Sarah Leanne

Michael still thought about Rhonda more than he should. More than he thought he should, anyway, not that he knew of any guidelines for such reminiscing. There was no use thinking of “what might have been”, so he thought about what she was like before it all…

And then his thoughts would jump months ahead to the baby. For too short a time, Rhonda held her, they called her Sarah Leanne, and Michael fought in vain against his tears. And then they came- the secure, self-assured, churchgoing married couple. The ready couple. Michael and Rhonda had agreed that this soft, smiling couple would give Sarah Leanne more than they ever could, but somehow that sincere agreement left them feeling unsuitable for each other’s very presence. They took their pained, shameful exits from each other’s lives- within months? Maybe weeks. Michael didn’t remember anymore.

As this fall semester rushed to a close, Michael’s memories took on a new, mathematical flavor. He had been just barely twenty-one then… now, his thirty-third birthday approached. The child they’d called Sarah Leanne- whatever her name was now- would be celebrating her twelfth birthday in a few weeks. The party would probably be held the Saturday three days after her birthday. Michael knew the “when”, but not the “where”, the “who”…

And how? How could she be twelve? He figured out her age every year, but never before had it been so hard to grasp. He ran it over and over again, rechecking his math in case thirty-three minus twenty-one wasn’t twelve anymore. When it kept turning up twelve, he turned his anxious probing on the incredulity itself. Well, why couldn’t the girl be twelve?

And then he knew, one muggy afternoon when he was on bus duty. The girl couldn’t be turning twelve because there were girls at the school who were only turning twelve. They were timid, and seldom approached him because he was an eighth-grade teacher. But they were here. Next year they would be taller, bolder, and there would be new little shy ones. Two years from now, this year’s sixth-graders might be Michael’s students.

After almost ten years of teaching, this all seemed very natural- the cycle of middle school life. Until Michael threw Sarah Leanne into the picture, that is. Then it seemed insane. Then he was back to thinking, Is she really twelve? Wait, I’m almost thirty-three now…

But suppose the child they’d called Sarah Leanne was really twelve. And suppose that soft, smiling couple, who Michael had known by first names only, now lived around here. The idea sent a shudder through him, a reasonable reaction to a violent shift in his reality. What if Sarah Leanne- well, our daughter, whatever her name is- goes to this school?

Would he be able to pick her out of a crowd? He knew she was white; that narrowed it down to only about half the girls in the sixth grade here. But what color was her hair? Was she tall or short? Did she look more like Rhonda or Michael? ...What exactly did Rhonda look like, again?

This was pointless. Michael had moved from the Bay area all the way down to L.A. to avoid this kind of hopeless speculation- after he spent six months double-taking almost every time he saw a woman with a baby in public. The odds that the ready couple also now lived this very school district- it was practically impossible.

Besides, even if she was somehow here, and even if he did somehow recognize her... Well, she could never recognize him.