Pregnant Pause (24 page)

"Mom?" I sniff and blow my nose. "Why?"

"She yelled at your mother. She said that all the Crowe women are defective. All the miscarriages, and now this."

"Sounds like she was really, really upset."

"Yeah, but Eleanor, I saw the baby. She's beautiful."

My heart skips a beat. "You did? She is?"

Leo pushes the package he brought toward me. "Here, this is for you. Something I made."

I pick up the package. It's wrapped in a grocery bag, and the Hannaford grocery name is right on the front of the package. It feels like it's soft inside. "I bet I know what this is," I say.

I tear open the package, and I find a knitted baby blanket in white and pink and yellow and blue pastels, with matching baby booties and a bonnet.

"Leo, you shouldn't have. They're so beautiful." I rub the blanket against my cheek. "And it's so soft. You're the sweetest, really. And look at you. Where did you get that coat and tie?"

"I brought it with me. I have a wedding to go to as soon as camp is over."

"But why do you have it on now?"

Leo shrugs. "I guess I thought it was a special occasion, so I wanted to dress up."

I shake my head and smile, even though I'm still crying and feeling sorry for myself. "You really are the weirdest, Leo."

My mom comes in, and she asks Leo if she and I can be alone, and I feel bad because Leo got all dressed up and brought me a gift and came all the way down here from the camp.

"I'd better go, anyway," Leo says.

"But I wanted to know about what's going on at the camp. Leo, last night—I was with Banner. I mean, not when she—not when she drowned, but earlier. I need to talk to you about it, okay? Will you come back?"

Leo nods. "Tomorrow's my day off. I'll stop by in the morning. I think the police will be talking to you. That's what Mr. Lothrop said. Haley told him you had been with Banner last night."

"The police? Oh, no, please. Why do they always have to pop up in my life?"

"They're just questioning everybody who might know something. It's pretty sad back at the camp right now."

"Yeah, I bet it is. I should be there. I feel like I should be there, which is strange, because this morning all I wanted to do was run away."

"I blame myself," Leo says. "I just didn't notice how much pain she was in. I knew she got picked on and she could drive you crazy the way she cowered and skulked around the crafts hut, but I just didn't pay her enough attention."

"You!" I'm so surprised to hear this. "Leo, you pay attention to everybody. If you didn't even know what was going on in her head, then I don't know who would. And anyway, you're not to blame. I am. For real. She told me about her parents not liking her and stuff, and I went and told her to just show 'em. And look what she did. She showed them all right. She showed all of us."

Leo hung his head and shook it. "You know who's really hurting is Ashley Wilson. She's going to need a lot of help getting over this." He looks at me. "I guess we all played a part in her suicide." He pats my leg. "I really need to get back now. I should be there. You take care."

I tell Leo to be sure to ask Ziggy to come see me tomorrow sometime, and he says he will. He kisses my forehead, and then he leaves.

I FORGOT that my mother was even in the room when I was talking to Leo. I'm embarrassed that she heard us talking about Banner.

She comes over and sits down on the side of my bed. She has this really sad look in her eyes. "It sounds like you have had a really hard day, Elly-belly. So you were close to this girl? This Banner?"

I shrug. "I guess. She confided in me, and I tried to help her. I tried to get her to loosen up in these dance classes I've been teaching." I look at my mom, and she looks surprised. Back when I lived in Kenya, I wouldn't do anything to help out at the orphanage. I wouldn't go near the place. I was a real pain in the butt to my parents, so I understand my mom's surprise.

"I know, me, teaching dance, or me teaching anything— what a laugh, huh? But Mom, I wasn't half bad, I don't think. I mean, I don't know much about real dance, but we just had fun in my class. The kids got some exercise and we had fun. Banner, I think, really loved my class."

Mom leans in and kisses my forehead the way Leo did, the way Ziggy did. "I'm proud of you, Eleanor. It sounds like you're really involved with those campers." She brushes back my hair with her hand.

I nod, and we sit together silently for a minute or so, and then I think about Emma Rose and I wonder why a nurse hasn't brought her in to see me yet.

"Leo said you heard about Emma Rose," I say.

"Who?" Mom looks puzzled. "Do you mean Banner?"

"No. Emma Rose—my baby."

Mom nods, and her face falls. She looks sad again.

"I want to see her. The nurse is supposed to bring her in."

"Elly, I don't think that's such a good idea, under the circumstances, do you? Maybe it's best if you don't see her." She takes a deep breath.

"Don't see her? But Mom, why?"

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I'm just so sorry."

Mom looks as if Emma Rose had been born without a head.

"But I want to see her. I need to see her. The doctor says she's precious, and Leo says she's beautiful. I want to see her."

Mom pats my hand, and I pull it away.

"Let's talk first."

"What's there to talk about, Mom? I already know about Sarah. She doesn't want the baby anymore. She's left, hasn't she? Is she coming back?"

"You can understand how upset she is, can't you, El? She was counting on this baby. She's got a nursery at home, and she's bought all kinds of baby clothes. She was counting on it more than any of us realized."

"Well, it's her own fault. I only told her today that I wanted her to have it, and I told her that the Lothrops wanted the baby, too, and now look, neither of them want her. Right? The Lothrops have already had one brain-damaged child, and they don't want another one, right?"

My mother nods.

"It's like she's damaged goods or something. They were swarming all over me when they thought I was giving birth to the perfect child, but really, what child is ever perfect? Look at Lam. Look at me. Look at Sarah, even. She's not so perfect. Oh, no, I see her in a whole new light now. She couldn't even stay and tell me herself that she no longer wanted the baby. Everybody just ran away soon as they heard about Emma Rose. So, it's not my fault. I never led her on in any way, Mom."

Mom nods and she's listening, but she's staring out the window. The blinds are open now, and I don't remember seeing anyone open them. I see mountains and a blue sky and sunshine. "I think I may have led her on," my mom says, bringing me back to attention. "Your father and I were so sure you'd come around, and you did. You did, Elly. You did the right thing offering your sister your baby."

Somehow I don't think so. I don't think saying it's the right thing is the right thing to say. It makes me feel funny. Is it right to just hand over your baby to someone else?

My mom has tears in her eyes, and it looks like she's really struggling to keep from letting go, and I think maybe she's heartbroken as much as Sarah is.

I take her hand in mine. They're rough hands. My mom works hard in Kenya. She likes the hard work, though. She's never been one to sit still.

"I'm really sorry I blew it again, Mom. Maybe this baby is—maybe I'm being punished for all the horrible things I've done."

Mom's face changes, and she looks suddenly exasperated with me. "Come on, Eleanor, it doesn't work like that. It just happened, okay?" She wipes her eyes and goes and gets a tissue and blows her nose, and it's like blowing her nose has cleared her thinking, too, because her voice changes and she sounds all businesslike all of a sudden. "Now, we need to make a decision about what we want to do about the baby. I was thinking of adoption."

Mom studies my face and waits for my reaction.

"Adoption? You mean
you
want her?"

Mom's eyes widen with horror. "No! No, Elly, I can't do that."

"But you work with African children with AIDS all the time. Emma Rose just has a different kind of problem."

"No, Eleanor," she says, and the way she says it, I know she means
No way, José.
"Working with orphans is not the same as adopting an infant. I'm not up for the challenge of raising a child with Down syndrome. And it
is
a challenge."

"So, who adopts her, then? The Lothrops? Sarah? Who?"

Mom straightens her back and takes another deep breath. "Elly, I think we should give her to an adoption agency."

"What?" I try to sit up straighter, too, only my gut hurts, so I fall back against my pillows again. "No, Ma. No way. What if she never got adopted? What would happen to her then? She'd be all alone—no. Not my baby. I want to see her. I want to see Emma Rose."

"Now, Elly, listen to me—"

"No! I want to see her. Have you had her taken away or something? I want her." I'm wailing now. "Please. Please let me see her. I have a right to see her. Mom, please!"

"All
right,
Eleanor!" Mom says. "All right, but you need to understand. Raising a child on your own, or even with Lam's help, at your age, would be such an uphill struggle, but a child with Down syndrome, it's just about impossible. She's always going to need special care—special doctors to look after her heart and her lungs and her eyes, special schooling to keep her on track, and her growth will be limited. She might not be able to do all the things you do—all the things you take for granted— reading and writing, and of course these specialists you'll need will cost lots of money. Think about it. Adoption is the best thing for her."

"Mom! I want to see her!"

Just as I say this, another mother is wheeled into the room. She's smiling, and her husband is walking beside her, holding her hand. "I'll bring your baby in in just a minute," the nurse says as she bustles around, helping the woman get herself settled.

I've stopped wailing and me and Mom just watch all this, and I know that that's the way it's supposed to be; a grown man and a grown woman, happily married, and happy about the birth of their perfectly made baby.

"Could you—could you bring me my baby, too?" I call out. The nurse looks at my mom instead of me, and my heart just stops. I'm so sure my mom has had the baby taken away already.

Mom smiles and nods, and the nurse nods back. "Okay, dear," she says, looking finally at me. "I'll be right in with her."

I can't wait. I just can't wait. A minute or two later, the nurse is back and she has a bundle in her arms, but it's the other woman's bundle. I'm just about ready to jump out of my skin, but then in walks another nurse with another bundle. My bundle.

The nurse walks toward me, and I stretch out my arms. She's carrying Emma Rose. She's bringing me my Emma Rose.

"Now, here we are," the nurse says. "A sweet baby girl."

I lift back the blanket and there she is, Emma Rose. She's perfect. She's perfect! She's got the sweetest little face with happy-looking eyes. They're so happy looking I laugh, and Mom comes and sits beside me and she laughs, too. Oh, and she has these perfectly tiny little hands with tiny little fingernails, and I touch her hand and it's so soft and warm. "Hey," I say, "I know you. And you know me, don't you, baby cakes? We've known each other for months, haven't we? Yes, we have." I lift her face to mine and feel her breath on my cheek.

Ah, Emma Rose. You're my baby girl. You came from me. You belong right here with me. I'll never abandon you. No, I will never give you away. No way. How silly to think that I ever considered it. I'm so glad Sarah's gone. I'm so glad she doesn't want you, because she can't have you, and neither can Lam's parents. Nobody can have you. You need me, and I need you.

"Are you planning to breastfeed?" the nurse asks me, and I see my mother shake her head, but I jump in and say, "Yes. Yes, that's what's best for the baby. I read about that. It gives the baby all kinds of health protection and stuff, but is it the same for a Down syndrome baby?"

"Oh, yes. It can be even more important. Breastfeeding is good for the baby's physical and mental development. It can make a difference all its life, but with a D.S. baby it's a bit more difficult to do."

I can hardly take my eyes off of Emma Rose, but I glance at the nurse and ask her what she means.

"A Down syndrome baby doesn't have as well-developed muscle tone, so she may have trouble sucking at first, but don't give up. You can supplement or use a breast pump for the first couple of weeks, and then I'm sure she'll be just fine on the nipple."

I think of how a couple of days ago if anyone had used sucking and nipple in the same sentence, it would be in some kind of dirty joke and I would be rolled over laughing, and now I'm listening to her like what she's saying is perfectly natural.

The nurse leaves, and I say right away, "Mom, I'm keeping her. I'm keeping Emma Rose. I have to. Look at her. She's perfect. Isn't she perfect?"

My mom shakes her head and tears up again. "Oh, Elly, do you always have to do everything the hard way? You just don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"But, Mom, look at her." I raise the baby up to her, and the baby makes this little tiny noise.

Mom takes the baby in her arms and smiles down at her. "She's precious. She is." She touches the baby's nose. And laughs.

"See? You love her already. So do I."

Mom stops laughing and tilts her head at me. "Of course I do. But honey, she needs more than what we can give her. You want the best for her. I know you do. Elly, think of your life. You're sixteen. You've got your own problems to deal with. Your husband got arrested today."

I look up, surprised.

"Yes, that's right. I know all about it," Mom says. "I also know you would have been arrested, too, if you weren't scheduled to have a baby this morning."

"But I was innocent. Really I was. Yeah, okay, I know I was considering it, but I wouldn't have done anything. I wouldn't have—I's wear!"

"See, Elly? There's doubt. You're still getting yourself into trouble. Even caring for a normal baby is beyond you right now, but a child with Down syndrome? Honey, you need to consider her life; her
whole
life, not just this moment and how cute she is."