“I, uh, I came here for Jimmy’s sake,” she said quietly.
“I don’t understand.”
“Jimmy has family here.”
A strange, almost electrical rush ran through George at these words—and somehow he knew exactly what she was saying. Yet surely it was impossible.
“Your son and I had planned to get married,” she said a bit breathlessly. “James had filled out the marriage license, and we were going in the next day. But he got called back to the ship that evening.” Tears were pouring down her cheeks now. “And, well, we knew he was going into active duty and—” She collapsed into sobs and George was so shocked that he was literally speechless. Instead of saying a single word, he got out of the chair, wrapped his arms around her, and simply held her in the same way he would hold his own daughter.
“There, there,” he finally said. “It will be okay, Amelia. Everything will be okay.” But now she was starting to wheeze and cough again and he knew these tumultuous emotions were not helping her condition. If he’d had any clue that her story was so complicated and difficult, he wouldn’t have made his inquiries.
“Lean back.” He fluffed the pillows behind her. “Take a slow, deep breath and try to relax.”
She leaned back, but between her tears and the wheezing, he knew that she needed help. He gave her a mild tranquilizer, then went to find the head nurse, requesting the oxygen tent once more. “Just for the night,” he explained. “That patient is in some distress.”
As George helped the orderly get the oxygen tent arranged, he was still trying to absorb what Amelia had just confessed. A part of him was not too surprised—it was as if he had instinctively known something like this. But the other part of him was stunned beyond words. He was full of questions, but he knew his questions would have to wait until she was stronger. In the meantime, he had to break this shocking news to his wife. Poor Helene! He had no idea how she would respond. The baby that she’d been caring for and bonding with—even hoping to adopt as her own—was really her grandchild? It was more than he could take in—how would Helene possibly handle it? How would he tell her?
After a sleepless night, George knew that he had to tell Helene the truth about Amelia. It wouldn’t be easy, but it had to be done. After an uncomfortably quiet evening, Helene had become suspicious that something was troubling him. But he had blamed it on a busy day and being tired. Now, as he paced back and forth in his office downstairs, he knew what he needed to do. Hearing the baby upstairs, he suddenly wanted a good look at the child. Last night, Jimmy had already been put to bed by the time George got home.
Tiptoeing up the stairs, George found Doris just getting ready to give Jimmy a bottle. “May I?” George asked, holding out his hands.
“You want to feed the baby?”
“I do.” He nodded.
She shrugged. “Well, I guess you should know how to do it . . . being a doctor and all.” She handed him the child and then the bottle. “I’ll just leave you to it then.”
As she left the room, George sat down in the rocker. Cradling the squirming infant in his arms, he stuck the warmed bottle in the baby’s mouth, then watched with great interest as Jimmy vigorously sucked on it. Although George had always claimed that all babies looked alike, he could see something uniquely familiar in this one. He had no reason to doubt Amelia’s story.
“What on earth are you doing?” Helene asked in wonder as she came into the nursery, still wearing her dressing gown.
“Feeding the baby,” he answered nonchalantly.
“I can see that, George. But where’s Doris and why are you—”
“Because I wanted to,” he declared. “I wanted a good look at the little feller.”
Helene smiled. “He is sweet, isn’t he?”
“He’s a fine specimen of a baby.”
“Oh, you don’t have to sound so clinical, George.” She sat down on the edge of the twin bed. “He’s absolutely perfect.”
“Does he still remind you of James? I mean, when James was an infant?”
“He really does, George. Can you see it too?”
Feeling a slight lump in his throat, George just nodded. Looking down into the baby’s ocean-blue eyes . . . it was almost like seeing James—and bittersweet.
“I’m so glad you think so too. Because I’ve been giving this dilemma a lot of thought these past couple of days, George. I’m very happy that Amelia is getting better. But she is in no position to raise a child. She obviously doesn’t have a penny to her name. And she appears to have no husband or family. I think she made a very wise decision to put Jimmy in our care, and that is why I think we should offer to adopt him. That way she can have a fresh start in her life. In fact, I’d even like to help her out financially. We’ll give her train fare to California and enough money to live on until she’s strong enough to get a job. And as soon as you give me the go-ahead, I will visit her in the hospital and discuss this—”
“Stop it.” George looked intently at her.
“What?” Helene’s brow creased.
“You do not understand the whole situation.”
“Well, of course not. But I do understand that Jimmy needs a good stable home, George. And that’s something we can—”
“Listen to me, Helene,” he said with quiet intensity. “There is a reason that Amelia left San Diego to come here. A reason she decided to leave Jimmy with us. I’m surprised you haven’t guessed it yourself.”
“What?” She tilted her head to one side.
“Jimmy is your grandson, Helene. He is James’s child.”
Helene’s face grew visibly pale. So much so that George wondered if she were about to faint. “Wh-what?” she asked in a tiny voice.
“Amelia and James were about to be married. He was called back to the ship before they could wed. That’s when he left for the Pacific that last time. And she had his baby.”
“No.” Helene firmly shook her head. “That’s not possible.”
George sighed. “Of course, it’s possible. I’ve even done the math. Remember how James had leave in San Diego at Christmastime.”
“Yes, he was going to come home . . . but he didn’t.”
“Probably because he’d met Amelia around that time. And then he got called back to the ship early. Remember he called us shortly before shipping out. Shortly after New Year’s. Our conversation was cut short, but he even said that he had some good news to share. Remember, Helene?”
“That still doesn’t make it so, George. I can’t believe that James would be involved like that. He wouldn’t do anything dishonorable, George. Leave a girl in that condition. Not my son.”
“Oh, Helene.” George sighed.
“This girl made up that story.” Helene stood with clenched fists. “She thinks we have money—that she can get something from us.”
“No, that’s not—”
“We’ve been set up, George. Lured in. She’s using her baby to get to us.”
“That’s crazy, Helene.” George looked down at Jimmy. He was done with the bottle, which probably meant he needed to be burped. So, trying to act more experienced than he felt, George lifted the baby to his left shoulder as he slowly stood and gently patted him on the back. “I happen to believe Amelia,” he calmly told his wife. “She nearly died from pneumonia. She would have no reason to make up such a story. It all makes sense. It adds up just right.”
“Except that it’s all wrong,” she insisted.
“Why would you say that?” George continued to pat the baby’s back. “Aren’t you delighted to think that we have James’s baby right here with us? It’s almost like having—”
“It’s not James’s baby,” she said stubbornly. “James would not do something like that. I’m his mother. I know my own son. This is wrong. All wrong!” And just as she stormed out of the nursery, Jimmy spit up all over George’s favorite wool cardigan.
“Oh, dear,” Doris said when she found George trying to wipe his sweater with a diaper. “You go c
lean yourself up, and I’ll take care of the little one.”
As George went to change his clothes, he tried to make heads or tails of his wife. He had imagined various reactions from her, but he felt completely blindsided by this one. How could she be so absolutely certain that James was not Jimmy’s father? After all, James had been a healthy young man. Attractive to the females. And after flying as a Navy pilot these past few years, he had undoubtedly changed in some ways. George was aware that James enjoyed an occasional beer. That he’d taken up cigarette smoking—something that Helene abhorred. Why was it so hard for her to accept that it was possible that James had fathered a child as well?
13
Amelia watched as a junior nurse taped the end of some shiny green Christmas tinsel to one side of the window, then gracefully draped the strand across to the other side. Next she hung several sparkling glass Christmas balls on the strand. “How’s that?” the young volunteer asked.
“Very pretty,” Amelia told her. “Thank you for making my room more cheery.”
“You’re welcome.” The girl came over to her bed. “I heard you might get to go home before long.”
Amelia forced a smile, not caring to admit that she actually had no home to go to. “Yes, I hope to be released soon,” she told the girl. “Perhaps even by the end of the week.” Home or no home, she would be glad to escape this hospital. Not that she hadn’t been treated properly. In fact, she couldn’t remember having been so well cared for—ever. Still, it felt awkward being an “invalid.” Every day she was working to get stronger—walking up and down the hall as well as doing her breathing exercises. She felt that she was ready to be released. But she’d learned not to argue with Dr. Bradley.
“Christmas is less than two weeks away,” the junior nurse said as she straightened the cover on Amelia’s bed. “I heard it will be a white Christmas too. In fact, the radio said we might get snow by the end of the week.”
Amelia looked out the window, trying to imagine what it would look like with fresh white snow all over this town. “That would be nice.”
“Hello?”
Amelia looked up to see an attractive older woman standing in her doorway. She had on a gray fur coat and pretty hat. “Yes?” Amelia studied the woman closely and realized this was James’s mother. They had the same coloring, same straight nose and strong chin. Plus Dr. Bradley had warned her just yesterday that his wife planned to visit. He’d also explained how Mrs. Bradley was having difficulty accepting the truth that Jimmy was actually her grandson. “Actually, that’s an understatement,” he’d confessed. “So don’t be surprised if she questions you about this.” Amelia had assured him that wouldn’t be a problem and that she had, in fact, expected something like this.
“Amelia Richards?” The woman tugged on her pale gray gloves.
Amelia nodded. “You must be Mrs. Bradley.”
“That’s right.” She remained in the doorway with a hard-to-read expression.
“Please, come in.” Amelia waved toward the nearby chair.
“Excuse me,” the junior nurse said in a nervous-sounding voice. “I’ll leave you with your guest.”
“Close the door on your way out,” Mrs. Bradley instructed the girl.
Amelia watched as Mrs. Bradley slowly removed her luxurious wrap, laying it over the back of her chair before she sat down. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.” Mrs. Bradley began to peel off her fine leather gloves.
“I want to thank you”—Amelia pulled the coverlet higher, sitting up straighter in bed and inserting pleasantness into her voice—“for taking such excellent care of Jimmy. I’ve asked Dr. Bradley to convey my gratitude, but I’ve been eager to meet you and tell you personally. I know I can never repay you, but I—”
“No need to repay me.” She stiffly waved her hand.
“Well, it’s taken a load off my mind.” Amelia forced an uneasy smile. “How is he doing?”
“Jimmy is much better. Quite well. He has even gained several ounces since he’s been in our care. I weigh him daily to be sure.”
“Oh, good.” Amelia felt a mixture of relief and guilt. She felt delighted that Jimmy’s health was improved, but terrible that he’d gotten so ill during her watch. Perhaps she truly was an unfit mother.
“So . . . let me get to the point, Miss Richards. Dr. Bradley tells me that you claim to have been involved with our son—that Jimmy is James’s child.”
“That’s true.” Amelia could feel her hands trembling as she clutched the edge of the coverlet.
“Well, I do not want to offend you, Miss Richards, but that is preposterous.”
Amelia stared at her hands, struggling to think of the right words—some way to convince James’s mother of the truth . . . or perhaps it didn’t really matter.
“I know my son, Miss Richards, and I know he couldn’t possibly be the father of your child. That sort of behavior is completely out of character for my son. Perhaps you were involved with another man by the name of James Bradley. I suspect it is not an uncommon name. But I feel certain that my deceased son is not the father of your baby.”
Amelia looked up at her. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bradley . . . sorry that this is so disturbing to you. But it is the truth. And I’m also sorry that James and I did not have time to get properly married like we had planned to do . . . like we should’ve done.”
Mrs. Bradley cleared her throat, glancing toward the door as if worried that someone might come in.
“If it would make you feel better, I can show you the marriage license application that James filled out for us. Perhaps that would convince you that I’m telling you the truth.”
“Do you have that document here, Miss Richards?”
“Please,” she pleaded, “call me Amelia.”
Mrs. Bradley shrugged. “Fine. Amelia. Did you bring the marriage license application with you?”
“It’s in my suitcase. In Sally’s apartment above the beauty shop.”
“Never mind.” Mrs. Bradley waved a dismissive hand. “As I said, there are probably numerous young servicemen by that same name. Besides, it’s entirely possible that a person might counterfeit a document like that.”
“But what about facts like birth dates and birthplaces and—”
“Those facts are easily found and duplicated. Even if you produced such a document, how would I know it was authentic?” Her eyes narrowed with what looked like suspicion.
Suppressing the urge to hotly defend herself, Amelia weighed her response. After all, this was the woman caring for her child . . . and James’s mother. “But wouldn’t you recognize your own son’s handwriting?”
Mrs. Bradley’s brow creased as she pursed her lips, saying nothing for a long moment.
“Perhaps I could call Sally and ask her to—”
“What do you want, Amelia?” Her tone grew urgent. “Why are you here?”
“What do you mean?” She looked around the private room. “I was hospitalized because I—”
“Why are you here? In Rockford? Why did you abandon your baby with us?” The intensity of her stare was disturbing. “What exactly are you after? Do you think you can blackmail us for some kind of settlement?”
“No . . .” Amelia took in a slow breath, trying to remain calm. “I came to Rockford simply because I wanted Jimmy to meet his grandparents.” But she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. She had wanted to meet James’s parents too. She had wanted them to accept her . . . perhaps to even make her part of the family. Not to live with them, but simply to have a connection. In some ways Dr. Bradley had treated her like family. But she knew this woman never would. Suddenly Amelia remembered what she’d heard at Beulah’s Beauty Shop that first day—the cold, hard portrait the ladies had painted of Mrs. Bradley blossomed to life. It was hopeless.
“Let’s pretend for a moment that what you’re saying is true.” Mrs. Bradley spoke quietly, but the words were laced with insincerity. “I’ll go along with your little charade, Amelia. So what do you expect us
to do? I can only assume that you are looking for money for you and your baby and that you’ll—”
“No! That’s not it!” Amelia declared. “I don’t want your money. When I get better, I plan to go back to work. I’m a licensed beautician in California. I will get a job in a beauty salon and—”
“And what about your child? If you’re forced to support yourself, what happens to Jimmy while you’re at work?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll have to find someone to care for him and—”
“On a beautician’s wages?” She frowned. “What kind of life do you think that would be for your child?”
Amelia knew exactly what kind of life it would be—and it was not what she wanted for Jimmy. She looked out the window to see that the sky had turned dark gray, almost the same color as Mrs. Bradley’s fancy fur coat.
“What if we offered to keep Jimmy for you?” Mrs. Bradley’s voice softened.
Of course, this proposition came as no surprise to Amelia . . . and yet the actual words jolted through her like an electrical shock. She turned to look at Mrs. Bradley, surprised to see an unexpected softness about her as she peered closely at Amelia. “Dr. Bradley and I are able to give Jimmy everything he needs in life—a comfortable home, two respectable parents, good education. What if Jimmy stayed here in Rockford with us, Amelia?” Her countenance grew warm. “I love little Jimmy,” she said softly. “I would raise him as my own. As a result, he would have no social stigma attached to him—no one would know he was born out of wedlock. He might even grow up to be a fine doctor like my husband. I assure you that your boy would want for nothing if he remains with us.”
Amelia’s eyes were filling with tears, but she was determined to hold them back.
“I know it will be a sacrifice,” Mrs. Bradley said gently. “And I believe you did your best to care for him, Amelia. Despite his illness, which was quite serious, we could see that Jimmy was well cared for. He was clean and his clothing was of good quality.”
“I—I made all of his clothes.” Amelia fought back tears.
“A mother can make no finer sacrifice than to ensure her child a bright future. You have the power to do that, Amelia.”
The Christmas Blessing Page 9