But now, with Kashi not due home from work for five or six hours, she was bored. What else could she do to keep busy?
Call Meghann.
"Yeah," Meghann said, "I'd love to come over, but I have to study for my GED exam. Help me?"
Daly happily left to pick up her friend. Although she had been back in Michigan for three days, she'd spent the whole time in a cocoon with her new hubby, continuing their blessed honeymoon and conquering the fatigue brought on by jetlag—among other things.
Meghann's appearance had changed drastically during the month Daly had been away—her tummy seemed to have doubled in size. The two embraced, and sniggered when they found Daly's arms could no longer fit all the way around. They went on to discuss the newest details of their respective lives—almost all of which had already been exchanged via e-mail during Daly's absence.
Meghann had completed the fall semester of her freshman year of high school, effectively ending her secondary school experience. "Mostly, I’m relieved, but I’m a little sad, too. There’s one chapter of my life I can never reopen."
Daly nodded. "Yeah, but who cares? You get to start a much more exciting chapter in just a few weeks here."
"You’re right. Of course, you’re right." Meghann cradled her tummy and frowned.
"Hey, what’s wrong?"
Meghann shook her head and forced a smile. "This is hard, but..." She exhaled and choked back a sob.
Daly rushed in with a hug, pushing Meghann’s hair out of her eyes.
"I know what Eli and I are going to do," she murmured.
"Really? That’s fantastic. So why are you sad?"
"I’m not sad. It’s just—well, it's really great. I mean, I'm lucky to have this option. I was just—" Meghann's voice squeaked.
"Just?"
"Just waiting to tell you until I knew for sure, but right now, it seems to be ninety-nine percent going-to-happen."
Daly squeezed Meghann's shoulder. "What's going to happen?"
"I've got this great aunt who I barely know. She's never married or had kids. She lives all by herself and is really lonely. When she heard about me and the baby needing help, she offered to let us live with her as long as we needed."
"Meghann, that's fantastic!" Daly hugged her friend again. "What's making you so upset?"
"She lives in Florida. We'd h-have to move away from you and your m-mom, and I'll r-really miss you b-both." Meghann's red hair clung to her wet face in thick strands as she sobbed.
"Aww, come on. We'll talk all the time. This will not be goodbye. I can Skype you and everything."
"I guess." Meghann flicked a tear from the tip of her finger. "It's only a twenty-hour drive, and me without a license." Her laugh sounded forced.
"Don't worry, we'll come to you."
"You promise?"
"Of course, I promise. We'll miss having you around, too, but that will make our time together even more special when we do get to see each other."
"Okay." Meghann smiled.
***
In late February, the Cranbrook Academy of Art sent a response to Daly's scholarship application. While they praised her incorporation of emotion, they found her subject matter a tad redundant. They offered her admission, but not a scholarship.
Her heart sank. She couldn't afford the tuition without the scholarship. How would she tell Kashi or Meghann? And what would she do with her life now that her only option had been ripped away?
She paced to the trash with the scholarship rejection and a smattering of junk mail in hand. Before she could shred them up and shove them down, a bold letter M on the corner of one letter caught her eye. This didn't look like junk mail.
She tore into the envelope and extracted the note within. 'Congratulations! The University of Michigan is pleased to offer you admission to our undergraduate school of Art and Design. In addition, we'd like to extend a work scholarship at the University of Michigan Museum of Art....'
What? She hadn't even applied to the U of M, and now she had admission, a scholarship, and an internship. How was this possible?
Her eyes scanned the paper. 'We appreciate the dark, manic-depressive quality of your portfolio, and find your nod to Chagall's work endearing. Your mastery of artistic concept is phenomenal, and we hope you'll choose the University of Michigan to help hone your technical skill.'
Ann Arbor was a ninety-minute commute from their condo in Lake Orion, but what did that matter? They'd accepted her! She could do this—pursue her dream, fulfill her potential. This was just the beginning.
Still one huge question remained: How had this happened? She called Kashi at work, dropping hints about Ann Arbor and wolverines, but he seemed truly unaware of the mysterious application.
Perhaps Meghann had done this for her. She shot her a text: 'Know anything about art school at UM?'
Her friend's response was almost immediate: 'No. R U applying?'
That only left one person. This didn't make any sense, but she thought she'd at least ask.
Laine picked up after several rings. "Hello?"
"Hi, it's Daly. I just got my letter from Cranbrook. I got in, but I didn't get the scholarship. And tuition's way too expensive without it, so now I guess I'm going to have to consider another major."
She chose her words carefully, testing her mother. Would Laine offer her condolences, or would she resume talk of nursing school?
"That's too bad, but don't get down on yourself. Things will work out one way or another."
What does that mean? She decided to ask outright. "Do you know anything about the University of Michigan? I got a letter from them today, too?"
"Oh, and what did it say?"
"It said not only am I accepted, but they want to give me a working scholarship at the museum. Only I didn't apply there, so I'm totally confused."
Laine cleared her throat. "Well, I saw word about the scholarship online a couple months back, and while you were in India I made copies of your portfolio and sent them in, just in case. You know, it's silly not to have a back-up plan, and I just wanted—"
"Mom, stop! I can't believe you did this."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"Thank you so much!" she shouted. "This will literally change my life. I can't believe you'd do this for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Laine was quiet, but Daly sensed her mother was smiling.
***
Daly occupied herself by helping Meghann study during the day and spending time with Kashi in the evening. Every Sunday, they gathered for a fancy home-cooked lunch at Laine's, which meant they ate well—one day out of seven. For the other six, they snuggled up on the couch and feasted on takeout.
Several weeks into this routine, Kashi declared it was time for her to learn how to cook, for her own good as well as his.
Laine provided Daly with lessons whenever she asked. Kashi's mother even sent her recipes by e-mail. Daly, however, preferred to learn in solitude so she could throw all her focus into the recipe.
Her first attempt was spaghetti. The task sounded simple enough: bring the water to a boil, put the noodles in, mash up some turkey sausage, add the sauce, and let it all simmer. Simple, it was not. The meat had been so overcooked it was barely edible, while the noodles sagged soggy and waterlogged on the plate.
"Yummy," Kashi said, although half his meal remained untouched. "Want to try making it together next time?"
Daly blushed. How ironic that she needed her Indian husband to show her how to make simple Italian fare.
"Don't worry." He stroked her arm and then curled his fingers around hers. "You'll do better next time. It's a learning process, right?"
With time and practice, she began to think of meal preparation as an alternative art form. Ultimately, the art of baking excited her most. Cake decorating became her new calling—fashioning rosettes, sceneries, and calligraphy to grace her culinary masterpieces. Cooking was about presentation at least as much as taste.
For sixteen consecu
tive days, she greeted Kashi with the pungent blend of citrus zest, vanilla bean, almond extract, and the occasional hint of saffron. She set a pair of TV trays with linen napkins and gold-bordered Lennox china—a belated wedding gift from Laine. Obsessed with polishing her skills as a pastry chef, she served dinners comprised entirely of confections. Each pastry bore a flirtatious message or special image for her husband.
One day, she made a giant cookie in the shape of a heart—"I love you." Another day, a red velvet cake screamed "Give it to me, baby!"
She welcomed Kashi home from his long shift at the pharmacy by presenting him with his nude likeness on the face of a cranberry almond scone. He took one look at the ostentatious pastry and jammed the whole thing into his mouth in a single bite—ending up with a stomachache for the entire evening.
Daly's dessert-for-dinner phase ended when she found herself unable to close the zipper on her favorite jeans. For crying out loud, she couldn't even get the stupid button in the hole.
For the next three weeks, they ate nothing but salads, until Daly returned to her fighting weight.
***
The call came on March seventh at three-sixteen in the morning. Daly groaned and reached over her sleeping husband to retrieve the phone from its cradle. "Muwo?" she mumbled into the receiver.
"Daly, oh good, you're awake." It was Laine. "Listen, Meghann's water broke. She called me from the hospital. I'm stopping by on the way over to pick you up, okay? Be ready in ten minutes."
Click.
It's time! Finally time!
She shook Kashi awake. "Get up, get up. We've got to go!"
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and gaped at her.
"Meghann's baby!"
The sleepiness vanished in an instant as they rushed to get ready. Kashi slapped cold water onto his face and brushed his teeth. Daly grabbed a selection of art supplies, eager to discover what would emerge from her excitement.
Seven minutes later, Laine called from the parking lot and they ran outside.
At the hospital, they found a scared, frantic Meghann. She lay alone in the cramped room, machinery whirring around her. Beads of sweat raced across her waxen face, her whole body red with exertion. Even her eyes looked cracked.
Daly used her sleeve to wipe the frightened girl's forehead. She bit her lip and forced herself to focus, knowing Meghann would look to her for strength and encouragement through the coming hours.
Their usual roles had reversed, which terrified her. Meghann was supposed to be the strong, confident one, and Daly the quivering mess. She did her best to look brave while Meghann's face tightened into a wrinkly red ball, and the mom-about-to-be squeezed her hand and let loose a high-pitched wail.
Another wave of contractions ripped through Meghann's body.
Didn't this same pain hit me like five minutes ago?
The contractions were coming quicker now. They hurt more, too.
Just a few hours ago, she'd been lying in bed comfortably curled against her pillow, looking forward to a good night's sleep. She'd been exhausted all day, but thought it was because she'd spent the full day studying. Apparently, her body had already predicted the difficult task ahead.
A vivid dream had plagued her fitful sleep. In it, she flew freely through the air, dodging playful clouds and basking in the glow of the sun. Suddenly, the scene darkened, and an intense pain scorched her body. A hunter had shot her right in her stomach. She fell down, down, down to the earth and landed in a shallow creek. Barking broke the silence. The sound grew closer and closer, joined by the splashing paws of an eager hound.
He grasped her in his mouth. Rather than retrieving as he was trained, he jerked his head and flung her back into the air. Her body dried as the pond beneath her vanished. The water dripped from her skin, first slowly and then—woosh—in a torrent.
She'd woken with a start and found she was lying in a sticky puddle. Where did this come from? Oh....
Meghann had padded into the room where her mother and stepfather slept. Waking them up in the middle of the night like this hadn't been something she wanted to do, but since her mother was still her legal guardian, she needed her at the hospital. Luckily, her mother awoke and got up without waking her stepfather. He was up to eight beers per day—apparently, that was enough to tranquilize him for the night.
Meghann's mother had made her put a beach towel down on the seat of the car. She thrust her briefcase in beside her.
Is she really going to catch up on work while I go through this?
"Call Mrs. Daly," she'd said, thrusting a cell phone into her mother's hand.
The rest of the way to the hospital, they'd driven in near complete silence.
Meghann now focused on taking slow, measured breaths. She would not cry. But still, how could the aunt in Florida, who was practically a stranger, love her more than her own mother?
Laine knew exactly what to do, and took charge of the situation. The miracle of birth was a bloody battle that might be won or lost at any moment.
"Ice chips," she barked at the nurse's aide. "Pillow," she yelled at Daly, who immediately fluffed the flattened pillow. "Wait outside, Kashi," she instructed. "Until the baby arrives."
A nurse entered and checked the team's progress. "Only five centimeters. We still have a ways to go." She left to attend other patients.
Fat tears rolled down Meghann's cheeks as the girl bit back a sob.
"What is it?" Daly stroked her forehead and allowed Meghann to squeeze her hand.
Laine smiled to herself. Her daughter was so strong. One way or another, I've managed to raise her well.
Meghann's muffled cries broke Laine's internal reflection. "I can't do this. I'm sorry, but I just can't." She turned to Daly, her eyes begging her to work some magic to free her of the pain, and of all the hardship to follow.
"What do you mean, you can't?" Daly asked. "Can't do what? Have the baby?"
"I don't know. It's so scary. I thought I was ready, but now I'm not so sure. What if I'm not a good mommy?" She burped a second sob, this time louder.
Is she crying for the loss of her youth or for the fate of her unborn child?
"Meghann, what are you talking about? You'll be a great mom. You want this baby so bad!"
"But what if I'm being selfish? Can I give the baby his best life? Maybe I should give him to some nice couple who can't have babies of their own. They'd be older and wiser and able to give him a better life."
Daly shook her head and looked to Laine.
Laine cleared her throat. "Well, that's a decision you will have to make. Don't rush into anything right now. You're far too emotional. You'll have to contemplate the matter later, when you're in a calmer state."
"You can do this. Don't be scared," Daly said. "You can do this. Nobody can give a better life to a baby than his own mother." She glanced up at Laine—meeting her eyes and smiling—before refocusing on Meghann.
"And you're not just any other mother. You are committed to this baby. I could never be so brave, so selfless, but you're doing everything you can to make this work. And it will. You have to believe. Trust in fate. You can do this."
Meghann sniffed back her tears and placed her hands in the shape of a heart over her belly. "Do you really think I'll be good?"
Laine and Daly bobbed their heads.
"Well, I can't go through this alone." She held out her hands to either side of the bed.
Laine hesitated only a second before taking Meghann's hand; Daly grabbed hold of the other.
"I want you both to be there for the baby, too. He needs to know how much everyone loves him and wants the best for him. So he will never feel alone or unwanted. Daly, do you think Kashi would mind being the godfather? It's only natural, since no one else but you can be his godmother. Mrs. Daly, I'd like you to be his great-godmother, if that's okay."
"Of course," Laine said, not even trying to hide the grin that crept from cheek to cheek. "I would be honored." No one had ever asked her to be a godmothe
r before, let alone a great-godmother.
She would be better for her godchild as well as her daughter. They would be a family again. It was what Oliver would want... and it was what she wanted.
Meghann's labor continued another sixteen hours. As each contraction slammed into her, she faced it bravely.
When the contractions became only seconds apart, the nurse said, "It's time. I know you both want to be here, but I can only allow one of you to stay and coach her."
"Mom, you should stay. I'd be a mess," Daly said.
Laine squeezed her daughter. "I love you, Daly."
"Love you, too, Mom."
They broke their hug, and Laine straightened her shirt. "I'll come get you when it's done." She then repositioned herself beside Meghann.
"We'll be just outside. You can do this," Daly said to Meghann, then left.
Yes. A strong woman indeed. She had never been so proud.
Daly found her husband in the hallway, resting his back and shoulders against the whitewashed hospital walls. He was muttering a chain of prayers, probably begging for everything to turn out well. Not wanting to disturb him, she took to sketching in her diary, attempting to clear her mind. Neither paid much mind to the frazzled-looking woman hunched over a stack of papers, scribbling notes on a legal pad.
After an unbearably long time, Laine appeared. "It's a boy," she said with a twinkle in her eye.
Daly shoved her journal into her bag and raced into the room, Kashi in tow.
Meghann's cheeks glowed. Hair plastered her clammy face, but she looked radiant as she cuddled the baby.
Laine wiped the final beads of sweat from Meghann's brow and beamed at the child.
At long last, Elijah had arrived.
"It's a boy," Meghann whispered. Those three simple words were filled with every triumph, every fear, everything that was yet to come for mother and child. "It's a boy."
"He’s perfect," Laine said.
A Colorful Life: Drawn in Broken Crayon Page 20
