The second woman, the one wearing fur, grunted. “I wouldn’t be surprised. I wonder who it is. The girl, I mean.”
The first woman clucked her tongue. “Poor thing. If she was looking for some help with the baby, she chose the wrong person to get involved with. I don’t know what her mother and father were thinking. I would never have allowed my Judith to go out with a boy like Justin Morrow.”
Carefully and noiselessly, Sarah placed the red plastic basket on the floor, and head down, hurried toward the exit. She had to get away from those women and their pity and judgment.
Once through the double sliding doors, Sarah stood under the leaden March sky and took a deep breath. She hoped the two women hadn’t noticed her scuttling past them, but even if they had, what would it have mattered? It wouldn’t be long before everyone in Yorktide knew that Sarah Bauer was the “poor thing” that Justin Morrow had gotten pregnant.
She took another deep breath. So Justin had actually run off. That certainly explained the fact that in the past two months she had never even glimpsed him around town. She was almost able to laugh. She was so, so glad that she had turned down his offer of marriage. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind now that months, if not mere weeks, into a marriage Justin would have bolted. It was so much better this way. Difficult, yes, but better.
In fact, Sarah thought, her heartbeat calming, she felt relieved. With Justin gone from Yorktide, there was one less thing to worry about. He wouldn’t be hanging around, annoying her or interfering with her plans or pretending that he cared.
Of course, when the baby was born, he might suddenly reappear, determined to play a part in his child’s life. What would she do then? Would she be under a legal obligation to have a relationship with him?
Stop it, Sarah told herself. Don’t dwell on this now, not here alone in this parking lot. She had to keep in mind that she was not alone on this journey. Her family would deal with Justin’s interference if and when it occurred. They would get a lawyer if they had to. Just last year her father had done a big job for a lawyer with a huge house out on Ridge Road. Mr. Jones was a decent guy; her father had said so. Maybe he could help them.
Sarah got onto her bike. She felt bad that she had run out of the store like a coward. She had acted like Justin had; she had run away from an unpleasant situation. But surely, responsibility for buying oranges did not compare to responsibility for raising a child! Still, she was sorry she had let her mother down, but not sorry enough to go back inside the grocery store. What if those two well-dressed women were still there, talking about the Bauers being bad parents?
Sarah began to pedal. There was still a way to make things right. On the way home, she took a detour to stop by a small specialty food shop in downtown Yorktide. There she paid more for four oranges and two grapefruit than she would have paid for a dozen of each in the supermarket.
Chapter 51
Why can’t I let this go? Why can’t I accept Sarah’s decision to keep her baby?
For a moment Adelaide wondered if those words had actually come out of her mouth. She looked around from the rack of perfectly ordered gift cards she had been pretending to straighten. No. The words had not been spoken aloud. Cindy was still studying the stack of paperwork on the counter before her.
“Did you happen to see that special last night on the New Hampshire public broadcasting station?” Cindy asked then, raising her head. “The one on the history of lace making.”
“No,” Adelaide said. “I didn’t even know it was on.”
“It was wonderful. You should try to catch it when they run it again. They always run those specials more than once, don’t they? I remember—”
“Cindy?” Adelaide took a deep breath. “Are you really one hundred percent certain that adoption isn’t something you want to encourage Sarah to consider?”
Cindy nodded. “Yes. One hundred percent.”
“Because—”
“We can take care of our own, and we will.”
Cindy’s tone made Adelaide hesitate, but only for a moment. “Of course, but—”
Cindy slapped the palm of her hand onto the counter. “Why do you keep insisting on this?” she demanded. “Sarah’s made up her mind. We’ve made up our minds, as a family. Now, please, leave it alone.”
Adelaide was struck with regret. She had never seen Cindy so upset. “I’m sorry,” she said promptly. “Really, I am.”
Cindy took a deep breath. “It’s all right,” she said after a moment. “I know you mean well.”
“I do. I did.” Adelaide knew it was time. “Look, Cindy,” she said. “I want to tell you something. Maybe I should have told you before now, but it’s not something I find easy to talk about.”
“All right,” Cindy said, though her tone expressed some wariness.
And Adelaide told Cindy all that had happened twenty-one years earlier. When she had finished, Cindy’s face was pale.
“And all these years,” she finally said, anguish in her eyes, “you’ve heard nothing of him?”
“That was the way it was planned,” Adelaide said carefully, wiping the tears that were coursing down her cheeks. She suddenly felt utterly exhausted. She had never told her story to anyone other than Jack.
Cindy reached out and took her friend’s hand. “My God, Adelaide, how can you stand it?”
Adelaide swallowed back more tears. “Honestly, some days the pain of separation feels as raw as it did that day in the hospital when . . . And other days, I find myself not thinking about him at all. But that took time to happen.”
“So time’s made it easier to bear?”
“Easier?” Adelaide laughed. “I don’t know about that. Different, yes. You learn—tricks—for getting through the day. Eventually, you don’t have to perform the tricks. They perform themselves. Well, that’s an awkward way to put it, but it’s all I can manage.”
Cindy nodded. “I understand. Something like that happened to me after my mother died. I guess we all cope with loss in whatever ways we can.”
“So, again, I’m sorry for harping so much on the idea of adoption. It’s just that I feel so afraid for Sarah. I’m afraid that she’ll miss out on opportunities for education and financial security. I’m afraid that she’ll miss out on a chance for love, too. If she keeps the baby, she’ll never know what it’s like to fall in love as an independent woman. She’ll always have the baby to consider, and that’s a big burden for such a young person.”
“But of course I worry about those things, too,” Cindy told her. “We’re not going into this wearing blinders, Adelaide, I assure you. And yes, I know that no matter how much you prepare for life, it can surprise you in all sorts of ways, good and bad. I know we’ll have troubles. But we’d have troubles no matter what Sarah had decided to do about the pregnancy. A different bundle of troubles, but troubles nonetheless.”
Adelaide sighed. “You’re right, of course. You can’t avoid trouble in this life. Every decision is going to occasion both the good and the bad. I’m sorry, Cindy, again. You know you have my full support, Jack’s too.”
“There’s no reason to be sorry,” Cindy assured her. “I wish I’d known what you’ve been through before now, though. I’d have better understood why Sarah’s situation was troubling you so much. Anyway, thank you for telling me. It will go no further.”
“I’d appreciate that, Cindy. Thank you. Other than Jack, and now you, no one in my life knows. Well, my parents know, of course, they were there, but thankfully it’s not something we ever talk about.”
Her father, Adelaide thought, had probably erased his daughter’s youthful indiscretion (that’s what he might call it) from his memory. Her mother . . . well, she really had no idea what her mother had done with the memory of her daughter’s youthful shame. Did she ever think about the grandchild she would never know? Adelaide frowned. Why, after all this time, would her mother suddenly care?
“Cindy,” Adelaide said, “this just occurred to me. Do you think it
might help Sarah in some way if she knew that I had a baby at seventeen, that I put him up for adoption?”
“No,” Cindy said forcefully. “I mean, no, I don’t think it would necessarily help her.”
“Okay.”
“I should get back to this order form.”
“Yes,” Adelaide said. “I think I’ll make us another pot of coffee.”
Chapter 52
The workday was coming to a close. They hadn’t spoken much since Adelaide’s revelation, but Cindy felt the silence was a healing, more than an awkward one. This feeling was partly what helped Cindy make her decision.
When the last customer had gone and the door had been locked behind her, Cindy turned to her friend. “Adelaide,” she said, “you shared something important with me today. Now, I want to share something important with you.”
“Okay,” Adelaide said, putting aside the receipts she had been reviewing.
“I lost two babies to miscarriages before Sarah was born. The second one almost cost my life.”
“Oh, Cindy,” Adelaide cried. “I’m so sorry. And you risked getting pregnant again.” Adelaide shook her head. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or appalled.”
Cindy grinned. “I was stubborn. And determined. And in the end, I was very lucky. Sarah’s pregnancy was a bit rocky; I spent the last month on bed rest. Stevie’s was a breeze. Can you imagine, after all I’d been through? Anyway, after that, Joe had a vasectomy. I might have been willing to take another risk, but he put his foot down and I realized he was right. No more taking chances with my life.”
“Well,” Adelaide said, “I must say you’re a braver woman than I am.”
“Or, more pigheaded. But the point is, I feel so grateful to have my girls; they seem like a bit of a miracle to me. The idea of giving away a child—Sarah’s child—who is in some ways my own flesh and blood, is insupportable. I just can’t allow it to happen.”
“Even if that’s what Sarah really wanted?” Adelaide asked.
“Yes. I know that’s selfish of me, but that’s how I feel. And in some ways, making this quilt for the baby feels like, I don’t know, another way to bind him—or her—to us.”
“I think I can understand,” Adelaide said. “Does Sarah know about the miscarriages?”
“Yes. I told her, leaving out the nastier details, of course. And of course, Sarah’s doctor knows, just in case there could be a problem I might have passed along. But Dr. Westin thinks that Sarah is just fine. So far, anyway.”
“Well, it seems we both have our traumas to survive.”
“Women’s traumas. So different from the traumas unique to men.”
“What are they, really, I wonder?”
“Traditionally? Having to support a family. Keeping a nicer lawn than the neighbors. Going to war.”
Adelaide nodded. “Well, women share all of those responsibilities now. They can join the armed forces, even if they’re not allowed into combat.”
“That’s true. But still, men think differently than we do. They feel differently.”
“Yes,” Adelaide said. “I suppose they do. That’s why we cry at movies that make men yawn with boredom. That’s why we ask for help when we’re lost and don’t insist on driving around in circles, expecting to force the right way out of our brains.”
“All the old clichés. All, or mostly, based somewhat on fact. Or on what we’ve come to agree is fact.”
“It’s a bit depressing, if you ask me.”
Cindy shrugged. “It’s just the way life is. I don’t think the differences between men and women are worth getting depressed about. Or angry about, for that matter.”
“Well, maybe you’re right,” Adelaide said. “The differences do make life interesting.”
But then Cindy thought of Justin, of how he had so blithely walked away from his child—and the mother of his child. Of course there were women who abandoned their children. Of course there were. But they were a small minority among a vast majority of women who would never dream of walking away when things became inconvenient or even when they became terribly difficult.
Cindy regarded her friend. Not that she considered Adelaide one of those cold and irresponsible women. Still, Cindy didn’t want Sarah to know that someone she very much admired had made the choice for adoption. It might make her rethink her own decision.
“I had a few ideas about the baby’s quilt,” Cindy said now. “I’ll bring the sketches into the shop tomorrow.”
Adelaide smiled. “Good. I’ll look forward to seeing them.”
Chapter 53
Cordelia frowned. “How do you eat so much and not gain weight?”
Stevie shrugged.
The girls were in the Kanes’ kitchen. “It must be metabolism. I mean, what else could it be? It’s not like you run five miles every day. Do you?”
Stevie raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? I mean, I like soccer, but I only play it because the school says we have to play a sport.”
“Ugh. I know. I think it’s cruel and unusual punishment. I mean, do you know how many nails I’ve broken trying to catch a stupid ball?”
Stevie smiled, but Cordelia wasn’t really sure she had heard her.
“You know,” Stevie said suddenly, “it’s kind of weird. I was the one who played with dolls and dressed my cat Orangey, the one I had before Clarissa, in bonnets and took them all for walks in a plastic stroller. Not Sarah. And now she’s the one having a baby.”
“An unplanned baby,” Cordelia said. “Which is not the same thing as a planned one.”
“No. It isn’t.”
“Do you want to have kids someday?” Cordelia asked.
Stevie shrugged; Clarissa stayed firmly aboard Stevie’s shoulder. “Maybe. I don’t really think about it.”
“Good. You’re way too young to be thinking about those things.” Cordelia grimaced. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sound like a mom.”
“That’s okay. What about you? Do you want to have kids?”
Cordelia laughed. “I’m even too young to think about it! All I know is that if I was going to have a baby I’d definitely want to be married first. There’s no way I would choose to be a single mom. I’m way too lazy.”
“My mom always says never to say never.”
“Well, believe me, in this case I am saying never and meaning it!”
Stevie’s face suddenly darkened.
“What’s wrong?” Cordelia asked. Stevie’s mood could change as quickly as Clarissa could leap across a room.
“Nothing. Just something I was thinking about the other day.”
“You can tell me.”
“It sounds really awful but . . . well, do you think Justin, you know, forced Sarah?”
Cordelia didn’t answer immediately. The fact was she had wondered the same thing herself. After all, Justin was so much bigger and stronger than Sarah. Worse, she had read online that seven percent of girls who had sex before the age of twenty reported that it was “nonvoluntary.” Worse again, that sort of thing was more likely to happen if the guy was two or three years older than the girl. Seven percent might not sound like a lot, but it was seven percent too much in Cordelia’s opinion! And what about the girls who didn’t admit to having been forced, the girls who were too afraid or embarrassed or ashamed to tell the truth?
Still, for all of Justin’s faults, and there were many, Cordelia didn’t see him as a rapist. Nothing Sarah had ever said or done while she had been dating him had ever struck Cordelia as in the least bit worrisome, a clue that she was afraid.
“No,” she said finally. “I really don’t think that’s what happened.”
“Good.” The relief in Stevie’s tone was unmistakable. “Because if it were true, I don’t know how I could look at the baby without thinking about . . . what had happened.”
Cordelia felt the same way, but she decided not to voice her agreement.
Stevie went on. “This probably sounds crazy but . . . I don’t know. If a baby is born th
at way, because the man forced the woman, does that somehow . . . Can the baby grow up to be a good person? I mean, some people have criminal parents but aren’t criminals themselves. It just seems like . . .”
“Like a disgusting burden to pass onto a child,” Cordelia blurted. “I know. But the child is innocent, one hundred percent. Just because his biological father was a jerk doesn’t mean that he will be. Or she.”
“I guess you’re right. Sometimes my thoughts get really dark.”
“That’s where you and I differ. I hardly ever have really dark thoughts.”
“You’re lucky, I guess.”
Cordelia shrugged. “Am I? Maybe I’d be smarter, more intellectual or something, if I did have dark thoughts.”
“Misery doesn’t mean brilliance.”
“Did you just make that up?”
“I read it somewhere,” Stevie said. “But I think it’s true.”
“Well, you’re probably right. There’s this Goth guy in my grade who mopes around all the time, and he failed two classes last semester.”
“But maybe he’s just pretending to mope around,” Stevie pointed out. “Maybe his thoughts are all totally shallow.”
Cordelia laughed. “It’s official. You are just way smarter than me!”
Chapter 54
Sarah sat at the kitchen table, looking glumly at her bank statement. Her mother had opened the savings account for her when she turned twelve, and Sarah had been putting money into it regularly. She had almost a thousand dollars in savings, but it didn’t look as if she would be making many significant deposits for some time to come. Not with the loss of all of her significant babysitting clients.
Just last Saturday Sarah had shown up at the Blanchard family’s house as arranged only to find another girl, someone Sarah recognized vaguely from town, already there to watch little three-year-old Mylie and Kylie while their mother went to her tennis lesson.
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