“Don't meddle in their affairs”
“They're not 'their' affairs, they're hers. Those people have left her to solve her own problems at a time when she really needs them. They've left her completely to her own devices. As I see it, they've lost their right to dictate the terms, based on their failure to support her.”
“They may not see it that way.” He smiled, sometimes he loved the way she got involved, and cared so much about everything, and sometimes she drove him crazy. She hadn't cared about anything in a long time, and he was glad in a way that Maribeth had sparked that in her again. She had sparked a lot of things, in all of them. In some ways, he felt fatherly toward her. “Let me know what you decide,” he said, smiling again as she turned off the light.
“Will you come with me if I go to see them?” she asked bluntly. “I want to see them for myself before she goes back there,” Liz said, feeling unusually maternal toward Maribeth. Maybe one day, she might even be her daughter-in-law, but whether she was or not, she was not going to just abandon her to unfeeling parents.
“Actually, I'd like that.” He grinned at her in the dark. “I think I'd enjoy watching you give him a piece of your mind.” He chuckled and she laughed. “Just let me know when you want to go,” he said quietly, and she nodded.
I'll call them tomorrow,” she said thoughtfully, and then she turned on her side and looked at her husband. “Thanks, John.” They were friends again, nothing more. But that was at least something.
Chapter Nine
With much regret, Maribeth gave them notice at the restaurant the Monday after Thanksgiving. She and Liz had talked about it again, and she had agreed that she needed time to prepare properly for her exams, and the baby was due right after Christmas. She was going to leave work on the fifteenth, and the Whittakers wanted her to come and stay with them from then until the baby was born. Liz said she shouldn't be alone, in case something happened. And they assured her that they really wanted her with them.
She was overwhelmed by the kindness they had offered her, and she liked the idea of staying with them. She was getting nervous about the delivery now, and staying with them meant she could do more work with Liz, and maybe even get more credits toward school. Not to mention being closer to Tommy. It seemed like an ideal arrangement, and Liz had convinced John that having her there until the baby came was something special they could do for Tommy.
“And she'll need someone to be with her afterwards,” Liz explained. “It'll be awfully hard for her with the baby gone.” She knew how much pain that would cause her. Having lost her child, she understood only too well what it would cost Maribeth to give up her baby. The agony would be intense, and Liz wanted to be there for her. Without thinking about it, she had come to love the girl, and the bond between them had grown as they worked together. Maribeth had a remarkable mind, and she was tireless in her efforts to improve it. It was something she wanted desperately. It was her only hope for a future.
Everyone at the restaurant was sad that she was moving on. But they understood. She said that she was going back to her family to have the baby but she had never told anyone that she'd never actually been married, or that she wasn't planning to keep the baby. And on her last day there, Julie gave a little shower for her, and everyone brought her little gifts for the baby. There were little booties and a sweater set one of the girls had knitted for her, a pink and blue blanket with little ducks on it, a teddy bear, some toys, a box of diapers from one of the busboys, and Jimmy had bought her a high chair.
And as she looked at all the little things they'd given her, Maribeth was overwhelmed with emotion. The sheer kindness of it tore at her heart, but even more than that the realization that she'd never see her child use any of it brought home to her for the first time what it really meant to give up the baby. The baby was suddenly real to her as it had never been before. It had clothes and socks and hats and diapers and a teddy bear and a high chair. What it didn't have was a daddy and a mommy, and when she got back to her room that afternoon, she called Dr. MacLean and asked what progress he'd made in locating adoptive parents for the baby.
“I've had three couples in mind,” he said cautiously, “but I'm not sure one of them is the right one.” The father had admitted that he had a drinking problem and Avery MacLean was loath to give them a baby. “The second ones just found out that they got pregnant on their own. And the third family may not want to adopt. I haven't talked to them yet. We still have some time.”
“Two weeks, Dr. MacLean …two weeks …” She didn't want to bring the baby home, and then give it away. That would be torture. And she knew she couldn't go home to the Whittakers with a baby. That would be too much of an imposition.
“We'll find someone, Maribeth. I promise. And if not, you can leave the baby at the hospital for a couple of weeks. We'll find the right couple. We don't want to make a mistake, do we?” She agreed with him but the high chair in the corner of her room suddenly seemed ominous. They had all made her promise to call and tell them what sex the baby was, and she had said she would. And knowing that she had lied to all of them made it all the harder to say goodbye, especially to Julie.
“You take care of yourself, you hear!” Julie had admonished her. “I still think you ought to marry Tommy.” Maybe she would after the baby came, they all said after she left. And Dr. MacLean was still wondering the same thing when they hung up. He didn't want to help her give the baby up, only to find that she and Tommy would regret it later. He had thought of discussing it with Liz, to see what she thought about it, if they were really serious about giving the baby up, but he wasn't sure how the young couple would feel about his talking to Tommy's parents. It was a sensitive situation. But he could sense Maribeth's urgency now. It was clear that she wanted some resolution, and he promised her, and himself, that he'd launch a serious search for adoptive parents.
The day after she left the restaurant, Tommy helped her move all her things into Annie's room. She put the baby's things that they'd given her in boxes in the garage, and said she'd send them to the hospital for the adoptive parents. It still made her feel choked up to look at them. It made it all seem much too real.
On Saturday morning, Liz explained that she and John had to go out of town until the next day. He needed to look at some produce markets across the state line, and they wouldn't be back until Sunday. She was faintly uncomfortable about leaving them alone, but she and John had discussed it at length and knew they could be trusted.
Tommy and Maribeth were grateful for the time alone, and had every intention of behaving themselves, and not letting his parents down. And as pregnant as Maribeth was, there were no serious temptations.
On Saturday afternoon, they went Christmas shopping. She bought his mother a small cameo pin, it was expensive for her, but she thought it was very beautiful and looked like something she'd wear, and she bought his father a special pipe for bad weather. And as they wandered through the stores, she looked at some baby things, but she always forced herself to put them back and not to buy them.
“Why don't you buy it something from you? Like a teddy bear, or a little locket or something?” He wondered if doing that might get it out of her system, and it would be something she could send with it to its new life and new parents, but her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. She didn't want any trace of herself on the child. She might be tempted to look for it then, or look searchingly at every child she saw wearing a locket.
“I have to let go, Tommy. Completely. I can't hold on to it.” A little sob caught in her throat as she said it.
“Some things you can't let go of,” he said, looking at her meaningfully, and she nodded. She didn't want to let go of him, or the baby, but sometimes life made you give up what you loved most. Sometimes there were no compromises or bargains. He knew that too. But he had already lost more than he ever wanted to. And he was not willing to give Maribeth up, or her baby.
They went home with their packages, and she cooked dinner for hi
m. His parents weren't due back till the following afternoon. And it was like being married, fussing over him, and cleaning up the dishes afterwards, and then sitting down to watch television. They watched Your Show of Shows, followed by Hit Parade. And as they sat there side by side like young newlyweds, Maribeth looked over at him and giggled, and he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.
“I feel like I'm already married to you,” he said, loving it, and feeling the baby kick as he held her and rubbed her stomach. They were surprisingly intimate, considering that they had never made love. But it was hard to remember sometimes that they hadn't. She could feel him springing to life then as she sat on his lap, and she kissed him and felt him grow harder. He was after all only sixteen, and almost everything she did made him horny.
“I don't think you're supposed to get excited over four-hundred-pound girls,” she teased, and then got up and walked across the room, rubbing her back, which was achy. They had walked a lot that afternoon, and lately the baby seemed to be a lot lower. There was no doubt that it was going to be born soon, or that it was going to be a very big baby. She was a tall girl, but her hips were narrow, and she had always been thin. Maribeth was beginning to panic every time she thought about giving birth to a baby.
She admitted it to him that night, and he felt sorry for her. He just hoped it wouldn't be as bad as they both feared.
“You probably won't even feel it,” he said, handing her a dish of ice cream, which they shared with two spoons.
“I hope not,” she agreed, trying to forget her fears. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”
“Why don't we get the tree, and decorate it before Mom and Dad come home? It might be a nice surprise for them.” She liked the idea, she liked doing things for them, and being part of their family. And that night when she went to bed in Annie's room, Tommy sat next to her for a long time, and then lay beside her on the narrow bed that had been Annie's. “We could sleep in my parents' room, you know. We'd have enough room and they'd never know it.” But they had promised they'd be good, and Maribeth wanted to hold him to it.
“Yes, they would,” she said firmly. “Parents know everything.”
“That's what my mom thinks,” he grinned. “Come on, Maribeth. We won't get another chance. They go away about once every five years.”
“I don't think your mom would want us sleeping in her bed,” she said primly.
Okay, then sleep in mine. It's bigger than this,” he complained, rolling toward the floor for the tenth time, while she giggled. They didn't have to sleep together at all, but they both wanted to. It was so cozy being together.
“All right.” She followed him into his room, and they snuggled up in his bed, in her nightgown and his pajamas, with their arms around each other, giggling and talking, like two kids, and then he kissed her, long and slow and hard, and they both got aroused, but two weeks before her baby was due, there was very little they could do about it. He kissed her breasts and she moaned, and she fondled him, and he was so hard and stiff that he was actually in pain as she held him. And she kept reminding herself that what they were doing was wrong, except that they didn't really think so. It didn't feel wrong to be with him, it felt like the only place she ever wanted to be, for the rest of time, and as she lay there with him, feeling her belly between them, she wondered for the first time if one day they would really be together.
“This is how I want it to be,” he said, as he held her in his arms, and they both started to get sleepy. They had stayed aroused for as long as they could stand, and had finally agreed that they had to calm down and stop playing. All their antics had even started to give her contractions. “I just want to be with you for the rest of my life,” he said sleepily, “and one day the baby in your belly will be ours, Maribeth …that's what I want …”
“So do I …” She meant it but she wanted other things too, just as his mother had, before she married his father.
“I can wait for you. My dad waited for my mom. Not too long though,” he said, thinking of how good it felt when she held him. “Like a year or two,” he grinned at her, and then kissed her. “We could get married and go to college together.”
“And live on what?”
“We could live here,” he said. “We could go to college right here and live with my parents.” But she didn't like that idea, no matter how much she loved his parents.
“When we get married, if we do,” she said sternly as she yawned, “I want us to be grown-ups, to take care of our own responsibilities, our own kids, however old we have to be to do it.”
“Yeah, like maybe sixty,” he said, yawning too, as he grinned at her and then kissed her. “I just want you to know, I'm going to many you one day, Maribeth Robertson. Get used to it. That's all there is to it.”
She didn't object, she only smiled, as she lay in his arms, and drifted off to sleep, thinking of Annie, and Tommy, and her baby.
Chapter Ten
They got up early the next day and went to buy the tree, and Tommy bought a little, smaller tree too, a tiny one, that he put in the truck with the big one. He got the decorations out when they got home, and they spent most of the afternoon putting them on the tree. Some of them brought tears to his eyes when he looked at them, mostly the ones that his mother had made with Annie.
“Do you think we should leave them put away?” Maribeth said thoughtfully, and they debated. Seeing them might really upset his mom, but knowing they weren't there would make everyone sad too. There was no easy solution. In the end, they decided to put them up anyway, because leaving them put away would be like denying Annie. She had been there with them, they all shared memories of her. It was better to acknowledge them than to try to pretend they had never existed. And by three o'clock they both agreed that the tree looked good, and it was finished.
She had made him tuna sandwiches for lunch, and as they put the rest of the decorations away, Tommy kept a small box out, and he looked up at Maribeth strangely.
“Is something wrong?”
He shook his head. She could see he was thinking about something. “No. I've got to go somewhere. Want to come, or are you too tired?”
I'm okay. What is it?”
“You'll see.” He got out their coats, and it was starting to snow as they went out to his truck, and he took the small box of decorations. The tiny tree was still in the back of the truck, and he put the box in beside it. She wasn't sure what he was doing at first, but as soon as they got there, she knew what he had come to do. They were at the cemetery, and he had wanted to bring a little tree to Annie.
He took the tree out of the back of the truck, and she carried the box of decorations. They were the smallest ones, the ones Annie had loved, with little teddy bears, and toy soldiers blowing horns, and tiny angels. There was a string of beads, and a length of silver tinsel. And solemnly, he stood the tree on the ground next to her, in a little wooden stand, and one by one they took turns putting on the decorations. It was a heart-wrenching ritual and it only took a few minutes to complete it, and they stood looking at it, as he remembered how much she had loved Christmas. Annie had loved everything about it. He had told Maribeth about it before, but this time he couldn't say anything. He just stood there, with tears rolling down his cheeks, remembering how much he had loved her, and how much it hurt when he lost her.
He looked up at Maribeth then, from across the tree, her huge belly swathed in her coat, her eyes so gentle, her bright hair peeking out of the wool scarf she wore. He had never loved her more than at this moment.
“Maribeth,” he said softly, knowing that Annie would approve of what he was doing. It was right to do it here. She would have wanted to be part of his life, and his future. “Marry me …please … I love you …”
“I love you too,” she said, coming closer to him, and taking his hand in her own as she looked at him, “but I can't …not now …don't ask me to do that …”
“I don't want to lose you …” He looked down at the small grave where his s
ister lay, just beneath them, next to the Christmas tree they had brought for her, “I lost her … I don't want to lose you …please, let's get married.”
“Not yet,” she said softly, wanting to give him everything, yet afraid to hurt him if she failed him. She was wiser than her years, and in some ways, wiser than he was.
“Will you promise to many me later?”
“I promise you solemnly on this day, Thomas Whittaker, that I will love you forever.” And she meant every word as she said it. She knew she would never forget what he had been to her ever since the first moment she'd met him. But what that meant, where their lives would lead, no one could promise that, or know now. She wanted to be part of his life forever, but who knew where life would take them?
“Will you promise to marry me?”
“If it's right, if it's what we both want.” She was always honest.
“I'll always be there for you,” he said solemnly, and she knew he meant it.
“And I for you. I'll always be your friend, Tommy …I'll always love you.” And if they were lucky, she would be his wife one day. She wanted that too, now, at sixteen, but she was wise enough to know that one day things might be different. Or maybe not, perhaps their love would grow in time, and one day be stronger than ever. Or perhaps like leaves, life's winds would blow them to the far corners of the earth and scatter them forever, but she hoped not.
“Ill be ready to many you, whenever you want,” he affirmed.
“Thank you,” she said, and reached up to kiss him. He kissed her, wishing she would promise him everything, but satisfied that she had given him what she could at the moment.
They stood silently, looking at the small Christmas tree then, and thinking about his sister. “I think she loves you too' he said quietly. “I wish she could be here and then he tucked Maribeth's hand into his arm, and led her back to the truck. It had grown colder since they had first come out, and they were both very quiet on the drive back to his house. There was something very peaceful between them now, something very strong and very clean, and very honest. And they both knew that they might be together one day, or they might not. They would try, they would be there for each other for as long as they could. At sixteen, that was a lot, more than some people had after a lifetime. They had hope, and promise, and dreams. It was a good way to start out. It was a gift they had given each other.
The Gift Page 17