by Terri DuLong
That was when I noticed the look of fear on her face and saw the tears in her eyes. “It’s okay,” I said, not believing a word I was saying. I put my arms around her and felt how thin she was. “Welcome to Florida. It’s okay.” I took a deep breath as I took her arm, attempting to reassure her as much as myself. “First things first. Let’s go get your luggage.”
We got her two bags and headed to my car, both of us remaining silent. She slipped into the passenger seat, while I put the luggage in the trunk and got into the driver’s seat. I saw that the digital clock on the dash read 1:05.
“You’re probably hungry,” I said, paying the parking attendant and heading out of the airport. “How about we stop for lunch before heading to Cedar Key?”
“That would be great,” she said and then remained quiet until I pulled into Cracker Barrel on Archer Road.
Since it was Christmas Eve afternoon, the place was fairly quiet, and I asked for a table in the back that might give us a bit of privacy.
Once our order was given, a BLT and cup of soup for her and a salad for me that I knew I wasn’t going to be able to swallow, I said, “So? Are you married?” I knew so little about her that the thought had crossed my mind in the car that perhaps she wasn’t a pregnant, single young woman after all.
But she quickly dashed this idea and shook her head. “No. No, I’m not. I know what you must be thinking.”
She did? I wasn’t even sure what I was thinking. I looked at her, waiting for an explanation.
“Like mother, like daughter.”
“Oh,” I said and then blurted, “Is the father of the child married?”
“No. At least I didn’t follow in my mother’s footsteps by being with a married man.”
I nodded as the waitress placed two glasses of ice water in front of us.
“But Greg is ten years older than me,” she said, causing my head to snap up as I waited for more information. “He’s a professor at BU. Teaches English lit.”
Okay. So he was twenty-nine, not married, and had a good education and career.
“How does he feel about the baby?” I asked.
“He doesn’t know,” Fiona said, like it was the most natural thing in the world not to tell the father of your baby that you were pregnant.
“Oh.” I took a sip of water. “Why not?”
She let out a sigh while pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well . . . we’ve been together a little over a year. I met him a year ago August.” She paused to also sip water.
Okay. So she had already turned eighteen but hadn’t begun her freshman year of college yet, so she couldn’t have met him there. “How did you meet?” I asked.
“My roommate, Katy. Greg is her older brother. He had been teaching out west but took a temporary position at BU last July. She introduced us and we began dating a month later, and by Christmas . . . we’d fallen in love.”
I was failing to see the problem. “So did you not get along? Did he not treat you well?”
The waitress placed our food on the table, and Fiona waited before replying. “Oh, no, we got along really well. He was very good to me, but . . . I also knew he had no desire to get married. He never lied about that. He wants to pursue his doctorate and just isn’t ready to make a lifetime commitment. That was why we were careful and used protection . . . which obviously didn’t work.”
I took another sip of water as Fiona took a bite of her sandwich. “So are you trying to protect him by not telling him about the baby? Does he know where you are?”
She shook her head and wiped her mouth with the napkin. “No, I’m not trying to protect him. I just feel that under the circumstances, he doesn’t need to know. What would be the sense? Then it would be like my father.” She paused and looked at me. “I don’t understand why my mother even bothered to tell him. She never allowed us to visit. We had no communication. We didn’t even know each other. So why did she even feel the need to tell him if she didn’t want us to have contact?”
“Maybe you’re wrong,” I told her. “Maybe it was Andrew who pulled back and relinquished any contact.”
She reached into her handbag and slipped a black-and-white photograph across the table. “Is this my father?” she asked.
I looked down to see an attractive, tall, slim woman with thick dark hair wearing slacks and a cotton blouse standing next to a little girl who appeared to be around six and strongly resembled Fiona. On the other side . . . was Andrew, laughing into the camera, with his arm around the child’s shoulder. I felt an ache in the pit of my stomach. They looked like a typical American family out for a day of fun.
“Yes,” I whispered, unable to take my eyes from the photo. “Yes, that’s Andrew.”
“I thought so. That day when we met him, I always thought he was my father, but my mother said no. She introduced him as a friend of hers. That was all she’d ever tell me about that day. We went to a park and out for lunch. Even years later when I questioned her, she’d only say he was a friend. Never that he was my father. Sometimes I believed her and sometimes I didn’t. But I never saw him again.”
I saw the hurt on Fiona’s face as I tried to regain my composure. I also wondered how Andrew had managed to arrange the only meeting he’d ever had with his daughter, but realized it had to have been during one of his trips to teach a seminar or workshop.
“So do you see?” she said. “Do you see why I felt compelled to at least come here to meet you and my brothers and maybe learn as much as I can about him?”
I nodded. “I do. But I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t at least tell the father of your child that you’re pregnant. Don’t you think he at least has a right to know?”
She shook her head. “No. I refuse to do what my mother did. To tell a man he has a child, knowing full well that he’s unable to accept that child—either because he’s married or . . . because it would interfere with his own life plans. When I found out I was pregnant, I broke up with Greg. It wasn’t easy, but I told him I had a lot going on in my own life with my mother’s death, finding out about my father, dropping out of college. He tried to change my mind, but he finally agreed that we wouldn’t see each other anymore. Katy is my best friend, and she does know the real reason I broke up with him—but she agreed that it’s probably for the best.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but of course, it wasn’t any of my business. I stabbed a piece of tomato in my salad and made an effort to eat it, while Fiona spooned soup into her mouth.
After a few minutes, I said, “So what’s your plan?”
“Plan?” she said, like she’d never heard the word.
“Do you plan to keep the baby? Give it up for adoption? Get a job? Stay living with your roommate?” I felt a twinge of annoyance that she was so young, probably had no direction whatsoever, and yet she was now responsible for another human being.
“Oh,” she said, wiping her mouth with the napkin again. “Yes, I’ll definitely be keeping the baby. There’s no way I could give away my own child. I’m not quite sure yet how I’ll accomplish it, but I’m hoping to return to college in the fall. I’m due for the baby in May. So I plan to look for a good day-care program that will allow me to take my classes. I finished my first year as a nursing student and I plan to return. There’s no way that I could support myself and a child without a good education and a well-paying job. So I feel going back to college isn’t an option. It’s mandatory. I inherited my mother’s town house, and it’s paid for, so that helps. Plus, I have Katy living with me and paying rent. She’s a sophomore at BU, and staying with me in Marblehead is an easy commute for her. So for right now, it works.”
I felt ashamed. This young woman seemed to have it together. At least she had her priorities, and they were sensible ones. I realized that although she looked young, she was quite mature for a nineteen-year-old who was on her own.
I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “Finish your lunch so you can go and meet your brothers.”
The huge smile
that covered her face touched my heart.
44
If my sons noticed the bump in Fiona’s midsection when we walked in the door, they made no mention of it, but I saw the quizzical expression on my mother’s face. I watched as both Jason and John pulled Fiona into a warm embrace, introducing themselves and then leading her to the sofa, where they sat on either side of her.
My mother extended her hand. “I’m Dora, Marin’s mother. Welcome to Cedar Key.”
“Thank you,” Fiona said. “And thank you so much for allowing me to stay in your home. That was very kind of you.”
“Would anybody like coffee or tea?” my mother asked.
Jason and John wanted coffee, and I heard Fiona say, “Would you have any herbal tea?”
“I do,” my mother said, heading to the kitchen.
“I’ll help,” I said, following her.
“So how did it go?” she asked once we had some privacy. “Is that bump in her tummy what I think it is? Or is she just carrying a little extra weight in one spot?”
“She’s pregnant. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw her. She’s pregnant . . . with Andrew’s grandchild. She’s not married, hasn’t even told the father, for reasons I’ll explain later, but . . . she does seem pretty mature for nineteen, so—I don’t know what to say or think.”
My mother nodded as she prepared the coffeemaker. “Well, I can understand your surprise. But she probably figured if she told you beforehand you’d have second thoughts about her coming here.”
“That’s pretty much what she said. God, just when I thought we were finished with crises, now not only does Andrew’s daughter show up, but she shows up pregnant.” I heard my mother laugh and turned around. “What?”
“Oh, Marin. You should know better than that. Life is filled with one crisis after the other. It’s all the good things in between that keep us going. Remember what I always used to tell you—life is great, if you don’t weaken. And you won’t. You’ll get through this.”
“True,” I said, slicing the loaf of banana bread my mother had baked that morning. “And besides, she’s only here short term.”
“Hmm,” was all my mother said.
By the time Bella returned from downtown later in the afternoon, the boys and Fiona were surrounded with photo albums, each of my sons sharing anecdotes about growing up with Andrew, about what he was like, and I could tell by the look on Fiona’s face that she was enthralled, laughing, asking questions, and soaking up every bit of information.
After I introduced Bella, we joined my mother on the patio for a glass of wine and let the kids continue getting to know one another.
“She seems very nice,” Bella said, settling onto one of the lounges.
Since Fiona hadn’t stood up, I realized Bella had no way of knowing her condition. “She’s pregnant,” I said.
She shot me a surprised look, eyebrows arched. “Oh? Really?”
“Yeah, really.” I went on to explain to her and my mother what I knew.
“Sounds like she plans to raise her child alone with no input from the father,” Bella said. “That sure won’t be easy.”
“No, it won’t,” my mother agreed. “It also sounds like she’s a bit resentful toward her mother for denying her the opportunity to know her father. Yet she’s going to be doing the same thing.”
I nodded. “Yeah, but I guess she justifies it by not letting him know at all. Unlike Bianca. I couldn’t believe it when I saw that photo of the three of them together, and she didn’t even tell her daughter that the man was her father.”
“It’s very sad,” my mother said. “I have a feeling Fiona didn’t get much guidance from her mother growing up. I’m glad you invited her to come here, Marin. From the sound of the laughter inside, I think she’s a hit with the boys.”
And she was. When we went back into the house, the first words out of John’s mouth were, “Hey, I’m going to be an uncle.”
Jason laughed. “Yeah, not only do we get a sister; we’re going to have a niece or nephew in May.”
No judging. No harsh words. My boys had not only accepted Fiona’s news but displayed excitement about it. I smiled. Again I thought, Andrew and I must have done something right.
My mother and I were up early Christmas morning to prepare for a house full of people. Rather than a sit-down dinner later in the day, we had opted to have a buffet-style meal, but that still involved a fair amount of work and preparation.
We had just finished our first cup of coffee when Bella appeared in the kitchen.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and stretching.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I told her. “You’ll be able to pitch in and help, but grab a cup of coffee first, and there’s some muffins on the counter to go with it. Then we’ll put you to work.”
Bella laughed as she filled a mug. “Fiona still sleeping?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure she’s exhausted after yesterday.”
“Has she seen an obstetrician yet?” my mother asked as she began peeling potatoes for potato salad.
“Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t think to even ask her. I guess I was more concerned about what she was planning to do long term concerning the baby.”
“Well, from what you said, she has a good plan as far as going back to college in the fall and completing her education, but except for that girlfriend—her roommate—she doesn’t have any support in Boston.”
“No, she doesn’t,” was all I said.
Shortly before nine, Fiona walked into the kitchen carrying Toulouse. She had showered, was dressed, and looked more rested than she had the day before.
“Is this your cat, Dora? He’s just gorgeous.”
“No, Toulouse is mine,” I said. “I brought him back from Paris with me. And, yeah, he’s quite a handsome boy, isn’t he?” I stroked the top of his head. “You like cats?”
“Oh, I do. And dogs, too, but my mom would never let me have a pet. She said with her working full-time it was just too much work.”
I recalled the dogs and cats my boys had grown up with and felt a twinge of sadness for Fiona.
“Did she always work full-time?” my mother asked, now cubing the potatoes into a saucepan.
Fiona nodded and continued to cuddle Toulouse, who was soaking up the extra attention. “Yeah. Until I got older, I went to after-school programs for a couple hours until she was done teaching her classes.”
Again, I thought back to when my boys were young—how they always returned home to find me there, waiting for them with a snack.
“So,” she said, putting Toulouse on the floor and going to the sink to wash her hands. “What can I do to help?”
“How about some coffee or tea and a muffin before we put you to work,” I told her.
“Thanks. Tea would be great,” she said, taking a muffin and joining Bella at the table. “You have very nice sons. I always wanted a sibling, and now I have two brothers.”
I glanced at her breaking off pieces of muffin and popping them into her mouth. “Thank you. I wanted to ask you . . . have you seen a doctor yet? You know, for the baby.”
“Yeah, I did. Once. He confirmed the pregnancy with a blood test. He also gave me a prescription for vitamins. Oh,” she said, jumping up and heading into the other room. “Be right back.”
She returned a few moments later with a large bottle. “Can’t forget to take these. May I have a glass of water?”
It made me feel good that she seemed concerned for the baby’s welfare. “Do you like juice? We have orange, fresh squeezed.”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
“I hope you won’t feel overwhelmed later today,” my mother said. “We’re going to have a pretty full house. You’ve already met Jason and John, but my niece Sydney and her friend Noah will be coming for dinner, and also Marin’s friend Worth.”
Fiona took a sip of the juice I handed to her and waved a hand in the air. “Oh, no. Not at all. I love being wit
h people. Especially at a holiday gathering. It was always so quiet at my house. You know, just my mother and me.”
I felt a sliver of guilt when I recalled that I’d seriously considered not having her come until after the holidays.
“We’re glad you can be with us this year,” I said. And I meant it.
By two o’clock all of the food had been prepared and was waiting in covered dishes and bowls on the counter and a long table the boys set up in the kitchen. Worth arrived first, bringing squash casserole and a yummy-looking apple pie, followed by Sydney and Noah carrying the turkey they had cooked along with more bowls and platters.
Jason and John began pouring wine and soda into glasses as I made the introductions. I had managed to send off a quick call to both Worth and Sydney the evening before, alerting them to Fiona’s pregnancy so they’d have fair warning.
I noticed that Fiona was wearing a long dark green skirt with a blousy top that managed to camouflage her tummy more than the jeans and top of the day before had.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Sydney said, giving Fiona a hug. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here.”
“Yes,” Noah said, extending his hand. “It’s good that you could join us for Christmas.”
Worth also extended his hand before saying, “Welcome to Cedar Key.”
A few minutes later, Worth placed a wineglass in my hand and steered me outside to the patio while everybody was talking and visiting.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, placing a kiss on my lips. “So how’s it going?”
I shrugged before taking a sip. “Okay, I think. She seems very nice. I was just so surprised about her being pregnant.”
“I can imagine, but you said she seems to have her head on straight as far as what she plans to do.”
“Right. She does. But God, it’s sure not going to be easy for her. Pretty much on her own.”
Worth nodded. “No, it won’t. Did she say how long she’s staying?”
