by Tory Jane
I feel sick. I have to tell my mother. “Mama, I need to tell you something.”
“Darling, you can tell me anything. I told you. No judgment.”
I manage to whisper, my throat tight, “Mama, I had a baby with Jack.” For the third time in a week, I tell my story. It does not get any easier.
By the end, my mother is kneeling before me, holding me in her arms.
“My sweet girl. I am genuinely sorry for your loss. Dammit. I’m your mother. I should have known. I should have sensed it. I knew you were going through something horrible, something more than Jack leaving. You begged me for his contact information. You were so pale and fragile. Tinier than ever, hiding under your long dresses and tunics. I failed you.”
“No, Mama. I'm sorry I failed everybody. I should have told you. I was hell bent on the notion that Jack should know first. I was stubborn, and I isolated myself.”
“Sweetheart, you did not fail. It was not your fault. Nature corrects itself.” She hugs and kisses me. “Now I understand. Why you’re so afraid to love. You have suffered one of the greatest losses a woman can suffer.
“It’s my turn to share my story.” She sits back in her chair but holds on to my hand. “You had an older brother. It was a normal pregnancy. I was healthy. I quit smoking and drinking (unlike when I was pregnant with you.). There was no indication of any problem. At twenty-five weeks, he stopped moving. Like you, I knew. When the doctor confirmed, it wasn't a surprise. A mother knows.
“Belle, listen to me. I couldn’t look at him or hold him. I understand. How could I hold my dead baby?
“My doctor helped me after. She explained that nature corrects itself. A miscarriage means your baby wasn’t healthy enough for this world. He would not have survived. It was nothing I did, or you did. It could have been a genetic abnormality, any number of things. Your doctor should have explained that to you.
“I was lucky. I wasn’t alone. Your father and your grandmother handled everything for me. He rests in an urn in my bedroom. I named him Thomas.
“I was terrified to try for another baby. The idea of losing another child, or not being able to get pregnant. I remember the pain and the grief to this day. Your father desperately wanted another baby. He begged me. I let my fear get in the way. Belle, we separated for several months because of it. I isolated myself. I hid from the world. This is why I should have known. I recognized the same signs in you, and I ignored them.
“Fortunately for all of us, you were an ‘oops’ baby. Your father and I got together to talk and ended up drinking too much and then, well…nature took its course.”
I can’t help it. This makes me laugh. “You hussy. You and Daddy got drunk and ended up with me?”
“It's true. In the beginning, I was a bit like Julia. In denial that I was pregnant. I smoked, I drank a glass of wine at night, and I pretended it wasn't happening. As soon as I felt you move, every maternal instinct kicked in. I loved you so much. I didn't quit smoking, but I cut back.” she chuckles. “Honey, as much as I loved you, deep down I was terrified until I heard you cry out. It was the most thrilling sound I'd ever heard.
“You were a healthy, active baby. Our mischievous pixie. Still, it took a long time for me to let go of the fear. I tried to keep you close to me. I watched over you like a hawk. There was no holding you back. You lived your life with such joy. No fear. You danced through life. What a blessing, you've been.
“When Jack left, and you were in such pain, the fear came raging back. I was terrified we would lose you. I was a mama lion, desperate to keep you safe. Another massive mistake.”
Now I am on my knees before her, hugging her waist, my head resting on her knees. “I'm sorry for your loss, Mama. I've been foolish and selfish. I'm sorry. Thank you for listening and thank you for telling me about Thomas. You do understand. I want to give Jack a baby, but I am terrified. What if I'm broken?”
“Darling, he wants you. A baby would be gravy. You’re just going to have to get drunk and get busy.”
I pop my head up in surprise. I giggle, “Mama, you always give the best advice.” I squeeze her. “I do have a confession. I stopped taking the pill a week ago. I don't even know why. I skipped a day and then another day, and then I simply didn't think about it.”
She caresses my face and runs her fingers through my hair. “You were following your instincts. So much of being a parent is instinctual. There is some science involved. You’ll want to talk with your doctor. For some reason you’re supposed to have sex every other day? I don’t see you and Jack making that sacrifice,” she giggles.
“Belle, all I can tell you is that I believe in you. You are a blessing to this world. You have so much love to give. Whether it's your own baby or Charlie, you are ready for this. Please learn from your mother. Fear is a wasted emotion.”
“As long as Jack doesn’t have any more babies without me.”
My mother lowers her voice to a conspiratorial level. “What is the story there? I’ve been dying to know.”
“You don’t know? I was sure that Allison told you.”
“She doesn't know everything. Jack kept it private. They got a call from him a year and a half ago, and the rest is history. He told them very little. Frasier knows more because he handled the legal affairs and Jack has sole custody.”
I should respect Jack's privacy, but I can't help telling my mother about the bitch who abandoned her baby. “Well….” We gossip in whispers, although we are entirely alone.
When I finish the story, my mother exclaims, “That’s one cold bitch.”
“I know. Can you believe it? She never held him, never cuddled that beautiful child. Jack sent pictures, but someone always returned them. Same with the court documents. She never tried to fight for Charlie. She disappeared.”
“You know what that tells me? She may have been an incubator, but you were meant to be his mama. Darling, you may not know much about babies, but they don’t bond with strangers that quickly. He was in your arms within minutes of meeting you. It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. That kiss he gave you? I thought my heart was going to burst. Oh! I have a video. I’ll make sure to show you and send it to you.”
“He’s a slobbery little kisser.”
She chuckles, “Yes, they all are. Even you were. But you still loved it, didn’t you?”
“God, yes. I fell in love with that kid.”
“It was mutual. The way Jack watched you two? Lord, I thought the man was going to beg you to marry him right then and there.”
“I think he was planning to propose today. I made him promise not to.”
“Why?”
“Everything is happening so fast. I wanted today to be about Charlie. Do you know about the property on Johns Island? He's only been back for three weeks. We need to slow down. Be responsible.”
“Who are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Where is my mischievous pixie who lives life with joy and no fear? What are you waiting for? Go for it. Start living your life again, Belle.”
“I would think you’d want me to take things slowly?”
“Why? To hell with that. The two of you have lost enough time as it is.” She cocks an eyebrow at me, “And you’re not getting any younger. Did he tell you he talked with your father?”
“Yes. His mother told me you two were planning the wedding and that I should call her ‘Mom.’ Then Mr. Cliff said the same thing last night. I almost fainted. If you two try to plan some huge wedding and put me in a puffball white dress, I swear I'll run.”
“Darling, I know you better than that. I promise. No puffball white dress or tiara. And I’ll limit the guest list to under five hundred.”
“Mother.”
“I’m kidding! Trust us. Well, don’t trust Allison, but trust me. I’ll keep her in line.”
“This is really happening, isn’t it? I may end up with a happily ever after.”
“Annabelle, that’s entirely up to you. You make your ow
n choices. You’ll know when you’re ready.”
I stand, kiss, and hug her. “I love you, Mama. Thank you for everything. Especially for getting drunk and seducing Daddy.”
“Hey, how do you know I was the one who seduced him?”
“Like mother, like daughter.”
My mother rises and slings her arm around my shoulder. “That’s my girl.”
When we go inside, we discover it is 9:00 p.m. Daddy is sound asleep on the couch. We’ve missed Christmas dinner.
My mother shrugs it off. “This was one of the happiest Christmases I’ve ever had. We’ll eat leftovers tomorrow. I always love turkey sandwiches the next day better, anyway.”
“You went to so much trouble to make dinner.”
“Please. Darling, I had it catered. You think I’d cook a feast for three of us. Those days are over. Your Mama’s no dummy.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m old and wise. Pay attention. Life is short, my love.”
***
I wander home, thinking about my conversations with my mother. She’s right, this has been the best Christmas I can remember. As I round the corner, I hope it’s about to get better. The man who left me unfulfilled today is waiting on my doorstep. God, I want to continue what he started this afternoon.
Why does he not look as happy as I feel?
“Hey, beautiful man,” I sing out to him.
“Hey, Annabelle.” He rises to greet me, subdued. His eyes shuttered.
My happiness fades.
“What's wrong?” I face him with my hands on my hips. “I just had the best Christmas I can remember, and I feel like you're about to ruin it. What's up, Jack?”
He shakes his head.
“Jack?” I feel a panic attack coming on. No. I am ignoring this. I unlock the door and walk into my sanctuary. About to close and lock the door, he reaches his hand out.
“May I come in?”
“I don’t know. You’re freaking me out. I’m not sure I want to hear what you have to say. Please. Can’t I have a memory of a perfect day?”
“Annabelle, let me in.”
“What did I do wrong?”
He looks confused. “Wrong? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“What’s going on, then? You look like your dog just died. Why aren’t you happy? Wasn’t today a great day?”
I pour a glass of wine and rummage around in my pocketbook for my smokes. I stand across from Jack, the counter between us. I'm angry and defiant. I lean against the back counter to put more distance between us, cock my hip, and stare at him with narrowed eyes. My ire rises as I stare at him and smoke. What the fuck is he doing?
“Jack, please start talking before I start screaming.”
“Sofia is here.”
I shut up. That crazy bitch has officially ruined the happiest Christmas ever. “I’m sorry, what did you say? Sofia is here. In Charleston? Where?”
“She showed up at our house. She was waiting for us. Sitting on the piazza as if she was an old family friend. My parents had no idea who she was. She scared my mother to death.”
“I’m confused. I’m sorry. This isn’t processing. Sofia, who never held Charlie and abandoned him at three weeks’ old just popped in for a Christmas visit? All the way from Italy? What did she say? What does she want?”
“She wants him. She wants to see him. Wants to be a part of his life. Belle, what if she tries to take him from us? We’re starting over. Today was one of the happiest Christmas’ for me, too. Dammit! I thought we were in the clear. I finally had stopped looking over my shoulder.”
“The court terminated her parental rights.”
“Yes. Sofia's claiming she never received the documents.”
“Bullshit.” I’m furious. How could the woman who abandoned her newborn baby saunter back in after a year and a half and lay claim to him?
“Jack? Did she see him?”
“Hell, no. He was asleep in my arms. I rushed him inside the house for Miss Margaret to put him to bed. I wouldn't allow her in the house. We agreed to meet tomorrow afternoon at dad's firm and discuss what she wants. Dad has the file, every document, every letter I wrote that she returned unopened. He assures me that she doesn't have a case. I still have a bad feeling about this. I’m scared.”
I rush to him and throw myself around him. He grabs me up and buries his head in my neck.
“I finally have everything I wanted. My dreams are coming true, and she shows up? I don't understand.”
“I’m here. I’ll support you every step of the way. You’re surrounded by an army that will do what they can to protect Charlie.”
“Thank you, Belle. I’m sorry I can’t stay. I need to get back and strategize with Dad.
“I ran over here as quickly as I could to make sure you heard it from me first. No secrets. You’re part of this, and I promised you that we would share all decisions.”
I kiss him gently and release him from my clutches. “Thank you. I can't tell you how much that means to me. I love you. I love Charlie. Let me know if you need me to do some ass-whoopin’.”
He eyes my tiny fists with skepticism.
“Hey, I’m tougher than I look. I could bitch slap her back to Italy.”
Finally, a smile. “There’s no doubt about that. Why do you think I want you on my side? By my side?”
With a kiss on the tip of my nose, he disappears into the night.
Holy shit. This can't be happening. Not now. Not ever. As Jack said, we're finally getting everything we dreamed. I want to throw an Annabelle temper tantrum of epic proportions.
Instead, I text my mother. She’s been the voice of wisdom today.
Charlie’s mother is here. Sofia.
Despite the late hour, my mother responds immediately.
Darling, I'm sorry. I know it must be a shock.
I've been on the phone with Allison for the last hour. She is furious. That woman was waiting on the piazza when they got home. Sitting in one of the wicker chairs, smoking. Cold as she could be. Allison refused to let her in the house, and Jack rushed Charlie to Miss Margaret.
The bitch stood on the porch and screamed at Allison in Italian. What a mess. Do you want to come back over?
Jack came by briefly. He's scared, of course. I'll stay here just in case he comes back and needs to talk.
I have to be at the shop early tomorrow. Please text me if you hear anything. This is madness.
Okay, sweetheart. I’m here if you need me. I love you.
I love you, too, Mama. Thank you. Please keep me posted.
Post-Christmas Blues
I am in the boutique at 8:00 a.m. the morning after Christmas, with the largest latte I could buy affixed to my hand. The shop looks as depressed and empty as I feel. A shipment should be arriving at any moment. It will fill the boutique with beautiful dresses for a festive New Years’ Eve and warm, chic basics for a chilly January. I hope that it will also fill my cash register.
It will do little to quell my anxiety.
Standing in the alley behind the store, waiting for the truck, I am physically and mentally shattered. I take sip after sip of my coffee, wishing it were a magic elixir. I rummage for my phone and leave a message for my therapist. Can she fit me in for an emergency session? Can I block out eight hours of her time? I doubt she’ll accommodate the second request. Then I leave messages for Julia and Wallace: “Baby Mama is in Charleston.” That would be the perfect headline for today’s Post & Courier.
I've been smoking too much, and I can't manage to give a shit. I'm standing in a dirty alley waiting for a delivery truck. I might as well add my cigarette butts to those that litter the alley.
I smoke. I gulp coffee. I try to strategize.
I'm sure Chez Cliff is in turmoil this morning. I should be there. I'm desperate to find out what is going on.
I rest my coffee on a window ledge and pull out my phone again.
Checking in. I love you. How are you feeling today? What can I do,
Jack?
Silly question. I'm sure Jack doesn't have a clue what he wants. Does she have the right to see Charlie? What is the best thing for Charlie? I’m surprised when I receive a response from him.
I want you beside me while I deal with this mess. Charlie woke up this morning clutching Pete and asking for you. I wish you were here, too.
What can I do? What do you need? I’m right there beside you.
I believe Jack loves me. He also loves Charlie. Would he sacrifice his happiness to give his child his mother? Just yesterday, we envisioned a life together with me as a mother to Charlie and trying for another child.
The truck rolls up. Once everything is unloaded, I store my phone and my pocketbook under the sales counter, grab my coffee, and get to work. Soon I am lost in the storeroom, unpacking boxes and checking invoices.
I hear Cecelia arrive at 9:00 and call out to her. “Hey! I’m unloading boxes. Will you please come back, gather things up, and hang and steam them?”
Nearly thirty minutes later, she finally walks back to the storeroom and piles dresses on the rolling cart. What took her so long? I can tell something is off with her. She does not make eye contact.
“Hey, how are you? Did you have a Merry Christmas? Thanks for coming in this morning.”
She nods. “Yeah, it was great. And no problem, I’ll get started on these right away.”
As I unpack, she makes multiple trips to collect the new inventory. After two hours, I head to the front of the store. We work together to design a layout for the window displays. My contribution to the world. Displaying sparkly cocktail gowns.
Cecelia looks as sullen as I feel. Hungover?
“Hey, are you okay? What’s going on?”
“It's nothing.” Not convincing. “Look, Mark proposed.” She holds out her left hand to display a diamond solitaire that looks more like a cocktail ring than an engagement ring. How does a twenty-two-year-old kid have the money to buy a ring like that? It must be a family ring.
