The Gift

“Do you think they'd really let me do that?” Maribeth was stunned, and overwhelmed by what Liz was suggesting. It could mean jumping ahead a whole year, and maybe even finishing in June, which she really wanted. She knew that even the next few months at home would be painful. She had proven to herself now that she could take care of herself, and she wanted to go home again, just to be there, and see her mother and Noelle and finish school. But she knew now that she wouldn't be able to stay for very long. She had come too far, and would have grown too much to stay at home for another two years after she gave up her baby. She knew they would never let her live it down, especially her father. Six months, until graduation in June, would be plenty. And then she could move on, get a job, and maybe one day, if she was lucky, get a scholarship to college. She was even willing to go at night. She was prepared to do anything for an education, and she knew her family would never understand that.

Liz gave her a number of additional assignments then, and promised to see what she could do at school, and she told Maribeth she'd let her know, as soon as they told her.

They talked for a while after that, about other things than school, mostly about Tommy, and his plans. Liz was obviously still worried that he would marry her, just so she wouldn't have to give up the baby, but Liz didn't say that. She just talked about the colleges she hoped he would attend, and the opportunities open to him, and Maribeth understood her completely. She knew what Liz was saying to her, and she couldn't help herself finally. She looked straight at her, and spoke very softly.

I'm not going to marry him, Mrs. Whittaker. Not now anyway. I wouldn't do that to him. He's been wonderful to me. He's the only friend I've had since all this happened. But we're both too young, it would ruin everything. I'm not sure he really understands that,” she said sadly, “…but I do. We're not ready for a child. At least I'm not. You have to give it so much, you have to be there for your kids …you have to be someone I'm not yet …you have to be grown up,” she said with eyes filled with tears, as Liz's heart went out to her. She was barely more than a child herself, with a child of her own in her belly.

“You seem very grown up to me, Maribeth. Maybe not grown up enough to do all that …but you've got a lot to give. You do whatever is right for you …and for the baby. I just don't want Tommy to get hurt, or do something foolish.”

“He won't,” she said, smiling as she wiped her eyes, “I won't let him. Sure, sometimes I'd like to keep the baby too. But what then? What am I going to do, next month, or next year … or if I can't get a job, or there's no one to help me? And how is Tommy going to finish school, with a baby? He can't, and neither can I. I know it's my baby, and I shouldn't be talking like this, but I want what's right for the baby too. It has a right to so much more than I can give it. It has a right to parents who are crazy about it, and not scared to take care of it like I am. I want to be there for it, but I know I just can't …and that scares me.” The thought of it tore at her heart sometimes, especially now, with the baby so big and so real, and moving all the time. It was hard to ignore it, harder still to deny it. But for her, loving her child meant giving it a better life, and moving on to where she was meant to be, wherever that was.

“Has Dr. MacLean said anything to you?” Liz asked. “About who he has in mind?” Liz was curious. She knew a number of childless young couples who would have been happy to have her baby.

“He hasn't said anything,” Maribeth said with a look of concern. “I hope he knows I really mean it. Maybe he thinks Tommy and I …” She hesitated on the words and Liz laughed.

“I think he does. He kind of hinted to me a while back what a great 'young man' Tom was. I think he thought the baby was his. At least that was what I thought when I first found out. Scared me to death, I'll admit …but I don't know. I suppose there are worse fates. Tommy seems to be handling it pretty well, even though it's not his, and that must be even harder.”

“He's been fantastic to me,” Maribeth said, feeling closer to his mother than she had felt to her own in years. She was loving and warm and intelligent, and she seemed to be coming alive again after a nightmarish year. She was someone who had grieved for too long, and knew it.

“What are you going to do for the next two months?” Liz asked as she poured her a glass of milk and gave her some cookies.

“Just work, I guess. Keep on doing work for school. Wait for the baby to come. It's due Christmas.”