The Gift

Chapter Eleven

The next two days were hectic for everyone, and more than a little overwhelming. John and Tommy got out Annie's old bassinet and repainted it, and Liz stayed up nights draping it in miles of pink gauze and satin ribbons. They got out old things and bought new ones, and in the midst of it all, Tommy went to Annie's grave, and sat there for a long time, looking at the Christmas tree he and Maribeth had brought her and thinking about the baby. He hated the thought of Maribeth leaving them and going home again. Somehow, it had all come so quickly. So much seemed to be happening at once. Much of it was happy. But some of it was painful.

But his mother was happier than he'd seen her all year, and when he saw Maribeth, she was serious and quiet. She'd had a long talk with Liz and John after the baby was born, and they assured her that they would understand if she had changed her mind. But she insisted steadfastly that she didn't want to. She was sad to give the baby up, but she knew more than ever now, that this was right. The next day, John called his attorney and set the wheels in motion for Maribeth to give up the baby.

The adoption papers were drawn up and brought to her, the lawyer explained them to her at length, and she signed the papers three days after Kate was born. She waived the waiting period, and signed the papers with a shaking hand, and then she hugged Liz tight, and they asked the nurse not to bring the baby in to her that day. She needed time to mourn her.

Tommy sat with her that night. She was strangely calm about her decision, but wistful too. They both wished everything could have been different. But Maribeth felt that this time she really had no choice. She had done the right thing, especially for the baby.

“It will be different next time, I swear,” Tommy said gently, and kissed her. They had been through so much, they both knew it was a bond that would not be severed. But she needed time just to catch her breath, and recover from everything that had happened. The doctor let her leave the hospital on New Year's Day, with the baby, and Tommy came to pick her up with his parents.

Liz carried the baby to the car, and John took pictures. They all spent a quiet afternoon at home, and whenever the baby cried, Liz went to her, and Maribeth tried not to hear her. She didn't want to go to her. She wasn't her mother now. She had to force herself to put distance between them. She knew there would always be a place for her in her heart, but she would never mother her, never be there for her in the dark of night, or with a bad cold, or read her a story. At best, if their lives stayed entwined, they would be friends, but nothing more. Even now, Liz was already her mother, and Maribeth wasn't.

And as Liz lay holding the baby late at night, watching her sleep, John watched them. “You already love her, don't you?” She nodded happily, unable to believe that he had been willing to let her do this. “There go two years of sleep, I guess.”

“It's good for you,” she smiled, and he walked across the room to kiss her. The baby had brought them so much closer again. She had given them hope, and reminded them of how sweet life could be when it begins, and how much it meant to share that.

Kate's arrival had brought Tommy and Maribeth closer to each other too. She seemed to need him more than she had before, and all she could think of now was how painful it would be when she left him. She felt strangely vulnerable, and as though she couldn't face the world without him. The idea of going home without him terrified her, and she dragged her feet about calling her parents to tell them the baby had been born. She had been meaning to call them all week, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. She wasn't ready to go home yet.

“Do you want me to call?” Liz asked two days after they'd come home from the hospital. “I'm not rushing you, but I think your mother would want to know that you're all right. She must be worried.”

“Why?” Maribeth said unhappily. She had done a lot of thinking in the last week, and some of it was about her parents. “What difference does it make now, if Daddy hasn't let her talk to me all year? She wasn't here when I needed her. You were,” Maribeth said bluntly, and there was no denying the truth of it. She no longer felt what she once had for them, not even her mother. Only Noelle had gone unscathed in Maribeth's heart.

“I don't think your mother can help it,” Liz said cautiously, setting the baby down in her bassinet. She had just fed her. “She's not a strong woman.” The description of her was more accurate than Liz knew. Maribeth's mother was completely tyrannized by her father. “I'm not sure she even understands how she failed you,” Liz said sadly.

“Have you talked to her?” Maribeth asked, looking confused. How could Liz know all that about her? Liz hesitated for a long moment before she answered, and then decided to make a clean breast of it, but Maribeth was startled by what Liz told her.

“John and I went to see them after Thanksgiving. We felt we owed it to you. We didn't even know you'd want to give us the baby then, but I wanted to see what kind of family you're going home to. You're still welcome to stay here if you want, no matter what. I want you to know that. I think they love you, Maribeth. But your father's a very limited man. He really doesn't see why you'd want an education. That was what I wanted to talk to him about. I wanted to be sure he'd let you go to college. You only have a few months until you finish school, and you need to apply now. With a mind like yours, you really owe it to yourself to get an education.”

“And what did my father say?” She still couldn't get over the fact that Liz had met them. They'd driven two hundred and fifty miles to see the parents who had rejected her completely for the last six months.

“He said it was good enough for your mother to stay home and take care of her kids, and you could do the same,” Liz said honestly. She didn't tell her that he had added “if she can still get a husband now,” which he doubted after her indiscretion. “He doesn't seem to understand the difference, or what a rare gem you are.” She smiled at the girl who had given her so much. And they wanted to do the same for her. But she and John had already talked about that. “I think he thinks we've filled your head with a lot of wild ideas about going to college. And I hope we have,” she said with a smile, “or I'll be very disappointed. In fact,” she paused briefly as John walked into the room, “we want to talk to you about something. We had a fund put aside for Annie, when she died, for her education, and well need to do the same for Kate now, but we have time for that. We started a college fund for Tommy a long time ago, so we want to give you the money we set aside for Annie, Maribeth, so you know you can go to college. You can come back here, or apply anywhere you want.”

Maribeth looked thunderstruck as John continued. “Your father and I discussed it, and we agreed that you'd go back home now, and finish school this spring, and after that, you can pretty much go anywhere. You can come back and stay with us.” He glanced at Liz, and she nodded. They had all three already agreed that Maribeth would always tell Kate she was their friend, and not her mother. Maybe one day, when she was grown up, if she needed to know, they would tell her. But in the meantime, Maribeth had no need to tell her the truth, and she didn't want to hurt anyone, not them, or the baby. “You've got your college education now, Maribeth. The rest is up to you. I don't think it's going to be easy at home, your father's not an easy man, but I think he's done some thinking too. He realized you made a mistake. I can't tell you he's forgotten it, but I think he'd like you to come home. Maybe you can all make your peace with each other in the next few months, before you move on to college.”

“I hate the thought of going home,” she admitted to them, as Tommy joined her and came to sit next to her and held her hand. He hated her going too, and had already promised that he'd visit as often as he could, though it was a good distance. But they both knew six months wasn't forever. It just felt like it to them. But at sixteen, time was endless.

“We're not forcing you to go back,” Liz said clearly to her, “but I think you should now for a while, for your mother's sake and to wrap things up in your own mind.” And then she said something to her she had promised John she wouldn't. “But I don't think you should stay there. They'll bury you alive if you let them.” Maribeth smiled at the accurate description. Being with her parents was like drowning.

“I know they'll try. But they can't do much now, thanks to you.” She put her arms around Liz and hugged her, still unable to believe what they were doing for her, but she had done a lot for them too. And as they spoke softly, the baby stirred and woke up, and she started to cry. Maribeth watched as Liz picked her up, and then Tommy took her. They handed her around sometimes like a little doll, everyone loving and cuddling her, and playing with her. It was exactly what she needed, exactly what Maribeth had wanted for her. And watching them, Maribeth knew that Kate would have an enchanted life. It was just what she wanted for her.

Tommy held her for a while and then held her out to Maribeth, and she hesitated for a long moment, and then changed her mind and reached out her arms. The baby instinctively nuzzled her and looked for her breast. Maribeth's breasts were still full of the milk her baby had never taken. And the baby smelled powdery and sweet as Maribeth held her, and then she handed her back to Tommy, feeling overwhelmed by sadness. It was still hard to be so near her. She knew that one day it would be easier, when her own life had moved on. Kate would be bigger then and less familiar than she was now.

I'll call them tonight' she said about her parents. She knew it was time to go home, at least for now. She needed to make peace with her parents, and then she'd be free to go on, to her own life. But when she called them, nothing had changed. Her father was blunt and unkind and asked her if she'd “gotten rid of it” and “taken care of business.”

“I had the baby, Dad,” she said coolly. “It's a girl.”

“I'm not interested. Did you give it away?” he said sharply, while Maribeth felt everything she'd ever felt for him turn to ashes.

“She's been adopted by friends of mine,” she said in a shaking voice, sounding far more grown up than she felt as she squeezed Tommy's hand. She had no secrets from him, and she needed his support more than ever. “I'll be coming home in a few days.” But as she said it, she squeezed Tommy's hand again, unable to bear the thought of leaving all of them. It was much too painful. And suddenly going back to her family seemed so wrong. She had to remind herself it wouldn't be for long. But then her father surprised her.

'Your mother and I will come to pick you up,” he said gruffly, and Maribeth was stunned. Why would they bother? She didn't know that the Whittakers had made a strong case for it. They didn't think she should go home alone on the bus, after giving up her baby. And for once, her mother had stood up to him and begged him to do it. “We'll come next weekend, if that's all right.”

“Can Noelle come too?” she asked, looking hopeful.

“We'll see,” he said noncommittally.

“Can I speak to Mom?” He said nothing more, but handed the phone over to her, and her mother burst into tears when she heard her daughter's voice. She wanted to know if she was all right, if the delivery had been terrible, and if the baby was pretty, and looked anything like her.

“She's beautiful, Mom,” she said, with tears rolling down her cheeks, as Tommy brushed them away with gentle fingers. “She's really pretty.” The two women cried for a few minutes and then Noelle got on the phone and sounded starved to hear her. The conversation was a jumble of exclamations and irrelevant bits of information. She had started high school, and she couldn't wait for Maribeth to come home. She was particularly impressed that she was going to be a senior. “Well, you'd better behave. I'm going to be keeping an eye on you,” she said through her tears, happy to talk to her again. Maybe Liz was right, and she did need to go back to see them, no matter how difficult it was going to be living in her parents' house again after everything that had happened. She hung up finally, and told Tommy they'd be there the following weekend to take her home.

The next few days went like lightning, as she got on her feet again, and got ready to leave. Liz had taken a leave of absence from work, to take care of the baby, and there seemed to be endless things to do with her, between feeding her and washing her, and doing mountains of laundry. It exhausted Maribeth just to watch her, and it made her realize all the more that she would have been overwhelmed by it.

“I couldn't do it, Liz,” she said honestly, amazed by how much work it was.

“You could, if you had to,” Liz said to her. “One day you will. You'll have children of your own,” she reassured her. “When it's easy and right, with the right husband, at the right time. You'll be ready for it then.”

“I wasn't now,” she confirmed. Maybe if the baby had been Tommy's, it would have been different. But it would have seemed so odd to hang on to Paul's child, and start out so wrong. She wondered if she ever could have managed it. But she didn't have to think about it now. All she had to do was let go, and leave. That was the hard part. The thought of leaving Tommy was excruciating, and leaving John and Liz was almost as painful, not to mention the baby.

She cried a lot of the time, at almost anything, and Tommy took her out every day after school. They went for long walks, and drove to the lake, and they laughed remembering when he had pushed her in and discovered she was pregnant. They went back to take down Annie's Christmas tree. They went everywhere as though to engrave every moment, every place, every day on their memories forever.

“I'll be back, you know,” she promised him, and he looked at her, wishing that he could either move time ahead or back, but away from the agonizing present.

I'll follow you, if you don't. It's not over, Maribeth. It never will be with us.” They both believed that in their souls. Theirs was a love that would bridge the past and the future. All they needed was time to grow up now. “I don't want you to leave,” he said, as he looked into her eyes.

“I don't want to leave you either,” she whispered. “I'll apply to college here.” And other places too. She still wasn't sure what it would be like to be so close to the baby. But she didn't want to lose Tommy either. It was hard to know what the future would hold for them, right now all they knew for certain was what had already come to them, and it was very precious.

“I'll visit,” he swore.

“Me too,” she said, fighting back tears for the thousandth time.

But the inexorable day was upon them in a moment. Her parents arrived in a new car her father had been working on in his shop. Noelle was there too, hysterical and fourteen with brand-new braces, and Maribeth cried and held her tight when she saw her. The two sisters clung to each other, relieved that they had found each other again, and in spite of all the things that had changed, to them, nothing seemed different.

The Whittakers invited them to stay for lunch, but her parents said they had to get back, and Margaret stood looking at her daughter with eyes filled with sorrow and regret for all she'd been unable to give her. She hadn't had the courage, and now she was ashamed that someone else had been there.

“You're all right?” she asked cautiously, almost as though she was afraid to touch her.

I'm fine, Mom.” Maribeth looked beautiful, and suddenly much older. She looked more like eighteen than sixteen. She'd grown up. She was no longer a little girl, she was a mother. “How are you?” she asked, and her mother burst into tears, it was an emotional moment, and she asked if she could see the baby. And she cried again when she saw it. She said it looked just like Maribeth when she was a baby.

They loaded Maribeth's things into the car, and she stood there, feeling a rock in her stomach. She went back inside, and into Liz's room and picked up Kate and held her close to her as the baby slept, unaware of what was happening, and that someone important was about to slip out of her life, never to return in exactly the same way again, if ever. Maribeth knew that there were no guarantees in life, only promises and whispers.

“I'm leaving you now,” she whispered to the sleeping angel. “Don't ever forget how much I love you,” she said, as the baby opened her eyes and stared at her as though she were concentrating on what Maribeth was saying. I won't be your mommy anymore when I come back here … I'm not even your mommy now … be a good girl …take care of Tommy for me,” she said, kissing her, and squeezing her eyes shut. It didn't matter what she had said about not being able to give her anything, or the life she deserved. In her gut, in her heart, this would always be her baby, and she would always love her, and to her very core she understood that. “I'll always love you,” she whispered into the soft hair, and then set her down again, looking at her for a last time, knowing that she would never see her that way again, or be as close to her. This was their final moment as mother and daughter. “I love you,” she said, and collided with Tommy as she turned away. He had been there, watching her, and crying silently for her sorrow.

“You don't have to give her away,” he said through his tears. “I wanted to many you. I still do.”

“So do I. I love you. But it's better this way, and you know it. It's so good for them … we have a whole life ahead of us,” she said, clinging to him, holding him, shaking as he held her. Oh God, how I love you. I love her too, but they deserve some happiness. And what can I do for Kate?”

“You're a wonderful person' he said, holding her with all his strength, wanting to shield her from everything that had happened and hold on to her forever.

“So are you,” she said, and then they walked slowly from the room together, and she left her baby behind her. It was almost more than she could do to walk out of the house with him, and Liz and John both cried when they kissed her goodbye, and made her promise to call them, and visit often. She wanted to, but she was still worried it would make them feel that she was crowding into Kate's life. But she needed to see them, and Tommy. Needed them more than they could ever know. And she still wanted a future with Tommy.

“I love you,” Tommy said fiercely, like the ultimate affirmation. He knew all her fears, her hesitation about infringing on their lives, but he wasn't going to let her go. And to her, knowing that was a comfort. She knew he would be there for her, if she wanted him, and for now she did. She hoped she always would. But the one thing they had all learned was that the future was uncertain. Nothing they had ever wanted or planned had ever happened as expected. They had never expected Annie to leave them so suddenly or so soon, or Kate to arrive, almost as quickly, or Maribeth to pass through their lives, like a visiting angel. The one thing they knew was they could count on very little.

“I love you all so much,” Maribeth said, hugging them again, unable to leave them, and then she felt an unexpectedly gentle hand on her arm. It was her fathers.

“Come on, Maribeth, let's go home,” he said, with tears in his own eyes. “We missed you.” And then he helped her into the car. Maybe he wasn't the ogre she remembered, but just a man with his own weaknesses and tarnished visions. Maybe in some ways, they had all grown up. Maybe it had been time for them to do that.

Tommy and his parents stood watching her as she drove away, hoping she'd come back to them, knowing that if life was kind, she would, to visit, or to stay forever. They were grateful for knowing her, they had given each other precious gifts, of love, and lives, and learning. She had brought them back to life, and they had given her a future.

“I love you,” Maribeth whispered as they drove away, and she stared at them through the rear window of her father's car. They watched her wave for as long as she could, and they stood there, thinking of her, remembering, until at last they went back inside to the gift she had left them.