and I. But Emira, I feel very strongly that I know where your heart is. Peter and I are so grateful that you care about our children and that you’re there to protect them when we can’t. And I appreciate your protectiveness over the girls as much as I appreciate your privacy as a person, so I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”
Emira crossed one leg over the other and said, “It is what it is.”
“Well, we are definitely not mad at you,” Alix said. “We’re the exact opposite. We’re so impressed with how you reacted that evening, and so grateful that you came into our lives . . . and for the record, I’ve definitely said plenty of things in front of them that are not child-friendly, so please don’t stress out about that. Okay . . .” Alix reached for her purse at the other end of the couch and set it down between her ankles. “I have a lot to say right now, so just bear with me. Briar my love, come here.”
Briar looked up and pushed her helmet back onto her skull. Alix held Catherine with one hand and dug into her purse with the other. She pulled out a small, wrapped square gift with red and white twine tied on top. “That’s for Emira, remember? Go ahead and give it to her.”
Emira said, “What’s this?”
Briar took the gift in her hands and made her way to Emira. “I want . . . I want to open dis. I do it.”
Alix said, “That’s for Emira, lovey,” and Emira said, “How about you help me?”
Alix watched Briar and Emira open up the small package to reveal a pocket calendar with a painted floral theme for the year 2016. Emira’s eyes went wide in confusion, but she still said, “Oh, thank you.”
Alix brushed Catherine’s hair with her fingertips and said, “Why don’t you look inside.”
That morning, Alix had written the name EMIRA on all the Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays in the first six months of the calendar. She watched Emira flip the page open to the month of January, as Briar pointed at the picture of the featured flower and said, “I smell dis right now.” Emira flipped to February, seemingly waiting for something to pop out.
“Emira, this is my very bad way . . .” Alix started, “of asking you to do more hours with us.”
Emira flipped to March. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Briar tapped her helmet. “Mama, I want dis off.”
“Come here and I’ll help you.” Alix looked at Emira and smiled. “So . . . Mama got a very cool opportunity, right?” With one hand she released Briar’s helmet. “And it looks like I’ll be facilitating a class at the New School for the upcoming semester. And it’s every Tuesday evening, but the girls obviously can’t come with me, so . . . we’d love for them to be with you. So! It would be . . .” Alix held up a pointer finger to count. “Monday, regular hours, twelve to seven. Tuesday you’d come in at noon and spend the night till noon the next day—we’d make the guest room perfect for you and make sure you’re all set up—and then regular hours on Friday from twelve to seven.”
Emira appeared so stunned by this proposed schedule that she began to hold the calendar as if she’d learned it was quite expensive, and she didn’t want her fingerprints to prove that she’d come in contact. “Wow,” she said.
“Now, I know you have another typing job you do on the days that you’re not with us, and I don’t know how attached you are to it . . . Briar lovey, helmet straps are very dirty and not for your mouth, okay? But yes, we’d obviously make this a full-time job since you’d be giving your other position up. This would put you at thirty-eight hours a week, but we’d bump you up to forty just in case a train is running late one day or what have you. And that way we’d be able to include health insurance and vacation days and all of that good stuff . . . And I didn’t mark up summer only because I know you’ll probably go home at some point, and we can work around all that . . .” Alix sighed and smiled; her shoulders went down about two inches. “I did write all of this down for you because I know it’s a lot,” she said. “And you don’t have to let us know right away, but maybe for now, if you can think of any questions you might . . . oh no . . . Emira, honey, are you okay?”
In the most uncomfortable and cheap-looking chair Alix had ever seen, Emira put her hands to her face and cried. There were no tissues on the coffee table (just two remotes and a tube of something called Baby Lips), so Alix carried Catherine to the bathroom and grabbed a roll of toilet paper. With Catherine at her chest, Alix kneeled in front of Emira, and when she put a clump of the tissues into Emira’s hand, she let her own hand linger.
“You’re having such a time right now and I’m laying all this stuff on you, I’m so sorry.” Emira had such a sweetly embarrassing and mushy crying face that Alix felt that she too might turn teary. “I thought it might all be perfect timing but maybe we should deal with this video first and then we can start to think about next . . .”
But Emira shook her head, almost as if she were both happy and spent, and said, “No, I’m sorry, yeah. Yeah, that sounds really good.”
“Really?!” Alix didn’t mean to say it so loud. She placed a hand over her mouth, as she felt certain that Emira’s neighbors had heard her through the popcorn-textured stucco walls. “Yes? Ohmygod, we’d be so happy, are you sure?”