Leigh

by Lyn Cote

  Kitty had been expecting this question. “Do you remember that photograph I keep on my desk at home in San Francisco?”

  “Him? I always wondered who he was. What happened to him… to you?” Leigh looked as if Kitty had grown another head.

  “You mean why did we part, and why do I keep his photo around?”

  “Both.” Leigh studied Kitty, her face twisted in concentration.

  “I keep his photograph on my desk to remind me that even the most intelligent woman can make horrible mistakes, commit the most foolish sins. You see, I thought I was desperately in love with him. But in truth, I was just desperate. I was thirty, and he was charming and tragically married but separated from a wife who wouldn’t give him a divorce. I thought ours was a grand love story. But I was just a fool, living in sin with an unfaithful alcoholic. When I finally figured that out, I left him and moved to San Francisco.”

  “And you gave your son to Grandmother to raise?” Leigh sipped her tea at last. “I don’t know if I can do that. Give my child away.”

  “Well, as I told my own three daughters,” Rose cut in, “some men come and go in a woman’s life, but babies are forever. Miss Kitty was right to have her baby, and Thompson didn’t suffer none from being raised here by his own blood. But times are changin’. Miss Leigh, you can keep your baby and raise it yourself.” Rose aimed her cup at Leigh. “You keep your own blood. You’ll never regret it.”

  “We’ll help you, sweetheart,” Grandma Chloe said, squeezing her shoulder. “I want my first great-grandchild very much.”

  “Mother won’t want me to keep my baby,” Leigh said, looking resentful, hunted.

  “That doesn’t really matter, does it?” Kitty lifted her chin. “This will be your decision.”

  “Does Uncle Thompson know?” Leigh asked. “I mean…”

  “Yes,” Chloe replied, “I asked him when he turned twenty-one if he still wanted to meet his mother. When I couldn’t persuade Kitty to come to him, he flew to San Francisco at her invitation.”

  Leigh looked to Kitty. “How did that go?”

  “He was kind enough to understand why I’d given him to Chloe and my brother. He told me he hadn’t suffered because Chloe had been such a wonderful mother. And she’d told him as a child that he was McCaslin by blood and not to worry about who his real parents were, that she would tell him when he became a man.”

  Kitty paused before she could go on. Speaking of Thompson like this was costing her more emotionally than she’d feared. But she went on resolutely, “Both he and I are sorry that we missed so many years together. But I write him regularly. And he calls and writes me. He’s visited me and brought his bride to meet me on their honeymoon.”

  Leigh nodded slowly as if pondering all this.

  “It’s your life,” Kitty said, switching back to the main topic: Leigh and her baby. “You’ve made a mistake—you trusted someone who was untrustworthy. You aren’t the first woman to make that mistake.”

  Rose snorted over her tea. “Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered and continued, “We women got a way of hearin’ things men don’t remember saying.”

  Kitty almost smiled. “But we all have to go on. And no one can say that this hasn’t been a rough year for you.”

  “Yes,” Chloe took over, “I don’t think you would have done this if you hadn’t suffered such overwhelming loss this year. If Dane hadn’t died, you might have been pregnant by him now. But he’s gone, and no matter what,we’ll all love this baby.”

  Kitty leaned forward. “We will.”

  Chloe put her arm around Leigh’s shoulder and hugged her. And Rose raised her cup and said, “That’s a fact.”

  The next evening in front of another warming fire, Leigh sat in the same spot beside Chloe. Kitty was in the same chair as the day before, but Dory had taken Rose’s place. Bette stood nearby. A cold December wind was buffeting the old windows and rattling the panes. Leigh leaned closer to the fire. The Christmas decorations that gave the room a festive air didn’t fit the occasion. Just a few minutes before, Leigh had told her mother about her pregnancy.

  She’d wondered what her mother’s reaction would be. She hadn’t had to wait long to find out. Her mother had immediately tried to send Dory from the room as if she would be contaminated by the discussion. But now a teen, Dory had refused, and Grandma Chloe had backed her up, saying this was a family matter and Dory was part of it. Visibly fuming, Bette had paced up and down a few minutes and then turned to face Leigh.

  “Of course, you must give the baby up for adoption.” Her mother was pink in the face. “We’ll find you a good unwed-mothers home out of state, and you’ll just go away and no one will ever have to know.”

  “No,” Leigh objected, revolted by the idea of being sent away like a leper, “I don’t—”

  “How could you have let this happen?” her mother interrupted her, “when Dane is barely cold in his—”

  “That’s enough,” Chloe snapped and then she tempered her voice. “Don’t say things you’ll regret, Bette. Leigh made a bad decision, and we all know why this happened. You lost Ted. But Leigh lost both the man who’d been her loving father and the man she was going to marry this year. She wasn’t thinking like herself. And someone took advantage of that.”

  “I feel like an idiot,” Leigh admitted. “I’d do anything to change this, but I can’t.”

  “I don’t know why you just can’t do what I suggest,” Bette said, her voice becoming pleading, “Honey, this could ruin your life.”

  Leigh shook her head. The love from her grandmother, Kitty, and Rose had given her strength and brought her first night of deep sleep after many sleepless ones. Both had settled her nerves. “I talked to Grandma and Aunt Kitty, and I think they’re right. I don’t want to give up my baby. I want to raise him or her—”

  Bette huffed her displeasure; her face twisted with it. “Who is going to marry you with an… an illegitimate child?”

  “I don’t think I’m ever going to marry,” Leigh said, gazing into the dancing flames.

  “Of course, you are,” Bette snapped.

  “I never did,” Kitty put in. “Staying single isn’t the end of the world.”

  “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle,” Dory recited the popular women’s lib slogan.

  Bette glared at her.

  Chloe shook her head. “I don’t ever remember seeing a fish and a bicycle mate.”

  Dory began, “I never thought—”

  “Let’s stick to the subject,” Bette cut in. “Leigh, if you won’t do what I suggest, you can’t come back and live with me. What will the neighbors say?”

  “Well, if they’re good neighbors, they will come over and ask if they can help,” Chloe replied. “If they’re bad neighbors, what does it matter what they say?”

  Leigh stood and stirred the wood with the black iron poker. She stared into the flickering red coals. She didn’t want to look at her mother, see rejection in her eyes.

  “This doesn’t make any sense.” Bette finally sat down in the chair opposite the fire. “Why is it always something with you, Leigh? Dory never gives me an ounce of trouble. Isn’t it enough that I lost your stepfather this year—”

  “Don’t worry, Mother,” Leigh flared up, holding the poker like a pointer. “I won’t soil your reputation with my love child.You’ll never have to see—”

  “No, I want to see the baby,” Dory pleaded, holding out her hands. “Mama, please.”

  “Bette, I asked you not to give into the emotion of the moment,” Chloe said, “and say things that you will regret.” Chloe turned to Leigh. “And that goes for you, too.”

  Leigh turned and put the poker back in its stand on the hearth. She folded her arms around herself.

  Bette burst into tears. And Leigh looked away into the fire, her jaw set.

  On January 2, 1973, in the kitchen at Ivy Manor, Leigh dialed the number of Women Today and then the extension for her editor. Leigh didn’t want to
do what she was going to do, but she didn’t have a choice.

  “Hello, Dorcas, this is Leigh.” Her mouth was so dry she could barely speak. How many times must she make this confession?

  “Hi, are you calling for an extension of the Christmas hiatus? If you need another day or—”

  “No.” Might as well take the plunge. Leigh sucked in air. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Pregnant,” Dorcas repeated sharply. “How pregnant?”

  “About two months.” Leigh felt like crying again. She loved this job.

  “Do you need time off for a honeymoon?” Dorcas asked, sounding uncertain.

  “I’m not getting married.” Leigh knew the conversation would end now. She wanted to plead with her editor, but that wasn’t professional, possible.

  “I see.”

  It was 1973, but most professional women—still primarily teachers and nurses—customarily quit working as soon as they found out they were pregnant. And certainly no magazine would want an unmarried pregnant writer. “My grandmother here in Maryland has asked me to stay with her.”

  “Can’t you have your baby here?” Dorcas’s tone was incisive and slightly combative. “We have doctors in New York, too, you know.”

  At this unexpected salvo, Leigh gathered her wits. “I didn’t know what your policy was about pregnant… unmarried employees—”

  “We don’t have one—yet—but I know this,” Dorcas said. “We aren’t going to fire you or applique a red A on your blouse. If you want to work, I want you here working. You can take time off when you have the baby. But I’ll want you back as soon as you can. You’re my best interviewer. I can send you anywhere and you always get exactly what I want.”

  Leigh began crying, but tried hard not to let it be heard over the line. “Thanks, Dorcas. I’ll talk it over with my grandmother and aunt.”

  She hung up. The idea of continuing her work gave her a spurt of pure joy. But could she, should she go on working?

  She turned toward the three women around the kitchen table, who’d been listening to the one-sided phone call, and gave them the news.

  “Told you,” Aunt Kitty crowed.

  “But do you want to go on working?” Chloe asked. “You know you don’t need to. Roarke left me more than comfortable.”

  Leigh sat down. “I want to keep writing. It’s what I do. I just didn’t think they’d want me working there—”

  “Yes, the scarlet-letter syndrome,” Kitty snapped.

  Leigh gazed at her great-aunt. She’d probably suffered from gossip all those years ago. Having an illegitimate baby in 1931 was worlds away from having one in 1973.

  “Well, it’s always better to have a father around when you’re raisin’ a child,” Rose commented from the stove where she’d moved to stir the fragrant navy-bean soup made from a leftover ham bone. “But lots of women have had to do it all alone. And why shouldn’t you go on doing what you want? Black women don’t usually get to stay home and take care of their children. The grannies do that. The women work.”

  “But Leigh’s granny is going to be here in Ivy Manor,” Chloe complained, almost pouting.

  “Perhaps a great-aunt will do in a pinch,” Kitty said. “I used to live in the Village. You said you’ve taken a two-bedroom apartment. Why don’t I come and stay with you?”

  Leigh stared at her aunt, stunned but pleased.

  “She’s my granddaughter,” Chloe said with a glint in her eye.

  Leigh laughed through her tears. “Hey, you two don’t need to fight over me. You can share this baby, okay?”

  “Maybe Bette will want to come and help out, too,” Rose suggested, pausing with the wooden spoon in hand. “When a woman has her first baby, it’s a good time for a mother and daughter. Bette was left with you, a baby to raise alone, until Mr. Ted persuaded her to marry him. And it’s good for Dory to learn about babies.”

  Leigh bit her lower lip before replying, “Rose, you’re dreaming. Mother left right after Christmas, and you know they had intended to stay until today. Poor Dory was crying as they drove away. Mother doesn’t want her to get the idea that what I’ve done was right. Well, I know it’s wrong. What I don’t get is why she’d think I’d encourage my sister to get pregnant out of wedlock?” Anger flared. “I’d have to hate my sister to do that. And I certainly don’t hate Dory.”

  Leigh hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell her mother that the baby’s father was married to someone else. As it was, just the out-of-wedlock pregnancy had been enough to turn Bette away from her.

  Chloe reached over and put her hand on Leigh’s. “Your mother is suffering, mourning, too. She’s lost Ted, remember. And your mother sometimes acts angry when she is really more worried and upset than anything. She wanted everything to be perfect for you, and life isn’t cooperating.”

  Leigh didn’t want to disagree with her grandmother, but it seemed to her that Bette had never been happy with her. Why did Leigh have to lose her stepfather along with Dane? She could have used Ted’s help in bridging this gap between her mother and her. But he was gone and her mother had made it clear—without saying a word—that if Leigh wouldn’t give up her child, Bette would give up Leigh.

  Two days later, Kitty returned to New York City with Leigh. After looking over Leigh’s apartment, she made arrangements to have some of her furniture moved from the San Francisco townhouse. The rest was put into storage, and the townhouse was given to a rental agent to manage. Until the furniture arrived, Kitty was sleeping on Leigh’s new bed, and Leigh was back at Nancy’s apartment, which was just below hers, on the sofa. And back to work.

  The next day, Leigh returned home from interviewing women trying to get apprenticed to unions in New York City about the discrimination they were fighting. Through the dark, early winter night, she headed home, bundled up with her fur hat and lined gloves. It was her night to cook, so she stopped on the way home and picked up Chinese at their favorite restaurant in the neighborhood.

  Over the past few weeks, she’d found that she did tire more easily, though she’d decided not to mention it to any one. She was going to be a single mother. She might as well get used to the fact that her life had changed.

  She entered Nancy’s apartment. Kitty was already there, beaming at her like Christmas had come again. “I just got off the phone. I’ve already signed us up for Lamaze classes!”

  “Lamaze?” Leigh echoed, not prepared for this.

  “Yes, modern, natural childbirth,” Kitty enthused. “They say it’s all the rage.”

  Nancy stepped out of the bathroom. “Yeah, you don’t want to have your kid the old-fashioned way, do you?”

  I guess I don’t have a choice. “Right. I got Chinese.” Anyway, Aunt Kitty’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Chloe had confided to Leigh that maybe Kitty needed to do this to put some demons of her own to rest. After all, Chloe felt that Kitty still struggled with guilt over giving up Thompson. Leigh tried to visualize what Aunt Kitty had gone through in the 1930s as an unwed mother and felt a rush of love and compassion for her grandfather’s little sister.

  July 29, 1973

  Aunt Kitty sat on the green mat on the floor at the Lamaze class next to Leigh. “You’re doing great, honey. Breathe in, now out.”

  Lying on her back and gazing at her focus point, Leigh didn’t know if she agreed with Kitty. When would this pregnancy ever end?

  The instructor, a young woman with long, straw-colored hair who wore jeans and a white T-shirt, looked at the clock. “Now remember at the end of your labor, you will get the urge to push. But don’t push until you’re fully dilated to ten or you could tear the perineum. At that stage, when you get the urge to push, blow. You can’t push at both ends at once.”

  The class, which consisted primarily of couples, chuckled. Leigh had been grateful to find that two other women classmates had brought female relatives like Leigh had. She wondered if any of the other women were as nervous as she secretly was.

  “Well, that’s our last les
son,” the instructor said. “I’ll expect each of you to contact me after you deliver. I always love to come and see ‘my’ babies.”

  Kitty helped Leigh up and then rolled up the avocado-green exercise mat. Leigh looked down and couldn’t see her slightly swollen feet. She had about ten days to go until her due date. She rubbed the ache in her lower back and was glad it was summer and she could wear sandals. She couldn’t imagine trying to wear real shoes right now.

  As she and Aunty waited their turn to say farewell to their instructor, the baby started kicking with both feet on the right side of Leigh’s abdomen. When the baby had dropped and engaged a month before, it had evidently landed on one side and now didn’t have room to turn over. At times like this, Leigh felt like the baby was complaining about the cramped conditions. Leigh pressed against the painful rhythm.

  Finally, they bid the instructor farewell and then, calling good luck to the others, they headed for the subway and the short ride home. Well, ready or not, Leigh didn’t have much longer to wait. And then I’ll be a mother.As usual, she tried not to think too much about what the birth process was really going to be like.

  It was still light out when they walked into their apartment and found Grandma Chloe waiting for them. Worried that Leigh might need her earlier than expected, she’d called and said she’d decided to come early and stay with the Love ladys until Leigh delivered. Leigh hurried over and threw her arms around her grandmother’s neck. “Oh, I’m so glad you came. So glad!”

  Kitty hugged Chloe, and then Nancy unlocked the door with her key and came in. “I could hear you squealing through my ceiling. It sounded like all of you were having fun without me. No fair!”

  “I’ll pour us some iced tea,” Leigh said as she moved into the small alcove that was her kitchen. She opened the refrigerator—and then stood stock still in shock. The three women behind her chattered away while she stood there contrasting how she’d thought the delivery would start—and how it actually had.

  “Where’s that iced tea?” Nancy asked.

  Leigh turned. Fluid was trickling down her legs. She had to clear her throat to reply. “I’ve… I’m… I think my water just broke. I’ll get the mop.” But she didn’t move.