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“That must be difficult,” I said, unable to imagine it. When my babysitter had gotten sick, my mother had taken me along to her nursing job and paid a hospital housekeeper to watch over me while she did her cases.
“I hate it. I thought about getting some kind of public assistance so I could stay home with her, but they ask too many questions. If Emory had been consistent in paying the child support, I could almost do it.”
“I wish there was a way,” I said, feeling myself getting pulled into Eimy Simon’s drama.
“There’s not. I’ve thought of every possibility. I could go home, and my mother would help me, but I’m afraid I’d never get back into the U.S. It’s not worth the risk.”
“Did the daycare try to prevent Emory from taking Yasmine?” I looked down at the baby, her little lips moving as she nursed the air. She was so adorable.
“She was afraid to call the police until he had left because he had a gun. It’s not licensed, either, so she was afraid for that reason, as well.”
Cringing, I tried not to judge Eimy. She had left her newborn at an unlicensed daycare, and the provider hadn’t even called the police until after the baby was taken?
“I live in Midtown. I wonder how Emory ended up there.”
“Oh, my childcare is up there. She has an apartment near Grand Central. I work up there, too.”
The picture was slowly coming together. “Why did he take her?” I finally decided to ask the hard question. “I know you said he was pissed, but what do you suppose he had in mind?”
“He claims it was just to upset me.”
“Did he say why he dumped her?”
“They have a scanner in the car. All crooks have scanners, and they knew the cops were looking for her.”
“So, he knew the police were after him.”
“Right. But I’m so grateful you found her.”
“I saw him drop her,” I finally said. “He did it right in front of me.”
She leaned back in the chair, her eyes wide. “What do you mean?”
“I was walking home from the train. The car pulled up to the curb, the window came down, and he dropped Yasmine to the ground. I ran to see what it was because she was screeching, and they pulled away, throwing her bag out the window.”
Eimy was clearly upset. “Did he see you? Maybe he dropped her there knowing you’d get her.”
“Eimy, I don’t think so. And he dropped her a good two or three feet off the ground, onto the frozen median. She only had the receiving blanket around her.”
“Oh my God,” she cried. The people sitting around us looked over at her.
“I’m so sorry. I thought the police or CPS would have told you what happened to your baby.”
“They did not. They said you found her on the street, wrapped up in a bundle. I had no idea you saw that fucker drop her from the car. And he’s out on bond! That’s what really irks me.”
I didn’t know what to say to her. There was really nothing to say.
“What should I do?” she asked, wiping her eyes with a paper napkin, careful not to dislodge her false eyelashes.
“Make sure your attorney knows the complete story, so when visitation rolls around again, you don’t have to give that scumbag the time of day.”
“It never ends,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I have to go back to work tomorrow and take her to the same place. He’s out of jail, he knows where she is, so I’ll be a wreck all day.”
“Is there any way you can take her to work with you? She’s such an easy baby.”
“No. I’ve asked, and my employer doesn’t want the distraction. I understand it. She pays me enough money to live in Manhattan, so I should be grateful.”
I bristled at that. “Did she tell you that?”
