Replacement Baby

by Mary Ann Smart

  “I’m sorry,” Lisa apologized, not really meaning it. “But like I said, I’m grown and I need a change.”

  “Nonsense!” Mother cried. “You aren’t grown yet. Don’t speak of it again, Lisa. Besides, a woman does not need to go to college. For centuries, women did not go to college and they were just fine. You know how to read and write and how to do simple math. That’s all you need in life. College is just a waste of time and money.”

  “Mother, what if I want to be something besides a housewife?” Lisa asked. “We live in a modern world now. This isn’t the 1960s.”

  “Housewife? Are you getting married now, Lisa?” Mother’s voice had a tone of annoyance.

  “No, Mother, I’m not getting married,” Lisa replied with sarcasm. “But I want an education for a specific job. That job is to be a social worker.”

  “If you needed a job because you had no food or place to stay, then you could go get one at the employment agency without any college education.” Mother’s voice firm, she glared at Lisa. “But you are a lucky girl. I feed you and clothe you. So you can just stay right here.”

  Angrily, Lisa stormed out of the room. She stomped up the stairs, brooding. When she got into her bedroom, she threw herself on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. Sobbing, she felt helpless.

  “No crying, no crying,” she told herself. Taking a deep breath, Lisa sat up in her bed and walked over to her desk. She plopped down on the swivel chair to think of a plan, staring at the shelf above her twin sized bed. It held little souvenirs which Mother had picked up for Lisa when she traveled for work. Mostly, Mother went to England, but she occasionally went to other European countries. Two summers ago, Mother even took Lisa with her to Spain for a week.

  On the shelf, in the very middle, sat a metal Big Ben pencil sharpener. Next to it was the black and red fan, which Lisa had chosen when she went to Spain. Next to that sat was a blue and white ceramic pair of Dutch shoes, as well as a glass Eiffel Tower. A small china tea cup with red and pink roses from England sat beside a tiny ceramic red Double Decker bus. There was a miniature Cuckoo clock from somewhere in the Alps and a wooden Neuschwanstein Castle. The last item on the shelf was a thimble with Queen Elizabeth II’s face painted on it.

  Except for Spain, these are places that I’ve only dreamed about. Lisa reflected on the tiny items on the shelf. I do want to see the world. I want to explore and be free. But Mother won’t even let me go to college a few hours away. Am I going to be trapped here forever?

  Lisa lifted the china teacup and examined it. She loved the gold edges and the way that it felt cool in her hand. More than any other place, Lisa had always wanted to visit England. She had often found herself flipping to the map of the British Isles when she was looking in the atlas. She carefully placed the teacup back on the shelf and picked up the red bus. Wiping dust off of it, she put it back and placed the thimble on her finger and then dusted off the Big Ben pencil sharpener. Lisa did not share her mother’s cleanliness standards.

  What can I do now? What? She crossed her arms and stared at the faded green striped wallpaper. What if I just went to London? I’ve always wanted to go. I wouldn’t need to tell Mother. I could leave one day when she is out. I’ll fly to England. Then I can find Loretta Jennings and find out exactly who the missing baby was and why those newspaper clippings were hidden in Mother’s closet.

  Lisa heard the door downstairs slam. She glanced out the window and spotted Mother walking down the street, her shopping basket on her arm. Good, Lisa thought. She’ll be gone awhile if she’s going shopping. Reaching under her dresser, Lisa grabbed a small glass jar. Inside of it were nickels, dimes, and dollar bills. This was her leftover Christmas and birthday money from the last few years. She slowly counted and recounted each coin and bill. In all, she had only $55.42.

  “Gosh, not enough,” Lisa whispered to herself. What can I do, oh, what can I do? Lisa asked herself. I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t take it anymore.

  Remembering a folded piece of paper which she had shoved in the back of her desk drawer, Lisa rushed over to the other side of the room. She pulled open the desk drawer and rifled through sticky notes, pencils, and rubber bands until she found the tiny white paper. Opening it up, she rushed out of the room and down the hallway. She scampered downstairs and picked up the telephone in the kitchen.

  “Hello?” answered the familiar, gentle voice.

  “Hello, Mrs. Harrison?” Lisa spoke, her voice shaking. “It’s me, Lisa. Lisa Porter. I need your help.”

  “Yes, Lisa, of course,” Mrs. Harrison replied. “How can I help you, dear? Are you okay?”

  Lisa hurriedly explained about the box she found the day before and expressed her desire to go to London for a fresh start. She shared her suspicion that she could possibly be the kidnapped baby Rose. She briefly told Mrs. Harrison about Mother’s abusive actions and about how she wanted to escape.

  “Well, Lisa, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.” Mrs. Harrison spoke slowly. “You say that your mother is out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, good.” Mrs. Harrison went on. “I’ve wanted to get you away from that place for years, but you were underage. Now that you are an adult, I can finally help you. When do you think you’ll come?”

  “Now, if I can,” Lisa told her. “Mother went out with her shopping basket, and it’s Saturday. Saturday is her big shopping day, and she always takes three hours or more.”

  “If you think that it’s safe, then come at once, dear,” Mrs. Harrison said, her voice tense. “I’ll help you however I can. Please write down my address. I live in Queens now.” Mrs. Harrison gave her the address and Lisa quickly wrote it down on a notepad beside the phone. Then they said good-bye and Lisa rushed back upstairs.

  Reaching into her closet, Lisa pulled out a duffle bag. She emptied the stale gym clothes and towel from the bag. Then she stuffed in a few summer dresses, blue jeans, khaki shorts, a few T-shirts, a pair of pajamas, and an extra pair of shoes. She tossed in a toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, deodorant, and a curling iron. She put in some make-up and other toiletries. She dumped all of the money from the jar into her small purse. What if Mother comes back soon? She was worried and feeling dizzy. Peeking out the window, she saw nothing and went back to her packing. She ripped the page with all of the notes she had taken about Loretta Grigsby Jennings and Rose Garnet Jennings out of the notebook and stuffed it into her purse. Last, on her way out, she went into the front room and into the drawer where Mother kept important documents. Grabbing her passport, Lisa shoved it into her bag. Pausing to take one last look at the house she had lived in for her entire life, she sighed. She glanced out the window, but there was no sign of Mother. She walked down the creaking hallway. At the door, she grabbed her dark green raincoat and draped it over her arm. Slinging the duffle bag over her shoulder, she walked out the door.

  Lisa jogged down the street, opposite of the way Mother had gone with her shopping basket. Around the corner, she hailed a yellow cab. She repeated Mrs. Harrison’s address to the cab driver and sank down in the seat, just in case Mother were to walk by and peek through the car window.

  The cab driver drove for twenty minutes and stopped in front of a tall, narrow row house that was painted green. There was a deli on the first floor. Lisa paid the driver and stepped out. On the side of the deli, a door opened and Mrs. Harrison rushed out.

  “Oh, Lisa, dear!” Mrs. Harrison cried, her arms outstretched. “My, you’ve grown! Has it really been two years? You’re at least six inches taller!”

  “Great to see you, Mrs. Harrison! I’ve missed you a lot.”

  “And I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” Mrs. Harrison hugged Lisa tightly before taking her bag and leading her upstairs.

  “Thank you so much for having me,” Lisa said with gratefulness.

  “Of course, dear, you are most welcome,” Mrs. Harrison replied. She led Lisa into her small kitchen. “How about we chat over tea? You’l
l be drinking a lot of it in England.”

  Lisa smiled. “Sure.”

  Chapter Five

  Now that you are here, I must tell you that I’ve always wondered about your mother,” Mrs. Harrison began as she poured the tea. “Something just seemed suspicious. First of all, she’s always been so vague about where she worked. Just about her whole occupation in general.”

  “Oh, good, so I’m not crazy.” Lisa shook her head. “I’ve always thought it was weird that she never talked about work. But my friend, Kim, always said that some parents were just ‘like that.’ I feel like that’s Kim’s excuse for everything.”

  “No, Lisa, you aren’t crazy,” Mrs. Harrison agreed. “Anyhow, one morning I was cleaning around the front room and I noticed a piece of notebook paper, folded up very carefully, with two names on it. It was under the sofa, and I thought that it was trash. But just out of curiosity, I looked more closely at the names.”

  “And? What were the names?”

  Mrs. Harrison took a sip of tea and went on. “The names were Loretta Grigsby Jennings and Rose Jennings.”

  Lisa nearly choked on her tea. “You know?” She asked in disbelief.

  Mrs. Harrison nodded. “I think I know something.” She took another sip of tea while Lisa gaped at her. “Sometimes I just have a feeling about things. And after I read those names, I had this strange feeling, deep inside of me. It was as if those two names were important. I kept thinking about the two names. Why were they scribbled down and folded so well? At the time, I had only been working for your mother for a few months. You were a small thing, maybe six-years-old and cute as can be. Cute as a button, as a matter of fact. But your mother was so cold to you.”

  She shook her head sadly and took a sip of tea before continuing.

  “My dear husband and I could never have children. But I always knew that if we did, we would love them and treat them with kindness and respect. I just couldn’t understand how a mother could act like that to her own daughter.”

  Lisa wiped away a tear as it dripped onto her cheek. Mrs. Harrison noticed and grasped her hand from across the table.

  “I’m sorry if this is hard to talk about, dear.” She spoke with a gentle voice. “We can stop.”

  “No, please, go one,” Lisa encouraged her.

  “Now then, where was I?” Mrs. Harrison stirred her tea. “Oh, yes. The names. Anyhow, I always felt that those names must mean something. Then I began to observe more strange things about your mother. I will tell you more about it later, Lisa. Anyhow, a few years later, I visited my nephew in England. He works for the US Embassy and he and his family moved there. Those two names on the paper seemed British to me, so I looked in the telephone directory. I did not see anything. So after that, I went to the library archives. A kind lady there directed me to a newspaper article about a kidnapping, which you now know about.”

  Lisa nodded and Mrs. Harrison continued.

  “I began to wonder. There were other things about your mother that made me suspicious first, Lisa. When I discovered that the names had to do with the kidnapping, I began to develop a theory. I searched all week for Loretta Jennings while I was in London, but I could not find her. I found a couple clues, though.” Mrs. Harrison stopped talking to yawn. “I’m so sorry, Lisa, but I’m getting sleepy. I’m an old lady now. I feel much older than I did when I used to chase you around years ago. It’s time for my afternoon nap.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Lisa replied. “I’ll clean up the tea.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Harrison smiled. “That’s very sweet. Now, the guest room is at the end of the hall, on the left. The bathroom is across from it. Please make yourself at home.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Harrison.” Lisa reached out to squeeze the woman’s soft, wrinkled hand.

  “I’m going to go to my travel agent this afternoon and purchase you an airplane ticket to England,” Mrs. Harrison told her.

  “Wow, gosh, thanks, Mrs. Harrison!” Lisa exclaimed. “That’s super nice of you. I’ll pay you back someday, I promise.

  Mrs. Harrison waved her hand. “I know you will, and there’s no rush. I’m happy to help you. I even found two perfect travel companions for you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, the two children of my nephew.” Mrs. Harrison smiled at a fond memory. “You know, the one who works for the Embassy in London. I say children, but they are grown now, of course. They are flying to Manchester and taking a train to London. They are both very sweet and you can trust them.”

  “Okay,” Lisa replied, hesitation in her voice. She was beginning to feel bad that Mrs. Harrison was spending so much money on her.

  “Don’t worry, Lisa.” Mrs. Harrison smiled. “I’m taking care of everything, and I don’t mind a bit.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Harrison. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  “Now, don’t you worry about that right now.” Mrs. Harrison reached out and patted Lisa’s hand. “If you don’t repay me for ten years, I won’t mind. Even if you never can repay me, it is fine. I don’t have children of my own, and when my Gus died fifteen years ago he left me with a little extra money in savings.”

  “I do want to get a job once I get to London,” Lisa told her. “That way I can earn money to pay you back sooner.”

  “Now, if you are interested, I already have found a job for you.” Leaning her head back, Mrs. Harrison took her last sip of tea.

  “Really? Wow, thanks, Mrs. Harrison!” Lisa exclaimed. “You really have taken care of everything.”

  Mrs. Harrison chuckled. “I suppose that I’m a bit of a planner. Anyhow, my nephew’s sweet wife, Emma, was looking to hire a personal assistant for the summer. Her two children, you know, the two you will be traveling with, will be in town and she wants to spend more time with them. So she wants someone to help her with administrative duties for the Embassy, as well as running errands. It will only be two or three days a week.”

  “Wow, that’d be great!” Lisa was getting more and more excited about her new life in London.

  “And if you do decide to take the job, my nephew and his wife said that you can stay with them for free for the whole entire summer,” Mrs. Harrison went on. “They have a lovely house in a nice, quiet neighborhood in London. It’s quite a large house, so you’ll have your own room.”

  “Thanks for everything, Mrs. Harrison,” Lisa said to the older woman, overwhelmed with gratitude. “You treat me with more kindness than everyone ever has. It’s always been like that. You’ve always been the one person who I felt loved me more than anyone. You are a lifesaver. I couldn’t do this without you.”

  “Well, you are a very special girl to me, Lisa,” Mrs. Harrison told her. “Anyhow, I do need to take my nap. I’m not as young as I used to be, I’m afraid. You go rest and make yourself at home.”

  * * *

  Lisa spent the next three days at Mrs. Harrison’s house. At first, she was nervous that Mother might somehow track her down. But after the first day, Lisa began to feel more comfortable and less afraid. She spent her days reading and watching television. Mrs. Harrison had a large bookcase in her living room, which was filled with a variety of titles. Choosing a book of poems, Lisa read by the sunny bay window at the front of the home. When she finished the poetry book, she selected a mystery novel, which Mrs. Harrison encouraged her to take with her on the plane.

  A sense of peace overwhelmed Lisa and she enjoyed each day spent with Mrs. Harrison. The older woman cooked her delicious meals three times a day and even stayed up late chatting with Lisa. They did a lot of catching up after their two-year absence. The subject of Mrs. Harrison’s search for Loretta Jennings did not come up again, and Lisa decided not to press the matter.

  On the last night before Lisa was to leave for England, she and Mrs. Harrison sat at the small kitchen table and ate dinner. Mrs. Harrison roasted a plump chicken for the occasion. She also cooked mashed potatoes and cinnamon sugar carrots, which had been a favorite dish of Lisa’s w
hen she was a little girl.

  In the middle of dinner, Mrs. Harrison turned her gaze to Lisa with an expression of seriousness.

  “Lisa, I have something for you,” Mrs. Harrison told her. “Do you remember when I told you I had gone to London to find Loretta Grigsby Jennings?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, when I was searching I met that very sweet and kind librarian,” Mrs. Harrison went on. “I think I mentioned her to you the other day. Anyhow, I gave her my contact information when I left. She had been very helpful in finding the old newspaper articles.”

  Lisa smiled. “She does sound very kind.”

  “Hold out your hand, Lisa,” Mrs. Harrison gently commanded.

  Lisa obeyed. She held out her hand and Mrs. Harrison pressed a small piece of paper into her palm. It had a handwritten London address on it.

  “The librarian mailed me this address about a month after I left London,” Mrs. Harrison explained. “I haven’t been back to London since then to go to it, but this was the address of Loretta Jennings at the time of the kidnapping. I wrote a couple letters, but I never received any reply.”

  “Wow, thank you, Mrs. Harrison!” Lisa exclaimed. “This is great. I’ll go check this out as soon as I get to London.”

  “You are most welcome, my dear.”

  “Mrs. Harrison,” Lisa said after a pause. “I’ve decided something. From now on, I’d like to go by Rose instead of Lisa.”

  “Rose?” Mrs. Harrison raised her eyebrows.

  “Mrs. Harrison, I know that I might not be that missing baby,” Lisa told her. “Maybe it’s just wishful thinking. Maybe I just wish I had a different mother, one who is kind and loving. But I’m about to start a completely new life. And with my new life, I would like a new name. So I’d like to go by Rose.”

  “I understand,” Mrs. Harrison told her. “And Rose you shall be.” Mrs. Harrison gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  And so Lisa began referring to herself as Rose.