“K,” she exhaled. “I’m her babysitter, and her mom called me because—”
“Hi, I’m so sorry, I just . . . hi.” From the end of the aisle, the woman came forward, and her very used tennis shoes squeaked against the tile floor. She put a hand to her chest. “I’m a mom. And I heard the little girl say that she’s not with her mom, and since it’s so late I got a little nervous.”
Emira looked at the woman and half laughed. The sentiment felt childish, but all she could think was, You really just told on me right now?
“Where . . .”—Briar pointed to one side of the aisle—“Where these doors go?”
“One second, mama. Okay . . .” Emira said. “I’m her sitter and her mom asked me to take her because they had an emergency and she wanted me to get her out of the house. They are three blocks away.” She felt her skin becoming tight at her neck. “We just came here to look at the nuts. Well, we don’t touch them or anything. We’re just . . . we’re really into nuts right now, so . . . yeah.”
For a moment, the security guard’s nostrils expanded. He nodded to himself, as if he’d been asked a question, and said, “Any chance you’ve been drinking tonight, ma’am?” Emira closed her mouth and took a step back. The woman next to him winced and said, “Oh, geez.”
The poultry and meat section came into view. There, the Penn State shopper from earlier was very much paused and attuned to Emira’s conversation. All at once, on top of the surreptitious accusations, this entire interaction seemed completely humiliating, as if she’d been loudly told that her name was not on a guest list. “You know what—it’s cool,” she said. “We can just leave.”
“Now wait a minute.” The guard held out his hand. “I can’t let you leave, because a child is involved.”
“But she’s my child right now.” Emira laughed again. “I’m her sitter. I’m technically her nanny . . .” This was a lie, but Emira wanted to imply that paperwork had been done concerning her employment, and that it connected her to the child in question.
“Hi, sweetie.” The woman bent and pressed her hands into her knees. “Do you know where your mommy is?”
“Her mom is at home.” Emira tapped her collarbone twice as she said, “You can just talk to me.”
“So you’re saying,” the guard clarified, “that a random woman, three blocks away, asked you to watch her child this late at night?”
“Ohmygod, no. That’s not what I said. I’m her nanny.”
“There was another girl here a few minutes ago,” the woman said to the guard. “I think she just left.” Emira’s face checked into amazement. As it seemed, her entire existence had become annulled. Emira felt like raising her arm as if she were finding a friend in a large crowd, with a phone to her ear, and saying, Do you see me? I’m waving my hand. The woman shook her head. “They were doing some . . . I don’t even know . . . some booty dancing or whatnot? And I thought, okay, this doesn’t feel right.”
“Ummm.” Emira’s voice went high as she said, “Are you serious right now?” Briar sneezed into the side of her leg.
The Penn State man came up and into view. His cell phone was raised and recording in front of his chest.
“Ohmygod.” Emira shielded her face with chipped black nails as if she’d accidentally walked into a group photo. “Can you step off?”
“I think you’re gonna want this filmed,” he said. “Do you want me to call the police?”
Emira dropped her arm and said, “For what?”
“Hey, big girl.” The security guard got down on one knee; his voice was gentle and practiced. “Who’s this right here?”
“Sweetheart?” the woman said softly. “Is this your friend?”
Emira wanted to bend down and hold Briar—maybe if Briar could see her face more clearly, she’d be able to deliver her name?—but she knew her skirt was gravely short, and now there was a cell phone involved. It suddenly seemed like her fate was in the hands of a toddler who believed broccolis were baby trees, and that placing yourself underneath a blanket made it difficult to be found. Emira held her breath as Briar stuck her fingers in her mouth. Briar said, “Meer,” and Emira thought, Thank God.
But the guard said, “Not you, honey. Your friend right here. What’s her name?”
Briar screamed, “Meer!”
“She’s saying my name,” Emira told him. “It’s Emira.”
The security guard asked, “Can you spell that for me?”
“Hey hey hey.” The man behind the cell phone tried to get Emira’s attention. “Even if they ask, you don’t have to show your ID. It’s Pennsylvania state law.”
Emira said, “I know my rights, dude.”
“Sir?” The security guard stood and turned. “You do not have the right to interfere with a crime.”
“Holup holup, a crime?!” Emira felt as if she were plummeting. All the blood in her body seemed to be buzzing and sloshing inside her ears and behind her eyes. She reached down to swing Briar into her arms, placed her feet apart for balance, and flipped her hair onto her back. “What crime is being committed right now? I’m working. I’m making money right now, and I bet I’m making more than you. We came here to look at some nuts, so are we under arrest or are we free to go?” As she spoke, Emira covered the child’s ear. Briar slipped her hand into the V of her blouse.
Once again, the tattletale woman took her hand to her mouth. This time, she said, “Oh man, oh shoot.”
“Okay, ma’am?” The security guard widened his stance to match hers. “You are being held and questioned because the safety of a child is at risk. Please put the child on the ground—”
“Alright, you know what?” Emira’s left ankle shook as she retrieved her cell phone from her tiny purse. “I’ll call her father and he can come down here. He’s an old white guy so I’m sure everyone will feel better.”
“Ma’am, I need you to calm down.” With his palms to Emira, the security guard locked eyes with Briar again. “Okay, honey, how old are you?”
Emira typed the first four letters of Peter Chamberlain and clicked on his bright blue phone number. Against Briar’s hand, she felt her heart bounce underneath her skin.
“How many are you, honey?” the woman asked. “Two? Three?” To the guard she said, “She looks about two.”
“Ohmygod, she’s almost three,” Emira muttered.