A Mother's Choice

by Kristin Noel Fischer

  Maybe then we could find a way to turn this disappointing situation into something positive. Something that would keep me in touch with my grandchild and allow Ruby to expand her family.

  Chapter 20

  It didn’t take a genius to make the connection between Angela’s due date and my birthday. She’d been my biological mother. I should’ve figured it out years ago. Angela giving birth to me at age eighteen made so much more sense than my mom having me at forty-one.

  But why had everyone kept the secret? Why had my mother—or rather my grandmother—decided to raise me as her own without ever telling me the truth? And why hadn’t Eleanor or my brothers said anything?

  An inconsistency gnawed at me, and I scanned Angela’s medical records for more information. I don’t know what I expected to find—a picture, maybe? A letter? Adoption papers?

  I had a copy of my birth certificate, of course. It listed Nadine Rose Kingsley as my mother and Jude Francis Kingsley as my father, but maybe there was another document. An original birth certificate that listed Angela as my mother.

  Instead of going to bed like I needed to, I continued digging through the contents of the box, hoping to find something that would answer my questions. Had Angela delivered me before the accident?

  Maybe she hadn’t died on impact and had lived long enough to give birth to me. Or maybe an emergency team had saved me moments after her death. Was it possible for a baby to survive in the womb after a deadly car accident?

  The idea of being torn from my dead mother’s belly deeply disturbed me. If I confronted Eleanor and my brothers, would they tell me the truth?

  And then it hit me.

  Ruby.

  If anyone would know about the circumstances surrounding my birth, it would be my mom’s best friend. Would I be able to find her, and if I did, would she tell me the truth?

  “Autumn?”

  I screamed in reaction to Kyle saying my name as he came into the kitchen, wearing only his pajama bottoms.

  He rolled his eyes with amusement, and I buried my face in my hands. “You freaked me out!”

  “So I noticed. What are you doing up so late? Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

  Standing, I shoved everything back in the box before changing my mind and retrieving Angela’s medical records. “I found something, and you’re not going to believe it.”

  He gave a lighthearted sigh. “Okay, Nancy Drew. Let’s have a look.”

  *

  My husband woke me in the morning with a kiss and a strong cup of coffee. “I’ve got to go, but I made eggs for breakfast and woke up Logan for school.”

  “Thanks,” I said, sitting up in bed and taking the coffee from him.

  “Are you going to talk to Eleanor and your brothers about Angela?”

  I took a sip of my coffee, noting that coffee made by someone else always tasted so much better. “I don’t know. It will depend on how my mom’s doing today. I’ll call Eleanor, but if everything is the same, I’ll go to work and stop by the hospital in the afternoon.”

  Kyle frowned. “She’s the same. Stable but critical. I called this morning.”

  “Thanks.”

  He nodded and kissed me good-bye. After he left, I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled through the morning routine of getting everyone ready. I dropped Zane off at Darlene’s, then took Logan to school, and drove across the street to Sunshine Speech Therapy.

  Suzanne, my boss and dear friend from college, gave me a huge hug. She was a short, stocky woman with shoulder-length curly blonde hair, and she reminded me of one of Aubrey’s American Girl dolls. Sturdy and loving.

  “Honey, are you sure you want to be here today?” she asked. “We can manage if you need to take a few days off.” We’d spoken earlier on the phone, and she’d told me the same thing.

  “Thank you, but I want to be here. I need to be here. It’s Owen’s last day.”

  Suzanne brightened. Owen was a five-year-old who barely spoke when I first started working with him. Now his parents said they couldn’t get him to stop talking. Next fall, he would enter a normal kindergarten class and continue therapy through the school district.

  Suzanne closed a client’s file. “Last year, when my mother was going through chemo, work was an escape for me. I’d get lost in the kids and their progress, and for at least a few moments, I’d forget about my own problems. So I understand your need to be here today, but don’t try to do it all. If you need time off, just ask.”

  “Thank you. I will.”

  After work, I took the boys to the hospital. Zane held onto my hand tightly as we entered my mom’s room, but Logan walked right up to the bed and studied my mother carefully. He examined all the machines and tubes, and he even squatted to look under her bed as if expecting to find something important.

  Standing back up, he clapped his hands, making a solid boom that echoed across the cold tile floor. “Okay, Grandma, it’s time to wake up. Come on, get up!”

  I didn’t know whether to be amused or stunned by the forcefulness in his voice. I’d tried explaining the word coma to him last night, but it was beyond his comprehension.

  “Grandma can’t wake up,” I said, giving Zane’s hand an I-love-you squeeze. I noticed his other hand had turned white from clenching his dinosaur egg so tightly.

  Logan narrowed his eyes. “Why can’t she wake up?”

  “Because she’s in a coma. Remember, we talked about this?”

  “What about a bucket of ice water?” he asked, completely serious. “Has anyone tried dumping a bucket of ice water on her?”

  Trying not to smile, I launched into another explanation of my mother’s medical condition, but Logan shook his head as if this were no excuse. I tried to reassure him—and myself—that even though Grandma was sleeping, she could still hear us. We needed to tell her we loved her and couldn’t wait for her to get better.

  “So she can hear us talking to her, but she can’t feel a bucket of ice water?” Zane asked.

  “Exactly.”

  Logan blew out a big breath that lifted his bangs. “Well, how long is this going to take? When is she going to wake up?”

  “I’m not sure.” I stared at the woman who’d raised me. The woman I’d always believed was my mother. Why didn’t you tell me Angela gave birth to me?

  Zane placed a hand on my leg. “Mom, can we go now?”

  I gave him a weary smile. I’d wanted to spend at least an hour here, but neither boy was interested in staying, and honestly, I was restless, too. We stayed a few more minutes, then left.

  In the hall, we ran into Eleanor, who looked quite the professional with her starched white lab coat and stethoscope. I wanted to ask her about Angela but knew this wasn’t the right time. “How is Mom? Medically speaking?”

  “The same. She’s stable but not improving.” Eleanor glanced at the boys who were tiptoeing across the tiles, trying not to step on any cracks. “The doctor wants to talk to us. We need to make some decisions.”

  Nausea swished through my stomach. “What kind of decisions?”

  Eleanor’s expression was compassionate, and for the first time, she looked tired. Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. “Decisions about Mother’s health care and how long to keep her on life support if her situation doesn’t change.”

  I squeezed my eyes tight, just wanting to curl up in a little ball on my mother’s bed and be a child again.

  *

  Kyle worked late that night, so I was sound asleep by the time he crawled into bed and scooted next to me. He’d taken a shower and smelled like soap and shampoo. “Hey.”

  I placed my hand on his arm and pressed it against my chest. “Hey, yourself.”

  We fell asleep in each other’s arms without another word. That night, I had wild dreams about my sister Angela being pregnant with me. Would I ever think of her as anything else but my sister? In my dream, she flew through the air on an electric guitar with Elvis, my father, and an olive-skinned little boy I didn’t
recognize.

  The next day, I drove to Dan and Darlene’s house. Zane gave me a quick hug good-bye, then ran across the living room and joined the other kids in the kitchen where they were rolling clay snakes.

  “Did you sleep okay last night?” Darlene asked. “You look tired.”

  I shrugged. Despite my crazy dream, I’d slept hard last night, but honestly, I was exhausted and in the middle of a pity party.

  My mother was in the hospital, and I’d just found out my entire life was a lie. My marriage was the only thing going well, but that was just because Kyle hadn’t brought up the issue of his fellowship.

  Pulling my jacket tighter, I stared at my sister-in-law. “Did you know Angela was pregnant?”

  Darlene’s face went blank. “Angela? Angela who?”

  “My sister … my …” I stopped, unable to say birth mother.

  “Oh. Yes. Dan told me.”

  I shook my head, feeling sorry for myself. Being deceived by so many people—by my family—stung.

  “What’s going on?” Darlene asked. “Why are you so upset about this?”

  I started to speak, but we were interrupted when one of her daycare kids chucked a plastic cookie cutter at another child, hitting him in the face. Darlene raced across the living room as both the victim and perpetrator burst into tears.

  “I better get going,” I said, knowing she’d be occupied for awhile.

  “All right. Sorry. We’ll talk tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  As Logan and I drove to school, he studied one of his favorite books on the solar system. His space phase had come after his dinosaur obsession but before his current interest in mechanics. I was surprised he’d chosen this old book instead of a new one.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, watching him in the backseat through the rearview mirror.

  He closed the book and gazed out the window. “Did you know most people think Mercury is the hottest planet in the solar system since it’s closest to the sun?”

  Even though I’d read the solar system book aloud about fifty times and could probably get my PhD in astronomy without even trying, I pretended to be fascinated by this piece of information. “Really?”

  “Yep.” He traced a figure eight on the window with his finger. “Do you know why it’s not Mercury?”

  I pulled into the carpool line at school and followed the other cars. “Because Mercury doesn’t have an atmosphere?”

  “Yep, you got it!” he trilled, using the exact intonation my mother used whenever one of her grandchildren did something extraordinary.

  He climbed out of the car, and I told him to have a nice day. Before driving off, I reached into the back seat and grabbed his book. Opening the cover, I read the inscription. “For Logan, a very smart boy on his fourth birthday, Love Grandma.”

  Some uptight mother behind me honked her horn. I tossed the book on the back seat and gave a wave of apology I didn’t really mean. Then, blinking back tears, I drove to work.

  Parking next to the Sunshine Speech Therapy sign, I kept the engine running and stared across the street at the elementary school. Yesterday, working had been helpful, but my heart wasn’t in it today. I was worried about my mother and confused whether or not to talk to Eleanor and my brothers about Angela.

  A knock at the passenger side window startled me. Without waiting for an invitation, Suzanne opened the door and slipped inside. “You okay?”

  I sighed and turned off the engine. “Well, I can’t exactly afford the luxury of falling apart, so yes. Despite everything, I’m keeping it together.”

  “Why don’t you take the day off,” she suggested.

  As tempting as it sounded, I didn’t want to leave her in a bind. “I’ll be okay.”

  She was quiet for a moment then spoke softly. “I never regretted the time I spent with my mom. Even at the end when she was out of it and didn’t know who I was.”

  Her words knocked the wind out of me. Perhaps I was avoiding taking time off to spend at the hospital because I didn’t want to face the devastating fact that my mother’s future didn’t look good.

  “Don’t take that as an omen,” Suzanne said, squeezing my arm. “I honestly believe your mother is going to pull through. Let’s face it, she’s in better shape than both of us.”

  “Thanks. It’s just … things are bad. Eleanor said we need to discuss some issues … and I don’t want to do that.” My voice cracked on the last word.

  Tears filled her eyes. “Those decisions are tough, especially when all of a sudden you’re the parent.”

  I nodded, afraid I’d break down if I spoke.

  “Look, I have a light client load today, and I can easily reschedule some of the others. Take the day off. Go to the hospital and see your mother. Take Kyle out to lunch—”

  “He’s working in Austin this month.”

  “Okay … catch up on your laundry or get a massage. Do something for yourself.”

  “I wish I could, but—”

  “You can. I’m the boss. Now, do as I say before I fire you.”

  I smiled sadly. “What if I need to take more time off … later?”

  “Then we’ll figure it out. But go.” Suzanne opened the door, signaling the issue was settled. “I’ll see you next week.”

  “What about tomorrow?”

  “I’m giving you that day off as well.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  As I drove away, I turned on the radio, pleased to hear an old Taylor Swift song that immediately put me in a better mood. Kyle often made fun of the blonde superstar, but I’d caught him singing along to her songs on more than one occasion.

  The farther down the road I traveled, the better I felt. When I reached the exit for the hospital, however, I couldn’t do it. Not yet, so I continued down the highway to the shopping center.

  In Target, I wheeled my cart up and down each aisle, tossing in random items—pull-ups for Zane, dish soap, paper plates, new pajamas for Logan, and toilet paper. Instead of feeling elated by my shopping trip, a sense of futility settled over me. What was I going to do next? Go to the hospital for the rest of the day and watch my mom lay in her comatose state?

  Suzanne had suggested having lunch with Kyle. He was probably too busy to meet me, but what if I just dropped something off for him with no expectations? It would take me about two hours round trip to drive into Austin, but I could use the time to think.

  For the first time since my mother’s accident, I was inspired. And in the cosmetic section, I found even more inspiration: nail polish. Giving manicures was one thing I’d always been good at, and my mom could use one right now. I gathered a couple different colors and a nail file then headed to check out.

  Along the way, I passed a display showcasing old movies, including several starring Elvis Presley. I dug through the movies until I found It Happened at the World’s Fair. I could hardly believe my luck, and I actually laughed right there in the middle of the store. I could watch this movie while I did my mother’s nails. Maybe it would be just the thing to bring her out of her coma. I threw the movie in the cart, grateful the hospital had DVD players hooked to the TVs.

  After I paid for my purchases, I drove south where I stopped at Whole Foods to buy two salads with chicken, pico, corn, and guacamole. If Kyle wasn’t available to eat now, he could stick it in the refrigerator for later.

  Somewhere along the way in our marriage, I’d stopped taking care of Kyle’s meals for him. The feminist side of me argued that I shouldn’t have to. After all, he often ate at the hospital and came home full. Still, having me think about his meals was one way Kyle knew I loved him, which made sense, given his childhood.

  At the hospital in Austin, I texted my husband from the parking lot and told him I’d brought lunch. When he didn’t answer, I left his salad at the reception desk. Hopefully, he’d retrieve it before it spoiled, but if he didn’t, at least he’d know I was thinking about him.

  Back at the hospital in Turtle Lake, I entere
d my mom’s room, shocked all over again to see her pale and lifeless body lying in bed. Did I feel any different now that I knew she was my grandmother instead of my mother? Not really. She’d raised me as her own, and while I didn’t appreciate her secrecy, I couldn’t have asked for a better mother.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said, trying not to feel self-conscious about talking to someone in a coma. “I brought nail polish to give you a manicure while we watch an Elvis movie: It Happened at the World’s Fair. I found—” My throat went dry. Would she be mad to learn I’d looked through the anniversary album? Mad I’d found out about Angela’s pregnancy?

  Maybe. But maybe anger would bring her out of the coma. Maybe Logan had been right in demanding she just wake up.

  I sat beside her and began filing her nails. “I found the album Angela made for your fifteenth wedding anniversary. There was a picture of you and Dad with another couple at the World’s Fair. Were you in the movie?”

  She said nothing, of course, and I continued my monologue. “What about Ruby and her husband? Well, I assume that redheaded kid was her husband. Did they meet Elvis?”

  I examined her cuticles, wishing I’d brought a cuticle pusher. “Mom … I found Angela’s medical records … and I know the truth. I know she was my mother.”

  Tears filled my eyes, and I blinked them away. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you to raise me after Dad and Angela died, but thank you for being my mom. I love you, and while I don’t understand why you kept the secret, I’m not upset. I just want you to wake up.”

  Chapter 21

  Happiness filled me as Elvis flew his red airplane across the sky, singing about the green grass beyond the bend. I painted my mom’s nails and realized I’d seen this movie before. I must’ve watched it with her when I was a kid.

  Eleanor appeared in the doorway, demanding to know what I was doing.

  I tightened the cap on the nail polish and set it aside. “I’m just giving Mom a manicure while we watch an old Elvis movie. Doesn’t she look fabulous?”