baby.”
Mother sighed. “You can always have another one.”
I felt my anger boil in the pit of my stomach and it inched its way up and exploded in fits and bursts from my mouth. “I don’t want another one. I wanted this one.”
“Well, she’s gone.”
Tears stung my eyes and my mouth dropped open. “I had a daughter?”
Mother mashed her ruby lips together. “I don’t know if the baby was a boy or a girl.”
She was lying. I could tell by the red blotchiness spreading over her narrow neck. I had a daughter. And I knew that for the rest of my life, everywhere I went I’d look for her.
Would she have my blonde hair and blue eyes? Or Teddy’s dark hair and dark eyes?
I blew my nose into the tissues Mother had handed me. “Did he come?”
Mother shook her head. “Your father was too busy.”
“He’s always been too busy for me.”
“Now, Mary Katherine. You know your father cares about you.”
“Stop it. Stop making excuses for him. He’s never been anything but mean to me my entire life. And he’s been mean to you, too.”
Mother’s hand flew to her heart. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Stop. It’s not true.”
“It is, too. I’ve heard you crying at night when you think I’m asleep. I’ve seen the bruises on your arms and legs. He’s a tyrant and I hate him more than I’ve ever hated anyone.”
“He let me have you,” Mother said. “And a good family will get your baby and provide a wonderful life for her, just like I provided for you.”
“Yes, and just like me my baby will wonder why her birth mother didn’t want her. What kind of person gives their baby away to a total stranger?”
“A young girl who has her whole life ahead of her,” Mother said. “You know, it takes a lot of courage to give up your child.”
“Wrong, Mother. It takes a lot of courage to keep it and to ignore what others say behind your back.”
“But you’ve given your baby a chance to have a loving home.”
“Dear God, Mother. Father has brainwashed you.”
Mother sat on the chair next to my bed. “I’ve never met the woman who gave birth to you, Mary Katherine. I never wanted to. But if it hadn’t have been for her I’d never have become a mother. So, if your father gets a little angry sometimes, it doesn’t matter. I can deal with his anger, but I can’t deal with yours. So, please, stop. I don’t want to spend the entire trip home arguing.”
I didn’t want to spend it arguing either. I was too tired and all I wanted was to get as far away as possible from this hospital and the maternity house where I’d spent the last seven months. I wanted to sleep in my own bed in my own room.
Mother handed me a bag containing the clothes she’d brought me. “Would you like me to help you dress?”
I took the bag. “No. I’d like for you to leave while I get dressed.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I pulled out a black poodle skirt and white blouse. I undressed, rubbing my hand over my abdomen, which had been as big as a beach ball only days before. I wondered if I’d ever feel the tickle of a baby growing inside of me again. If I’d ever feel the tiny fist poking at me from the inside out. I pulled on the poodle skirt that thankfully Mother had bought in a larger size. I buttoned the blouse and tied a black scarf around my neck. I brushed my hair back and put it into a ponytail. I looked into the mirror. The girl staring back at me looked like the one who’d snuck out of the house more than a year ago to meet Teddy. But it wasn’t the same girl. That girl was gone and I knew she would never come back.
Rachel
“Come on, Piper. Hurry up and finish your cereal. You don’t want to be late for your first day of kindergarten.”
Piper shrugged her boney shoulders. “Why can’t I stay home with you, Rachel?”
“Because you have to go to school. It’ll be fun, you’ll see. Besides, you’re always playing school with your dolls; now you get to go to school for real.”
“But what if I don’t like it?” Piper shoveled a spoonful of cereal into her tiny mouth.
“You will. You’ll make new friends.” I filled my coffee mug.
“But what if they don’t like me?”
I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “They will. What’s there not to like about you?”
“Daniel said I look funny.”
“Well, you tell Daniel he looks funnier. Besides, what does he know?”
Piper’s blue eyes widened. “Daniel’s the smartest kid in daycare. He reads books and he knows every single dinosaur.”
I brushed back Piper’s blonde hair. “You’re smart, too. You know way more than I did when I was your age.”
“How old are you?
“How old do you think I am?”
Piper chewed her lip and squinted. “Fifty!”
I spit out the coffee I’d just sipped. “Fifty! No! Twenty-two. I was eighteen when you were born.”
“That’s old.”
“Thanks.”
“But not as old as mommy, right?”
“Right.”
Piper scrunched her freckled nose. “Are you going to be there when the bus brings me home?”
I sat down across from Piper and looked into her eyes. “Yes, I told you I will meet you at the bus stop this afternoon.”
“Mommy said she’d pick me up at daycare but she never did.”
“That’s because she was dead.” As soon as the words tumbled out of my mouth I wanted to stuff them back inside. But it was too late. I have this habit of saying what I’m thinking out loud. It was never a problem before Piper came into my life. I didn’t even know I had a sister until Linda… er, my mom from whom I’d been estranged… died. And now that I’m trying to raise Piper on my own, something I’ve only been doing for a few months, I’m drowning in this new territory, saying things out loud that I shouldn’t and making Piper sad.
Believe
