Gradually, she had talked herself into believing that it would work out.
She was not eager to have a child just now. She could welcome a baby, but, deep down, she knew that Charlie was adamant on the subject. Using the pill was entirely his idea. She was well aware of his reasons for this: the status quo, the unencumbered advance, the slow but steady growth of their life together, and so on.
But she’d been sure—actually, she had convinced herself—that he would change his mind: Once aware that it was a fait accompli, he would come around.
In her worst possible scenario, she’d never imagined the response she’d just witnessed. It was unbelievably horrible, the complete antithesis of what she had planned, what she had hoped for.
A candlelight dinner, gracious ambiance, a satisfying meal, perhaps some dancing. Then, when the mood was totally romantic, she would tell him, tenderly, lovingly.
And he would be receptive. Not the best timing, at least as far as he was concerned, but, all in all, good news. Oh, initially, he would be startled, shocked even; then he would recognize that sometimes fate steps in and changes human plans.
In her worst nightmares she could never have envisioned what had just happened.
He was gone. And forget the daydreams, the rose-colored glasses, the happy endings: He was gone for good.
And she was alone. More alone than she’d ever felt.
But not totally alone. There was someone growing inside her.
She would live for her child, completely for her child.
And someday, somehow, she would make Charlie pay for what he’d done.
Someday. Somehow.
She refused to let herself cry.
C H A P T E R
16
THEY MET AT A small restaurant on State Street in downtown Chicago. It was a pleasantly warm day in late August. Street traffic was heavy, with cars searching for a place to park or an avenue of escape, and pedestrians intent on business or pleasure. Few people in the Windy City were concerned with the condition of Maureen Monahan. Just the family with whom she was staying, and her two sisters.
Maureen, Eileen, and Oona were in no hurry. This restaurant served as kitchen, dining room, and visiting parlor for them. Their leisurely approach to lunch did not endear them to their waitress, who would have preferred that they eat and move along. As it was, she tried to be gracious in hopes of a generous tip.
Maureen had been living in Chicago a little more than two months. Fortunately, she had not begun to show her pregnancy until July. At that point it was necessary to get out of Detroit if she was going to keep her condition concealed from general knowledge.
After her bitter breakup with Charlie Nash, Maureen had confided only in her sisters. They had discussed the situation for hours— for days—before all the questions were answered, all the emotions were aired, all the plans made.
In the end, it was agreed that it was the three of them against the world. They also agreed that “the world” held most of the cards. But they would hang in there and press on regardless.
Maureen might have received a maternity leave from the telephone company, but that would have entailed informing the company of her condition. And that was absolutely unacceptable. So she applied for as much combination vacation and sick leave as she had accumulated. That would not begin to cover all the time she needed, but it was the best she could do. And it was not at all certain she would have a job waiting on her return.
Next, they made arrangements through the Legion of Mary in Chicago for a private home that would take Maureen in for the final few months of her pregnancy. The legion was an international association of Catholic laymen dedicated to helping out in the day-to-day charitable needs of the Church.
The Chicago couple who took Maureen in were kind and helpful, particularly the wife. But there was no avoiding the bottom line: During this most momentous event of her life, Maureen was a stranger among strangers.
Almost constantly her thoughts were on Charlie Nash. All that she was undergoing had been made necessary by his rejection of her at the most vulnerable moment of her life.
The distance between Chicago and Detroit, approximately three hundred miles, was sufficient to discourage frequent visits. Faced with that distance, neither Oona nor Eileen was a confident driver. And, in her condition, Maureen found driving increasingly challenging.
Trains came to the rescue. The rails enabled Oona and Eileen to visit occasionally, and Maureen to steal into Detroit periodically for checkups by her gynecologist. Through him, Maureen was scheduled to deliver at Harper Hospital in Detroit’s center city.
The women had just ordered their third refill of iced tea. Under her breath the waitress groused that they had just better leave a considerable tip.
“Would you like to leave here and walk around a bit?” Eileen asked. “You don’t look very comfortable.”
Maureen smiled ruefully. “It doesn’t matter all that much. It isn’t standing, sitting, or moving that’s the problem; pregnancy is uncomfortable.”
Her sisters knew that Maureen’s statement was, in plain evidence, incontrovertible. The condition of their flesh-and-blood sister was as close as either Eileen or Oona had ever come to being pregnant. They were used to the sleek, coordinated sister they’d always known and secretly admired. This gross, pear-shaped edition of Maureen seemed to need strings attached to keep her from becoming a float in the Thanksgiving parade.
“Are things working out with the people you’re staying with?” Oona asked.
“It’s all right. They’re nice enough people—and their kids are young enough not to question a brand-new ‘Aunt’ Maureen living with them for a little while.” She smiled again, weakly. “And they’re too blessedly young to know that there has to be a father that goes with my condition. So there aren’t many embarrassing questions … at least none I can’t field.”
“How about the couple?” Oona pressed.
“They’re okay. Mr. Peterson is preoccupied. He’s got his job and family to worry about. I get the impression that taking in people who need a temporary home was Ethel’s idea, not his.”
“And her? What’s she like?”
“A real help. She’s gone through three pregnancies herself, so she can tell me what to expect, and really sympathize. It’s not home … it’s not even close. But for what it wants to accomplish, it’s not bad.”
Eileen touched Maureen. “Dear, won’t you come back with us? You’ve only got a couple of months to go. We’d love to have you. You know that, don’t you?”
Maureen nodded. “Of course I know that. You’ve really been such a big help, both of you. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. But, no …” She shook her head. “I couldn’t go back with you. I’ve put enough into this Chicago stay that I don’t want to blow it all now.
“Besides, it would just be trading one problem for another. Here, even in the best circumstances, I’m a stranger in exile—but at least nobody knows me and I can get out and around without any questions.
“If I went home with you, it would be marvelous. But I’d be so afraid of meeting someone I know, I’d be a virtual prisoner and I’d go stir crazy or get cabin fever or some such.
“No, I think our original plan was well made. I’ll stick with it. And, while we’re at it, I think it would be best for this to be the last visit till I come home for the delivery. There’s only a couple of months left.”
“Whatever you say,” Oona said.
They sipped their tea in silence for a few minutes.
“Oh!” Maureen exclaimed.
“What? What’s wrong?” Eileen, startled, drew the attention of the few customers still in the restaurant.
Maureen smiled. “Nothing. This iced tea must be getting to the baby. It decided to take a walk and it hasn’t got an awful lot of room in there.”
“Really? Is it moving?” Oona asked. “Can I feel it?”
“Oona!” Eileen said. “We’re out in public. Control yourself
.”
“It’s all right.” Maureen glanced around. “Nobody’s looking now. Go ahead.” She took Oona’s hand and directed it to the spot where tiny feet were romping.
Eileen looked around the restaurant and saw that indeed no one was any longer paying any attention to them. “Do you think …”
“Of course.” Maureen took Eileen’s hand and placed it near Oona’s. Fortunately, the baby was active enough at this moment to entertain both sisters.
Eileen’s eyes were glowing. “Isn’t it marvelous!” she enthused. “That’s our nephew,” she said to Oona.
“Or niece,” Oona countered.
Maureen just smiled at both of her impressed sisters. She released their hands and rubbed her own expanded self. “It’s the one beautiful thing in this whole sorry mess. Whenever things get particularly bleak, I focus on this baby growing and getting stronger inside me. It’s a miracle.”
“It is a miracle.” Eileen grinned.
“I hesitate to mention his name,” Oona said, “but have you ever wondered why Nash didn’t suggest an abortion? As far as he was concerned, that would pretty well have taken care of things.”
Maureen looked into the distance where there was nothing to see. “Yes … yes, I’ve wondered. But he never mentioned it. I thought that when I told him about the baby, he might have been too shocked to be thinking clearly. But if that had been the case, he would’ve called me later. He could’ve done that. But he didn’t. The only thing I can think is that he knew I would never have agreed to it. I guess it wouldn’t have been a big thing for him, but …” She shook her head vigorously. “I could never have agreed to that.”
“I’m not saying that all you just said isn’t true,” Eileen said tentatively, “but there may be another reason.”
Maureen and Oona looked at Eileen inquiringly.
“There was a piece in this morning’s paper …” Eileen said hesitantly, “in the business section …”
“Well, what was it?” Oona asked. “I don’t remember anything special.”
“I cut it out before you got to the paper.”
“You what? I didn’t notice anything missing. But then,” she added, on reflection, “I didn’t look at the business section this morning. But why on earth would you do a thing like that?”
“It would just have upset you,” Eileen explained. “I didn’t want to have you upset when we had our trip to make. I would have shown it to you eventually.”
“Well, what was it?” Maureen asked. “Was it about Charlie?”
Eileen nodded.
“Well, what?” Maureen was becoming exasperated.
“He’s been promoted. He’s now senior vice president of Lowell Development. He’s one step from the presidency of the company.”
Maureen reflected on that for a moment. “It doesn’t surprise me. I knew all along he would succeed. That’s one of the reasons I thought he’d be happy about the baby. There was never any doubt that he’d be able to afford a family.
“So …” She sighed. “He made it. Correction: He’s making it. He’ll go a lot farther than that.
“But …” She looked intently at Eileen. “… what’s that got to do with me?”
“The article in the paper,” Eileen said, “also mentioned his age and a few other things … along with the fact that he’s married.”
“Married!” Oona exclaimed.
“And,” Eileen continued, “he has a son named Theodore.”
Maureen looked as if someone had struck her. “How …” She spoke haltingly. “… how old is the boy?”
“Seven.” Eileen spoke so softly it was difficult to hear her, even though there was little noise in the restaurant. “I hated to tell you this, dear. But you were bound to hear it. And there was no good time. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t believe it …” Maureen spoke as if in a stupor.
“I’m so very sorry, dear. It was in this morning’s paper. I’m sure it’s true.”
“It couldn’t be. It’s impossible. He was with me so much of the time. Not all the time, but … how could he love me so much and then … a wife … and a child … a family?”
“Perhaps it’s a mistake,” Oona said. For Maureen’s sake, she was shocked. And Oona did not shock easily. “God knows the papers make mistakes.”
“I don’t think so,” Eileen said. “Sometimes they get the wrong name under the wrong picture. But not something like this.”
“There was a picture?” Oona said.
“How did Charlie look?” Maureen wore a bemused smile.
“Quite well,” Eileen said. “Handsome, I’d say.”
“Oh, yes, handsome. That was Charlie all right,” Maureen said. “Not pretty, but handsome, in a rugged sort of way. I’ll give him that. Good looking. I’ll give him that and more.”
“He’s a bastard!” Oona said definitively.
“No …” Maureen was in an almost dreamlike state. “That’s what my child will be.”
“Maureen!” Eileen exclaimed.
“It’s all so clear now,” Maureen said. “It wasn’t that Charlie was really all that upset about having our child. That was all for show. And that’s why he never even mentioned an abortion.
“He could easily have afforded two families, with one child from each woman. He certainly was satisfying me and spending as much time with me as I could expect from a man in his position. He wasn’t with me all the time. He said the job required a lot of travel. That made sense. All the while, he was traveling to his wife. He could have kept that up even if we’d had a child. I suppose he was telling the other woman—his wife—that he had to spend a lot of time out of town. I guess she believed him—just like I did.
“No, there was nothing wrong with that situation as far as he was concerned, even with another family. And he didn’t mention an abortion for the simple reason that he didn’t want me to have one. And why not? I can’t believe he has any religious scruples or any kind of qualm about abortion. But, if he’d demanded or even suggested it, and if I’d agreed, he’d have had no reason to break up with me … That’s it, don’t you see?
“It was made to order,” Maureen continued. “It must have seemed to Charlie like a gift from out of the blue. It was time. It was time to get rid of me. Oh, maybe there was no particular hurry. Maybe he saw this big promotion coming. He’d be moving into a different stratum. He’d have his picture in the paper. They always do that with a big promotion in a major corporation. They’d publish his vital statistics, including the fact that he had a family. The item would a pleasant little surprise to his family, of course. But it would be more than a little surprise to me.
“No, it was time to get rid of me. And I handed him the reason for it on a silver platter: I got pregnant.”
Maureen was smiling ironically: She had unwittingly collaborated in the destruction of her own love affair.
“I got pregnant,” Maureen repeated. “It was my fault. It was my fault! Can you imagine? I stopped taking the pill. The fact that I was pregnant was my fault. It was my fault that he had to break up with me. It wasn’t his fault at all. He must have thought he had written the script. How could I have been such an idiot? How could I have been such a fool!”
There followed a long silence.
The waitress approached tentatively. She could sense that the mood of these three women had changed, and that something terribly serious—even tragic—was being discussed.
Did they want anything more? Oona declined, and paid the bill, leaving a generous tip.
Still, none of the three could speak.
“I hope to God you get him,” Oona spat. “I hope you nail him!”
“Oona, dear, that doesn’t sound very Christian,” Eileen responded. But inwardly she agreed with Oona.
“The very least you can do,” Oona said, “is to get him for child support. And, with this promotion, he’ll be able to contribute quite a nice sum, I do believe. That, and it’s about time his wife knew of your existence.
Yessirree, it’s about time Charlie Nash began to pay the piper.”
“No!” Maureen startled her sisters with the vehement tone of finality. “No. Don’t either of you do anything. I’ve got to think this through. Until now, I’ve been seeing all that’s happened to me in one way. Now everything is topsy-turvy. I’m not much older, but a whole lot wiser. I have a premonition that what I do next is going to change my life forever. What I do next is liable to change a lot of lives.”
She looked at them and smiled—a strong, warm, genuine smile. “God love you, dears. I know you are not only my sisters, but you’re the dearest friends I have in the world. Now, I may have to ask you to trust me without knowing everything I’m doing.
“For some strange reason, I feel as if I’ve switched places. From being a helpless passenger, I may be in the driver’s seat now. Just, please, believe in me!”
“We will,” Oona said.
“We do,” Eileen said.
C H A P T E R
17
EVERYTHING SEEMED SO WHITE: the walls, the cabinets, the towels, the fixtures, and, most of all, the ceiling. She had nothing to do but look at the ceiling while hurting all the time and tensing for the next incredibly painful contraction.
Every so often the nurse would come in to take her blood pressure and check for dilation. The nurse was pleasant enough, but she gave the impression of having done this too many times. She seemed untouched by Maureen’s wondrous and frightening new experience.
Back in Chicago, just a couple of days ago, Ethel had tried to prepare Maureen for the delivery that was imminent. The information and advice was helpful and appreciated but nothing could convey this reality.
For one, Ethel had not adequately described the pain. Maybe birthing had been relatively easy for her. Maybe she’d forgotten the special pain of a firstborn. Maybe there just weren’t words to do the job.
For quite some time now, Maureen had been second-guessing the decisions she’d made.
One of those decisions was to enter the hospital on her own. Both Oona and Eileen had argued long and hard against that. They wanted to be with her. But Maureen refused. Her only explanation was that having her sisters—or anyone, for that matter—with her did not fit into her plans.
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