The Gift

Chapter Ten

They got up early the next day and went to buy the tree, and Tommy bought a little, smaller tree too, a tiny one, that he put in the truck with the big one. He got the decorations out when they got home, and they spent most of the afternoon putting them on the tree. Some of them brought tears to his eyes when he looked at them, mostly the ones that his mother had made with Annie.

“Do you think we should leave them put away?” Maribeth said thoughtfully, and they debated. Seeing them might really upset his mom, but knowing they weren't there would make everyone sad too. There was no easy solution. In the end, they decided to put them up anyway, because leaving them put away would be like denying Annie. She had been there with them, they all shared memories of her. It was better to acknowledge them than to try to pretend they had never existed. And by three o'clock they both agreed that the tree looked good, and it was finished.

She had made him tuna sandwiches for lunch, and as they put the rest of the decorations away, Tommy kept a small box out, and he looked up at Maribeth strangely.

“Is something wrong?”

He shook his head. She could see he was thinking about something. “No. I've got to go somewhere. Want to come, or are you too tired?”

I'm okay. What is it?”

“You'll see.” He got out their coats, and it was starting to snow as they went out to his truck, and he took the small box of decorations. The tiny tree was still in the back of the truck, and he put the box in beside it. She wasn't sure what he was doing at first, but as soon as they got there, she knew what he had come to do. They were at the cemetery, and he had wanted to bring a little tree to Annie.

He took the tree out of the back of the truck, and she carried the box of decorations. They were the smallest ones, the ones Annie had loved, with little teddy bears, and toy soldiers blowing horns, and tiny angels. There was a string of beads, and a length of silver tinsel. And solemnly, he stood the tree on the ground next to her, in a little wooden stand, and one by one they took turns putting on the decorations. It was a heart-wrenching ritual and it only took a few minutes to complete it, and they stood looking at it, as he remembered how much she had loved Christmas. Annie had loved everything about it. He had told Maribeth about it before, but this time he couldn't say anything. He just stood there, with tears rolling down his cheeks, remembering how much he had loved her, and how much it hurt when he lost her.

He looked up at Maribeth then, from across the tree, her huge belly swathed in her coat, her eyes so gentle, her bright hair peeking out of the wool scarf she wore. He had never loved her more than at this moment.

“Maribeth,” he said softly, knowing that Annie would approve of what he was doing. It was right to do it here. She would have wanted to be part of his life, and his future. “Marry me …please … I love you …”

“I love you too,” she said, coming closer to him, and taking his hand in her own as she looked at him, “but I can't …not now …don't ask me to do that …”

“I don't want to lose you …” He looked down at the small grave where his sister lay, just beneath them, next to the Christmas tree they had brought for her, “I lost her … I don't want to lose you …please, let's get married.”

“Not yet,” she said softly, wanting to give him everything, yet afraid to hurt him if she failed him. She was wiser than her years, and in some ways, wiser than he was.

“Will you promise to many me later?”

“I promise you solemnly on this day, Thomas Whittaker, that I will love you forever.” And she meant every word as she said it. She knew she would never forget what he had been to her ever since the first moment she'd met him. But what that meant, where their lives would lead, no one could promise that, or know now. She wanted to be part of his life forever, but who knew where life would take them?

“Will you promise to marry me?”

“If it's right, if it's what we both want.” She was always honest.

“I'll always be there for you,” he said solemnly, and she knew he meant it.

“And I for you. I'll always be your friend, Tommy …I'll always love you.” And if they were lucky, she would be his wife one day. She wanted that too, now, at sixteen, but she was wise enough to know that one day things might be different. Or maybe not, perhaps their love would grow in time, and one day be stronger than ever. Or perhaps like leaves, life's winds would blow them to the far corners of the earth and scatter them forever, but she hoped not.

“Ill be ready to many you, whenever you want,” he affirmed.

“Thank you,” she said, and reached up to kiss him. He kissed her, wishing she would promise him everything, but satisfied that she had given him what she could at the moment.

They stood silently, looking at the small Christmas tree then, and thinking about his sister. “I think she loves you too' he said quietly. “I wish she could be here and then he tucked Maribeth's hand into his arm, and led her back to the truck. It had grown colder since they had first come out, and they were both very quiet on the drive back to his house. There was something very peaceful between them now, something very strong and very clean, and very honest. And they both knew that they might be together one day, or they might not. They would try, they would be there for each other for as long as they could. At sixteen, that was a lot, more than some people had after a lifetime. They had hope, and promise, and dreams. It was a good way to start out. It was a gift they had given each other.

They sat talking quietly in the living room, looking at old albums, and laughing at baby pictures of him, and Annie. And Maribeth had dinner waiting when his parents came home from their trip. His parents were happy to be home and pleased to see them, and excited to see the Christmas tree, and Liz stopped and looked at it long and hard when she saw the familiar decorations, and then she looked at her son and smiled.

“I'm glad you put those on. I would have missed them if they weren't there.” It would have been like trying to forget she had ever existed, and Liz didn't want to forget that.

Thanks, Mom.” He was glad they had done the right thing, and they all went into the kitchen to have dinner. Maribeth asked about their trip, and Liz said it had gone well. She didn't look thrilled, but John nodded agreement. It had gone as well as it could have, given the circumstances. But they seemed pleased, and there was a festive atmosphere between them for the rest of the evening. Liz noticed something different about them though. They seemed more serious than they ever had before, and quieter, and they looked at each other with an even stronger bond than Liz had ever noticed between them.

“You don't suppose they did anything while we were gone, do you, John?” she asked him that night, in their room, and he looked amused.

“If you mean what I think you mean, even a sixteen-year-old boy couldn't overcome an obstacle like that one. I'd say your fears are definitely unfounded.”

“You don't think they got married, do you?”

“They'd need our permission to do that. Why?”

“They just look different to me. Closer somehow, more like one than two, the way married people are, or are supposed to be.” The trip had been good for them too. Being alone in a hotel room had brought them closer than they'd been in years, and he'd taken her out for a very nice dinner. And they had accomplished more or less what they wanted before that.

“I think they're just very much in love. We have to accept that' John said calmly.

“Do you suppose they really will get married one day?”

“It wouldn't be the worst thing for either of them. And they've already been through a lot together. It may prove to be too much for them, in the end, or it might be the making of them. Only time will tell. They're both good kids, I hope they do stay together.”

“She wants to wait though,” Liz said, understanding that well, and he smiled ruefully.

“I know about that kind of woman.” But it was a good kind, as time had proven to him. Not always an easy kind, but a good one. “If it's meant to be, they'll find a way to make it work eventually. If not, they'll have had something most people never have in a whole lifetime. In some ways, I envy them.” There was something about starting out again that appealed to him, about having a new life and a clean slate. He would have loved to start fresh with Liz. But for them, in some ways, it was too late now.

“I don't envy her what she'll have to go through,” Liz said sadly.

“You mean the delivery?” He sounded surprised, Liz had never complained much about childbirth.

“No, I mean giving the baby up. That won't be easy.” He nodded, sorry for her. Sorry for both of them for the pains they would have to go through, growing up, yet still envying them what they shared and had to look forward to, separately or together.

Liz lay close to John that night, as he slept, and Maribeth and Tommy sat and talked for hours in the living room.

They felt exactly what his mother had seen, closer, and more one than two. They were each more than they had ever been. And for the first time in her life, Maribeth felt as though she had a future.

The alarm woke everyone up the next day, and Maribeth showered and dressed in time to help Liz serve breakfast. Liz had arranged for Maribeth to take a special exam to skip the first half of her senior year. And Tommy had finals that day too. They talked about their exams back and forth over the table. The school was letting her take them in a special room, in the administration building, where none of the students would see her, and Liz was going to meet her there for the tests that morning. The school had been incredibly decent to her, they were doing everything they could to help her, thanks to Liz going to bat for her. And when they left each other outside the school, Tommy wished her luck, and then hurried off to his classes.

The rest of the week seemed to fly by, and the next weekend was the last before Christmas. Liz finished her Christmas shopping, and on her way home, she hesitated for a moment, and then turned around and decided to go and see Annie. She had been postponing it for months, because it was too painful for her, and yet today, she felt that she had to.

She drove through the gates of the cemetery, and found the place where they had left her and as she approached, she stopped and gasped when she saw it. She saw the little tree, listing slightly to one side, the ornaments tinkling in the wind, just as they had left them. She walked slowly up to it, and straightened it, tucking the tinsel in again, looking at the familiar ornaments Annie had hung on their tree only the year before. Her little hands had so carefully put them just where she wanted, and now her mother remembered every word, every sound, every moment, every silent agony of the past year, and yet suddenly it was a bittersweet kind of pain as she felt the floodgates open and engulf her. She stood there silently for a long time, crying for her little girl, and looking at the tree Maribeth and Tommy had brought her. She touched the prickly branches then, like a little friend, and whispered her name …just the sound of it touched her heart like baby fingers.

“I love you, little girl … I always will …sweet, sweet Annie …” She couldn't say goodbye to her, knew she never would again, and she went home feeling sad, and yet strangely peaceful.

No one was home when she got there, and she was relieved. Liz sat alone in the living room for a long time, looking at their tree, seeing the familiar ornaments there. It was going to be hard having Christmas without her. It was hard every day. It was hard having breakfast and lunch and dinner and trips to the lake or anywhere without their little girl. It was hard getting up in the morning and knowing she wouldn't be there. And yet she knew they had to go on. She had come to visit them, for a short time, if only they had known it would be that way. But what would they have done differently? Would they have loved her more? Given her more things? Spent more time with her? They had done all they could then, but as Liz sat dreaming of her, she knew she would have given an entire lifetime for another kiss, another hug, another moment with her daughter.

She was still sitting there, thinking of her when the children came home, full of life, their faces bright red and icy cold, full of stories about where they'd been and what they'd been doing.

She smiled at them then, and Tommy could see she had been crying.

“I just want to thank you two,” she said, choking on her own words, “for taking the tree to …thank you …” she said softly, and walked away quickly. Maribeth and Tommy didn't know what to say to her, and Maribeth was crying too, as she took off her coat and hung up their things. Sometimes she wished she could make it all better for them. They still all hurt so much from losing Annie.

His father came home a little while after that, his arms laden with packages, and Liz was in the kitchen by then, making dinner. And she smiled when she looked up to see him. There was more warmth between them these days, and Tommy was relieved to see that they weren't snapping at each other as much as they had been. Little by little, they were all getting better, though Christmas wasn't easy.

They all went to mass together on Christmas Eve, and John snored softly in the heat of the small church and the smell of the incense. It reminded Liz of when Annie had come with them, and often dozed between them, especially last year, when she was getting sick, and they didn't know it. When they got home, John went right to bed, and Liz finished putting out the presents. It was different this year, for all of them. There was no letter to Santa, no carrots for the reindeer, no delicious pretense, and there would be no wildly excited squeals on Christmas morning. But they had each other.

And as she turned to leave the room, Liz saw Maribeth lumbering down the hall, with her arms full of gifts for them, and she went to help her. She was so awkward now, and definitely slower. She had been uncomfortable for the past few days, the baby was very low, and she was glad that her exams were over. Liz suspected that the baby wouldn't wait much longer.

“Here, let me give you a hand,” she said, and helped her put the presents down. It was hard for Maribeth to bend over.

“I can hardly move anymore,” she complained good-naturedly, as Liz smiled. “I can't sit down, I can't get up, I can't bend over, I can't see my feet at all.”

“It'll all be over soon,” Liz said encouragingly, and Maribeth nodded in silence. And then she looked at her. Maribeth had wanted to talk to Liz for days, without Tommy or his father.

“Could I talk to you for a few minutes?” Maribeth asked her.

“Now?” Liz looked surprised. “Sure.” They sat down in the living room, near the tree, within arm's length of all of Annie's decorations. Liz felt better about them now. She loved seeing them every day. It was like seeing her, or something she had touched not long ago. It was almost like a visit from Annie.

“I've done a lot of thinking about this,” Maribeth said anxiously. “I don't know what you'll think, or say, but … I … I want to give you my baby.” She almost held her breath after she said it.

“You what?” Liz stared at her, as though she didn't absorb it. The enormity of what she had just said defied the imagination. “What do you mean?” Liz stared at her. Babies weren't something you gave away to friends, like Christmas gifts.

“I want you and John to adopt it,” Maribeth said firmly.

“Why?” Liz was stunned. She had never thought of adopting a baby. Of having one, yes, but not adopting one, and she couldn't even imagine John's reaction. They had talked about it years ago, before Tommy was born. But John never wanted to do it.

“I want to give you the baby, because I love you, and you're wonderful parents,” Maribeth said softly. It was the ultimate gift she could give them or her baby. She was still shaking but she sounded calmer. She was completely sure of what she was doing. “I can't take care of a child. I know everyone thinks I'm crazy to give it up, but I know I can't give it what it needs. You can. You would love it and be there for it, and take care of it, just like you've done for Annie and Tommy. Maybe I'll be able to do that too, one day, but I can't now. It wouldn't be fair to either of us, no matter what Tommy says. I want you to have it. I'd never ask for it back, I'd never come back to bother you, if you didn't want me to. … I would know how happy the baby was with you, and how good you were to it. That's what I want for my baby.” She was crying then, but so was Liz, as she reached for her hands and held them.

“That's not a gift you give to someone, Maribeth. Like a toy or an object. It's a life. Do you understand?” She wanted to be sure she understood what she was doing.

“I know that. I know all of it. It's all I've thought about for the last nine months. Believe me, I know what I'm doing.” She sounded as though she did, but Liz was still shocked. And what if she changed her mind? What about her son? How would he feel if they adopted Maribeth's baby, or any baby for that matter? And John? Liz's mind was whirling.

“What about you and Tommy? Are you serious about him?” How could she even know at sixteen? How could she make that kind of decision?

“I am. But I don't want to start off like this. This baby was never right for me. I don't even feel like it was meant for me. I just feel like I was meant to be here for it, for a time, to bring it to the right place and the right people. I'm not the right one. I want to marry Tommy one day, and have children of our own, but not this one. It wouldn't be fair to him, even if he doesn't know that.” Liz agreed with her, but it impressed her to hear Maribeth say it. She thought they needed a fresh start one day, if it would ever work for them, and there was no way anyone could know that. But starting at sixteen, with another man's child, was a tall order. “Even if we got married, I wouldn't try to take the baby away from you. It wouldn't even have to know I was its mother.” She was pleading with her, begging her to take her child, to give it the love and the life it deserved, and that she knew they could give it. “I feel like it was meant to be your baby, that that's why I came here, because it was meant to be …because of what happened …” She choked on the words and Liz's eyes filled with tears, “because of Annie.”

“I don't know what to say to you, Maribeth,” Liz said honestly, as tears streamed down her cheeks. “It's the most beautiful gift that anyone could give me. But I don't know if it's right. You don't just take another woman's baby.”

“What if that's what she wants, if it's all she has to give? All I have to give this baby is a future, a life with people who can give it that and love it. It's not fair that you lost your little girl, it's not fair that my baby will have no life, no future, no hope, no home, no money. What do I have to give it? My parents won't let me bring it home. I can't go anywhere. All I can do is work at Jimmy D's for the rest of my life, and I can't even pay for baby-sitters on my salary, if I keep it.” She was crying as she looked into Liz's eyes, begging her to take her baby.

“You could stay here,” Liz said quietly. “If you have nowhere else to go, you can stay with us. You don't have to give this baby up, Maribeth. I won't make you do that. You don't have to give it up to give it a good life. You can stay with us, like our daughter, if you want, and we'll help you.” She didn't want to force this girl to give her baby up, just because she couldn't support it. That seemed wrong to her, and if she took it at all, she wanted to do it because Maribeth really wanted her to, not because she couldn't afford it.

“I want to give it to you,” Maribeth said again. “I want you to have it. I can't do this, Liz,” she said, crying softly, and Liz took her in her arms and held her. “I can't … I'm not strong enough … I don't know how … I can't take care of this baby …please …help me …make it yours …no one understands what it's like, knowing you can't, and wanting the right thing for the baby. Please,” she looked up at her desperately, and both women were crying.

“You could always come back here anyway, you know. I don't want you to stay away if we do this. No one has to know the baby is yours … the baby wouldn't have to know …just us…. We love you, Maribeth, and we don't want to lose you.” And she knew only too well how much she meant to Tommy. She didn't want to spoil anything for him, out of selfishness, or her hunger for another child. It was a rare opportunity, an unthinkable gift, and she needed time to absorb it. “Let me talk to John,” she said quietly.

“Please tell him how much I want this,” she said, clinging to Liz's hands. “Please … I don't want my baby to go to strangers. It would be so wonderful if it were here with you …please, Liz …”

“We'll see,” she said softly, cradling her, trying to comfort her and calm her. She was getting overwrought, begging Liz to adopt her baby.

Liz made her some warm milk after that, and they talked about it some more, and then Liz tucked her into Annie's bed, and kissed her good night and went back to her own bedroom.

She stood still for a long moment, looking at John, wondering what he would say to her, and if the whole idea was more than a little crazy. There was Tommy to think about too, what if he didn't want them to? There were a thousand considerations. But even thinking about it made her heart pound in a way that nothing had for years …this was the gift of all time … the gift of life that she couldn't bear … the gift of another baby.

John stirred slightly as she got into bed next to him, and she almost wished he would wake up so she could ask him, but he didn't. Instead he wound his arms around her, and pulled her closer to him, as he had for years, until tragedy had struck them both numb for the past year. But she lay there in his arms, thinking, about what she felt, and what she wanted, and what was right for ail of them. Maribeth had made a powerful argument for them taking it, but it was hard to know if that was the right thing to do, or just very appealing because it was what she wanted.

She lay there for a long time, unable to sleep, and wishing him awake, and finally he opened his eyes and looked at her, as though sensing her anxious-ness. He was more than half asleep when he opened his eyes and spoke to her. “Is something wrong?” he whispered in the darkness.

“What would you say if I asked you how you felt about having another baby?” she asked, wide-awake, and wishing that he were more than just semiconscious.

“I'd say you were crazy,” he smiled and closed his eyes again, and drifted back to sleep in less than a minute. But that was not the answer she wanted.

She lay there awake next to him all night, and she only slept for a half hour before daybreak. She was too wound up to sleep, too worried, too nervous, too filled with questions and terrors and concerns and longing. And she finally got up, and went to the kitchen in her nightgown and made herself a cup of coffee. She sat there staring into it for a long time, and sipping it, and by eight o'clock she knew what she wanted. She had known it long before, but she hadn't known if she would have the courage to pursue it. But she knew she had to do it now, not just for Maribeth and the child, but for herself, and John, and maybe even for Tommy. The gift had been offered to them, and there was no way she was going to refuse it.

She took her cup of coffee and went back to their bedroom and woke him. He was surprised to see her up. There was no rush to get up this year, no reason to dash into the living room and see what Santa had left under the tree. They could all get up in good time, and Tommy and Maribeth hadn't stirred yet.

“Hi,” she said, smiling at him. It was a small shy smile he hadn't seen in a long time, and reminded him of when they had been a lot younger.

“You look like a woman with a mission.” He smiled and rolled over on his back, stretching.

“I am. Maribeth and I had a long talk last night,” she said, as she approached the bed, and sat down next to him, praying he wouldn't refuse her. There was no way to doctor this up, to delay, or stall. She knew she just had to tell him, and she was terrified to do it. It mattered so much to her. She wanted it so much, and she desperately wanted him to want it, and she was afraid he wouldn't. “She wants us to keep the baby,” she said softly.

“All of us?” He looked startled. “Tommy too? She wants to many him?” John sat up in bed, looking seriously worried. “I was afraid that would happen.”

“No, not all of us. And she doesn't want to many him, not now in any case. You and I. She wants us to adopt the baby.”

“Us? Why?” He looked more than shocked. He looked incoherent.

“Because she thinks we're good people and good parents.”

“But what if she changes her mind, and what are we going to do with a baby?” He looked horrified and Liz smiled at him. It had definitely given him a jolt first thing in the morning.

“The same thing we did with the other two. Stay awake all night for two years and long for the days when we got some sleep, and then enjoy the hell out of it for the rest of our lives … or theirs,” she said sadly, thinking of Annie. “It's a gift, John …for a moment, for a year, for as long as life is willing to let us keep it. And I don't want to turn it down. I don't want to give up my dreams again … I never thought we'd have another child, and Dr. MacLean says I can't …but now this girl has walked into our lives and offered to give us back our dreams.”

“What if she wants it back in a few years, when she grows up, and gets married, or even if she marries Tommy?”

“I suppose we can protect ourselves legally, and she says she won't. I don't think she will. I think she really believes that it will be a better life for the baby if she gives it up, and she means it. She knows she can't take care of it. She's begging us to keep it.”

“Wait till she sees it,” he said cynically. “No woman can carry a baby for nine months and give it up just like that.”

“Some can,” Liz said matter-of-factly. “I think Maribeth will, not because she doesn't care, but because she cares so much. It's her greatest act of love for that baby, giving it up, giving it to us” Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she looked at her husband. “John, I want it. I want it more than I've ever wanted anything …please don't say no …please let us do it.” He looked at her long and hard while she tried not to tell herself that she would hate him if he didn't let her do it. She couldn't believe that he could possibly know all that she'd been through, and how badly she wanted this child, not to replace Annie, who would never come back to them again, but to move forward, to bring them joy again, and laughter and love, to be a shining little light in their midst. It was all she wanted and she couldn't believe he would ever understand that. She knew that if he didn't let her do it, she would die.

“All right, Liz,” he said softly, taking her hands in his own. “It's all right, baby … I understand …” he said, as tears rolled down her cheeks as she clung to him, realizing how unfair she had been to him. He did know. He was still the same man he had always been, and she loved him more than ever. They'd been through so much and they'd survived. “We'll tell her we'll do it. I think we should speak to Tommy though. He has to feel the same way about it that we do.”

She agreed to that, and she could hardly wait for him to wake up. It was another two hours, and he was up before Maribeth. He was stunned when his mother explained what Maribeth had offered them. But he had come to understand recently just how strongly Maribeth felt about giving up the baby, and that she felt it was right for her, and for the baby, and she wanted to do it and give it a better life. And now that he felt he might not lose her after all, he was less panicked about forcing her to marry him, and taking on the baby. In fact, he thought it was the ideal solution. He hoped that one day he and Maribeth would have children of their own, but for this child, it was the perfect solution. And he could see in his mother's eyes how much it meant to her. His parents seemed closer already as they talked to him, and his father looked powerful and calm, as he sat next to Liz and held her hand. In some ways, it was very exciting. They were about to share a new life.

And when Maribeth got up, they were all waiting for her to tell her their decision. They had unanimously agreed to adopt the baby. She looked at them and started to cry in relief, and then she thanked all of them and hugged them, and cried some more. They all cried, it was an emotional time for all of them. A time of hope and love, a time of giving and sharing. A time to start again, with the gift she gave them.

“You're sure?” Tommy asked her that afternoon as they went for a walk, and she nodded, looking absolutely certain. They had opened their gifts and had a huge lunch. This was the first chance they'd had to talk to each other alone since that morning.

“It's what I want,” she said, feeling very calm and very strong. She felt more energetic than she had in a long time. And they walked all the way to the skating pond and back, which was several miles. But she said she had never felt better. She felt as though she could do anything now. She felt as though she had done what she had come here to do. She had given them the gift that she was meant to give them. And once she had, all of their lives would be richer from the blessing they had shared with each other.

She tried to explain it to him as they walked back, and he thought he understood it. But sometimes it was hard to listen to her. She was so serious and so intense, and so beautiful it distracted him. When they stopped on the front steps when they got home, he kissed her, and he felt her tense against him as he did, and clutch his hand, and she bent over as he tried to hold her.

“Oh my God! oh my God! …” he said, suddenly terrified as he sat her down gently on the step as she held her belly down low and tried to catch her breath in the sharp pain of the contraction. He ran inside to get his mother, and when she came out, Maribeth was sitting there wide-eyed, looking frightened. She was in labor. And it had started harder than she had expected.

“It's all right, it's all right.” Liz tried to calm them both and told Tommy to get his father. She wanted to get Maribeth inside and call the doctor. “What did you kids do? Walk to Chicago?”

“Just to the pond and back,” Maribeth said, and gasped. She was having another pain again. They were long and hard and she couldn't understand it. It wasn't supposed to start like this, she said to Liz, as she and John helped her inside, and Tommy stood by looking nervous. “I had a stomachache this morning, and it went away after that,” she said, unable to believe what was happening. There had been no warning whatsoever.

“Have you had any cramps?” Liz asked gently, “or a backache?” Sometimes it was easy to misinterpret the early signs of labor.

“I had a backache last night, and cramps this morning with the stomachache, but I thought it was from all the food I ate last night.”

“You've probably been in labor since last night,” Liz said gently, which meant they didn't want to waste time getting her to the hospital. The walk had obviously started her into hard labor. Her due date was the following day, she was right on time, and her baby didn't want to waste a minute. It was almost as though now that she knew the Whittakers were taking it, the baby could come. There was no holding back now.

As soon as they got her inside, Liz started timing her pains, and John went to call the doctor. Tommy sat next to her, holding her hand, and looking miserable for her. He hated to see her in so much pain, but neither of his parents was worried. They were warm and sympathetic to her, and Liz didn't leave her for a minute. The pains were three minutes apart, and they were long and hard, and John came to tell them that Dr. MacLean said to come right away. He would meet them at the hospital in five minutes.

“Do we have to go now?” Maribeth asked, looking very young and very scared, as she glanced from Liz to Tommy to John. “Can't we stay here for a while?” She was almost in tears and Liz assured her that she couldn't put this off any longer. It was time to go now.

Tommy threw some things in a bag for her, and five minutes later they were on their way. Liz and Tommy sat in the backseat with her, and held her between them, and John drove as fast as he could on the icy roads. And as soon as they got to the hospital, Dr. MacLean and a nurse were waiting for her. They put her in a wheelchair and started to roll her away, and she grabbed frantically for Tommy.

“Don't leave me,” she begged him, clutching his hands and crying, and Dr. MacLean smiled at them. She was going to be fine. She was young and healthy, and she was well on her way now.

“You'll see Tommy in a little while,” the doctor reassured her, “with your baby.” But she only started to cry at that, and Tommy kissed her gently.

“I can't go with you, Maribeth. They won't let me. You've got to be brave now. I'll be with you next time,” he said, letting go of her gently so they could take her away. But Maribeth turned frightened eyes to Liz and asked her if she would come with her, and the doctor agreed to that. And Liz felt her heart pound as she followed them into the elevator, and then the labor room, where they undressed Maribeth and then examined her to see how far along she was. Maribeth was almost hysterical by then, and the nurse gave her a shot to calm her. She was better after that, though she was in a lot of pain, but once he checked her, the doctor said it wouldn't be long. She was fully dilated and ready to push now.

They rolled her into the delivery room then, and Maribeth clung to Liz's hand, and looked up at her with eyes that trusted her completely. “Promise you won't change your mind …you'll take it, won't you, Liz? You'll love it …you'll always love my baby …”

“I promise,” Liz said, overwhelmed by her trust, and the love they shared. “I'll always love it … I love you, Maribeth …thank you …” she said, and then the pains engulfed the girl again, and the next hours were hard work for her. The baby was turned the wrong way for a time, and they had to use forceps. They put a mask over Maribeth's face and gave her some gas. She was groggy and confused and in agony, but Liz clung to her hand throughout. It was after midnight, when finally a small wail rang out in the delivery room, and the nurse took the ether mask off so Maribeth could see her daughter. She was still half asleep, but she smiled when she saw the small pink face, and then she looked up at Liz with eyes filled with relief and joy.

“You have a little girl,” she said to Liz. Even in her drugged state, she had never lost sight of whose baby it was now.

“This is your little girl,” the doctor corrected, smiling at Maribeth, and then he handed the baby to Liz. Maribeth was much too groggy to hold her, and as Liz looked down into the tiny face, she saw strawberry blond hair, and eyes so full of innocence and love Liz trembled as she held her.

“Hello,” she whispered as she held the child that was to be hers, feeling almost as she had when her own were born. She knew this was a moment she would never forget, and she wished she could have shared it with John. It had meant so much to see her born, to see her suddenly emerge and cry out, as though she was calling to them, and telling them she had made it. They had all waited for her for so long, Maribeth was given another shot and she drifted back to sleep, and they let Liz take the baby into the nursery, where they weighed her and cleaned her up. Liz stayed to watch everything as she held the tiny fingers in her hand. A few minutes later, she saw John and Tommy arrive at the nursery window, and both men stood there staring.

The nurse let her hold the baby again and she held it up to John and showed him. And he started to cry the moment he saw their daughter. “Isn't she beautiful?” she mouthed, and suddenly all he could see was his wife, and all they'd been through. It was hard not to think of Annie when she'd been born, but this baby was very different, and she was theirs now.

“I love you' he whispered from the other side, and Liz nodded and mouthed the same back to him. She loved him too, and she realized now with terror and gratitude that they almost hadn't made it. But they had, remarkably, thanks to Maribeth, and the gift she'd given them, and the love they had always shared, but had almost forgotten.

Tommy looked excited when he saw the baby, and he was relieved when Liz joined them so he could ask her how Maribeth was. Liz assured him that she was fine, had been very brave, and was sleeping.

“Was it really awful, Mom?” he asked, worried about her, and impressed by what she'd done. The baby weighed eight pounds fourteen ounces, a big baby for anyone, let alone a sixteen-year-old girl who hadn't known what to expect. Liz had felt sorry for her more than once, but the doctor had been generous with the anesthetics. It would be easier for her the next time. And the rewards for her would be greater.

“It's hard work, Son,” Liz said quietly, impressed by everything that had happened. Particularly if you were doing it for someone else, and not keeping the baby.

“Will she be okay?” His eyes asked a thousand questions he didn't completely understand. But his mother reassured him.

“She'll be fine. I promise.”

They brought her down to her room an hour later, still half asleep and very woozy, but she saw Tommy instantly and clung to his hand, telling him how much she loved him, and how pretty the baby was. And suddenly as she watched them, Liz felt a wave of terror wash over her like nothing she'd ever known. What if Maribeth changed her mind, if she decided to marry Tommy after all and keep the baby?

“Did you see her?” Maribeth asked Tommy excitedly, as Liz glanced at John and he took her hand in his own to reassure her. He knew what she was thinking, and he had terrors of his own.

“She's beautiful,” Tommy said, kissing her, and worried by how pale she looked. She was still more than a little green from the ether. “She looks just like you,” he said, but she had strawberry blond hair instead of hair the color of flame.

“I think she looks like your mom.” Maribeth smiled at Liz, feeling a bond with her she knew she'd never again feel for anyone. They had shared the birth of her baby. And she knew she couldn't have gotten through it without her.

“What are you going to name her?” Maribeth asked Liz, drifting slowly back to sleep, as Liz felt relief sweep over her again. Maybe she wouldn't change her mind after all. Maybe this really was going to be her baby. It was hard to believe it, even now.

“What do you think of Kate?” Liz asked just as Maribeth closed her eyes again.

“I like it,” she whispered, and drifted off to sleep, still holding Tommy's hand. “I love you, Liz …” she said, with her eyes closed.

“I love you too, Maribeth,” Liz said, kissing her cheek and signaling the others to leave. She had had a difficult night and she needed her sleep. It was three o'clock in the morning. And as they walked softly down the hall, they stopped at the nursery window. And there she lay, all pink and warm and wrapped in a blanket, staring at them, looking straight at Liz as though she had been waiting for her for a long time. It was as though she had been meant for them all along. A gift from a boy who knew none of them, and a girl who had passed through their lives like a rainbow. And as they stood staring at her in wonder, Tommy looked at his parents and smiled. He knew Annie would have loved her.