The Gift

“That's what she says. She says she knows it's the right thing for her to do. I think that's why she doesn't talk about the baby much, or buy little baby things. She doesn't want to get attached to it.” But he still wanted to marry her and keep it. To him, that seemed the right thing to do. He was willing to shoulder his own responsibilities, hers, and someone else's. His parents had taught him well, and he was an exceptionally decent person.

“You have to listen to what she wants, Tom,” Liz warned. “She knows what's right for her, no matter how it seems to you. Don't try to force her into something else …” she looked at him pointedly then “…or yourself into something you can't handle. You're both very young, marriage and parenthood isn't something to be entered into lightly, or because you want to help someone out. It's a nice thought, but it's a lot to live up to. If things go wrong, and they do sometimes, you both have to be very strong to help each other. You can't do that at sixteen” … or even at forty or fifty …she and John had done so little to help each other in the past year. She realized now how lonely they had both been, how alone, and unable to support each other. They had been totally lost to each other.

“I love her, Mom,” he said honestly, feeling something wrench at his heart. “I don't want her to go through all that alone.” He was being honest with her, and she knew him well. She knew what he wanted to do for Maribeth, and however good his intentions were, or how sweet Maribeth was, she didn't want them to get married. Not yet, not now, and not for the wrong reasons.

“She's not alone. You're there for her.”

“I know. But it's not the same,” he said sadly.

“She needs to work this out. It's her life too. Let her find the right road for herself. If it's right for you both, one day you'll be together.”

He nodded, wanting to convince all of them that she should keep the baby and many him, but even Maribeth wouldn't agree to that, nor his parents. They were all being incredibly stubborn.

But on Thanksgiving they looked like one happy family, as they sat around the table. Liz had used their best lace tablecloth that had been John's grandmother's and a wedding present to them, and the china they only used on special occasions. Maribeth wore a dark green silk dress she'd bought for the holidays, and her thick red hair cascaded in generous waves past her shoulders. Her big green eyes made her look like a little girl, and in spite of her vast girth, she looked incredibly pretty. Liz had worn a bright blue dress, and a touch of rouge, which no one had seen in a long time. The men wore suits, and the house looked warm and festive.

Maribeth had brought flowers to Liz, big gold chrysanthemums, and a box of chocolates, which Tommy was devouring. And after lunch, when they all sat in front of the fireplace, they seemed more of a family than ever. It was their first major holiday without Annie, and Liz had been dreading it. And she'd thought of her repeatedly that day, but somehow with Maribeth and Tommy near at hand, it didn't seem quite as painful. And that afternoon, Liz and John went for a long walk, and Tommy took Maribeth for a drive. Although she had offered to work, they had given her the weekend off work, and she was staying with Tommy and his parents.

“No skating, you two!” Liz called as they drove off, and she and John walked along with the dog. They were going to drop in on some friends, and the foursome had agreed to meet back at the house in two hours and go to a movie.

“What do you want to do?” Tom asked as they drove toward the lake, but Maribeth had an odd request. He was surprised, but in some ways relieved. He had wanted to go there all day, and thought she would think he was weird and crazy if he said it.

“Would you mind terribly if we stopped at the cemetery for a few minutes? I just thought … I felt like I was taking her place today, except I wasn't. I kept wishing she was there with us, so your parents would be happy again. I don't know … I just want to stop and say hi to her.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said, “me too.” It was exactly what he had felt, except that his parents had been a lot better than they had been in a long time, especially with each other.

They stopped and bought flowers along the way. Little yellow and pink sweetheart roses with baby's breath, tied with long pink ribbons, and they set them gently on her grave, next to the little white marble headstone.

“Hi, kiddo,” Tommy said quietly, thinking of the big blue eyes that had always sparkled. “Mom made a pretty good turkey today. You'd have hated the stuffing, it had raisins.”

They sat there together for a long time, holding hands, thinking about her, and not talking. It was hard to believe that she'd been gone almost a year. In some ways it seemed only moments since she left, in other ways it felt like forever.