Later that afternoon, I called Charles Penn and told him I had decided to decline his offer.
“Family obligations,” I explained.
It took him a few moments to respond; then he said, “You got a better offer, didn’t you?”
I laughed. “Yes, I suppose I did.”
“Tell me how much,” he said. “I’ll match it.”
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “It’s upwards of a million-and-a-half.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
~ ~ ~
Eleanor was born in early June. By then I had settled into a routine that was easy to love. With two babies, two more in school and a husband who enjoyed coming in to have lunch with us, I wondered how I had ever managed both a career and motherhood.
One day when I playfully strapped Eugene in his carrier on my back and Eleanor in her infant carrier to my chest, William snapped a picture of me. When I looked at it and saw the smiles of myself and both babies, I knew I’d managed but had never taken the time to enjoy every moment as I was doing now.
Three months after Eleanor’s birth the telephone rang in the middle of the afternoon, and when I answered it was William calling from his cell phone.
“Cheryl Ann,” he said, “there’s something we need to talk about.”
Him telephoning me in the middle of the day was unusual to say the least, so I asked, “Where are you?”
“In the barn,” he answered. “I’ve got something troubling my mind and—”
“Can we talk about it later?” I said. “I’ve got Eleanor in the bath.”
“Okay. But let’s just make sure we do.”
His voice was as serious as I’ve ever heard, and I started wondering what in the world could be troubling him. I wasn’t pregnant, and I’d completely given up any thought of a job.
Oh, no. Maybe that’s it. Maybe we actually need the money and he’s going to ask me to go back to work.
That thought weighed down my heart like a two-ton brick. I worried all afternoon but couldn’t come up with any other possibility. I called him back, but there was no answer.
By the time William came in that afternoon, Violet and Felix were home from school, Eugene was up from his nap, Eleanor was in her bouncy chair and I was starting a stew for dinner. I was standing at the stove adding vegetables to the pot when he passed by and kissed me on the back of my neck.
“What did you want to talk about?” I asked nervously.
“It can wait until after dinner,” he said and went into the mudroom where he could wash up. “Smells good!” he hollered.
I was totally bewildered. Earlier his voice had such intensity, but now it was soft and easy sounding. I began to think maybe it wasn’t money, because he didn’t look one bit worried. I put the lid on the pot and followed him into the mudroom.
“What did you want to talk about?” I asked again.
He kissed the side of my face and whispered, “I’ll tell you later, after the kids go to bed.”
Our family had no secrets. We spoke openly and in front of the children. So I couldn’t begin to guess what was on his mind. Not knowing is far worse than knowing, because regardless of the situation you imagine the worst.
I turned the fire up under the stew and had it bubbling away in a matter of minutes. Dinner was on the table a full half-hour earlier than usual. Immediately after dinner, Violet and Felix were herded into their routines of tooth brushing and bedtime prayers.
“It’s not bedtime yet,” Felix complained.
“That’s okay,” I said. “It’s been a long day, and you’re tired.”
“I’m not tired,” Felix argued.
“Yes, you are.” I kissed him goodnight and snapped off the light.
By then Eugene was already asleep in his crib.
The last one down was Eleanor. Her I couldn’t rush. I sat in the rocker, held her to my breast and waited until she was satisfied and sleepy. Once Eleanor was in her crib with the blanket tucked around her, I joined William in the living room.
I sat next to him and said, “Now, what was so horrible that you couldn’t talk about it in front of the children?”
He gave me a wide-eyed look of surprise. “It’s not horrible at all! In fact I think it’ll be good.”
“What will be good?”
He snapped off the television, gave a deep sigh and leaned back against the sofa. “Well, I’ve been thinking about the kids. It doesn’t seem right that I’m a real daddy to two of them and not the other two…”
I sat there waiting.
“But if you and I adopted Violet and Felix, then we’d be a whole family.”
This was not something we’d spoken of before, not something I’d ever asked of him.
“You want to adopt Violet and Felix?” I echoed.
He gave me a big grin and nodded. “You said their birth daddies aren’t interested in being part of their life, and I think they ought to have a daddy the same as Eugene and Eleanor.”
“You know what I think…?” I drew the words out and left the question hanging.
He looked a bit puzzled. “No, what do you think?”
“I think I married the most wonderful man in the entire world!” I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him so hard I almost broke a tooth.
You might think that since neither of the fathers wanted their babies it would have been an easy slam-dunk, but it wasn’t. Even though they’d both walked away and not once looked back, I had to track Nick and Vince down and get them to sign a release saying it was okay for William to adopt their unwanted children.
Nick was easier than Vince. The gas station Nick had worked for was torn down years ago, but I remembered Herb had said Nick moved back to Baltimore. That’s where I started. There were nineteen Nicholas Lombardis in Baltimore. The one I was searching for was number twelve.
I explained that I had gotten married and my husband wanted to adopt Violet.
“He’s already like her father,” I said, “but we wanted to make it official.”
“How is she?” Nick asked wistfully.
I started to say “Good,” but then I changed it. “No, actually, she’s great. Smart and beautiful and—”
“Okay,” he cut in. “Send me the paperwork.”
Vince was far more difficult. I remembered his last name was Dougherty and that he came from somewhere in the Wyattsville area. I searched the Richmond County phone book and three surrounding counties and came up with four Vince Doughertys, none of which were him.
I backtracked the connections of that night. He had been a friend of Amy Elkins, but even back then I’d only known her in passing. I searched the telephone directory then called A. Elkins, A.R. Elkins and Amie Elkins. None of them were her.
I called Nicole. “Do you remember that girl, Amy Elkins? She was at the Horsehead the night of that party?”
Nicole chuckled. “Good grief, that was almost nine years ago!”
“Yes, I know,” I said. I explained about William wanting to adopt Violet and Felix. “The thing is I need to get a signed release from Vince, the guy that…”
“Yeah, I know who you mean.”
Following our conversation, Nicole made several phone calls and got back to me a few days later.
“I found Amy,” she said. “She gave me Vince’s cell phone number. She wasn’t sure if he still had the same number but thought so.”
That afternoon I called the number Nicole had given me. The phone rang twice and then was redirected into voicemail.
“I’m not available,” the voice said. “Leave a message.”
There was no mention of his name.
“Hi,” I stammered. “I’m trying to reach Vince Dougherty. My name is Cheryl Ann McLeod. If you could call me back I’d appreciate it.” I rattled off my telephone number and hung up.
Two days later I got a call back.
“Cheryl Ann?” he said. “This is Vincent Dougherty. You left a message on my phone?”
�
��Yes,” I said anxiously. “Thank you so much for calling.” I launched into a jittery explanation of how McLeod was my married name, and he most likely remembered me as Cheryl Ann Ferguson.
Sounding somewhat bewildered he said, “Do I know you?”
“It’s been a while,” I said. “Almost nine years, but we were together after that party at the Horsehead—”
“Nine years? What party?”
I backed up and went step by step through the whole sorrowful mess, explaining how I’d had a baby and spoken to him afterward asking whether he wanted to be involved in his son’s life.
“Are you looking for money or something? Because if you are—”
“I am not looking for money,” I said emphatically. “I’m married now, and my husband would like to adopt Felix legally. All I want from you is a release stating that you’ve given your consent to the adoption.”
“I don’t even remember you, and I’m not gonna sign something saying he’s my kid. I sign a paper like that, then you come back looking for money. Is that the game?”
“No game,” I said. “All I want is for my husband to be able to legally adopt Felix.”
“I don’t know,” he grumbled. “I don’t feel good about doing this.”
I begged and pleaded. Finally he said that if I would first send him a notarized statement saying he was in no way financially responsible, he’d consider signing the release.
“But,” he said, “I’ve got to get that notarized letter from you first.”
I took down his address and said I would send it. When I hung up the phone, I stood there shaking. I felt so stupid and ashamed of myself. How could I have ever let such a man touch me? I carried his baby for nine months, suffered through the agony of childbirth and raised the child he fathered, yet he didn’t even remember my name. I cried for well over an hour, not because of Vince but because of my own shame.
That night after the kids were in bed, I sat beside William and told him of the conversation. He listened with his head bowed, his forearms resting on his thighs and his hands dropped down between his knees. I told him of my shame and cried again. When I finished the story he took me in his arms and held my head against his chest.
“That’s behind you,” he said. “Let’s not waste time looking behind us; let’s look ahead to the future.”
It took almost six months before we got both releases and filed the adoption papers. The day the court gave us their stamp of approval, our whole family celebrated with root beer floats.
We celebrated because we truly were a family now.
The Legacy
Two months after the adoptions were finalized, I received an envelope in the mail. I recognized the return address in Lawton and tore it open immediately.
There were three things in the envelope: a note from LeAnn, a picture and a newspaper clipping.
I am so proud of our girl, LeAnn wrote, and I know you will be also. A week from Friday is her high school graduation. She has been named valedictorian and will be giving the keynote address. Dean and I will both be attending the ceremony, and although I have only two tickets for the seating area if you slip into the back gallery after the program has started you can listen to what she has to say.
I hope these past years have been kind to you. God knows ours have been truly wonderful because of your great generosity.
We are and will continue to be eternally grateful.
Love, LeAnn
I held the picture and studied the face. It was Morgan, but if you tilted your head one way or the other you could have believed it was me when I was her age. She had the same eyes, the same curve of her chin, the same smile. Her hair hung down in loose ripples, just as mine did.
Morgan was almost the same age I was when I left Spruce Street. I thought about that year and wondered if back then I had ever been so young and innocent looking. She was Ryan’s daughter but had none of his features. She was all me. Me, young and hopeful. Me, starry-eyed and looking forward to the future.
I set the picture aside and read the newspaper clipping. It referenced the upcoming graduation and said Morgan Stuart, daughter of Dean and LeAnn Stuart of Lawton, would be the keynote speaker.
~ ~ ~
On Friday, June 6th, William was up long before dawn. He downed a quick cup of coffee and headed out to milk the cows, feed the chickens and attend to the chores that couldn’t be put off for another day. It was almost one-thirty when he returned to the house.
“You’ll have to hurry,” I told him. “The ceremony starts at three.”
He grabbed the sandwich I had waiting and headed for the shower. Sally Lundmann’s car pulled into our driveway minutes later. She climbed out and hurried inside.
“Thank you so much for watching the children,” I said. “Eugene and Eleanor are both napping, and the school bus will drop Violet and Felix off at the end of the driveway at two-fifteen.”
I double-checked to make sure Sally had my cell phone number and told her to call if there was any problem. She assured me everything would be fine.
“Stop worrying,” she said. “Just go and enjoy yourself.”
I am not a person with secrets. There are many things in my past that perhaps should have been kept secret, but they were not. Secrets are only a hair’s breadth away from lies, and in my lifetime I had already witnessed more than enough lies.
Sally knew about Morgan, just as William and the children knew. I had always hoped that one day my Baby Girl would come in search of me. If or when she did, our door would be thrown open wide and I would wrap my arms around her. She would meet the brothers and sisters who for so many years had heard the mention of her name.
I know we will never be her family. She has a family, a family who adores her. It is as it should be. I am content to simply be her birth mother, the woman who brought her into this world. My first child may never find a place in her heart for me, but I will forever hold her in mine.
~ ~ ~
The ceremony was underway when William and I quietly slipped through the auditorium doors and stood in the back corner. We anxiously waited through three other speeches before Morgan was introduced.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, honored guests and faculty, please allow me to introduce our next speaker and the Class valedictorian, Morgan Stuart.”
A round of applause with cheering and foot stamping followed the introduction.
“Go for it, Morgan!” one of the students in the audience shouted.
She stepped to the microphone, poised and ready.
“Fellow graduates,” she began, “over the past four years here at Lawton High we have learned a lot. Now, as we move forward into the world, we will discover how much more we have yet to learn…”
She spoke of the importance of relationships, the importance of community and how they, the students of today, were the building blocks of the future.
“Your success in this world will not be measured by the achievements of today,” she said, “but how you handle the adversities of tomorrow. The achievements of today belong not to us but to those who have brought us to this moment. Our families, our teachers and the countless others who have lifted us up and spurred us on.”
She glanced down at a group of parents sitting in the audience. “We all have people to thank, I perhaps more than anyone.”
Her voice was strong and filled with compassion. She had my face, but her ways and movements were those of LeAnn.
“We all thank our mothers and fathers,” she said, “but I have two mothers to thank. Before I was born my birth mother selected my family for me. She chose a father and mother who would love me, care for me, nurture me and bring me to where I am today. My birth mother faced an overwhelming amount of adversity, but she loved me enough to give me a childhood free of those things. I hope to become just such a woman: a woman who can rise above what is and see the future of what can be.”
She lifted her face and looked out into the audience, and for a brief moment I wondered if per
haps she knew I was there. If she had somehow spotted the face that was an older version of her own.
“And so, my fellow graduates, as we leave Lawton High and begin the next phase of our life, we carry with us the memories of what was, but let us also stand ready to build a future for those who follow in our footsteps.”
I pulled a tissue from my pocket and wiped away the tears rolling down my cheeks. When the principal stepped to the podium and began to give his closing remarks, William and I slipped out the door.
As we crossed the campus heading back to the parking lot, William wrapped his arm around my waist and snuggled me close.
“Cheryl Ann,” he said, “have I ever told you how very proud I am of you?”
I looked up at him and smiled. “Possibly. But I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”
~ ~ ~
I once thought my greatest achievement in life was simply surviving. Now I look back and realize how foolish such a thought was. A person’s worth cannot be judged by the amount of money they make or the things they own. A person’s worth can only be measured by the value they have passed along to others.
I am older now and wiser. I see my five beautiful children and know they are a legacy that will stretch far beyond my years.
Yes, I include Morgan as one of mine, because in my heart she still is, and will always be, my Baby Girl.
~ ~ ~
~ turn the page for A Note from the Author ~
A Note from the Author
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~ turn the page for More by Bette Lee Crosby ~
Baby Girl Page 18
