The Gift

“They're not 'their' affairs, they're hers. Those people have left her to solve her own problems at a time when she really needs them. They've left her completely to her own devices. As I see it, they've lost their right to dictate the terms, based on their failure to support her.”

“They may not see it that way.” He smiled, sometimes he loved the way she got involved, and cared so much about everything, and sometimes she drove him crazy. She hadn't cared about anything in a long time, and he was glad in a way that Maribeth had sparked that in her again. She had sparked a lot of things, in all of them. In some ways, he felt fatherly toward her. “Let me know what you decide,” he said, smiling again as she turned off the light.

“Will you come with me if I go to see them?” she asked bluntly. “I want to see them for myself before she goes back there,” Liz said, feeling unusually maternal toward Maribeth. Maybe one day, she might even be her daughter-in-law, but whether she was or not, she was not going to just abandon her to unfeeling parents.

“Actually, I'd like that.” He grinned at her in the dark. “I think I'd enjoy watching you give him a piece of your mind.” He chuckled and she laughed. “Just let me know when you want to go,” he said quietly, and she nodded.

I'll call them tomorrow,” she said thoughtfully, and then she turned on her side and looked at her husband. “Thanks, John.” They were friends again, nothing more. But that was at least something.

Chapter Nine

With much regret, Maribeth gave them notice at the restaurant the Monday after Thanksgiving. She and Liz had talked about it again, and she had agreed that she needed time to prepare properly for her exams, and the baby was due right after Christmas. She was going to leave work on the fifteenth, and the Whittakers wanted her to come and stay with them from then until the baby was born. Liz said she shouldn't be alone, in case something happened. And they assured her that they really wanted her with them.

She was overwhelmed by the kindness they had offered her, and she liked the idea of staying with them. She was getting nervous about the delivery now, and staying with them meant she could do more work with Liz, and maybe even get more credits toward school. Not to mention being closer to Tommy. It seemed like an ideal arrangement, and Liz had convinced John that having her there until the baby came was something special they could do for Tommy.

“And she'll need someone to be with her afterwards,” Liz explained. “It'll be awfully hard for her with the baby gone.” She knew how much pain that would cause her. Having lost her child, she understood only too well what it would cost Maribeth to give up her baby. The agony would be intense, and Liz wanted to be there for her. Without thinking about it, she had come to love the girl, and the bond between them had grown as they worked together. Maribeth had a remarkable mind, and she was tireless in her efforts to improve it. It was something she wanted desperately. It was her only hope for a future.

Everyone at the restaurant was sad that she was moving on. But they understood. She said that she was going back to her family to have the baby but she had never told anyone that she'd never actually been married, or that she wasn't planning to keep the baby. And on her last day there, Julie gave a little shower for her, and everyone brought her little gifts for the baby. There were little booties and a sweater set one of the girls had knitted for her, a pink and blue blanket with little ducks on it, a teddy bear, some toys, a box of diapers from one of the busboys, and Jimmy had bought her a high chair.

And as she looked at all the little things they'd given her, Maribeth was overwhelmed with emotion. The sheer kindness of it tore at her heart, but even more than that the realization that she'd never see her child use any of it brought home to her for the first time what it really meant to give up the baby. The baby was suddenly real to her as it had never been before. It had clothes and socks and hats and diapers and a teddy bear and a high chair. What it didn't have was a daddy and a mommy, and when she got back to her room that afternoon, she called Dr. MacLean and asked what progress he'd made in locating adoptive parents for the baby.

“I've had three couples in mind,” he said cautiously, “but I'm not sure one of them is the right one.” The father had admitted that he had a drinking problem and Avery MacLean was loath to give them a baby. “The second ones just found out that they got pregnant on their own. And the third family may not want to adopt. I haven't talked to them yet. We still have some time.”

“Two weeks, Dr. MacLean …two weeks …” She didn't want to bring the baby home, and then give it away. That would be torture. And she knew she couldn't go home to the Whittakers with a baby. That would be too much of an imposition.