Saying Good-bye to London

by Julie Burtinshaw

  “Don’t get any ideas,” Francis teased. “No party for me.”

  Sawyer frowned at him. “It’s hardly a secret. I mean, I’m not ashamed. Besides, look at me.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I think it’s cool how open you are. I just meant, a party…”

  “Kevin had a party when he lost his dad. You called it a wake. A party is a way of acknowledging someone or some occasion, like a birth or a death or a baby—it’s still an occasion.” Sawyer sounded exasperated. “The party they had for me on my last day of school wasn’t a shower or anything. They were really clear about that. They didn’t give me baby gifts. They gave me books and earrings and—wait till you see what they made me.” She pushed herself out of her chair and waddled into her bedroom, returning with a giant card that she handed to Francis. “Check this out,” she said, obviously pleased.

  Elegant calligraphy covered the surface. “It’s a letter,” he said. “Dear Sawyer,” he read. “We are so lucky to have you in our class. We have watched you face a tough situation with honesty and dignity. You have thirty friends in this class, so you’re not the ‘new girl’ anymore. You are one of us. We are here for you. Good luck!” Francis studied it before passing it to Kevin. “Look, they’ve all signed it, including the teacher, Miss Addison.”

  “I know,” Sawyer crowed. “You know what this means, right?”

  “It means you don’t need us anymore,” said Kevin.

  Sawyer laughed. “No, you idiot. I’ll always need you guys. But they like me, despite everything. That’s how it was in London. That’s what I missed the most when we moved. I felt so lonely in school here, but not now. Finally, this place feels like home.”

  Jack, who’d been quietly listening to the conversation, spoke up. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along. Home isn’t a place. It’s where the people who love you are.”

  “I know, Jack. It’s taken a while, but I get it.”

  “You know,” Kevin said later, as he and Francis waited for the bus. “Sawyer is a pretty amazing person.”

  “Yeah,” Francis agreed. “I feel like so much has happened since we met at that dance…” His voice trailed off. “Hard stuff, like your dad, and then she got pregnant. But—”

  Kevin finished the sentence for him. “But somehow good has come out of it. My dad always said life works that way, but up until now, I never really believed it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  If ever there is tomorrow when we’re not together…there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart…I’ll always be with you.

  Excerpt: Sawyer Martin’s diary, quoting A.A. Milne

  On May 12, Taylor and Sydney had flown to Vancouver and taken a suite in a hotel near the British Columbia Women’s Hospital. Even though the baby wasn’t due for two weeks, they didn’t want to risk missing her birthday.

  A week before her due date, Sawyer was strolling down Main Street with Jack. Jack slowed his pace to match Sawyer’s. Even though she’d been experiencing uncomfortable pressure in her pelvis, she insisted on going out. “I’m restless.” The air had lost its bite, and the warm sunshine promised longer days. Sawyer, thirty pounds heavier, moved slowly.

  She was tired and cranky. “I’m really craving a chocolate milk,” she announced.

  They slipped into Joe’s convenience store, and while Jack browsed the magazines, Sawyer went in search of her drink. When Jack heard a startled cry, he rushed to the cooler and discovered Sawyer standing in a pool of water. “Help,” she cried.

  “Did something break?”

  “Yeah, Jack. You could say that. It’s my water.”

  His brow creased. “Huh?”

  “My water broke. As in, the baby is on her way.”

  “But it’s a week early! It can’t be today.” Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Should I call 911?”

  “No. Call my mom. Tell her to meet us at the hospital. I’m okay. Just a little cramping.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” Joe came out from behind the counter. “Would you like to sit down?”

  “I’m just sorry about the mess.” Sawyer grimaced. “Let’s go, Jack. Now!”

  She waddled at high speed out of the store. Jack followed her, still clutching his phone.

  Less than half an hour later, a young nurse ushered Sawyer into a birthing suite. “It’s your lucky day,” she said with a smile. “We’re not full at all. You’ll get lots of attention.” She turned to Jack. “You’ll have to wait outside.”

  “Jack is one of my birth partners,” Sawyer told her.

  Jack nodded. “I’d kind of like to sit down.”

  “Thank god there are more partners.” Sawyer sighed. “Jack, call Francis. He’ll get Kevin. Make sure you call the dads. Do it before you faint.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He rushed out of the room, dialing numbers frantically on his phone.

  “Did you say dads with an s?” the nurse queried.

  “It’s a long story,” Sawyer began. “You see—” Her first really strong contraction hit her, and she doubled over in pain.

  Outside the room, Jack heard her cry out and his legs turned to spaghetti. Hurry up, guys. I can’t do this alone.

  Sydney and Taylor were the first to arrive, followed by Sawyer’s mother. Francis, Kevin, and Francis’s parents were close behind. They all hurried into the birthing suite to check on Sawyer.

  “It’s awfully crowded in here,” the maternity nurse pointed out good-naturedly.

  “Yes,” said Sawyer. Her eyes sought out Taylor and Sydney. “Where’s Star?”

  “We left her with friends. She’ll come after the baby is born.” Taylor took her hand and squeezed it.

  “Good luck, Sawyer,” Francis said. “We’ll be right outside if you need us.”

  To his surprise, his mother bent over and kissed Sawyer on the cheek. “You’re a lovely, brave girl,” she said gently in her ear. His dad put his arm around his wife. “I second that,” he added. “We’ll be here the whole time.” They left the labor suite holding hands. Francis felt a rush of love toward them.

  “Come on.” Kevin took his arm. “We have to go outside too. Good luck, Sawyer.” She let out a long breath and turned to them. “This is it.”

  Francis stood awkwardly, not moving until Kevin guided him from the room.

  Dr. Chung arrived minutes later to find Mrs. Martin, Sydney, and Taylor gathered around her patient, the three of them encouraging her with every contraction. A quick examination showed her to be six centimeters dilated. “Things are moving quickly,” she reassured Sawyer. “It’s probably too late for an epidural, but I can offer you some of that laughing gas we talked about to help ease your anxiety.”

  Sawyer accepted gratefully. The contractions were closer now, and the pain threatened to overwhelm her. “Mom,” she cried out. “It hurts too much. I can’t do this.”

  “Oh, yes you can, sweetie.” Her mother pressed a cold cloth to her daughter’s damp forehead. “I love you, and you can do this.”

  Sawyer smiled before moaning through another stronger contraction.

  Two hours later, Dr. Chung checked her again. “You’re almost there! It’s time to start pushing.”

  Twenty minutes later, Sawyer gave birth to an eight-pound baby girl. London Sawyer Fox-Laberge entered the world under the adoring eyes of her birth family and her adoptive family.

  When Francis, his parents, Jack, and Kevin filed into the suite, Sawyer was sitting up in bed sipping on a glass of apple juice. “I’m starving,” she declared. “That was hard work.”

  Beside her, swaddled in a pink blanket, Baby London slept peacefully. “She’s beautiful,” murmured Francis’s mother. S
he touched the baby’s cheek. The baby stirred and blinked her eyes open. “Beautiful little London.” She choked back tears. Seeing her anguish, Taylor wrapped his arms around her.

  “Your London will be loved and looked after all of her life. That is my promise to you and to your family.”

  Francis’s mom blinked back tears. “Thank you. That means so much to me—to us.” She turned to Sawyer. “She’s a beautiful baby. Absolutely lovely. Perfect.”

  His dad bent over London. He placed a kiss on her head. “She certainly is,” he agreed. He took a step back, changed his mind, and glanced at the baby once again. He reached out and wrapped his large hand around her tiny one, murmuring something inaudible to her. When he turned away, his face was a mask. “Francis,” he said, his voice wavering. “Your mother and I have said our good-byes. We’ll wait outside for you, if you like.”

  “That’s okay,” Francis answered. “I’ll make my own way home.” Only after they’d left did he turn to face the swaddled form in the crib. “She’s so small,” he observed, his voice full of wonder. The baby’s eyes opened. Big, clear blue eyes, and she let out a tiny cry.

  Mrs. Martin touched him on the shoulder. “Would you like to hold her?”

  “Not really,” Francis said. “She looks so fragile. But she’s got a head of hair.”

  “She’s more resilient than you might think.” Mrs. Martin gave him an encouraging smile. “Look, her little fingers are moving.”

  Francis took London in his arms, marveling at her miniature perfection. He held her only for a few minutes. “Hello, London,” he whispered. “I’ll write to you. I promise.”

  Feeling an unexpected wave of emotion, he handed the baby to Sydney. “Take good care of her.” His voice cracked. Taylor wrapped a sympathetic arm around his shoulder.

  Jack held London next. He rocked her back and forth rhythmically. He told her how lucky she was. He breathed in her smell and then he gave her back to the nurse.

  “Would you like to feed her?”

  “Maybe once. Later. When it’s just us,” Sawyer said sadly.

  Sydney and Taylor had been watching Jack’s interaction with their baby closely. They waited until the others were gathered around London and Sawyer, then they took him aside. “Sawyer’s mother has told us how supportive you’ve been and what a good friend you are to her daughter,” Taylor said.

  “She’s my best friend,” Jack replied simply.

  Taylor nodded. “If you ever need anybody to talk to, here’s our email. You’ve done so much for us. We’d like to return the favor.”

  Sawyer spent that night with London. The nurse gave Sawyer drugs to dry up her milk, and London took to her bottle lustily. Sawyer did change her diapers and she cuddled her, only giving her up to the nurses reluctantly when she couldn’t stay awake any longer. She memorized London’s tiny fingers, perfect toes, and the shape of her clear blue eyes and precious little nose.

  She breathed in her baby’s scent and shed more than a few private tears, but this was her time with her baby and she refused to ruin it by crying the night away. In her heart she still knew she was doing the best thing for London. That didn’t take away her sadness, but it did make her feel proud of herself and grateful for her friends and for London’s dads.

  Twenty-four hours later, she placed Baby London into the arms of her adoptive parents, Taylor and Sydney. Star gazed at her new baby sister, wide-eyed. “I love you, London,” she said and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, Sawyer, for our baby.”

  Taylor took Sydney’s hand. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but they owed this young girl so much. “Thank you,” he said softly.

  Sawyer managed a weak smile. “I knew that saying good-bye to London would be difficult, but you’ve made it so much easier.”

  Before they left, they gave Sawyer a small silver heart locket on a lacy chain. She turned it over. London was engraved on the back. Inside she discovered a tiny picture of her daughter.

  She didn’t cry in front of the others, not once. Francis did, though, as did Kevin and Jack. “How can you be so stoic?” Jack inquired.

  “London has not one but two amazing dads and a sister. It’s the best thing I could give her. What’s to cry about? Besides,” she said, pulling down the neck of her shirt, “her name is tattooed on my shoulder. London will always be with me.”

  Epilogue

  Every so often, I reread the copy of my letter to my daughter. Sometimes it makes me cry. It surprises me how much I love her, even though I don’t know her at all.

  I’m not going to read you the letter. It’s just between the two of us, but I will share a bit.

  I wrote about myself because I want London to know all about me—the real me. I tried to think of what I would want to know if I were in her shoes. I told her the kind of music I like and the sports I play, the name of my favorite superhero, the title of my most loved book. I told her that family and friends are the most important things in life. I said doing the right thing does not always mean doing the easiest thing.

  I told her how much her mom and I loved her.

  I stuck a photo of all of us—myself, Kevin, Jack, and Sawyer—into the envelope with the letter: On the envelope I wrote: To London Fox-Laberge @ eighteen years old.

  I sealed the letter and sent it off to Ms. Yeung.

  It took a long time for everyone to come around and stop being sad about saying good-bye to London, but in the end, I am proud of how we handled ourselves.

  My mom made some quips about birth control, but I told her that I’d learned my lesson! It’s true. And the lesson I learned? I was as responsible as Sawyer for creating London.

  Last year is behind us now, and we are all moving on. Sawyer will graduate with honors. Jack lives above the coffee shop where he still works part-time while going to university and getting top marks. He’s doing his B.Sc with a major in Computer Science. He’ll ace it. He has a really nice boyfriend. He has stayed in contact with London’s parents, but that’s between them.

  Kevin will always miss his dad, but their kind of relationship is stronger than death.

  My mom will always hold London close to her heart, and it’s the same for my dad. We don’t talk about it, but we all think about that perfect baby girl.

  And me? I am looking forward to grade eleven next fall. I’ve been picked for the City soccer team and I’m pumped about that.

  If Mr. Croyden were here, I’d tell him this: I’ve kept my promise. I talk to Kevin about him all the time. I tell him that his father’s greatest accomplishment was being a dad. And I try to live well, like he asked me to. I think I finally understand what he meant when he told me to “be the right kind of man.”

  So, you could say that life is back to normal, but never a day goes by that I don’t think about my daughter, and I hope that never changes. More than that, I hope one day, when she is grown up, she’ll read my letter and she’ll know that we did what we did out of love.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank the following people for their comments, thoughts, encouragement and inspiration:

  My friend, coach and cheerleader, Joy Gugeler for her steadfast belief in me.

  My beta readers for their insightful observations and suggestions:

  Natalie Gates, Maya Pozzolo, Brittany G, Leslie-Ann Paige, Jessica Wilson, Catherine Charlebois, Janelle Armstrong, Molly Barneau, Clarice Lundeau, and Clayton Bambrough.

  Special thanks also to Stiwido Maelor, the International Writers’ Residency in Corris, Wales, for the precious gift of solitude and time that allowed me to dedicate weeks to the process of writing a novel.

  I am very grateful to my publisher, Second Story Press, and my skilled editor, Kathryn Cole, for their dedication to this novel and for putting it into the hands of readers.

  Huge thanks also to the Vancouver chapter of Shu
t Up and Write for making writing a quiet, yet extraordinary social experience.

  And finally, thank you to my family for your grace in walking this path with me yet again.

  About the Author

  Julie Burtinshaw is an award-winning author of novels for young adults, including The Darkness Between the Stars, The Perfect Cut, The Freedom of Jenny, Adrift, and Dead Reckoning. Julie writes with young people in mind because she insists on asking “why?” and so do they. She believes her readers face challenges with hope, and hardship with optimism. They are fighting to find their way in life—just like the characters in her books. Julie teaches writers’ workshops in high schools across Canada and lives in Vancouver, British Columbia. She is active on social media and encourages readers to contact her with questions and comments. You can find her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter @WriterJulie.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to future adults.

  Imagine all you can do.

  Copyright

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Burtinshaw, Julie, 1958-, author

  Saying good-bye to London / by Julie Burtinshaw.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-77260-029-2 (paperback).

  —ISBN 978-1-77260-030-8 (epub)

  I. Title.

  PS8553.U69623S29 2017 jC813'.6 C2016-907246-0

  C2016-907353-X

  Copyright © 2017 by Julie Burtinshaw

  Cover illustration © Katy Dockrill, i2iart.com

  Edited by Kathryn Cole, Carolyn Jackson

  Copyedited by Kelly Jones

  Design by Melissa Kaita

  Printed and bound in Canada

  Second Story Press gratefully acknowledges the support of the