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Authors: Catherine Madera

BOOK: Rain Shadow
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Bellissima.

 

 


 

 

 

Chapter 32

 

 

T

aylor pushed open the coffee shop door and immediately found Melissa slumped at a corner table. She met Taylor’s eyes but didn’t move.

“Hi.” Taylor slid into the chair across from Melissa, “I thought you weren’t supposed to drink coffee when you’re pregnant.”

“Doc says a cup or two a day is fine. This is my “two.” She took a tired sip from a
styrofoam container.

“Yikes,
styrofoam! That leaches toxins. Not good for baby.” Taylor reached for the cup, but Melissa held it away.

“I know, I know. This place ran out of regular cups. I need this treat, even though it’s swill. I swear, nobody knows how to make coffee.”

“Except you.” Taylor smiled, hoping to ease the anxiety on her
friend’s face. “And you’re going to have the best coffee stand in Bellingham.
So, how’d the appointment go?”

At three months pregnant, Melissa decided to make an adoption plan for her baby. She had called Taylor one night at 11 o’clock. They talked about babies and buying the coffee stand until the wee hours of the morning as Melissa wept and considered the options.

“I don’t know why those dumb counselors talk about “choices” … they’re all bad. I feel stuck.”

“I know.”

Breaking her vow to Rain, Taylor lit a cigarette and inhaled, grasping at the short lived euphoria of the nicotine as she held the phone to her ear. 

“Only a bad woman, a selfish woman, would give up her own baby. Sometimes an abortion seems better for the baby, too. Then it won’t grow up and know it wasn’t wanted. It will come look for me one day, Taylor, and what will I say?” Her voice cracked and she
hiccuped.

“What you will say is that you were young, and alone, and doing the best you can, Melissa.” Strength from somewhere and nowhere uncurled inside Taylor like a kite picked up by a strong wind. It flapped high above the ground, carried with unstoppable conviction. “You will say you loved that baby enough to give it a life. It’s going to rip your heart out, but you’re protecting life—the baby’s and your own.”

“How do you know that?”

Taylor waited, the silence on the phone an exclamation mark. She took a deep breath. “I just know, Melissa. Trust me.”

“It seems like now would be a good time to tell me how.”

Sometimes it’s good to air your secrets to another human being
.
Taylor thought of Jacob’s words. They sounded right and yet giving words to her experience would give life to it again. Words had power. God supposedly brought all of creation into existence with just words. That’s what talking about her abortion would do, give it life and breath and power. She couldn’t allow it to move of its own free will.

“I can’t talk about it, Melissa. Don’t take it personally.”

“I most certainl
y
d
o
take it personally,” she bristled, then simply sighed, “You gotta do what you gotta do. Will you at least go through this pregnancy with me if I make an adoption plan? Would you do that for me?”

“Like go to birthing classes and all that?”

“Yeah. And help me pick out parents.”

Something heavy settled in Taylor’s throat. She tried to swallow. But who else did Melissa have? No mother, no father. A grandmother with dementia could hardly be a support and Peter was busy saving the planet.

“Yes, I will be there for you.”

And so here she was, an hour before reporting to creepy Steve for another afternoon of Real Estat
e
Fro
m
Dummies. The man’s brief transformation into an authentic human being hadn’t lasted. Taylor assumed only Princess saw it on a regular basis.

“How was the adoption appointment?”

“They’re so nice it’s annoying.” Melissa cracked the top of her coffee and stirred it with a spoon. “They gave me cookies like I’m a kindergartner and told me I’m beautiful. Please.”

Taylor smiled. “Besides having good manners, what annoyed you so much?”

Melissa ignored her. “We looked at profiles of couples who are waiting for a child. I swear these people come from another planet: MBA this, engineer that. The women are perfect and motherly and just … annoying. I kinda liked this one couple, though,” her tone changed abruptly. “The guy’s a civil engineer and the wife is an interior decorator. They tried for ten years to have a child—in vitro, everything. Then the wife got ovarian cancer and it’s like a freakin’ miracle she lived and is no
w
totall
y
healthy. She can’t ever have a baby though. You should have read the story about why she wants a child. It was so honest and vulnerable.” Melissa’s voice dropped and became almost a whisper. “She decorates houses for millionaires in Seattle and stuff, but she’ll stay home for a baby. She talked about decorating a baby suite. A bab
y
suit
e
, Taylor.”

“Sounds perfect. What kind of adoption do they want?”

“They’ll do whatever I want the counselor said. They just want a child so bad. Isn’t it weird how the one thing that is devastating to my life is a miracle for somebody else? It makes it almost beautiful. Almost … ”

“Like you.” Taylor looked into Melissa’s eyes and saw tears beginning to glisten there.

Melissa shook her head and dropped her chin. “I could never be that kind of woman, that kind of mother. Look at me!”

“But you make
a
mea
n
cup of coffee.” Taylor reached over and grasped Melissa’s hands in her own. Tears swelled, blurring the room into softly moving shapes. “And you’re th
e
braves
t
person I know.” She squeezed Melissa’s hands, then dropped them and wiped at her eyes. “I’ve gotta go to the Shop of Horrors now. But call me if you want to talk about that family. Or whatever.”

“Okay.” Melissa remained lost in another world, but snapped suddenly
at attention when Taylor rose to leave. “Don’t forget the pregnancy and child birth class next Thursday night—you better be there.” She pointed an index finger at Taylor.

“I’ll be there.”

 

~ ~~

 

“You’re starting to do the duck walk.”

Taylor walked slightly behind Melissa as they made their way down the long trail that skirted Bellingham Bay. The serene surface of the ocean seemed to stretch to infinity before them, melting into a pastel skyline. Melissa threw a rock into the water disturbing the glassy surface into ripples that multiplied into endless undulating waves that marched out to sea.

“Rearrange your center of gravity and see what it does t
o
you
r
walk, smart ass.” Melissa flipped long locks of hair over her shoulder then adjusted her sagging jeans. “Bet I’ll really be doing a duck walk when I have to push this baby out.” She sighed deeply. Moving in wordless agreement they sat down on a bench beside the trail.

Melissa had drug her out for exercise with the excuse she already “looked like a small whale,” but Taylor knew she wanted to talk about the baby.

“It’s official, sort of.”

“What is?”

“The adoption. It’ll be open, but the parents don’t want me to contact
them. They have agreed to send me pictures and letters once a year.”

“That sounds pretty good.”


Nothin
g
sounds good.” Melissa appeared to be scanning the horizon,
a faraway look in her eye.
“Some days all I can think about is keeping this baby, which is so hilarious. I never thought of myself as the maternal type. The books say it’s hormones or something.”

“You started knitting or anything yet?”

“Cross stitch.”

Taylor laughed out loud. “Serious?”

“Don’t laugh; it’s your Christmas present this year.”

“It’s probably a skull and cross bones. On camouflage.”

Melissa shot her a look of mock horror. “You’ve ruined your surprise.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, each lost in a private world, until Melissa spoke again. “I did ask for something special in the adoption agreement.”

“Yeah?”

“The baby has to have ‘Taylor’ in the name somehow.”

“No way.” Taylor’s eyes began to sting. “You can’
t
mak
e
the parents legally give the child my name, can you?”

“No. But I told them you’re the reason they’re getting a baby and
they should never forget that. Taylor’s a cool, semi-trendy name, any
how. Not like I suggested ‘Mabel.’”

“Wow, I feel like a godmother or something … not that I’ll actually get to be one.”

The girls fell silent, each contemplating their losses. Taylor thought
of the three birthing classes she’d attended so far with Melissa and the expectations every person had, that they’d end up with the miracle of life after nine months. A baby didn’t affect just the one giving birth. There would be new grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. God
mothers. Since the abortion she’d avoided children and any thoughts of them. If it were not for a lowly coffee shop job a birthing class would be the last place on earth she’d willingly go. Literally.

She hadn’t expected to want to know Melissa’s baby, to hold it in her arms and kiss its tiny head. A tear trickled down her cheek and she felt a hand squeeze her knee.

“Anyway,” Melissa’s voice falsely brightened, “I gave the parents ideas for names. You know, some famous people have ‘Taylor’ in the name. James Taylor, for instance, and Elizabeth Taylor. Cool, huh?”

“Definitely cool.”

Taylor smiled at her friend. She wished bravery like Melissa’s could be purchased in a bottle and sprinkled on at will. “Thanks.”

 

 


 

 

 

Chapter 33

 

 

“F

reaking Sunday drivers!”

Taylor veered onto the shoulder of the road to avoid rear-ending the car in front of her. Lost in thought and oblivious to the red lights in front of her, she slammed on the brakes. Never mind that i
t
wa
s
a Sunday and she’d been shamelessly tail gating.

An arm appeared out of the driver’s side window of the car ahead, middle finger saluting her near miss. Drumming the steering wheel, Taylor scowled. Normally the weekly time at the shelter was a respite from life, but today she didn’t want to spend a morning with Liz. She wanted to stay in bed and ponder Jacob’s behavior. Ever since the wedding he’d been different, distant and unavailable. He canceled a scheduled ride with her on the way home and, shortly after, left an abbreviated message on voice mail. Even over the phone Taylor sensed his withdrawal from her life.
             

“I have to cancel our appointment,” he said, the “appointment” being a casual meeting to fit Rain with a new saddle. “My schedule is too busy.”

The new edge in his voice stung. It was the tone of a professional with firm boundaries on relationship, not the voice of a friend who teased her about being a klutz and told her she looked beautiful in a dress.

No matter what she told herself made sense, Taylor had not been able to stop her attraction to Jacob. His moment of vulnerability at the wedding only intensified her feelings, drawing her to him as surely as iron to a magnet. She wanted the other Jacob back, the one who fit like an “old shoe,” an especially attractive old shoe.

What would happen now
?
Taylor turned onto the street that fronted the shelter. He obviously didn’t feel the same way and no longer had time for her. As the days passed the sting of his rejection had begun to ache like a deep wound. Shallow cuts to the skin’s surface hurt for a little while, but the pain was nothing like a deep piercing. The worst cuts didn’t hurt until the body had a chance to realize the depth of its trauma.

In the end, Taylor knew it was her own fault. Jacob had just been trying to be nice and help her succeed with a horse he was invested in. It was mostly about Rain and always had been. He’d gone above and beyond the call of duty. As she pondered it Taylor remembered Evan—the hottest guy in junior high.

While most of their class stumbled into adolescence pimply and blushing, Evan remained cool and totally comfortable with the opposite sex. That he was also a nice guy only made every girl in the school want him more. Not that Taylor had given it serious thought. Evan was way out of her league; best to feign indifference and ignore him altogether. This worked well until freshman year of high school and the evening of the spring dance. Like every other girl in school, Taylor had dressed carefully and tried to play up her assets. She had traced her blue eyes with her mother’s smoky grey liner and donned lip gloss, secretly hoping for an invitation to dance. Some girls had dates and Evan was top on everyone’s list. Taylor had not considered asking him—or anyone—but had accepted her single status, convincing herself she preferred going alone.

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