Page 2 of Confined Space

"Hello, I'm Coral Pierce. I'm supposed to have a place ready for me." I smile at the woman as I shift the car seat around.

"I'm sorry for staring.” She smiles back at me. “I'm Georgia Drake. I'm filling in while the manager takes a late lunch. You're going to be in 2B across the way from me." She stands and makes my five-foot-one frame look like the child most people mistake me for. She’s got to be at least six feet tall. "Who is this little one?" she asks as she pulls out a chair for me to set his car seat on. I'm eight weeks out from my Cesarean section. I made sure to have my follow-up appointment a week before I left LA. I’ve been given the all clear to return to work. I can do some lifting, but I need to be careful still.

My body, however, has pretty much returned to its pre-pregnancy size. Well, except for my breasts that can range from a full B cup to a full C. I’m so focused on taking care of my son that I don’t always eat like I should. I try to make sure I have the minimum amount of nutrition so I don’t lose my breast milk. The food banks were able to help me out, and I had some state aid but not much. I try not to ask for too much help. I don’t know who I can or can’t trust anymore.

"This is Archer." I smile and reach out a hand to shake hers. She coos and baby talks with Archer for a few moments before she walks back around the desk and retrieves a packet.

"I have your keys here and can show you both to your place. Let me take your bag. Based on the size of this little guy, I'm going to assume he isn't very old." She keeps smiling at me, and I want to trust her. When she reaches for my backpack, I lock my arm, keeping my bag close to me. I lived in LA long enough to know not to let my wallet go far from me. Plus, my history has taught me not to be very trusting.

"Oh, no, I got it." I force a smile on my face because I don't want her to think I'm ungrateful. Growing up in the South, my granny made sure I had excellent manners. But LA taught me that people aren’t always what they seem. I have to watch out for those wolves in sheep’s clothing.

After directing me out of the office and locking it up, she leads me around the building and two fourplexes down. We climb the stairs, and she turns to the right and stops at a door.

"Here we are. This is one of the partially furnished units. As you can see, the park is right over there, as well as the laundry room." She points across the parking lot to a building in the center area. I shift my gaze to the park, where kids are still playing and yelling. Then she opens the door, and I step inside.

The living room is painted in a tan color and has laminate floors with a white trim. There is a plain brown sofa and coffee table in the space. Nothing spectacular. After a few paychecks, I can get some decorative pillows and other décor to make the place homier. I walk through to the kitchen and find it has a dishwasher along with the other major appliances. Looking across the breakfast bar into the dining room, I see a small table and two chairs.

"Come this way." Georgia directs me to the hall where a bathroom is and then to a small bedroom with a queen-size bed.

"Thank you." I nod at her and turn my back so she can’t see my disappointment. The pictures online showed a nicer, homelike room, not this utilitarian, basic furniture filled space. I glance around and notice I have room to put a crib in here once I get it.

I'll have to decorate the place and make it Archer's and my home. However, that will take some time because getting him a crib and other things will be a priority. I have a portable crib with a removable bassinet and changing table. It even vibrates and plays music. It was my first splurge other than a car seat. I've saved money to buy the other things I'll need for Archer, but I wanted to wait until we were settled. I do have some sheets and blankets for now and a few towels. But my sheets fit a single, and this is a queen.

"Would you like me to watch him while you move your car over here?" Georgia asks from the entry to the bedroom.

"Um, I guess." I bite the corner of my bottom lip, pulling it into my mouth, nervous to trust her with my son.

"I promise I'm safe. I love babies."

Isn't that what a kidnapper would say?

"It's okay. I understand it's hard to trust people to help you." She tips her head to the side and looks me up and down. I feel like a bug under a microscope. Can she see the pain I try to hide? The secrets I keep. The things I don't want others to see. The fact I put on a good front when I'm not as strong as I let people believe.

"Okay." My voice is quiet, but it has a slight quiver to it because I don't want to give anything away. I'm strong and tough, I tell myself. I've been tasked with doing this by myself, and I will be the best mother to my son.

I hand her the car seat and she takes it from my hands. I follow her out to the living room, where she sits down and sets Archer on the coffee table.

"Go get your car and we can get it unloaded."

I take her in for a moment. Can I trust her? She seems kind and genuine. She smiles at me. It's been a long time since someone has been nice to me.

Her brown hair and deep-brown eyes are focused on me. Again, she appears to be seeing more than I want her to. She has soft wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, showing she smiles a lot.

"You know you should probably hurry because he's moving around, and based on the lack of bottles, I’m guessing you're going to need to breastfeed him." She laughs.

"I'll be right back. His binky is attached to the monkey in his car seat."

"Binky?" She turns her head to look at me with one eyebrow arched.

"Sorry, I mean his pacifier." I hurry out the door and down the stairs.

When I get to my car, I jump in and turn the key. The engine sputters as it tries to come to life.

"Come on, old girl, you can do it." I encourage my 2000 Toyota Camry to start. It has been across the country with me and is getting up there in mileage and years. Finally, the starter catches and the engine roars to life.

I back out of the spot and head for the marked parking for my apartment. When I get out this time, I pop the trunk and grab Archer's bed and the suitcase with his clothes in it. I'll come grab mine later, along with the few boxes I have. I don't have much, but it'll get us by. Walking into my apartment, I'm greeted by Georgia holding Archer to her body and gently rocking him while she talks to him.

"I hurried. Sorry."

---