The Gift

“I know they'll try. But they can't do much now, thanks to you.” She put her arms around Liz and hugged her, still unable to believe what they were doing for her, but she had done a lot for them too. And as they spoke softly, the baby stirred and woke up, and she started to cry. Maribeth watched as Liz picked her up, and then Tommy took her. They handed her around sometimes like a little doll, everyone loving and cuddling her, and playing with her. It was exactly what she needed, exactly what Maribeth had wanted for her. And watching them, Maribeth knew that Kate would have an enchanted life. It was just what she wanted for her.

Tommy held her for a while and then held her out to Maribeth, and she hesitated for a long moment, and then changed her mind and reached out her arms. The baby instinctively nuzzled her and looked for her breast. Maribeth's breasts were still full of the milk her baby had never taken. And the baby smelled powdery and sweet as Maribeth held her, and then she handed her back to Tommy, feeling overwhelmed by sadness. It was still hard to be so near her. She knew that one day it would be easier, when her own life had moved on. Kate would be bigger then and less familiar than she was now.

I'll call them tonight' she said about her parents. She knew it was time to go home, at least for now. She needed to make peace with her parents, and then she'd be free to go on, to her own life. But when she called them, nothing had changed. Her father was blunt and unkind and asked her if she'd “gotten rid of it” and “taken care of business.”

“I had the baby, Dad,” she said coolly. “It's a girl.”

“I'm not interested. Did you give it away?” he said sharply, while Maribeth felt everything she'd ever felt for him turn to ashes.

“She's been adopted by friends of mine,” she said in a shaking voice, sounding far more grown up than she felt as she squeezed Tommy's hand. She had no secrets from him, and she needed his support more than ever. “I'll be coming home in a few days.” But as she said it, she squeezed Tommy's hand again, unable to bear the thought of leaving all of them. It was much too painful. And suddenly going back to her family seemed so wrong. She had to remind herself it wouldn't be for long. But then her father surprised her.

'Your mother and I will come to pick you up,” he said gruffly, and Maribeth was stunned. Why would they bother? She didn't know that the Whittakers had made a strong case for it. They didn't think she should go home alone on the bus, after giving up her baby. And for once, her mother had stood up to him and begged him to do it. “We'll come next weekend, if that's all right.”

“Can Noelle come too?” she asked, looking hopeful.

“We'll see,” he said noncommittally.

“Can I speak to Mom?” He said nothing more, but handed the phone over to her, and her mother burst into tears when she heard her daughter's voice. She wanted to know if she was all right, if the delivery had been terrible, and if the baby was pretty, and looked anything like her.

“She's beautiful, Mom,” she said, with tears rolling down her cheeks, as Tommy brushed them away with gentle fingers. “She's really pretty.” The two women cried for a few minutes and then Noelle got on the phone and sounded starved to hear her. The conversation was a jumble of exclamations and irrelevant bits of information. She had started high school, and she couldn't wait for Maribeth to come home. She was particularly impressed that she was going to be a senior. “Well, you'd better behave. I'm going to be keeping an eye on you,” she said through her tears, happy to talk to her again. Maybe Liz was right, and she did need to go back to see them, no matter how difficult it was going to be living in her parents' house again after everything that had happened. She hung up finally, and told Tommy they'd be there the following weekend to take her home.

The next few days went like lightning, as she got on her feet again, and got ready to leave. Liz had taken a leave of absence from work, to take care of the baby, and there seemed to be endless things to do with her, between feeding her and washing her, and doing mountains of laundry. It exhausted Maribeth just to watch her, and it made her realize all the more that she would have been overwhelmed by it.

“I couldn't do it, Liz,” she said honestly, amazed by how much work it was.

“You could, if you had to,” Liz said to her. “One day you will. You'll have children of your own,” she reassured her. “When it's easy and right, with the right husband, at the right time. You'll be ready for it then.”