The Gift

“We'll find someone, Maribeth. I promise. And if not, you can leave the baby at the hospital for a couple of weeks. We'll find the right couple. We don't want to make a mistake, do we?” She agreed with him but the high chair in the corner of her room suddenly seemed ominous. They had all made her promise to call and tell them what sex the baby was, and she had said she would. And knowing that she had lied to all of them made it all the harder to say goodbye, especially to Julie.

“You take care of yourself, you hear!” Julie had admonished her. “I still think you ought to marry Tommy.” Maybe she would after the baby came, they all said after she left. And Dr. MacLean was still wondering the same thing when they hung up. He didn't want to help her give the baby up, only to find that she and Tommy would regret it later. He had thought of discussing it with Liz, to see what she thought about it, if they were really serious about giving the baby up, but he wasn't sure how the young couple would feel about his talking to Tommy's parents. It was a sensitive situation. But he could sense Maribeth's urgency now. It was clear that she wanted some resolution, and he promised her, and himself, that he'd launch a serious search for adoptive parents.

The day after she left the restaurant, Tommy helped her move all her things into Annie's room. She put the baby's things that they'd given her in boxes in the garage, and said she'd send them to the hospital for the adoptive parents. It still made her feel choked up to look at them. It made it all seem much too real.

On Saturday morning, Liz explained that she and John had to go out of town until the next day. He needed to look at some produce markets across the state line, and they wouldn't be back until Sunday. She was faintly uncomfortable about leaving them alone, but she and John had discussed it at length and knew they could be trusted.

Tommy and Maribeth were grateful for the time alone, and had every intention of behaving themselves, and not letting his parents down. And as pregnant as Maribeth was, there were no serious temptations.

On Saturday afternoon, they went Christmas shopping. She bought his mother a small cameo pin, it was expensive for her, but she thought it was very beautiful and looked like something she'd wear, and she bought his father a special pipe for bad weather. And as they wandered through the stores, she looked at some baby things, but she always forced herself to put them back and not to buy them.

“Why don't you buy it something from you? Like a teddy bear, or a little locket or something?” He wondered if doing that might get it out of her system, and it would be something she could send with it to its new life and new parents, but her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. She didn't want any trace of herself on the child. She might be tempted to look for it then, or look searchingly at every child she saw wearing a locket.

“I have to let go, Tommy. Completely. I can't hold on to it.” A little sob caught in her throat as she said it.

“Some things you can't let go of,” he said, looking at her meaningfully, and she nodded. She didn't want to let go of him, or the baby, but sometimes life made you give up what you loved most. Sometimes there were no compromises or bargains. He knew that too. But he had already lost more than he ever wanted to. And he was not willing to give Maribeth up, or her baby.

They went home with their packages, and she cooked dinner for him. His parents weren't due back till the following afternoon. And it was like being married, fussing over him, and cleaning up the dishes afterwards, and then sitting down to watch television. They watched Your Show of Shows, followed by Hit Parade. And as they sat there side by side like young newlyweds, Maribeth looked over at him and giggled, and he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.

“I feel like I'm already married to you,” he said, loving it, and feeling the baby kick as he held her and rubbed her stomach. They were surprisingly intimate, considering that they had never made love. But it was hard to remember sometimes that they hadn't. She could feel him springing to life then as she sat on his lap, and she kissed him and felt him grow harder. He was after all only sixteen, and almost everything she did made him horny.

“I don't think you're supposed to get excited over four-hundred-pound girls,” she teased, and then got up and walked across the room, rubbing her back, which was achy. They had walked a lot that afternoon, and lately the baby seemed to be a lot lower. There was no doubt that it was going to be born soon, or that it was going to be a very big baby. She was a tall girl, but her hips were narrow, and she had always been thin. Maribeth was beginning to panic every time she thought about giving birth to a baby.

She admitted it to him that night, and he felt sorry for her. He just hoped it wouldn't be as bad as they both feared.