* * *
Marian was on auto pilot.
She finished packing, cleaned the bathroom, mopped floors & vacuumed. She put stamps on the last couple of cancellation letters and went out to make sure the shed was locked, ignoring the mess. She brought the suitcases downstairs and then went back to pack up the ‘charity shop’ bag again. She carried it and the ‘recycling’ bag downstairs. There was only one bag left – labelled ‘throw away’. When she picked it up she felt the pain again. It was the heaviest of all the bags.
She ordered 2 pizzas – the soup was the only food she’d had left. She toyed again with the idea of having a vodka but instead opened the last bottle of wine in the house. Sarah was still asleep but the baby was starting to whimper. After giving her more boiled milk she held her for a while and started to sing to her. She closed her eyes and wished that when she opened them she’d be looking at one of her own girls.
Marian felt the blanket get suddenly warm, then wet. She laughed out loud. “You little monkey! I suppose it’s a good sign though.” She cleaned her up and put a makeshift nappy on her. She felt bad, but knew if she went out & anyone saw her buying nappies they’d probably ring the police.
Laying the baby safely on the sofa she went to the hall. She carried in the bag marked ‘throw away’ and ripped it open.
As children’s clothes spilled out on to the sofa and the floor, so did the tears. Marian picked up each item and smelled it. She tried to find some clothes small enough for the baby but ended up holding every dress and little top close to her face. She found the two matching denim dresses with the girl’s names embroidered on back. Aimee and Sophie. She thought her heart would explode in her chest. She dressed the baby in the smallest little romper suit she could find; and wept.
When the tears finally stopped she carried the baby over to the photo of her daughters; their smiles always made her feel better. As she had done many times before, Marian looked at the faces of her children, told them how she loved them times a million, how sorry she was for her terrible mistake and how much she regretted not fighting harder to keep them.
A World of Possibility Page 4