Providence Read Online Free

well; there were no motels listed in town. I dropped the phone book and looked over the cork board hanging on the wall. A few notices announced rooms to let. I skimmed over them and sorted them in my head. The one with NO KIDS written in big red letters and the one that cost more money than I’ve ever had at one time were of no use to me. I dug a pen and paper out of my backpack and jotted down the addresses of the other two. Maybe I could talk one of these folks into renting the two of us a room for one night.
    I counted what was left of my money, and started thinking about the price of diapers and formula. I told myself to stop wasting my time. Thinking about how little there was wasn’t going to make my money grow any. I was going to have to use what I had as wisely as I could.
    I could feel the wire binding on my notebook as I stuffed my money back in my bag. I’d made sure to bring it with me when I left. I didn’t need to open it to know that the words Super Suds did not appear anywhere on my adventure list. Then again, neither did taking care of a baby. But here I was, surrounded by peeling paint and dented clothes dryers, house hunting in the Super Suds.
    The air in there was starting to curl my hair, so I decided to ask the ladies by the washers if they knew about a motel nearby or could point me in the direction of the addresses on the notices. They whispered to each other and turned their backs to me. I felt like I was back in school when the girls would all huddle together to compare their new back-to-school shoes and pretend to not notice when I walked in the room. I guess it was easier for them to ignore me than to have to look at the worn down heels and scuffed toes of my shoes.
    Standing there in the Super Suds I did exactly what I’d done back at school—looked for the closest doorway to pass through. In this instance, I was glad to see the door to a ladies’ room. Since I was going to have to search out these addresses, Baby Girl and I would likely have a long afternoon ahead of us. That would mean having to stop to feed her again. I rinsed her bottle in the bathroom sink and filled it back up with water. When we came out, the laundromat ladies, who had been staring at the bathroom door, turned away again. I was starting to think that Rosie was the only person in town who had read that welcome sign down by the tracks.
    I could feel the heat penetrating the soles of my sneakers as soon as I stepped back onto the sidewalk. I hoped to find someone to help me get my bearings, so I didn’t have to push the stroller all over town looking for those two houses. As I searched the dusty storefronts for a friendly face, something up the road a piece caught my eye. I turned my attention to the black and white car heading in my direction. I put my head down and kept walking. I pictured the officer jumping out of the car and chasing after me. I tried to listen to the tires on the pavement, hoping they didn’t slow down as they approached us, but all I could hear was my own heart pounding against my chest. I kept my head down and plowed forward. About a half a block later, I felt a jolt and the carriage bounced back at me.
    “Whoa!” a voice said. The rest of his words were drowned out by Baby Girl’s crying.
    I bent over to lift Baby Girl out of the carriage and when I stood up straight I came face to face with my traffic victim. He brushed a mass of dark hair from his eyes. The expression on his face looked like worry, not anger.
    “Is she okay?” he asked, in almost a whisper.
    I swayed back and forth, rubbing her back until she quieted. “She’s fine,” I said. “I’m sorry, I should have been looking where I was going.”
    “I guess we should be happy you are steering a baby carriage and not a car,” he said.
    I bent down to put the baby back in the carriage and to hide my red cheeks. I fidgeted with her for a while, making sure she was far enough up to be covered by the shade of the carriage top.