Faltering

by Jennifer Lyndon

  “I thought you wanted to possibly stay here, permanently,” I observed. She had been so happy when we first arrived. “You wanted to find a house, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, well, I did, but that was before,” she explained.

  “Before what?” I pressed her.

  “Before I changed my mind,” she said sharply, releasing my hand. She looked a little irritated. “I can’t breathe here. These people are too intrusive.”

  “You think these people are intrusive?” I thought about the old gossips in Natchitoches who shunned my mother. Then I thought of all the pointed questions from Lara’s friends about my background. The people in Santa Fe were friendly and accepting, and in general, slightly standoffish, as far as I could tell. “Where do you want to go?”

  “West. We’ll go west, of course,” she replied as if it were obvious. I hoped the people west of us would be more pleasing to Lara.

  “I’ll let Talise know she only has a couple more days,” I said. Lara smiled and picked up her fork. Apparently her appetite had returned.

  “Good.”

  ****

  On this second leg of our journey we didn’t meander happily through our travels the way we had after leaving Chicago. Our journey had lost some of the glamor, and was beginning to feel less an adventure, while more closely resembling a flight from danger. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the sense I was being followed. It was more than her mother we were fleeing. It was the realization that our time together was running out. Lara kept trying to maintain her confidence that we would agree, that she could figure out a way to have both me, and the baby. It didn’t seem possible to me.

  We drove through the night, switching off every few hours to afford the other sleep. Finally, we reached Southern California, after two exhausting days of travel. Lara hated the congestion of L.A., so we drove on through and stopped at a hotel farther down the coast in a little community called Solana Beach. At that point Lara’s excitement managed to overshadow her exhaustion.

  “This is paradise,” she whispered, as she walked out onto the balcony of our suite. She stared at the view of rocky coastline and agitated blue water. “It must be seventy degrees,” she said wistfully.

  “Merry Christmas,” I whispered. She didn’t hear me over the sounds of waves crashing.

  It was actually Christmas Eve, but I was too tired to really care. Exhausted, I turned back from the view that was consuming her, and while still fully clothed, I climbed up on the high bed and lay on my side across the soft down comforter. Within moments the world receded, allowing my escape into sleep. I slept for sixteen hours, not waking until noon on Christmas day.

  I arose to the muffled sound of Lara’s voice coming from another room. I’d not taken the time to explore the suite when we arrived the day before, so I arose and looked around. I stumbled into the bathroom to see my horrific reflection. My hair looked matted and my clothes crumpled. I quickly stripped my clothes off and ran a bath. Luckily, my hair looked worse than it actually was, and I was easily able to brush the tangles out of it.

  After my bath, when I stepped out of the bathroom, clean and finally feeling somewhat human again, I listened for Lara’s voice. I was met with silence, and so ventured out into the living room area. I found her sitting outside on the balcony, yet again, absorbed by the view. I slid the balcony door back and went out to join her.

  “You were talking on the phone,” I said, as I sank down into the chair next to hers. “Who did you call?

  “Merry Christmas, my beautiful sleepy head. I thought you’d sleep forever,” she said through a smile, glancing over at me. “I was talking to Mother of course, and then Father. They’re upset I’m not home for the holidays.” I didn’t know how to respond to that. “Do you want to call Hattie?” she asked. I shook my head.

  “Not yet. I only just woke,” I replied. She turned and smiled at me.

  “It’s strange, isn’t it?” she asked. I shrugged, not comprehending her meaning. “I mean being away from home at this time of year. This is my first time. Thanksgiving didn’t faze me so much because I’ve been spending it with Joe’s family, the in-laws, for the past seven years. But this is the first time I’ve not been with Mother at Christmas.” I reached out take her hand loosely in mine. She surprised me by gripping my fingers tightly, and then lifting my hand her lips. “You know what, Sylvie? I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else in the world.”

  “Me too,” I agreed. She tilted her head to look over at me, studying my eyes as if she were unsure of me.

  “Mother never tracked us to Santa Fe,” she said softly. “Apparently, she’s not looking for me at all anymore. She asked a ton of questions about the baby though, about how big I am, and about my health.” I swallowed across a sudden lump in my throat. “I told her I think the baby’s a girl this time, and that it feels different with her than with the others.” She placed her free hand on my belly. I didn’t like the sadness I saw in Lara’s eyes. “Mother was sweet, like she used to be, the way she was when I was a little girl. She said she didn’t like to think of my being alone, and if I would allow her, she would come out and stay with me.”

  “What did you say?”

  “For a minute I was tempted to say okay, but then I remembered that I’m not actually pregnant. I told her this is simply something I need to do on my own,” she said.

  “You remembered?” I asked, confused. She grinned.

  “You must believe your own lies if you want to be convincing. I just got a little wrapped up in it all for a moment,” she explained, pressing the back of my hand to her cheek. “Haven’t you ever lied about anything, Sylvie?” I shook my head.

  “Of course, but nothing this big,” I replied. Lara nodded and squeezed my hand before releasing it and standing.

  “Come inside with me. I have a Christmas gift for you,” she said, turning away from my scrutiny.

  She waited for me to get up, and then led the way back inside. I watched as she approached one of her suitcases. She reached into the side pocket and retrieved a little shiny green box with a red ribbon on it. I felt bad about not having wrapped her gift. I went to my purse and pulled out the soft little leather pouch holding the necklace I’d had Talise make her. Lara went over to the high bed and straightened the covers, before climbing up and sitting in the middle of it. I followed less gracefully, my belly making my movements awkward.

  “I didn’t expect you to get me anything,” she said softly, eyeing the pouch in my hand.

  “I know,” I said through a nervous smile.

  My heart beat faster as I noticed she was blushing. I handed her the pouch quickly, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager. Lara held up the little pouch and then slowly opened it. She peeked inside first, and then turned it over to drop the necklace out into the palm of her hand. She simply gazed at it for a moment, studying it, before she lifted it so she could get a closer look. She glanced over at me. It was a golden sun on a delicate gold chain. At the center of the sun was a fire opal. I knew opals were Lara’s birthstone, so I thought she would like it. Her smile was enchanting as she held it up to the sunlight streaming into our room. The sun appeared to flame.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “I love it.”

  “It’s a fire opal,” I volunteered, because she hadn’t asked.

  “I know what it is, Sylvie,” she said in reply. Her eyes were still focused on it. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it though, in this setting. It’s so unusual, kind of abstract.” I smiled, as my cheeks grew warm. “Will you help me put it on?” I nodded and she shifted in front of me. She opened the clasp of the necklace and offered it back to me to fasten. When I was finished she turned around and asked, “It’s so elegant. I love it. Does it suit me?” I nodded, and she scooted off the bed to go take a look in the bathroom mirror. Satisfied, I could tell she really liked her present.

  When she returned to me she was smiling, her fingertips brushing the chain. “All right, my
turn, though I’m not sure I did as well as you at choosing,” she started, hopping up on the bed. She quickly kissed me before handing me my gift.

  I tugged the bow gently, slipping it loose as she watched me closely, seeming to hold her breath. She grinned as I freed the little box from the shiny wrapping paper. It was a dark burgundy velvet box. I popped it open and gazed down at a gold watch with diamonds embedded in the face. Lara waited patiently as I slid the watch out of the box to examine it.

  “Turn it over,” she said calmly. I did as she asked to find the inscription, “All my love for all time. L.,” on the back of the watchcase.

  “You mean that, Lara?” She smiled and nodded a little sheepishly, her cheeks coloring.

  “Of course I do. Here, put it on and make sure it fits. I had the jeweler adjust it for my wrist. I think it’s about the same size as yours.” I clasped it around my wrist. It fit perfectly, so I held out my arm to show her. She took my hand, guiding me down next to her on the bed. “Do you like it, baby?” I nodded.

  “I do. And I love you.”

  “I wish we could stay here forever,” she whispered.

  “In Solana Beach?” I asked, skeptically. She laughed.

  “Don’t you like it here?”

  “I don’t really know yet,” was my honest reply.

  “Well, that’s not what I meant, anyway. I just meant that I wish we could always be like this,” she explained.

  “Like this?” I asked softly. She turned on her side to look at me. “Lara, I’m not sure I can let her go.” She smiled as her eyes moved down to my belly. “I know I said I was going to give her away, but I don’t think I can do that. I love her.” Lara’s fingers tightened against mine as her gaze returned to my eyes. “If you could have your way with everything, with me I mean, what would you want?” She chuckled, but then her expression sobered.

  “Finally, the big question,” she said in a teasing tone, but then she looked pensive for a moment, before releasing my hand. She ran her fingers through her loose hair, roughly pushing it back from her face as if it were bothering her. “I want to have it all, of course,” she said evenly. “I want you and our child.”

  “Where would we live?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Anywhere, or somewhere that’s not Natchitoches,” she said firmly. I nodded my agreement.

  “That leaves an enormous world to choose from,” I observed. “What about Sri Lanka?” She shook her head.

  “You know what I mean, Sylvie,” she said, watching me warily.

  “Do you think it’s possible, that we could really stay together?” I asked. Lara nodded slowly. “I can work anywhere there’s a hospital?” She glanced sideways at me.

  “There’s no need for anything so drastic,” she said softly. “I’ll inherit from my parents, eventually, and I still have some money from Joe’s estate. If I take this child back with me and present her as Joe’s baby, she’ll inherit his trust. Our lawyer told me it was lucky I was pregnant. This child keeps Joe’s trust with his estate. Without offspring from our marriage it would have returned to his parents. And there’s Joe’s life insurance, of course.” I nodded, my heart sinking. “She’ll never want for anything, Sylvie.”

  “But she’ll belong to them. You both will,” I said. She shook her head. “Your mother won’t let you leave again. His parents will try to keep you there too, if they believe this child is their last heir. How will you get away? How will you come back to me?”

  “You worry too much, Sylvie,” she replied, her tone admonishing. I shook my head, wanting to argue. “I’ll only stay in Natchitoches long enough to establish her birthright, not a moment longer, and then I’ll rush back to you. Nothing could keep me from your arms, baby. I promise.”

  “It scares me,” I answered cautiously. “I just wish it were simpler. I’m afraid of losing you,” I confessed. “I’m afraid something will happen.” She grinned and scooted closer to me, opening my robe and stretching her fingers across my belly.

  “Stop worrying,” she said, trying to soothe me. “I promise, I’ll make you incredibly happy if you’ll let me.”

  “You make me happy already,” I said. “It’s the child I worry about.” Lara leaned her head down against my belly, listening.

  “Well, I’m going to make her happy too,” she replied, turning her head to gently kiss my belly, before pressing her ear against it again. “You’re everything I want, Sylvie.” I wound my fingers through her pale hair, realizing what she said was false. She only wanted me on her terms. To keep her I had to compromise.

  “I love you,” I replied, rather than giving voice to that thought. My baby moved and Lara pulled her head back suddenly and looked up at me in wonder.

  “I felt her move,” she said. I nodded in agreement. My baby had been moving all morning. “That’s the first time I’ve really felt her move. Did she hurt you, kicking like that?” I couldn’t help but smile at her excitement. “She’s so strong,” she whispered. “And healthy. She really will live. This one’s going to make it.”

  ****

  Lara started looking for a house the first week of January. We had no success in Solana Beach, but instead found a little furnished cottage in La Jolla, right on the water. A week later we moved in. I was getting too big to be travelling around, and I knew I needed to decide about where to have my baby. Mercy Hospital seemed the obvious choice. Although I knew everything was normal with my pregnancy, I set up a prenatal visit under Lara’s name, and went in for an exam. Since I paid for everything in cash, no identification was ever required from me, and the groundwork was laid for my child to become Lara’s.

  We spent our days walking on the beach, and our evenings inside, cozy and content. The weeks sifted into months as my middle expanded and I became more confident in Lara’s attachment to me. She fussed over everything, cooking for me, buying me thoughtful little presents constantly, solicitously opening doors, and generally trying to make the world around me conform. She accompanied me to the doctor for my visits, holding my hand, not worrying what anyone would think of us, of her. My doubts slipped away into the ocean breeze, as I accepted the inevitability of Lara and I becoming parents. Somehow the notion of giving my child a father who was female stopped worrying me, and I focused on preparing for my own role as mother.

  April 1976

  Apparently my child grew tired of waiting to join in the drama of life, because while Lara and I were out walking on the beach, I bent to retrieve an interesting shell, a sort of sea biscuit, and as I straightened, my water broke. For only a moment I feared my bladder was the culprit, as I turned and looked to Lara. My contractions began almost immediately thereafter.

  Lara hurried me to the hospital where three hours later I cradled, in my arms, my tiny baby girl. She was the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Her tiny pink fingers gripped my gown as her large blue eyes blurrily took in the world around her. She cried only a few gasps when they took her from me for a bath. I fell asleep waiting for her return, but she was brought back to me to be fed during the night several times.

  When I awoke the following morning, Lara was sitting in the chair beside my bed, absently flipping through the glossy pages of a fashion magazine, as was her habit when passing time. When she heard me stirring, she quickly put it aside.

  “She’ll bring her back in a minute. You have to feed her again, I believe. That’s what Nurse Ruth told me when she checked in on you a few minutes ago,” she assured. Lara’s eyes were watery, her smile gentle.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” I replied. “I was terrified of going through this alone.” Lara stood and moved to my side, taking my hand tightly in hers.

  “You’re sure you still want me to name her?” she asked cautiously. I nodded. “I named her after Joe, like we agreed, but also, after you.” I nodded. “Josephine Sylvaine,” she whispered, smiling softly as the name crossed her lips. I nodded again. “Is that all right, baby? I still have the form here if you don’t like it. We can
choose something else if you want.” I squeezed her fingers to reassure her.

  “No. I like the name. Josie suites her, I think,” I assured her.

  I was too tired to really discuss it with her. Honestly, I had another name in mind when I held my child earlier, something softer, but it didn’t matter. I wanted Lara to feel connected to our daughter. I heard the door open and Lara released my hand, stepping back from me quickly. Nurse Ruth, a matronly woman who reminded me of Mary, my friend in Chicago, brought my daughter over and delicately placed her in my arms.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Lacoste,” the nurse said casually. “It’s time for her breakfast.” I made an effort not to become too friendly with the hospital staff because I was afraid I might slip up and expose myself as Sylvie, instead of Lara. I looked over at Lara nervously. She was obviously fighting back tears. The nurse helped me get Josie situated, shifting my gown open so Josie could latch on to my breast. When I glanced back at Lara she was staring intently at her hands in her lap. There were tears running down her cheeks. The nurse seemed busy, and not very interested in us, and so she was heading out of the room quickly.

  “Thank you,” I called after her. The woman turned and smiled.

  “I’ll be back to check on you later,” the nurse offered. I focused my attention back to Lara. She rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands. When she heard the door close Lara was on her feet quickly. She stepped close to the bed and leaned forward to kiss my forehead.

  “She’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” I answered, nodding my agreement.

  “I can’t believe she’s really here,” Lara said. I smiled, noticing the strength in Josie’s tiny hand as she gripped my thumb. “And she’s so strong,” Lara added. I nodded again. “I was half the night out there in the hallway watching her to make sure she was still breathing. The other half I spent in here, watching over you. I’ve been a nervous wreck, back and forth, but I think everything’s going well. This is so completely different than any of my experiences,” she said. Lara looked exhausted. I gingerly eased over on my bed to make room for her.