The Choice

by Robert Whitlow

  “Try to get the nurse’s attention,” her mother said. “She can bring him up to the glass for a closer look.”

  “Mama,” Sandy said, “this is killing me. Let him sleep.”

  “I want to see him.”

  “Julie.” Linda put her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Please don’t push Sandy on this. It’s not fair.”

  Sandy’s mother turned to Linda, her eyes flashing.

  “You’ve never been a mother!”

  “And you’re the grandmother,” Linda answered testily. “Sandy is the mother.”

  Sandy’s mother tapped on the glass. The woman patting the baby didn’t hear and turned away before responding. Sandy started rolling the wheelchair forward.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Sandy’s mother said to Linda.

  “No, you’re out of line,” her sister shot back.

  Sandy spun the wheelchair around.

  “If you don’t stop, I’m going to scream!” she said with as much force as she could muster. “We’re going to see them from the hallway. That’s it. Why are you trying to ruin this for me?”

  Tight-lipped, her mother didn’t answer. Linda looked into the nursery.

  “There he is,” Linda said. “Just ahead in the second row. They had him there last night.”

  Sandy repositioned the wheelchair, rolled forward a few feet, and stood up. Baby Jones was closer to the window. He was wrapped snuggly in a white blanket as well and lying on his side. Sandy sucked in her breath.

  “He’s a redhead,” she gasped. “Just like Brad.”

  There was no mistaking the color of the hair on the baby’s head. He, too, was smaller than the babies beside him, but his features were perfectly proportioned. His mouth was slightly open. While they watched, he screwed up his face for a second, then relaxed.

  “Did you see that?” Sandy whispered.

  The worker who had been patting the back of Baby Smith noticed the three women on the other side of the glass and started walking toward them. She pointed at Baby Jones’s bassinet and made a hand signal asking if they wanted her to bring him closer. Sandy quickly shook her head from side to side, then glanced at her mother, who was staring stoically in front of her. The attendant gave them a puzzled look and turned away. Sandy continued to stare at the baby, whose similarity to Brad didn’t make her love him less. When her brain couldn’t absorb another detail, she sat down in the wheelchair.

  “I’m done,” she said.

  Sandy turned the wheelchair around and started going in the opposite direction. Her mother and Linda silently followed. When she was level with Baby Smith, Sandy suddenly stopped and turned the wheelchair toward the window. She’d not given him as much attention as his brother. She stood in front of the glass and created an internal photo album of every detail she could record. While she watched, the baby didn’t move a millimeter. He was a sound sleeper. She turned to her mother.

  “I’m going back to my room. You can stay if you like, and even ask one of the nurses to bring the babies closer. I won’t mind. But for me, that would be more than I can handle.”

  “I’ll stay by myself,” her mother said.

  “And I’ll go with Sandy,” Linda replied.

  Sandy let Linda roll her down the hall. They turned the corner. Numb, Sandy didn’t notice anything or anybody. Linda held the wheelchair steady while she stood up. Sandy slowly eased herself into the bed and lay down, turning her head to the side to stare at the wall. Linda left the room. Sandy had shed unnumbered tears over the past eight months, but today the fountains were dry. It wasn’t long until her mother returned and sat in the chair beside the bed.

  “I had a long talk with your daddy last night,” she said.

  Sandy waited, dreading what was coming next.

  “I already knew one of the babies looked like you and the other favored Brad. I suspected as much in the delivery room, and Linda confirmed it last night when she came back from the nursery. Since you’re determined to send the twins to separate homes, I thought we might consider taking the younger one.”

  Her mother paused. Sandy found herself holding her breath.

  “Your daddy and I could raise him and let you be involved as much as you wanted to. Years ago it wasn’t unusual for grandparents to take a primary role in a child’s life, especially when families lived close to one another. My mother spent a lot of time with her paternal grandmother. She went to her house every day after school and stayed until suppertime. It wouldn’t be necessary for us to adopt the baby. He’d still be yours. After you graduate from college, we could see how things worked out. Of course, when you get married, you would create a home of your own for him.” Her mother turned toward Sandy, her eyes imploring. “I’d like to take both babies, but I know that’s not practical. I made my choice based on appearance. It would be easier to incorporate a child into the family if he looked like you and Jack. We’d all have to sacrifice, but it would be worth it. What do you think?”

  Sandy took a deep breath and exhaled before she spoke.

  “I think you already love your grandsons, and it’s going to hurt like crazy to let them go.”

  “Will you consider it?” her mother pleaded.

  Sandy had never heard her mother use that tone of voice when addressing her. She hesitated.

  “What exactly did Daddy say?”

  “Oh, he talked in circles. Remember, it was the middle of the night. But he’ll come around eventually.”

  The two women were silent for a moment.

  “Are you willing to discuss whether this is a good idea with Mrs. Longwell?” Sandy asked.

  “It’s none of her business,” her mother said crisply. “She has an agenda.”

  “Mama, she works for an adoption agency. It’s her job to find homes for babies. And I went to her for help, not the other way around.”

  “You’d still be letting her place one baby for adoption. Mrs. Longwell wasn’t sure there would be two babies until last night.”

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  The door of the room opened and Linda walked in, then stopped in her tracks.

  “Should I go for another walk outside?” she asked. “It’s a gorgeous spring day.”

  “No,” Sandy’s mother said. “Whether you’re here or not isn’t going to make any difference.”

  Tension hung in the air for the rest of the morning. Shortly after lunch, the door opened. Mrs. Longwell and Mrs. Baker returned.

  “You’re looking better already,” Mrs. Longwell said to Sandy.

  “I’m weaker than I thought, but Dr. Berman said I should be able to go home tomorrow.”

  “That’s good news,” Mrs. Longwell said. “And I have some great news. I just confirmed that Brad signed the surrender papers around ten this morning. They are going to be sent by overnight mail to my office.”

  Sandy glanced at the envelope Mrs. Longwell had brought by earlier in the day. It was in the same place Sandy had put it when the caseworker left.

  “I haven’t opened the envelope,” Sandy said. “I’m sure it’s the same thing you went over with me at your office.”

  “It is. Are you ready to move forward?”

  Sandy looked at her mother, whose face appeared slightly flushed.

  “My mother has a question,” Sandy said.

  Mrs. Longwell shifted her gaze to Sandy’s mother.

  “I talked to my husband last night about keeping one of the babies,” Sandy’s mother said slowly. “Sandy and I have discussed it but haven’t reached a decision.”

  While her mother spoke, Sandy watched Mrs. Longwell’s face. The caseworker showed no sign of shock or disappointment.

  “What do you think?” Sandy blurted out.

  Mrs. Longwell put her hands together in front of her for a moment. It almost looked like she was praying.

  “Whether there is one baby or two, the decision to surrender parental rights is very difficult, not just for the birth mother, but for every member of
her family. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and questioning an adoption decision after a baby is born is perfectly understandable.”

  The calm way Mrs. Longwell spoke released some of the tension in the room.

  “My feelings caught me off guard,” Sandy’s mother said.

  “Based on the time I’ve spent with Sandy, I’m not surprised her mother would consider restructuring her life to raise a grandchild. Which one of the babies are you considering?”

  “The younger one,” Sandy’s mother said.

  “Stronger family resemblance.” Mrs. Longwell nodded, glancing at Mrs. Baker. “We saw that immediately.”

  “Even as a newborn, the older boy looks like Brad,” Sandy said.

  The women sat in silence for a few awkward moments.

  “Where are the prospective parents?” Sandy asked.

  “One couple is already in Atlanta. They’ve checked into a hotel and are waiting for me to call them. The other couple is flying in this afternoon. Because you requested a closed adoption, my plan was to keep them away from the hospital until you’ve checked out.”

  Sandy thought about the blond-haired woman from South Carolina. She wanted that woman to have a baby and suspected she and her airline-pilot husband were already in the city.

  “Would my number one couple still get a baby?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Sandy imagined the woman standing in front of the tree in her front yard holding Baby Jones.

  “No,” she said, almost to herself.

  “What?” her mother asked.

  “Something’s not right.”

  Her mother gave her a puzzled look. Sandy looked at Mrs. Longwell.

  “My number one choice needs to have Baby Smith.”

  “What are you talking about?” her mother asked.

  Sandy sat up straighter in bed. An unexplainable confidence entered her.

  “The first couple I selected is supposed to raise the younger baby. If we’re going to take a baby home, it should be Baby Jones.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” her mother replied. “He’s the one who looks like Brad. It would be hard to look at the baby every day and be reminded of what his father did to you.”

  “Don’t ask me to explain it, Mama,” Sandy said. “But something inside me knows it would be wrong for us to keep the blond-haired baby.”

  Sandy’s mother turned to Linda.

  “Does this make any sense to you?”

  “It doesn’t make sense to me for you and Bob to take either one of these babies home to Rutland. You already have a beautiful family, and there’s no reason why you should add the responsibility of an infant at this point in your lives when there are childless couples who desperately want just one baby. More important, I think Sandy should do what she believes is best for these children. She’s the one who thought she was going to have twins. And whether it’s fate or God, I believe she’s been given the right to make this choice.”

  Sandy looked at her mother.

  “Do we need to talk about taking home Baby Jones?”

  “No,” her mother sighed.

  “Then I’m ready to sign the papers,” Sandy said to Mrs. Longwell. “For both babies.”

  Sandy wanted to have her mother’s approval. But that might not be possible, at least not now. She reached for the envelope, opened it, and turned to the signature page.

  “Not so fast,” Mrs. Longwell said. “Read each sheet and put your initials at the bottom. You’ll sign two sets. One for us, the other for you to keep.”

  While Sandy was reading the first page, her mother left the room. Linda followed her.

  “Are you pushing your mother too hard?” Mrs. Longwell asked when the door closed.

  Sandy glanced up. “I can’t do anything else. I hope she’ll be okay when we’re at home and her life gets back to normal.”

  “Don’t be surprised if she goes through a period of grief. You will feel the loss too. It’s better if you can support each other in that process.”

  All Sandy wanted to do was sign the documents. Once the decision had finally been made, she didn’t want any more confusion or distractions to come against her. She skimmed as fast as she dared and signed. Mrs. Baker notarized her signature. Sandy was relieved that it was done.

  “Do you want us to wait with you until your mother comes back?” Mrs. Longwell asked.

  “No.”

  “You’re aware of your right to change your mind within the next ten days,” Mrs. Longwell said. “All that is outlined in the papers I’m leaving with you.”

  “I’d only do that if Brad changes his mind.”

  The door to the room opened. It was a nurse coming to check her vital signs.

  “Then we’ll be on our way,” Mrs. Longwell said. “Call if you have any questions.”

  After the two women left and the nurse finished her duties, Sandy rested her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. She felt empty. Not bad. Just drained. Forty-five minutes later her mother and Linda returned. Without saying a word, her mother came over to the bed and kissed Sandy on the forehead.

  “After I calmed down, Linda and I had a good talk,” her mother said.

  Sandy looked at Linda, who nodded her head.

  “I’m sure I’ll have second thoughts later,” Sandy’s mother said, “but for now I see why placing the babies for adoption in good homes is probably the best thing to do.”

  “Mrs. Longwell said both of us would grieve,” Sandy replied. “And I want us to help each other, not be mad.”

  “You sound more like a parent than I do.”

  “I learned most of what I know from you.”

  “Maybe,” her mother replied. “But you’ve matured by years instead of months since you came to Atlanta.”

  The three women spent the rest of the afternoon peacefully. Sandy wanted to have another peek at the twins but wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for her mother to join her. When supper arrived, it was an unappetizing piece of brown meat and tasteless mashed potatoes. “Linda and I need food too,” her mother said. “I’ll get something from the salad place we saw when we went out earlier.”

  “I’ll go,” Linda said. “You’re not familiar with the city.”

  “It’s only three blocks from the hospital,” Sandy’s mother said. “I can handle that. And I know exactly what Sandy would like to eat.”

  “Okay,” Linda said.

  After Sandy’s mother left, Linda sat in the chair beside the bed and started reading a book. Sandy watched her for a moment. Linda glanced up and saw her.

  “Do you want to see the babies?” Linda asked.

  “Yes, but not while Mama is here.”

  “We have at least twenty minutes before she comes back.”

  This time Sandy leaned on Linda’s arm and walked around the corner to the nursery. The babies had been moved again, and Baby Jones was in the second row. He was lying on his other side.

  “He looks just as perfect from this angle,” Linda said.

  Sandy nodded as she studied his face. While she watched, he wiggled slightly and one of his hands came into view. Sandy gasped at the sight of the tiny fingers. A few moments later, a nursery worker picked him and took him out of the room.

  “Probably going to supper,” Linda said.

  Sandy tried to shake off the anxiety she felt as the baby disappeared. She continued down the hallway. Baby Smith was now in the front row, which meant Sandy was less than three feet from him. He, too, was asleep, but she had a chance to observe every twitch of his face. Sandy watched the blanket rise and fall with each breath.

  “He’s a miracle,” Sandy said.

  Linda didn’t respond but stayed by her side. Sandy was transfixed.

  “Better head back to the room,” Linda said.

  “But we just got here.”

  “No, the twenty minutes is almost up, and I think you should be in bed when your mother returns with the food.”

  Sandy put her finge
rs to her lips, then touched them to the glass in a good-bye kiss. After one last lingering look, she turned away.

  When she did, she saw an older woman who looked vaguely familiar at the end of the hall. The woman’s hair was pulled back in a bun, and she was wearing a blue-print dress. She glanced sideways at Sandy, who gasped and grabbed Linda’s arm. The woman stepped around the corner out of sight.

  “What is it?” Linda asked. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Sandy stared down the hallway.

  “Quick! Try to catch that old woman who was at the end of the hallway. Tell her I want to talk to her.”

  Linda gave Sandy a strange look.

  “What old woman? I didn’t see anybody.”

  “Just go. She can’t be far away. She’s wearing a blue-print dress and has her hair in a bun. I’ll wait here.”

  Sandy leaned against the nursery glass as Linda walked rapidly down the hallway and disappeared. In less than a minute, her aunt returned.

  “Where is she?” Sandy asked.

  “I couldn’t find an old woman,” Linda said. “Maybe she got on the elevator. Why did you want to talk to her?”

  Sandy glanced over her shoulder at the nursery. Baby Smith was still in his bassinet. She turned to Linda.

  “Do you really believe I’m doing the right thing letting the babies be adopted?”

  “I’ve always thought that.”

  “And it’s okay to place them with different families?”

  “If that’s what you want to do. I can see how that would make two families happy. Why are you asking me this now?”

  “Okay.” Sandy took a deep breath and exhaled. “There’s nothing else I can do.”

  “What in the world are you talking about?”

  Sandy reached out and took hold of Linda’s arm.

  “I’m ready to go back to my room.”

  “Do you need to ask the doctor for some medicine for anxiety?”

  “No. I’m fine now.”

  Sandy’s mother returned ten minutes later.

  “I brought you a Cobb salad,” she said.

  The fresh salad tasted good. To Sandy’s relief, Linda didn’t bring up the incident with the old woman.