Sister, Savior, Scientist

"I feel raw, like a naked nerve or something. Like my protective coating is missing," Mariah said, fumbling with a button on her blouse. The room was pitch black except for the bright, projected image of a neuron on one wall, its branching dendrites like an uprooted flower. 

"That sounds exactly like the intersection of depression and anxiety," Dr. Daily said. 

Mariah nodded, her gaze unfocused. Dr. Daily flicked on the lights and offered an apologetic look. 

"Its time for our lab meeting... I understand you're having a hard time. We can save discussing your lab work until next week. You’re getting good neurons with the fluorescent microscope, by the way.” 

"Thank you," Mariah said as she stood up and awkwardly pushed in her oversized chair. Daily's office was small and cluttered, stacks of papers everywhere and coffee rings decorating most of the journal articles she passed around to the lab. Mariah was the most recent hire of the three junior scientists and she was still getting used to Daily’s laissez-faire attitude. 

When had Mariah's meetings with Dr. Daily become therapy sessions? It seemed to have arisen organically from a repeated cycle; Mariah's home life would fall apart, she would fail to meet a deadline, she would come to explain herself and she would lose sight of what was or was not normal to share with one's boss. Mariah’s thoughts began to spiral; you have no boundaries, Mariah. You're going to get fired. You’re too messed up to make it as a scientist anyway. Your life is so much more complicated than all of these normal, functional people.

It made sense that Dr. Daily would talk like a therapist--she was a neuroscience researcher who designed questionnaires to make sense of brain imaging data, and as such was well versed in psychology. She didn't also have to be compassionate and patient, but she was, and Mariah knew that was the only reason she still had a job. She had made the mistake of telling her last boss that she was late for a meeting because her mother had relapsed, and he had responded by revoking her access to the drugs they used on the rats. Afterwards she had basically needed to be babysat in order to conduct any of her experiments, given they were a drug research lab studying the effects of opiates on maternal behavior. She had really wanted to love that job, because they were on the cutting edge of the research area she was most interested in… but she knew she would never have her work published under Dr. Redding. 

After the lab meeting, Mariah exchanged her lab coat for a raincoat. Daily had assigned three more papers for them to familiarize themselves with over the weekend. Mariah always found a way to read while she walked the forty minutes home, because once she arrived, there would be no end to the distractions. She had innovated an umbrella that was also a hat, leaving her hands free to read even in the rain. 

When she arrived home, her mother was curled up on the living room couch, crying softly. Mariah's two year old sister was on the floor with a spoon and a tub of ice cream, quietly spreading the melty stuff all over her face. 

"Mom, she can't have that!" Mariah yelled, rushing to take it away. Little Emma began to cry instantly. 

"It made her happy. Now look what you did, she's crying. I can't stand it when she cries," Her mother said, her voice angry and sorrowful. 

Mariah picked up her sister and carried her upstairs, setting her up with toys in her crib while she drew her a bath. She chewed her lip while the warm water filled the tub, the little rubber-ducky that sensed the water temperature blinking green to let her know the bath wasn’t too hot. She had her cellphone in her other hand, and even though she knew she had no messages, she checked them again.

The truth was, she knew she couldn't leave her sister alone with her mother anymore. That her low-paying work at the lab was a selfish extravagance, really, when her sister needed her. No one could raise a family on her lab salary. It was just supposed to be a stepping stone on a longer career path, a way of exploiting recent graduates who were expected to sell their labor for cheap until they were prestigious enough to have their own cheap underlings. She could never compete with those people, the voice in her head said. Shouldn't she just give up? She had been trying hard to pretend she was like her lab mates, concerned with dating and getting in to graduate school. But ever since her father had died, there had been no one else to take care of her mom and Emma. 

After she put Emma to sleep, she brought her mom a glass of water, her medication, and the heated blanket from her bed. 

“I thought you were going to be a doctor,” her mom said bitterly and without opening her eyes.

“Even if I was, mom, I’d still have years of schooling and shitty pay ahead of me.” 

“Yeah, but then afterwards you’d be a doctor.” Mariah didn’t want to have this conversation again. 

Her mom had recently decided to spend all of her time in the living room with the huge TV and the open floor, where it was easier to have an eye on Emma, so to speak, though she barely paid her any attention. Mariah heated her mom some oatmeal with chocolate sauce, one of the only things she would eat. Afterwards Mariah went to the room she shared with Emma and laid down on her twin bed. Tears leaked out of her eyes as she stared, one hand clutching her cellphone. It was 9 p.m. on a Friday and they still hasn't called her back. They probably wouldn't call over the weekend, meaning she would have two agonizing days to sit with the reality of what she had done, wondering what would happen to her sister. 

Mariah woke up to Emma giggling. She was holding up her Mr. Monkey, making him dance along the bars of the crib and climbing to the edge before scurrying down again.

"Good morning little bean," Mariah said, scooping her up into a hug. "Time for you and Mr. Monkey to have some breakfast." It would be hours before their mother woke up, which meant that Mariah would have some nice, peaceful time with her little Emma. She felt guilty for thinking it, but sometimes she wished her mom would just sleep all day. At least that way she wouldn't be in pain.

Halfway through Mariah's toast and jam, her cellphone rang. The ID said "Molly lab," a fake persona she had created to hide the identity of the caller in case her mom saw her phone. Mariah picked up Emma and went to the front porch, afraid to answer the call within earshot of her mom.

"Hello?" She said, her heart rate spiking.

"Is this Mariah Bailey?"

"Yes, I'm her."

"Okay. I'm calling from child protective services, my name is Diana and I've been assigned to your case. Is now a good time to talk?" 

Mariah said yes, though she guided Emma even further from her mom's house, leading her to the playground at the elementary school across the street.

"Are you safe? Is your sister in any immediate danger?"

"No, she's with me." 

"And where is your mom?"

"Inside, sleeping."

Diana asked her a series of questions which Mariah answered mechanically. She knew she was disassociating, unable to fully face her feelings. She was also holding back, trying to maintain control over the conversation. If she said the wrong thing, some trigger word, there would be police or social workers whether she wanted them there or not. If she did let herself feel anything, she would cry, and maybe implode. She was sure that she was betraying her mom, when all she wanted was for someone to finally help them. 

"You understand that if we send someone to the house, your sister might be taken into protective care?" Diana said. 

"I don't want that," Mariah said, watching Emma descend down the spiral of a slide, Mr. Monkey on her lap.

"I want shared custody. I just want to be able to take care of my sister. And... I want my mom in rehab. When they let her out of the work-house they never had anyone check up on her, they never required any rehab or assigned her a social worker. It doesn't make any sense."

Diana sighed heavily. 

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I wish there was something I could do for your mom. But everything I can do, she would have to ask for. And if you don't want the foster system involved, or the law, you'll need your mom to voluntarily give you guardianship of your sister." 

When the call ended, Mariah felt a bleak assurance that she was no better off than she had been before she made the call. If it was as easy as just asking her mom for custody, of course she would have done it already. But after everything her mother had been through... She felt grimly certain that Emma was the only reason her mom had any will to live. And if there was external proof that she was no good at taking care of Emma, that could be the last straw.

And so Mariah was left at square zero. Or negative one. She couldn’t live her life and protect her sister at the same time. She was stuck, and there was no way out.

When Monday came around and it was time for Mariah to go to work, Emma clung to her leg and begged for her to stay. Their mom was sleeping noisily on the couch, and Emma had a bag of cheerios, a plated banana, and a stack of books and a pile of toys set up for her on the living room floor. Mariah often arrived late to work, waiting until she could rouse her mom so that Emma had at least some supervision. But who was she kidding? Her heart sank through her feet, and through the crust of the earth and then out the other side and then launched into outer space. It made no difference if her mom was awake, or asleep—this wasn’t really a safe place for Emma. 

“Take me with you,” Emma said. “I promise I’ll be good.” Mariah laughed helplessly. What other option did she have? This would probably be the last straw with Dr. Daily. But it was always going to come to this. She grabbed the cheap folding stroller from the front porch and strapped Emma in, placing the bag of cheerios and Mr. Monkey in her lap. She wouldn’t be able to finish her lab reading on the walk, but she figured it didn’t matter. 

It was Spring, and all of the trees along her usual route were erupting with leaves. She took the walking path along the river to get to the University, because it was quiet and she was less likely to run into traffic or a bicyclist, leaving her to bury her head in her reading. This time she was looking up, noticing the flowers, the brilliance of the morning sun, the smiling faces of the other pedestrians with their backpacks and their bright, unburdened faces. It was a perfect seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. Even if her life was falling apart, at least she could still notice that the world was beautiful. She took comfort in that thought. After she was fired, she would take Emma to a park they had never been to. 

As she was approaching Maynard Hall her watch read 7:55 a.m., meaning she had five minutes before she would be officially late. She tried to run with the stroller but it was awkward and probably unsafe, so she slowed to a speed-walk. Just as she was approaching the automatic glass doors, she heard her name.

She turned, recognizing the sound of Ashley’s voice. Ashley was a Junior Scientist in the Madera lab next door. Mariah realized that Ashley was pushing a stroller, too.

“Good morning!” Ashley said, smiling and waving at little Emma. Emma waved up at Ashley and then peeked shyly into the other stroller, where a boy in blue footie pajamas peered out from under a sunhat.

“He wants to wear his pajamas all the time,” Ashley said, sounding a little embarrassed. “Its just easier to let him. What’s your daughter’s name?”

“Emma,” Mariah said, because she didn’t have nearly enough time to explain her complicated family life.

“This is Toby,” Ashley said as she pressed the button for the automatic door and ushered Mariah in ahead of her. When Mariah turned left towards the lab elevators, Ashley called out, “Hey, I know a shortcut to the daycare. It's way faster if you go through the East Wing.” 

“Daycare?” Mariah said.

“Yeah, employees of the university get on-site daycare… don’t tell me you didn’t know that? It is the only reason I can afford to have this job, the pay is such shit.” 

“I didn’t sign up for it,” Mariah said.

“They’ll take your information today and you have a month to get the paperwork in. They’re chill, don’t worry.” 

Mariah followed Ashley, doubtful that anything could be so easy. When they arrived at the brightly lit room with rows of colorful toy bins, Ashley and Mariah cued up behind the other parents with their kids in tow. There were at least five around Emma’s age, including Ashley’s son. A few minutes later, after Emma was deposited on a floor mat next to Toby and so excited to be with another kid that she all but forgot Mariah existed, Mariah walked dazedly back towards the lab elevators.

“This is so great, actually,” Ashley said. “You’re the only other junior scientist with a kid. No one ever understands why I miss happy hour and why I never come in on the weekends or do all nighters with the lab rats… its hard to explain to someone without kids what being a single mom is like. Anyway, you and I can stick together.” Mariah was still too dazed to form a coherent response, but on some level she could feel herself easing into this fantasy; single mother, scientist, friends with the only other single mother scientist. Ashley was making it work somehow. Maybe Ashley had a rich baby-daddy and a trust-fund and a loving, helpful mom… but maybe not. And if Ashley could do it, maybe Mariah could, too. 

“We can share childcare on the weekends, and study together,” Ashely was saying. “That is, if you want to,” she amended nervously.

“Yes, that sounds… actually really great,” Mariah said. 

All day long, Mariah expected her mother to call her and ask where Emma was. She left the lab every thirty minutes to check her phone where she had reception, but her mother never called. As she photographed the stained neurons, emitting their retina-searingly bright red, blue and green florescence, she worked out a script for what she would say to her mom when she got home. At dinner, her words were so rehearsed that she almost felt calm. 

“I just figured you could really use a day off,” Mariah said. Her mom looked up at her, searching her face for a moment.

“That was really thoughtful of you, hon. But just leave a note next time.” 

“Of course,” Mariah said. 

“They let you take Emma up to the lab?” 

“No, I left her at the daycare center. It was a really beautiful little place, with super friendly staff. And I think she made friends,” Mariah said.

“I met Toby!” Emma said from her highchair.

“It was really good for her, I think, to be with other kids…” Mariah hoped she wasn’t laying it on too thick. But when she looked at her mom, she saw the telltale glassy eyes of pain only barely dulled by narcotics. 

“Sounds great, honey.”

“So mom, the daycare is free to University employees. I would just need to be a legal guardian to get the paperwork through, but then we’d be set with free daycare for the next few years. Emma could hang out with kids all day, and you could get more rest.”

Her mom nodded, her jaw flexing as she bit back the pain that must have shot up her neck when she moved it. She didn’t look at Emma.

“Sounds good, just show me where to sign and I’ll sign it.”

Mariah fought to keep her mouth from falling open. That was it? Just like that. Her mom would sign over guardianship to get free daycare and a few more hours of rest. Mariah’s gears were turning—she would bring Emma to daycare, and she would study with Ashley on the weekends, and maybe they would become really close friends and get through these career building years together. She knew she was getting ahead of herself, but she always dreamt big.

The next morning, Mariah woke early and cooked a big breakfast. She packed a bag for Emma so she’d have everything she needed at daycare, and as they walked to the University, Mariah was floating on a cloud. For the first day in years it seemed like she might actually be okay. She arrived at the glass doors of Maynard hall early and sat on a bench in a bright patch of sunlight, waiting for Ashley and Toby to arrive. When Ashley walked up with her stroller, Mariah smiled and waved. 

“Hey, Momma scientist!” Ashley said, sunshine dancing on her golden-brown hair. 

“Hey to you,” Mariah said. She didn’t mind being mistaken for Emma’s mom one bit.