CHAPTER 8
Abra and Beth’s time together in Charleston had been focused solely on Abra’s disclosure of her hidden past. Their time together at Thanksgiving was focused on Beth’s newly adopted son Zack. At the beginning of November, Beth e-mailed Abra telling her that she and Tom were adopting a 20 month old biracial child with Down’s Syndrome. Beth was taking a six-week leave from work so she could bond with him and learn how to meet his needs. Zack had been born to a white 45 year old woman who had been raped by an unknown black assailant. The woman chose not to have an amniocentesis because she did not want to abort the fetus no matter what its condition. She was planning to give the baby up for adoption if it was normal or not. Zack had been born with a heart defect and needed immediate heart surgery. He was placed in a foster home and at 3 weeks was operated on to repair his heart defect. Since then, he was in a caring foster home and had fully recovered from the surgery and was in good health.
When the adoption agency asked Beth and Tom if they wanted a biracial child with Down’s Syndrome, they didn’t hesitate to say yes. They felt that his special needs would have no impact on their ability to love him. Their only concern was for Clay and his adjusting to another child in the house where he had ruled as king for the past five years.
In the three weeks prior to Abra’s visit, Beth sent nightly emails describing the constant challenges of parenting a baby. There were the diapers, baby food, crying in the middle of the night, and illnesses. She had forgotten how hard it was to physically mother a child. But these challenges helped cement the bond of love among the four Newland family members. Beth described how during the first few days Clay had some difficulty adjusting to the stranger who was suddenly his brother, but now he was telling everyone “We’re adopting Zack because he doesn’t have a mother and father and he needs a family to love him and we have lots of love to share with him.” Obviously, he was mimicking what Beth and Tom had told him. Hopefully, with time he would come to believe it.
Abra made her annual visit to the Newland’s for Thanksgiving. She left early Thursday morning to get to Richmond before ten. She had scoured the aisles of Babys R Us and bought Zack a cute denim outfit, Thomas Train toys, and baby books. For Clay she patrolled the aisles of Toys R Us to find the latest crazes for 5 year old boys. She found transformers and the eternally popular Legos updated with robots and monsters.
Up until Beth’s father Phil’s death three years earlier, Thanksgiving had always been at Beth’s parents’ house. Now it was at Beth’s home with Linda, Beth’s mother, acting as head chef. There was a sadness about the day because of Phil’s absence, but it was growing less painful every year. Linda orchestrated the meal, shopped for the food, set the table with Beth’s good dishes, and did most of the cooking of a huge stuffed deeply browned turkey, pumpkin pie, and sweet potato casserole. Everything that means Thanksgiving.
This was the first year that Jeff brought his significant other, Roy, to the Thanksgiving celebration. Jeff was an interior designer to the rich and famous of New York and he had become quite wealthy. Roy, who was 15 years older than Jeff was a fabulously rich Wall Street broker. They had recently moved into an apartment in a mid-town Manhattan glass tower. With Roy’s limitless funds, Jeff decorated it to his impeccable taste. An article and photos of the apartment were going to be featured in the January issue of Architectural Digest. He promised to send them all copies when the issue hit the newsstands.we
Roy and Jeff were planning on getting married at Roy’s summer home in Provincetown the following summer. Although Phil had accepted Jeff’s homosexuality at the end of his life, Linda wasn’t sure how he would have reacted to his son marrying a man. The culminating kiss might have been too much for him. Linda, Beth, and Tom were happy for Jeff. He had found love, companionship, and a profession that he loved.
Abra pulled up at the Newland’s house and parked behind a Porshe, which she was sure was Jeff’s or Roy’s. Abra entered Beth’s house and was immediately set upon by Clay who hugged her tightly around the waist. “What did you bring me Aunt Abra? You always bring me the best toys!”
“Hey, how about the toys we brought you?” said Jeff. “Don’t you like Uncle Jeff’s presents?
“I like everyone’s presents. I like Thanksgiving because it’s like a first Christmas and I like Christmas because it’s the real Christmas.”
As she gazed at the floor littered with gift wrap and toys – trucks, trains, star war figures, Abra asked, “Did you bring all these Jeff?”
“Of course, I loved these macho toys when I was young. What do you think – I played with dolls?”
Clay, ever vigilant to everyone’s conversation, said, “I like dolls. Boy dolls like Batman and Superman. I don’t like Barbies and girl kinds of dolls. Yuk.”
Jeff said, “Well, I think we’ve resolved the doll issue.”
“Clay, let me hug everyone and then you can help me get the presents out of my car. They’re so heavy for your tired old Aunt Abra.”
“You’re not old. My grandma is old. You’re not old.”
“Thanks” said Linda to Clay as she walked into the living room from the kitchen. “I may be old but I’m the best tickler in the world so you better get ready for a tickle attack.” She chased Chase and threw him on the couch for a round of belly tickling which made him squeal with delight.
“Come on. Let’s get your presents.” Abra and Clay brought in presents for him and Zack.
As they came back in, Beth was coming down the stairs holding Zack. Abra looked at him with wonder. Here was this honey skinned Asian looking rotund baby with a huge smile. He looked from Abra, to Linda, to Jeff, to Roy, to Tom, to Clay, and just laughed as if he knew a joke that no one else knew. The smile on Beth’s glowing face was almost as wide as Zack’s.
Abra walked to Beth and kissed her as she enclosed her and Zack in her arms. Then she reached her arms out and Zack eagerly put his arms out to her. Abra held him tight. She bored her eyes into his face with its chubby cheeks, slitted eyes, and white pearls of teeth rooted between his lips. What a beautiful little boy. She felt something she had never felt before, a tugging at her heart as she pressed Zack to her body. Her whole body tingled as she pressed her cheek against his. She didn’t want to think about what this meant, she only wanted to enjoy the feeling.
The rest of the day was spent playing with toys, reading books, watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade, eating and more eating. Abra spent most of the time playing with Clay and staring at Zack. As a psychologist, she measured what he couldn’t do yet – walk or say words. Then she measured what he could do – sit up, stand holding on, imitate clapping his hands, point at people and objects for labeling by adults, and respond to people positively. He smiled and laughed whenever people paid attention to him. Despite the medical problems and foster home, he was doing remarkably well. He had a bright future with the Newland family.
At 10:00 Linda left taking Jeff and Roy who would sleep in her guest room since space was tight at Beth’s with the guest room converted to a bedroom for Zack. Abra would sleep on the futon in the office. They said good-bye to Jeff and Roy who were going to Williamsburg to visit friends the next day. Jeff told Abra to mark August11th on her calendar for his wedding in Provincetown. He definitely wanted his sorta-sister to be there for the biggest day of his life. Abra said that she wouldn’t miss it for the world, and she didn’t.
Abra and Beth washed and dried pots and platters that were too big for the dishwasher and did their annual review of the dinner. “As usual, the food was great. The sweet potato casserole was the best ever, but maybe that’s because I only eat it once a year. Don’t tell Linda, but the stuffing was dry. Everyone’s happy. I see your mom is healing. She’s not radiating the pain of the last few years. And it is heartwarming to see Jeff and Roy so happy with each other. And most of all, everyone is adjusting to Zack and Zack is certainly thriving.”
“Abra, I can’t tell you how marvelous the last three weeks have bee
n. Not having to go through the pain of an actual birth is actually good. I’m tired but I don’t have the complications of recovering from childbirth. In three weeks we’ve bonded with that special human being. I’ve been so pleased with Clay’s reaction. I think he’s really learning to love Zack. At first, I thought he would be jealous of the attention we shower on him, but I haven’t seen any green eyed envy. He’s turning into such a giving, loving human being at 5. He tries to help me with the diapers and bathing Zack. When I leave them alone, Clay talks to him. He says, ‘Now you’re in the Newland house. We’re going to love you and I’m going to be your big brother and protect you.’ Can you believe it? He’s five.
With the kitchen cleaned up, they went into the family room and sat on a cushiony, deep sofa and looked at the embers in the fireplace. “Abra, how are you doing?”
“As usual, I’m totally immersed in work and rarely think about Rachel or my family. I shouldn’t call them my family. You have a family. The Ginzbergs were just a collection of people I lived with for 18 years.”
“Abra, how do you feel about me adopting a retarded child?”
“Beth, I don’t view Zack the way I viewed Rachel and Noah. You and Tom want Zack. You know what you’re getting into. You’re not putting any responsibility on Clay except to love him. I was expected to take responsibility for them, but not love them.”
“Abra, have you thought of adopting? I know that your friend Anne has had a great experience with the Chinese baby she adopted.”
“Beth dear, I’m just not made for having a kid, naturally or by adoption. I love kids, but I couldn’t love one as my own. I love Clay, and someday I’ll love Zack. If I adopted, which I won’t, I could even adopt a kid with a disability. It’s not what the kid would be like. It’s what’s inside me to give and there’s no mother love to give.”
She articulated these words, but she wondered about the unfamiliar feelings she had whenever she held Zack. She had never responded physically to a child before. Maybe there was a kernel of motherly love hidden inside her, but she had no plans to ever let it grow. She was happy with her life. She wanted to be alone. She didn’t need a husband or children. She needed her independence.
Suddenly the shrill crying of a baby shot out of the monitor. By the time, they got to Zack’s room, Tom was there holding Zack and comforting him. He said, “I think he had a poop. I’ll change him.” Beth and Abra looked at Tom. He was cuddling Zack with his face inches from Zack’s saying, “Zack. I think I love you. I think I’ll love you when we’re both old men. Then you’ll have to change my diaper. So when I’m 90 I’ll remind you that I changed your stinky diaper in the middle of the night and you’ll have to do the same for me.”
Zack stopped crying and reached for Tom’s face. He pulled his nose. Tom said, “Hey man, let me breathe. On the other hand, maybe I shouldn’t breathe that stinky poop.”
Beth and Abra looked at each other, their eyes welling up with tears. Abra said, “Tom, you’re still the best catch in the world. The best husband and the best daddy. Can we clone you?”
The next day Abra and Linda took Clay to the Children’s Museum. They saw the science exhibits and watched a puppet show. Clay loved playing at the water table. They coaxed him away with the promise that he could eat whatever he wanted for lunch. They let him get a hot dog, chips, coke, cookies, and ice cream with the conspiratorial warning, “Don’t tell your mom what we let you eat. She’ll never let us take you out again. Tell her we got you carrots, oatmeal, and milk.”
While Beth made the traditional Friday supper with turkey salad leftovers, Abra took Zack for a walk in his stroller and Clay accompanied them to make sure that they didn’t get lost. When they got back, Abra took Zack out of the stroller and sat on the backyard swing gently moving back and forth as she sang Old Macdonald along with Clay who was on the next swing. Zack leaned his body into hers with the ebb and flow of the swing. She felt like she was part of the Newland family – the old maid aunt.
On Saturday, Beth and Abra went out for lunch while Tom and Linda baby sat with the kids. Beth said, “I have a preschool disability teacher coming on Monday and also a physical therapist. We’ll start with all the preschool services that hopefully will help Zack master the skills at this critical time. I’m not going back to work until after January 1st. Zack will be entering a preschool handicapped class, but I have to find day care. I’m not sure if I’ll continue working full time. Maybe I can arrange to work while he’s in school. We need the money so I have to do something. My mom has offered to baby sit with Zack, but I don’t want to tie her down. She needs freedom to enjoy her own life and not repeat motherhood again. My loving brother Jeff has generously offered to give us money so I can stay home, but I don’t know if I want to take it. He says that he wants to make sure that Zack gets the best treatment in the world – me. He’s such angel. We’ll see what we’ll do. I might take him up on his offer. You know how much I’ve always loved my work, but now it’s definitely secondary to my family. Would you believe that Tom and I are already discussing adopting another child? I can’t tell you the emotions Zack has kindled in us. We feel like we’re making a difference in the world and it’s so hard to feel that way today. But most importantly, we’re making a difference in Zack’s life and in our own.”
“I can see you and Tom becoming like these families you see on TV where they adopt 10 handicapped kids and make it seem so easy.”
“I don’t think we’ll make 10, but if things go well, we’ll get another one. We’ll see next year. Thanksgiving 2007 may really be crowded and busy.
Remember about six months ago, I told you that Tom and I joined a church and were getting quite involved with the people in the congregation. You know, we hadn’t really been religious, but over the last six months we’ve had a spiritual awakening. We’ve found a welcoming home in this wonderful church. We love the minister and the congregation. It’s like we’ve known these people our whole lives. The older people are like grandparents doting on our kids. The people our age want us to socialize with them. Some of the teenage girls have offered to baby sit. We have this extended family of very good people. I just never conceived that something like that would be possible. And everyone has been so supportive of our adoption and they’ve been so helpful. The week we brought Zack home we got 14 casseroles, 14. I still have some in the freezer. Though I think 13 were tuna noodle which I may never eat again. We had so many visits from people in the congregation we thought we’d have to give out numbers at the door.
And getting Zack brought us closer to God and to each other. We’re having a spiritual birth that I didn’t think we would ever have. Religion was never a big thing in our lives, but suddenly God is central to everything. Both Tom and I are going through this awakening together and this has made our relationship even stronger. I love Tom with a spiritual passion that I never imagined before. I really think we were created for each other. God meant us to be together for eternity. God works in strange ways, even bringing a waiter and coed together in a pizza joint.
And I think God sent us Zack. First he gave us the gift of Clay. Maybe we weren’t meant to have another kid so we could get Zack. We’re going to have him baptized next month. I feel like we’re going to officially present him to God for His blessing and protection.”
“Beth, I’m overwhelmed. I just never imagined you going through a religious experience like this. You were always so secular, so areligious. We talked about God, but as sort of an abstract, omnipotent power that we couldn’t understand. It’s so awesome that you two have found such fulfillment and new meaning in your lives. You’ll need it if you’re going to raise kids in this crazy world of war and terrorism. You never cease to amaze me. You’re always changing. You’re always getting better.”
Abra found it difficult to understand Beth and Tom’s religious passion. She believed in God from a distance. She didn’t think God was interested in her daily affairs. He had bigger things to do. But there
were times when she talked to God, asking Him why He created her family, her vicious mother, wars, famines, child abuse, and all the evil things in the world. She was still waiting for answers. She suspected the answers were wrapped in the goodness of Edith Benjamin, the laughter of baby Zack, the kindness of Beth and Tom, and the big brother protectiveness of Clay.
Abra never felt a need or desire for involvement in organized religion. Growing up in the Ginzberg family she had never gone to synagogue. She had gone to Miss Benjamin’s synagogue a few times when she visited over the years, but found no inspiration. She was glad that Beth and Tom had found comfort in their religious re-birth, but knew she couldn’t believe in an all-controlling God who managed the daily lives of His subjects or destined two people for eternal love.
Beth said, “Before we go back home, tell me about your visit with Miss B? Did she know about Rachel?”
“Yes, she knew all about what happened. She told me so much about the family that I didn’t know. Rachel and Noah were placed in foster care after I left because my parents couldn’t take care of them. My parents also got services which helped them. She convinced me that they were okay without me. That is, until Rachel drowned. Not that I could have prevented that.
We had a wonderful visit together. We even took a buggy ride through Central Park. Can you imagine all the times I visited, I never went on a buggy ride?
Ya know, I’ve been thinking about the differences between Zack and Rachel and Noah. Zach is so happy – I think partly it’s his basic temperament. I think of your house full of smiles and happiness. Then I think of my house. No one smiled. Rachel and Noah were always angry and unhappy and I think that was partly their basic temperament. But I know the environment also made the difference. When we see Zack, we automatically smile and he smiles back. Or he smiles first which makes us smile. There’s this communication between our faces. When I looked at Rachel or Noah, I never smiled so they had nothing positive to respond to. My parents certainly didn’t smile at them or me. I can’t recall them ever initiating smiling. So much of their behavior was a result of this cold, harsh life we lived. I wonder what they would have been like if they had been raised in a house with smiles like yours. But I’ll never know, will I?”
“Abra, did you love Rachel and Noah?”
“I’ve thought about that so much over the years. At first, I didn’t think I did. I thought I was pretending to love them. I do think I loved them, but I was afraid to admit it because it might tie me to them. If I admitted I loved them, then how could I leave them in that house of horrors? I think of the times I held them and sang to them or read to them or watched them sleep and I recall what I felt and it was love. I can remember so many times laying in bed holding Rachel in one arm and Noah in the other and rocking them back and forth as I sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star over and over, and they looked up at me with pure love and total trust. The three of us cuddled together. And I felt a serenity I’ve never felt again. No one else ever rocked them. No one else loved them. Only their big sister who betrayed their trust and left them forever.
When I was in high school I couldn’t reconcile loving them with abandoning them. I still can’t. Maybe I should have gone back to see them once I got out of school and could do something for them. Why didn’t I ever go see Rachel and Noah? I feel guilty about that, especially knowing that I will never see Rachel again and only having that last memory of her striking out to fight off the people who were keeping me from her. I think I couldn’t see them again because of the awful memories they would stir up. I need to bury my past as Abra Ginzberg and I suppose that means shutting them out, or shutting Noah out. I think I feel guiltiest about never seeing them these last 16 years. Leaving them when I went to college was bad enough, but never having any contact with them again was much worse. I just could never bring myself to go back. I felt I had to make a complete break. Cut the ties permanently. I hate myself for that. But it was them or me and me has always won.”
“Did you love your parents?”
“I didn’t love my father, but I also didn’t hate him. I felt neutral about him, if that’s possible. I always felt sorry for him because he was totally controlled by Miriam and she treated him like crap. I despised my mother and I still do. Isn’t that awful? A child hating her mother. I can’t remember calling her mom or ma or mother. I must have when I was a little kid. I didn’t call her anything to her face and when I talked about her I would say she or her, not Miriam or mother. I don’t feel guilty about hating her. She was a terrible person with no love in her heart for anyone. If she could have, she would have left us. But she couldn’t live on her own and she had nowhere to go. It would have been so much better for everyone if she had left us. If she was pushed more, I really think she might have become one of these mothers who kills her kids. I think it was a possibility. I could see her picking up a knife in one of her rages when she was hitting one of the kids and stabbing them. Sorta like a Psycho scene. Scarey, but true. But I don’t think she would have ever tried to kill me. She would only go after Rachel and Noah, maybe because they were just like her. Maybe it would be a way of killing herself. I think she hated herself and didn’t know how to change herself. I wonder if there ever was any hope for her, maybe when she was young, she might have benefited from therapy or special ed. or a different family. Or maybe, that’s the way she was made and nothing could change her. When I knew her, she was too far gone for help. Beth, when I would look at her, I’d say to myself ‘How did I come from this monster? How did this devil create me?’ My mother was the most despicable person I have ever met.”
“Abra, I don’t know how you became who you are with her as your mother. I especially don’t know how you developed your ethics, your empathy, and stable mental health. You are a puzzler. I don’t think we can explain you. Maybe one day you’ll become a mass murderer.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you for a consult at my trial.”
“Abra, do you mind if I share your life story with my church. Obviously, I wouldn’t give your name or any identifying information. We don’t have a psychological explanation for how you got to be you. Maybe there’s a spiritual one.”
“If you and your gang find something, let me know.”
“Do you think you’ll ever see your parents?”
“Not if I can help it. I have nothing to say to them. No, they’re dead to me and I’m dead to them. Hey, we’d better get back and shop for a Christmas tree.”
Dirty Genes Page 8
