Soon after the funeral Carrington and I were visited by a guardian ad litem. or GAL, who had been appointed to assess whether I was fit to be her legal guardian. The GAL's fee was one hundred and fifty dollars, which I thought was pretty steep considering she stayed less than an hour. Thank God the court had waived the fee—I didn't think my checking account would cover it.

Carrington seemed to know it was important for her to behave well. Under the GAL's observation, she built a block tower, dressed her favorite doll, and sang the ABC song from start to finish. While the GAL asked me questions about the baby's upbringing and my plans for the future, Carrington climbed into my lap and pressed a few impassioned kisses on my cheek. After each kiss, she glanced significantly at the GAL to make certain her actions were being duly noted.

The next phase of the process was surprisingly easy. I went to Family Court and gave the judge letters from Miss Marva. the pediatrician, and the pastor of the Lamb of God, all offering good opinions as to my character and my parenting abilities. The judge expressed concern over my lack of a job, advised me to get something right away, and warned me to expect the occasional visit from Social Services.

When the hearing was over, the court clerk told me to write out a check for seventy-five dollars, which I did with a purple glitter pen I found at the bottom of my purse. They gave me a folder with copies of the petition and information release forms I'd filled out, and the certificate of guardianship. I couldn't help feeling like I'd just bought Carrington and been handed the receipt.

I went outside the courthouse and found Lucy waiting for me at the bottom of the steps, with Carrington in her stroller. For the first time in days, I laughed as I saw Carrington's chubby hands clutching a cardboard sign Lucy had made for her: PROPERTY OF LIBERTY JONES.

CHAPTER 12

Fly High with TexWest!

Are you ready for a rewarding and people-oriented job in the skies'? Travel, learn, expand your horizons as a flight attendant for TexWest, the fastest-growing commuter airline service in the nation. Must be willing to locate to our domiciles in CA, UT, NM, AZ, TX. High school diploma required, height requirement of 5'0" to 5'8", no exceptions. Come to our open house and discover more about the exciting possibilities at TexWest.

I have always hated flying. The idea of it is an affront to nature. People are meant to stay on the ground.

I put down the classifieds and glanced at Carrington, who was sitting in her high chair and feeding long strands of spaghetti into her mouth. Most of her hair was fastened into a sprig of hair at the top of her head and clipped with a big red bow. She was dressed in her

diapers and nothing else. We had discovered that cleanup after dinner was a lot easier if she ate topless.

Carrington regarded me solemnly, with a big orange smear of spaghetti sauce across her mouth and chin.

"How would you like to relocate to Oregon?" I asked her.

Her small round face split into a grin, displaying a set of widely spaced white teeth. "Okeydokey."

It was her latest favorite phrase, the other being "No way."

"You could stay in day care." I continued, "while I go up in a plane and serve little bottles of Jack Daniel's to cranky businessmen. How does that sound?"

"Okeydokey."

I watched Carrington meticulously pick out a shred of cooked carrot that I had sneaked into her spaghetti sauce. After divesting the strand of pasta of as much nutritional value as possible, she put the end in her mouth and sucked it up.

"Quit picking off those vegetables," I told her, "or I'll make you some broccoli."

"No way," she said, her mouth full of spaghetti, and I laughed.

I pored over the notes I had made on the jobs available to a girl with a high school diploma and no work experience. So far it seemed I was qualified to be a Quick-Stop cashier, a sanitation pump driver, a nanny, a cleaning lady for Happy Helpers, or a cat groomer at a pet clinic. They all paid about what I had expected, which was next to nothing.

The job I wanted least was to be a nanny, because it meant I would be taking care of someone else's kids instead of Carrington.

I sat there with my limited options spread around me in the form of newspaper pages. I felt small and powerless, and I didn't want to get used to that feeling. I needed a job I was going to keep for a while. It wouldn't be good for me or Carrington if I hopped from place to place. And I suspected there wasn't going to be much rising through the ranks at a Quick-Stop store.

Seeing that Carrington was depositing her carrot bits onto the newspaper in front of her, I muttered, "Quit doing that, Carrington." I pulled the paper away and began to crumple it up, and stopped as I saw the orange-speckled ad on the side.

A new career in under a year!

A well-trained beauty technician is always in demand, in good times or bad. Every day millions of people go to their favorite stylists for cuts, coloring, chemical treatments, and other necessary cosmetic services. The knowledge and abilities you acquire at East Houston Academy of Cosmetology will prepare you for a successful career in any aspect of the beauty business you choose. Apply for a place at EHAC, and let your future begin. Financial aid available to those who qualify.

You often hear the word "job" in a trailer park. At Bluebonnet Ranch, people were

always losing jobs, hunting for jobs, avoiding jobs, nagging someone else to get jobs. But no one I knew had ever had a career.

I wanted a cosmetology license so badly I could hardly stand it. There were so many places I could work at, so much I wanted to learn. I thought I had the right temperament to be a hairstylist, and I knew I had the drive. I had everything but money.