The Red Thread

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The Red Thread Page 15

by Ann Hood


  Now there came a commotion, rushing footsteps, panicked voices. Above her appeared the mothers and her husband. The mothers looked worried, but her husband only looked confused and sleepy. His hair stuck up funny and his fat stomach peeked out between his pajama bottom and his T-shirt.

  “Chen Chen,” her mother was saying in a rushed but gentle voice. “Daughter, the babies are coming. The pain will pass. Squeeze my hand, Chen Chen.”

  That was when she understood the moans were coming from her. She tried to do some calculations. Her husband had had the flu. He was sick for ten days. Then he had taken her in his accountant-like way, checking off all the body parts, impregnating her. That was in February. There had been frost on the window. It was only September, Chen Chen thought. Too soon.

  “It is autumn,” she managed to say.

  The mothers smiled at each other.

  “The babies are coming. She is making no sense,” they said.

  Just when she thought it could not get worse, everything changed and Chen Chen wanted to move again. To sit. To stand. Her mother’s hand on her shoulders felt like mosquitoes biting her, and Chen Chen swatted it away.

  She said to her husband, who kneeled beside her, “I said I hate you. Remember?”

  He glanced at the mothers, embarrassed. But they only grinned back at him.

  “The babies are coming. Women say crazy things right before,” they told him.

  He nodded at Chen Chen. “I remember.”

  Chen Chen clutched her mother’s arm. “I need something,” she said frantically.

  She tried to get up, but the mothers urged her back to a squat.

  “Push,” her mother whispered. “Push.”

  Chen Chen pushed.

  She pushed forever.

  At one point she said to her husband, “I love you, you know.”

  The mothers laughed at this.

  “Push,” her mother said.

  Her mother-in-law caught the first baby. She grimaced and cut the umbilical cord, slapped its face until it opened its mouth and howled.

  Chen Chen stood, surprising everyone, even herself. “Give him to me,” she said, holding her arms out.

  “This one is a girl,” her mother said. “You are so lucky, daughter. The next one will be a boy and you will have two healthy children.”

  Even in her exhaustion, Chen Chen understood. The law of her province stated that if your first child was a girl, then you could have another. A boy.

  She smiled and took the baby, now swaddled in a clean checked cloth.

  Her husband beamed at Chen Chen and their daughter.

  But before she could say anything, her body took over again.

  “Oh,” she said. “Something is happening.”

  She dropped to her hands and knees and began to crawl, as if she could escape the pains that shook her.

  “Oh,” she said again.

  The mothers gripped her shoulders and forced her to squat again. They urged her to push.

  What if this never ends? Chen Chen thought at one point. As soon as she thought it, she felt the baby leave her.

  Her mother-in-law pushed her mother out of the way and grabbed the baby. Chen Chen saw the disappointment on her face.

  “Here is our bad luck,” her mother-in-law said. She spat on the floor to keep that bad luck away from her. Then she handed the second daughter to Chen Chen’s mother. “Do what you must,” she said.

  The second daughter did not seem quite right, Chen Chen thought later as she held them both in her arms in bed. The first one had a steady gaze, good color in her cheeks, a loud cry. The second daughter was much smaller, her arms and legs like little twigs. She had a swath of dark hair, right down the middle of her head. She hardly cried at all. Rather, she took Chen Chen’s breast when it was offered and sucked in a slow, steady motion.

  Everyone entered the room cautiously, avoiding Chen Chen’s gaze. Until the third day, when her mother came to her and sat beside her on the bed. One baby slept across her lap, the other rested beside her. Her mother brought her aloe for her cracked nipples. And tea for strength.

  “The second one,” her mother said, choosing her words carefully, “is small and slow.”

  Chen Chen said, “She eats steadily. Soon she will catch up.”

  “So quiet!” her mother said. “Babies should be loud and robust. That means they have healthy lungs.”

  Something filled Chen Chen’s throat, forcing her to gulp. “Perhaps she is simply content.”

  “She is not as beautiful as her sister,” her mother said, her gaze steady on Chen Chen’s face. “Do you understand?”

  “I think she is beautiful,” Chen Chen managed to say before the tears came.

  “Your husband’s mother is terrible. I don’t trust what she will do to you. To the baby. I cannot stay any longer to protect you. Your father and your brother and his wife are waiting for me to return. Your brother’s wife is pregnant too, and I need to care for her.”

  Chen Chen continued to cry.

  “The second one is more undesirable, Chen Chen. Of the two of them, she is the one to get rid of.”

  Chen Chen looked at her mother with wild eyes.

  “No! No!” her mother said quickly. “I will take her myself. On the way home, I will stop in Loudi. It is a small city about three hours from here. I will be sure she goes to the right place. A place that will care for her.”

  Beside her, the baby stirred.

  “I have heard,” her mother said, lowering her voice, “that people come from all over, from Spain and America and Holland, and they take these babies home. They give them a good life. Good educations. Perhaps this child will go to a fancy American school. The University of Harvard. Anything is possible. You have one perfect daughter. One inferior daughter. So simple to fix.”

  Chen Chen could not answer. She could not stop crying. Something was happening to her heart, she thought. It was breaking into dozens of pieces, pieces that would go to Loudi, to America, to the University of Harvard.

  She picked up her second daughter and held her close.

  “Mei Mei,” she whispered.

  It was the name she would always call her, even long after the baby was taken from her arms.

  Mei Mei. Little sister.

  WAITING

  DEEP DOUBTS, DEEP WISDOM;

  SMALL DOUBTS, LITTLE WISDOM.

  10

  MAYA

  The winding roads that snaked beside farms and the ocean in Westport, Massachusetts, had no signs that Maya could find. Her GPS had lost its satellite reception, and Emily couldn’t find their location on the map she had unfolded in her lap.

  “Let’s forget the Referral Waiting lunch and just find a restaurant somewhere,” Emily grumbled.

  “Good idea,” Maya said. “I’m sure there’s lots of restaurants around here.”

  Emily sighed. “I love being the only married person coming to this alone.”

  “I know,” Maya said. “But I am a very good date.”

  In the distance, Maya spotted a sliver of blue ocean ahead of them.

  “I’m pointing the car toward that,” she said. “Brooke told me the house was right on the beach.”

  It was mid-October, and Westport, like the rest of southern New England, was in the full throes of autumn. The leaves had all turned to orange and yellow and red. Rolling farmland was dotted with neat bales of hay and pumpkin patches full of pumpkins still clinging to green vines.

  “Pretty out here,” Maya said.

  “Why would a famous baseball player live out the middle of nowhere?” Emily said, unwilling to change her bad mood.

  “Shit,” Maya said as she drove around a hairpin turn and lost sight of the ocean.

  “No GPS. No cell phone signal. It’s not even on the map,” Emily said. “Maybe we’re in one of those towns like in The Twilight Zone? And there’s no way out once we enter.”

  The ocean appeared again, suddenly close. At the corner, right before she would hav
e to drive directly into the water, Maya saw a street sign.

  “Atlantic Avenue,” she read. “Hallelujah.”

  “Tell me again that it’s perfectly appropriate for Michael to be at Chloe’s school production of Oliver! in which she has only an ensemble part, one line in the song ‘Who Will Buy?’ instead of being here with me to get to better know the very people who are going to travel halfway around the world with us to finally get our baby,” Emily said in one long breath.

  “You will see these people plenty of times before you are on that plane to China,” Maya said. “Chloe only gets to be in her school production of Oliver! today.”

  “Couldn’t she have just called him up this morning, sung ‘Ripe strawberries, ripe!’ and let him come with me where I believe he belongs?”

  Three small weathered bungalows stood in a line, just as Brooke had described. Behind the houses, rolling lawns and a tangle of cat-o’-nine-tails and beach roses. As Maya neared, she saw the well-beaten path to the beach through that tangle. Beyond, rocks and beach and the Atlantic Ocean. She could see why Charlie—why anyone—would live way out here. But Emily was in no mood to hear that.

  “Hypothetically,” Emily said, “I need minor surgery and Chloe has one line in The Music Man. Does he take me to the hospital?”

  “Emily,” Maya said, shaking her head.

  “Our baby has one line in her preschool play and Chloe has a lacrosse game—”

  “I’m not doing this,” Maya said. “We are at the party and we’re going to have fun.”

  “I’m being ridiculous?” Emily said.

  “No,” Maya said. She touched her friend’s hand. “But let’s just do this for now and worry about all the hypothetical stuff later.”

  “Every girl needs a practical friend,” Emily said. “Someone with her head on straight. Does anything ever ruffle your feathers?”

  Maya reached in the backseat for the pumpkin pie she’d made.

  “Nothing does, right?” Emily said. She peered at Maya closely.

  “You have no idea,” Maya said.

  The two women got out of the car and made their way across the grass to the front door.

  “Let me guess whose car that one is,” Emily whispered as they passed a shiny silver Mercedes.

  “Well, he’s related to John Adams,” Maya told her.

  “John Adams drove a Mercedes like that?” Emily said.

  “You are going to behave,” Maya said. “We are going to get our babies with these people and you want them to think you’re nice, don’t you?”

  “Are you coming?” Emily said, surprised. “When we go to China?”

  “Shhhh,” Maya said.

  The door had opened and Brooke was coming toward them.

  “What a gorgeous place,” Emily said to her.

  “Perfect for kids, isn’t it?” Brooke said, taking the pie from Maya and leading them inside.

  The first thing Maya noticed, after the jaw-dropping view, was that Sophie, who was usually so open and smiley, looked pale and serious. She stood by the picture window that showed off that view, her arms folded across her chest. Maya thought she might have lost weight too. Her dress, a loose Indian print thing, seemed to swim on her. The husband, Theo, didn’t appear to be here.

  “Sophie is solo too,” Maya whispered to Emily. “See? It’s not so strange.”

  After greeting everyone, Maya walked over to Sophie.

  “Is Theo here?” she asked.

  Sophie shook her head, but didn’t offer an explanation.

  “How are you?” Maya said.

  Sophie gave a small smile. “Okay. I’ve been feeling out of sorts lately. Nothing serious.”

  “You know,” Maya said, “the waiting can get to people. Is Theo having a hard time with it?”

  Sophie’s eyes filled with tears. “We’re having a hard time. With everything.”

  “I can’t even begin to tell you how many calls I get from frustrated or anxious couples who are waiting for their referrals. But before you know it, I’ll be calling you to say that you have a baby.”

  “I just hope we’ll be ready when that happens.”

  “Sophie,” Maya said, touching her arm, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “It’s not you,” Sophie said, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands. “Everything upsets me these days.”

  “A lot of people have second thoughts,” Maya said gently. “You and Theo have such great plans for a family. Is he backpedaling a bit?”

  Sophie laughed. “Well, you could say that there are some second thoughts in our household.”

  Nell sidled up to them. Even in simple black pants and a white button-down shirt, with black ballet flats and a red headband, she managed to look sophisticated, glamorous.

  “You didn’t answer my last email,” Nell said.

  “That’s because I’ve already told you that your DTC group has a long way to go still.” Maya turned to include Sophie in the conversation. “We just placed nineteen babies in the December 9 DTC group.”

  “It’s like waiting to give birth,” Sophie said. “You have to wait then too.”

  Nell lowered her voice. “Benjamin wants to go to Sardinia in June to race. But what if he’s over there and we get our referral?”

  “Please don’t put your life on hold,” Maya said.

  She saw Benjamin standing with Charlie. Charlie was telling a story, his hands moving wildly, Benjamin’s eyes gleaming with interest.

  “Baseball tales,” Brooke said. She held a tray of hors d’oeuvres out for them.

  Sophie looked at the food, the dates wrapped in bacon and the little triangles of spinach and feta. “No thanks,” she said, turning away.

  “I just want something concrete,” Nell said. “To work with.”

  “That’s not how this goes,” Maya told her. She tried to keep her voice calm, but she heard the edge creep into it. “We just have to wait.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Nell said. “But this baby is everything to me. Everything.”

  Out the window stretched a rolling lawn, beach grass, ocean. Maya took in the view to steady herself. Carter was out there with a little girl, playing catch. The girl was awkward, throwing too short or missing the ball when it came to her. So this was Clara, Maya thought. She remembered how embarrassed Susannah got whenever she mentioned her daughter.

  “I just want a target date. Winter? Spring?” Nell continued.

  “Tell your husband to go to Sardinia,” Maya said, and she walked away.

  Before she could get to the table where Brooke had laid out a buffet, Susannah cornered her.

  “I need to ask you something,” Susannah said. “It’s important.”

  “Of course,” Maya said.

  But Susannah didn’t say anything. Instead, her gaze settled outside where Carter and Clara were playing.

  “I’m glad you brought your daughter today,” Maya said gently.

  Still watching them, Susannah said, “Would a pregnancy stop the adoption? I mean, is there a rule about that?”

  Maya put her hand on Susannah’s arm. “Are you pregnant?”

  “I don’t know yet. Maybe. Probably. I’ve been afraid to take the test.” Now she looked at Maya and Maya saw that she was crying. “I want that little girl in China who’s waiting for me. I want her so bad that it hurts.”

  “If you’re pregnant, that doesn’t change anything. We don’t even know yet when travel will be. You might already have the new baby by then.”

  Susannah nodded.

  “Some families decide not to go ahead with the adoption if—”

  “No!” Susannah said. “I want that baby desperately.”

  “Then you will have her,” Maya said.

  Susannah’s eyes settled again on her husband and daughter. It wasn’t Maya’s place to point out prenatal testing, the options around genetic issues.

  “Come,” Maya said. “Let’s get some food. If you are pregnant, you need to
eat.”

  “Right,” Susannah said without conviction.

  As they made their way to the table, Maya realized that Sophie had been standing nearby, listening. For some reason, it felt like she’d been eavesdropping on them. Silly to think that, Maya knew. But why hadn’t Sophie just joined their conversation? Maybe she saw that Susannah was upset and wanted to stay out of it. Still.

  Maya watched Susannah place slices of ham on her plate, spoon some potato salad and green bean casserole. It was the kind made with cream of mushroom soup and those canned fried onions. Sophie took just the casserole, a huge pile of it. They talked briefly, and Susannah suddenly looked relieved. Her face softened and she nodded emphatically before the two women went to sit together in two chairs in the corner. Maybe Sophie was helping her after all.

  When Maya began to fill her own plate—ham, potato salad, sweet potatoes with little marshmallows on top, no thank you to that casserole—Carter and Clara came in.

  “You’re a good catcher,” Maya said to the girl.

  Clara grinned up at her. “I play baseball!” she said.

  “You know a famous baseball player lives right in this house?” Maya told her.

  “Oh!” Clara said. Suddenly she reached onto Maya’s plate and grabbed the marshmallows off the sweet potatoes.

  “No, Clara,” Carter said. “You can’t touch other people’s food.”

  Then he said to Maya, “I’m sorry. We’re working on her impulse control.”

  “It’s okay. I didn’t want them anyway.”

  “See?” Clara said. Her eyes shone behind her pale blue glasses. “She wants me to eat her marshmallows.”

  “Remember, sweetie?” Carter said. “You don’t talk with food in your mouth.” He smiled at Maya.

  He handed Clara a plate of food and led her to a seat.

  “You’re good with her,” Maya told him when he came back for his own lunch.

  “I love her,” Carter said matter-of-factly. “Susannah has had a hard time, though.”

  He took a breath, exhaled. “We could definitely have another baby with it,” he said. “That’s why we decided to adopt. Susannah has been adamant about not having any more children ourselves.”

  Puzzled, Maya tried to think of a response. Carter spotted Susannah and Sophie across the room.

 

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