“See, I saw a marked change in your mother after she found out she was pregnant with Noah. We had taken precautions because she fully intended to go back to college. Your mother had plans to go to school and do something great with her life. She was really depressed when she found out she was pregnant with Noah.”
Imagining Mom so young, realizing she would have to put her dreams aside . . . I immediately felt sorry for her. It couldn’t have been easy. Here she already had one unplanned child—me. Now she was going to have another.
“I hate to admit this,” Dad went on, “but I suggested she get an abortion. I knew she didn’t want another child, and I figured if she aborted the baby she could go ahead with her plans to return to school.”
“What happened?”
“She considered it, then decided to talk to someone at her church. They were quite hard on her. They convinced her that she was being purely selfish and that it would be murder. Of course, I believe that now—but I didn’t then. Abortion seemed an easy solution.
“Your mother convinced herself that if she had an abortion she would go to hell. The church folk would even call her at home and plead with her to stand strong and carry the pregnancy to term. They even suggested she give the child up for adoption, but when she mentioned that to me . . . well . . . I have to say, I wasn’t exactly congenial.”
I could well imagine my father’s anger at the interference being caused by the church. Dad would have rebelled at even the hint that a supreme deity need run his life.
“When I found out we were having a boy, I no longer wanted her to abort. I told your mother that we needed to go through with this, and then afterward we’d decide how to keep from having additional children. I told her a boy and a girl was a perfect combination and that we could put two children in daycare as easily as one, and she could still go back to school.”
“What did she say?”
Dad rubbed his hands along the front of his jeans. “She seemed to agree. I mean, the church folks had convinced her abortion was murder, and now I was glad they had. I wanted a son, and when Noah was born, I couldn’t have been happier.”
“And Momma?”
“Well, I think she was happy that she’d pleased me, but I think another baby just overwhelmed her. She never did seem to really adjust, and I worried about her. The doctor said it was normal—especially since she hadn’t wanted another baby. The doctor said in time she would come to terms with the situation and that I just needed to give her space.
“Your mother seemed to adjust once she was home, and in the days that followed, I felt more confident that the doctor had been right. Your mother appeared quite willing to care for Noah and you, and even though I thought she was being too liberal with the way she allowed you to watch over him and even carry him at times, I was relieved that things seemed normal again.”
“But they weren’t,” I said as if he’d forgotten.
He shook his head. “No, they weren’t.”
“So what happened?”
“Well, like I said, she convinced me that everything was fine. I went to work, and when I came home that evening . . . that was when I found Noah . . . dead.”
I put my hand to my mouth. I couldn’t even speak for a moment. I kept thinking of how awful it must have been for him to know that something hadn’t been quite right, but having no proof, he’d had to put aside his concerns and do his job. Then to come home and find his son dead . . .
“The memories you had . . . from your nightmare . . . I have to believe were true. I have no reason to think otherwise. I think your mother was overwhelmed when she realized Noah was dead—maybe her mind wouldn’t even accept it when she took him to his crib after hiding you both. Instead she needed someone else to blame.”
“Me.” I shook my head. “She put the blame on me.”
He looked away. “Yes.”
“I remember the policeman took me away from her because she was so angry. She was shaking me and yelling at me.”
Dad met my eyes. “Yes, that happened.”
“She told me it was my fault. And she slapped me hard. The police officer was angry with her. You came and took hold of her.”
He nodded. “It was just like that.”
I closed my eyes. “The officer took me out of the room and Mom continued to scream after me. I was so scared. I thought the officer was a bad man taking me away. I thought I would never see any of you again.” I felt the fear tightening around my throat.
Dad reached out and took hold of my hand. “I’m so sorry, Bailee. I’m sorry that you remember any of that.”
All of my life I had lived with a guilt that couldn’t be explained. I had taken on responsibility for my sisters—motivated by a fear that I couldn’t understand. There had been such desperation in our relationship. Now I understood why.
“A few nights after Noah’s death, I found your mother wandering around the backyard. She was in her nightclothes and it was cold for March in northern Texas. She was murmuring to herself, and as I drew closer I realized she was talking to her grandmother again. I didn’t understand then, but I do now.”
“What was she saying?” I asked, almost afraid to know.
“She kept saying over and over, “See, I took care of it, Grandma. Don’t be mad. I took care of it.”
I felt a chill come over me. “She killed Noah on purpose? It wasn’t just an accident caused by her paranoia?”
Dad didn’t need to answer. I could see the truth in his expression. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized just how many pieces were missing from the Cooper family puzzle. I guessed we all had our places that were filling in little by little.
“I’m so sorry, Daddy.” Thinking that Mom had just been scared and negligent in hiding a baby in a trash bag had been one thing. Knowing she had purposefully ended the life of her son was another.
Tears streamed down his cheeks and I couldn’t help but want to comfort him. But still, why did he allow Mom to be alone with us girls? What if all those times of hiding us, she’d really been trying to kill us as well. Maybe she thought that if she could just get rid of her children, her sanity would return. I shook my head. Mom didn’t think she had a problem, so she would never reason in that manner. So what had been her innermost purpose?
“I’m the one who’s sorry, Bailee. I know I can’t go back and do right by you girls. I was wrong to leave you in her care. I was wrong to have my suspicions and do nothing with them for fear of where they might lead. I wanted my family—my perfect little family.”
“A family that never existed,” I countered. “We were never perfect. We weren’t even close.” A thought came to mind. “Why did you have more children? If Mom didn’t want them—”
“But she did,” he interrupted. “I mean after Noah’s death, she was almost desperate to have another baby. I couldn’t deny her—it seemed like a healing kind of thing.”
“So Geena was a consolation.”
He nodded. “And Piper was our last attempt to have another son. It was after she was born that I came to realize how serious your mother’s condition really was.”
“But still you did nothing.”
“I know.” He wiped at his eyes. “I did what I thought was right. I got help for the house and figured it would be enough. I took her to doctors, hoping the medicine would restore your mother back to the woman I married.” He leaned back in a dejected fashion, tears continuing to stream. “It’s my fault. I can’t make the past right, Bailee. There is nothing I can do to go back and be the man that I should have been. Please . . . please forgive me.”
I was crying now too. I reached out and took hold of his arm. “I forgive you,” I whispered, barely able to speak. “I forgive you.”
“Seems like I’ve missed out on all the excitement,” Mark declared on the phone a few nights later.
“Yes, I suppose you could say that.” I’d just filled him in on all the details of my illness and epiphany. “It’s the kind of excitement I’d just as so
on avoid.”
“Geena said you were pretty sick. I was just about to resign my position and fly back out to Seattle.”
“So does that mean you aren’t giving up on me . . . on us?” I asked.
For a minute he said nothing and then I heard him sigh. “I wasn’t sure you wanted me to keep trying.”
“I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted either, until I really thought I might lose you.” I gazed at the water from the deck table. The aroma of sweet honeysuckle wafted on the air. “Mark, I know our relationship has been a challenge, but I . . . well . . . I want it to work out.”
“I’m glad to hear you say so.”
“Me too,” I had to admit. “I’d like it all to work out.”
“So does that include the job? Dad’s been bugging me to get a commitment from you.”
I drew a deep breath. “I’ve never been good at commitments, but you can tell him yes on the job. With one provision.”
“Name it.”
I smiled. “I need some time to work from Boston.”
“What are you proposing?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that very thing. I’d like to suggest that I work out of my home and come into New York City twice a week. For example Tuesday and Friday.”
“Tuesday and Friday. For how long?” he asked, seeming to give the matter serious consideration.
“Just until the end of the year.”
I could almost see him frown and calculate exactly how many months we were talking about. When he answered, I nearly laughed aloud.
“That’s six months.”
“Yes. I need that time, Mark. If it won’t work,” I said, sobering, “then I’ll have to say no to the job. However, if you’ll give it a chance, I promise that you won’t be sorry. I’ll do the work of two editors. I’ll keep extra long hours when I’m there.”
He actually chuckled. “I wasn’t so concerned about the job having your attention as I was me having your attention.”
“I considered that too.” I smiled. “I thought maybe, if it was necessary to have face-to-face communication more than twice a week—maybe you could come to Boston for a day or two. For instance, you could come back on Fridays with me and stay at my condo in the city while I stayed at Dad’s. We could have the weekend to see each other—even work together, and then focus on work Monday and take the train back to New York on Tuesday.”
“I have to say, I like the way you think. But what am I supposed to do Wednesday and Thursday without you?”
I laughed. “There’s always the telephone and email.”
“Not the same, but I suppose it’s a doable compromise.”
I grew serious again. “It would just be until the first of the year. I think I can wrap up things by then. I want to use this time to go to counseling with my sisters and see what the outcome is with Piper’s health. And I think we need time to adjust to our new . . . relationship.”
“So you’d move to New York City full time after the first of the year?”
“That depends.”
“On what?” Mark’s curious tone only served to make me feel ornery.
“On the next phase of our project together.”
He was quiet for a moment, and I thought perhaps I’d said the wrong thing. I was just about to backtrack when he spoke again.
“Well, phase two is quite a serious portion of the project.”
His statement took me by surprise. “I see, and what might that involve?”
He chuckled. “Well, phase two will require a commitment.”
“What kind of commitment?”
“Nothing too major . . . just you and me together forever and ever and ever.”
“Oh. Is that all?” I glanced at my left hand and thought of how a ring might look. “Well, I suppose that’s something to take under consideration.” I got up and walked to the deck railing. The Seattle ferry was approaching and I couldn’t help but think of that first trip I’d taken with Mark. I’d been so unnerved by his nearness, but at the same time there had been a comfort and ease I couldn’t explain.
“I like the sound of permanency,” I said without really thinking. “Forever is something I’ve never really felt I could count on.”
“Well, if I have anything to say about it, you can count on it with me.” Mark’s voice stirred my heart. “And you know you can count on it with God. Between Him and me, you should never need to worry about being loved.”
“Love?” I questioned. He had told me he loved me when I took him to the airport, but I still had a hard time believing it. I longed to hear Mark declare his love for me again. He didn’t disappoint.
“Yes, love. I love you, Bailee Cooper. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”
I gave a contented sigh. Finally my life was moving forward. The chains of the past had been broken. “I was hoping that was part of phase two. I think I like the way this is coming together.” I thought I might start to cry from the sheer joy of it all.
Mark didn’t seem to realize the importance this moment held for me. He gave a chuckle and added in his teasing manner, “If you like this phase, just wait until you hear what I have planned for phase three.”
Chapter 24
The months passed in a most productive manner. I was happy to discover that Dinah not only approved of my new Christian values, but was in fact a Christian herself. She had done a remarkable and professional job of keeping her faith to herself, but when she learned of my life change, the first thing she did was invite me to come to her church. Our counseling also changed for the better, as she was free to help me explore more biblical ways to experience healing. It wasn’t long until Dinah was actually talking about the day I would be able to stop seeing her as a therapist altogether.
I gave Dinah’s nondenominational church a try and found it very much to my liking. Judith and Dad even joined me one Sunday, and by October it became a habit. Mark attended on the weekends when he could be in Boston—which were most of them. Geena and Piper still wanted little or nothing to do with religious matters, but that was all right. They were both willing to attend counseling with a new therapist we had chosen together. It wasn’t Mark’s friend, but rather someone the friend had recommended, and the changes brought on by our time together had been remarkable.
Overall, autumn brought with it a healing of hearts that I had never thought possible. We still had our issues and I continued to have nightmares occasionally, but now I had better ways to deal with them. I found prayer to be a remarkable help. Perhaps the best thing about my life now was the sense of freedom I possessed. My past had always held me hostage, but no more. It wasn’t that the past had changed, but I had. And that made all the difference in the world.
My new routine became something I cherished rather than avoided. Mark and I had just arrived back in Boston after a grueling and chilly Friday in New York. The economy was forcing some changes in the way things were being done at the publishing house, and freelance editors were to be the norm instead of the exception. Mark and I had worked long and hard on a schedule that would fit all of our needs. Because of that, we generally spent our weekends in Boston.
The minute we stepped off the train, my cell phone rang. I checked the ID and then answered. The call was coming from the Cooper house. “Hello?”
“Hi, Bailee. Are you and Mark back in Boston?”
“Yes, just arrived in fact.” I mouthed to Mark that it was my stepmother, then turned my attention back to her as we made our way to the cab stand.
“Can you two make dinner tonight? We have several things to discuss and we wanted you girls to be there.”
“Just a minute. Let me ask Mark.” I turned to him. “Do you have a problem with us going right over to Mom and Dad’s?” I had only recently started calling Judith Mom and it always seemed to bring a smile to Mark’s face.
“That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll get us a taxi.”
“That’ll be expensive,” I countered. “We could just take the T.”
“Cozier this way. I’ve had enough of crowds.”
I shrugged and uncovered the phone. “He said that would be fine. We’ll grab a cab and be there as soon as possible.”
“Wonderful. We’ll be waiting.”
Mark had us settled in a taxi in no time. The driver wove us in and out of traffic like a madman, but I didn’t mind. I snuggled into Mark’s arms and let the world disappear. I loved the feel of his cashmere coat and the way he smelled. I pretty much loved everything about him, although in all these months I’d never told him so.
This made me frown. Why couldn’t I say those words? I felt them. I knew they were true. I’d asked Dinah on more than one occasion why I found it so hard to just tell him how I felt.
“He has to already know how I feel about him,” I told her. “My actions certainly confirm it, even if my mouth isn’t able to.”
Dinah had assured me that when the time was right—when I felt safe enough, sure enough—I would say them. So what was the hold up?
We arrived at the house after eight o’clock and I was starving. Geena had arrived only minutes before us and was still standing in the foyer dumping a backpack of books to one side.
She was dressed stylishly as usual in knee boots, black tights, pencil skirt, and a pumpkin-colored angora sweater. I leaned forward and kissed her, feeling rather frumpy in my black suit. “Gorgeous as always,” I declared.
“It’s what all the fashionable law students are wearing.” She turned from me and gave Mark a hug. “How’s the publishing world?”
“Wordy,” he said with a cocky grin.
“Come on, you three,” Piper declared from the archway. “Judith and Dad are waiting for you.”
“What? We can’t sit and have a nice chat before dinner?” I teased. “What’s the rush? Oh yeah, I’m starved. Let’s move it, folks.”
Mark laughed and gave me a slight push. “You lead the way.”
I gave Piper a quick hug as I passed and dragged her along with me. “Come on. I understand there is something important to be discussed. Maybe you could clue us in first?”
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