STEPHEN'S SONG

There are mysteries lasting nine months never before explored or long since remembered.

BEGINNINGS

 

     Before that moment there was nothing.  The writhing creatures raced madly through the tunnel colliding and recoiling with chaos and panic.  Many did not survive the journey and fell beside the way but were not noticed as millions plummeted through the darkness with an instinct known only to migrating fowl and butterflies.  They crashed against the walls of the moist tunnel and were pushed forward by those behind them, rushing toward a place known only by secret awareness.

     Other millions of them never began the journey but were lost before entering the tunnel.  They would not achieve the goal for which they were made but it was always so and thus considered normal.  Those entering the channel realized their purpose and wriggled and squirmed forward, pushing against all that restrained them. 

     Suddenly the tunnel narrowed and turned sharply to the left.  Stampeding forward, most failed to enter and were lost within the wider space.  Only a few, perhaps a dozen, moved forward in the more confined entry and drifted from one side to the other in search of something they did not yet know.  At last, the chosen one touched the surface of the goal and its head opened upon contact, releasing a substance that somehow softened the surface.  There was a long struggle as it continued trying to rupture the surface and settle within.  After about twenty minutes, it was successful and a miracle had begun.

     It was in that moment Stephen was created.  The egg had been fertilized and the process of him becoming what he was supposed to be began.  In that infinitesimal spark, his spirit became energy and both would guide him throughout all his days.  He could not think or reason but somehow knew what was expressed only as, “I am.”  Capsulized within the spark of his new existence were memories of what he had known before.  Those recollections would be ingrained into his spirit and forever kept secret from his conscious self.

     Sally was not aware of the drama taking place within her.  In the week after she and Mark had made love, the estrogen and progesterone increased in her bloodstream and a lush, red lining was being created in her uterus in case one of her eggs had been fertilized. 

     Shortly before, eggs were becoming ripe in her ovaries and one egg escaped from its follicle and was rushed away from the ovary and into her Fallopian tube.

It waited there in case one of the 250 million sperm Mark had ejaculated was able to make the journey from the vagina, through the cervix, upward into the uterus and then into the Fallopian tube where it might penetrate the egg.  Only about 400 sperm of the 250 million survived the journey that required ten hours to complete.

     Sally did not know that the sperm had connected to the egg and that it carried a Y chromosome that would identify her child as a boy.  She was not aware when the fertilized egg separated into sixteen cells and started burrowing into the rich lining of her uterus where it would begin the growth process.  She could only hope that none of it was happening.

     It was weeks later when she returned from the store, placed the bags on the table and tore a page from the calendar with a frown at the sight of a new month.  She had always been clockwork dependable and now ten days had passed beyond when she was supposed to begin.  Reaching into one of the bags, she retrieved the pregnancy test kit and sighed a deep sound of resignation.

     In the bathroom she collected a sample of her urine in a paper cup.  From the test she pulled a long tab and read the directions.  One line appearing in the window of the tab meant she was not pregnant.  Two lines indicated she was.  Slowly and with a soft, muttered prayer, she dipped the tab into the urine and kept it there for about five seconds as the directions had suggested.  Pulling it out of the urine, she had her eyes closed as if not wanting to see the result.  Tightening her lips, she heaved a deep sigh and opened her eyes to see the two distinct lines. 

     “Oh, God,” she moaned, “I’m pregnant.”

     For a long while she sat on the toilet, staring vacantly at the test.  How would she tell Mark?  What would be his reaction?  She hoped he would be elated but somehow realized it was not probable.  In that moment she did something she would repeat thousands of times in the weeks to come.  She placed her hands on her stomach and whispered, “It’s not your fault.  We’ll get through this somehow.”

     She had planned to tell Mark that evening when he returned from work.  He entered in a nasty mood, however, ranting about his “idiot supervisor” and what he would do if he didn’t need the job so desperately.  Sally could only try to be pleasant and give him positive words that seemed to soothe him.  Understanding his frustrations about working at a job he didn’t like, she was not going to add to his troubles with her announcement.

     The days passed and she had said nothing.  There had never been that right moment when the words would come easily and be heard with a sense of true understanding.  The following day, after Mark had left, she would be upset with herself for allowing opportunities to pass in silence.  Sitting at the kitchen table, she pondered the plight they faced.  They had been married three years and still lived in a rented flat with one bedroom.  The wallpaper sagged at the corners and the floor squeaked when entering the bedroom.  The old gas range had brown stains around the burners and the refrigerator rattled before kicking in.  She looked around the room and suddenly realized that they had very little.  Only an occasional piece of furniture was theirs and the car they had used to go on dates was sitting below in the street in need of a transmission seal that they couldn’t afford.  The landlord was always surly because they paid half the rent every two weeks because it was too much for one paycheck.  In the midst of her disparaging analysis of their condition, she heard the light rapping on the door and closed her eyes and pinched her face into an expression of despair.

     Pulling the security chain from the door, she opened it and faked a smile.  “Hello, mother.”

     The woman held Sally’s shoulders and kissed her cheek lightly.  “It’s cold in here,” said her mother, “isn’t the radiator working again?”

     Sally did not reply but moved to the radiator and turned the knob.  It clamored for a brief moment and shivered before hissing into action.

     “Want some coffee?” asked Sally.

     “If you have some,” came her mother’s reply and Sally knew the secret meaning.  It was a way of saying she probably didn’t have any coffee considering the quality of her life.

     The flame was ignited beneath the pot and Sally went to the table where her mother had taken a chair and was staring at the worn linoleum.

     “How’s dad?” asked Sally.

     “Still trying to find something to fill his time,” said her mother.  “I think he regrets retiring.  Now he’s taken up golf, can you believe that?  He’s on the course now.”

     Sally forced another smile.  “I think it’s good for him.  He needs an activity and golf gives him some exercise, too.”

     Watching her daughter probe for cups in the faded cabinet, the woman sighed, “Well, thank goodness he planned for the future.  Now he doesn’t have to work and we can relax.”

     Sally was now adept at reading the coded messages her mother was so expert at forming.  Yes, her father had planned for the future which opened the door to inquire about what plans she and Mark were making for a future that would come upon them all too quickly.  She had also learned to ignore most of them but occasionally one was especially pointed and brought her to the edge of outright anger. 

     Their relationship had always been strained.  For some reason she could never explain, she called the woman Barbara as often as she did, Mother.  It had never seemed unusual but as Sally grew older and had her own life, it seemed to express the lasting distance between them.

     She busied herself pouring the coffee and putting cream and sugar on the table.

     “So,” her mother began, stirring the cup noisily, “have you given thought about going back to college?”

     “Not really,” replied Sally.

     Her mother even drank coffee with a hint of drama and her little finger extended delicately.  “Well, don’t you think you should?”

     “Should what?” asked Sally not as a question but as an open challenge.

     “Think about finishing your studies, of course.”

     Sally thought it best not to answer and sipped of her cup with a stern expression of resolve.  She would love to go back to school, of course, and had planned on doing it before “this” happened.  Now it would be impossible and she would have to concentrate on being a mother.

     “I brought you something,” her mother said and searched in her ample purse until pulling out a small brown envelope.  She pushed it across the table with a tight smile.

     “I don’t need your money, Barbara,” said Sally, staring at the envelope and returning to her coffee.

     “It’s not much,” the woman replied, “but it’ll help see you through.”

     Sally regretted saying it as soon as the words left her lips, “See me through what?”

     Her mother tilted her head the way she did to express her curiosity.  The thin smile remained pasted on her lips.  “I assume you have bills, dear.  You have that antenna thing on your television so I assume they’ve cut the cable service.  It’s for things like that but don’t be upset with me.  I’m only trying to help.”

     Sally clenched her jaw and forced herself to a level of control.  “I remember studying about a poet.  He wrote some of the most wonderful poems I’ve ever read and they were all about one woman in his past.  Later, they married and he was very successful.  They had a large home; it was more like an estate, really.  But the time they remembered most; the time they remembered best, was when they drank cheap wine and ate bread and cheese on a table they made from cardboard boxes in a little apartment in Italy.”

     Her mother pinched another smile and nodded.  “I know what you’re saying, dear, and it’s all very romantic but people still need to eat, pay their bills and move forward.  There’s no other way.  If you had your degree you could work in a law firm and help Mark.  You’d probably earn more than him and you could move out of this place."

     “Mom,” Sally began but was immediately interrupted.

     “We could help, dear.  The tuition and books, we could help with all that.”

     “Mom, I’m pregnant,” the words exploded from Sally’s lips and she watched her mother pale with the sound.

     “Oh, dear Lord!” the woman exclaimed.  “I knew something like this would happen.  How far along are you?”

     Sally shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I haven’t gone to a doctor yet.”

     Her mother’s face hardened beneath a deep frown.  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Sally.  You have to be able to take care of your needs!  You have to go to a doctor now!  Do you want me to call Dr. Ambrose?”

     “No,” said Sally.  “We’ll take care of it.”

     “Where?  At the free clinic?  Are you going to keep it?”

     Sally’s mouth sagged in surprise.  “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked.

     “Well, you can’t raise a baby here!”

     “Babies have been raised in caves,” snapped Sally.  “What’s important is that they feel loved.”

     Her mother snorted her usual sound of disapproval and asked, “What does Mark say about it?”

     “I haven’t told him,” replied Sally.

     “Well, don’t you think you should?”

     Sally’s knuckles whitened around her cup.  “Yes, I know I should but I have to wait for the right moment.”

     The elder woman was wringing her hands in despair and glancing about as if searching for a solution within the walls.  “Amanda Albright, do you remember her?”

     “Yes,” said Sally.

     “She has a guest house that isn’t being used.  I think I could make some agreement with her about rent.  At least it would be a warm place with conveniences.”

     “No, mother,” said Sally.  “We don’t want to live in her guest house.  This is our home.”

     Once more the woman glanced about her with an obvious scowl.  “This is not a home, Sally.  Not for a baby at least.  This is a cold water flat in a dreadful tenement.  Now you’re going to have to listen to reason before you get too far along.”

     The more the woman spoke, the more determined was her tone.  She was a mother again instructing a vulnerable child and Sally did not like it.

     “What next?” she asked abruptly.  “It’s about now that you start talking about Bernie Kirshbaum, right?”

     “Don’t get snide,” her mother ordered, “and there was certainly nothing wrong with Bernie.  He has his own business and a lovely home.  You could have had a very comfortable life.”

     Sally laughed bitterly.  “Why didn’t you just put a price tag around my neck and sell me to the highest bidder?  Whoever had enough money, I would have had a comfortable life, right?”

     “Don’t be ridiculous,” the woman countered. 

     “I’m not,” countered Sally, “I’m planning for my future and getting a life of comfort; on the marriage block like a piece of meat.  That would have made everyone happy, no?”

     Having spoken so candidly, Sally pushed the envelope back toward her mother.

     The woman’s expression turned icy and she stuffed the envelope into her purse.  “You can be so unreasonable at times,” she complained.

     “It’s just that I’m thrilled to see you rejoicing that you’re going to be a grandmother,” she answered bitterly.

     “Of course I’m pleased!” her mother lied and lifted the cup to her lips again and gave a sour expression.  “It’s cold.”  Standing, she looked about and asked, “You don’t have a microwave?”

     “Give me the cup,” snarled Sally and lit the burner under the coffee pot again.

     All the while her mother continued her assessment of her surroundings.  “Where can you put a crib here?  And it’ll certainly need to be warmer than it is now.  Babies are very delicate.  I don’t know if you’re aware of what you’re getting into.  This isn’t like having a Barbie doll.  Getting up all hours of the night and walking a baby with cholic.  Do you have any idea how much diapers cost?”

     Sally turned suddenly from the stove with an expression of disbelief.  “You want me to get an abortion!”

     “I never said that,” insisted her mother.  “I’m just saying that being a mother isn’t an easy job and you need to be certain you’re prepared for it, emotionally and financially.”

     “And you don’t think I am.”

     “I didn’t say that, either!  I just want you to think things through very carefully.”

     Sally poured the steaming brew and placed the cup in front of the woman.  “I’m going to have this baby and if it’s difficult, then it’ll be difficult.  It’s my baby and I’ll love it and walk all night with it if I have to and when it’s old enough to move on and have its own life, I’ll step out of it gracefully and let it find happiness in any way it wants.”

     Her mother lifted her eyebrows in that way she had to express her offense.  “I’m sorry,” she said coldly, “I didn’t know being concerned was an intrusion.”  She added more sugar to her coffee and again rattled the spoon within the cup to Sally’s annoyance.

     “Look,” said Sally, settling into a chair across the table.  “I don’t want to fight with you. We’ve done too much of that already.  I’m confused right now and yeah, I’m worried.  But we have our problems and you have yours, Barbara.  Sure, mine is how to pay the rent and yours is how to find a fourth for your bridge tournament but we handle them as best we can.

     “I’m not going to let this baby be made into a problem.  I don’t want it coming into this world with something so negative.  We’ll work it out somehow because that’s what parents do.”

     Her mother listened intently and stiffly nodded.  “I won’t apologize for objecting to the idea of my grandchild living in a place like this, Sally.  I suffer enough knowing that you live here.  If you really want to be a good mother, one of the first things you need to do is find a better place to live.”

     Sally responded without a hint of sincerity, “Okay.”  How would they find a better place?  With what?  Mark’s salary barely kept them alive from one week to the next and now there would be another, more expensive mouth to feed.  “I’ll try,” she added and knew it was untrue.

     Through the conversation that followed, Sally was disappointed at her mother’s apparent discontent with her pregnancy.  Before leaving, the woman merely said, “Let me know when you find out if it’s a boy or girl.”  There was the traditional light kiss on the cheek and a warning to take good care of herself and the closing of the door.  Minutes later, Sally saw the brown envelope that had been pushed under the door as she knew it would be.

     With the prospect of having a child, Sally found it difficult to admit her mother was right.  The apartment may have been good enough for a young couple in love, starting out their lives together but now there would be another person to consider.  Where would she put a crib?  Everything in the flat was done with an accent on economy and space was one of them.  There were so many things they would need.  A stroller, a carriage, crib, clothes, booties, blankets, bibs, a baby bathtub; the list seemed endless.

     Would she breast feed?  There were special bras for breast feeding; another expense.  If she used formula she would need a breast pump; same difference.  There would be one of those musical mobiles for the crib.  She always like them.  Baby bottles would be eventually needed and one of those special pots to sterilize them. 

     Where would it all come from?  Was her mother right and they had not really considered the cost of parenting?  Should she consider abortion?  She could, after all, have an abortion and never say anything to Mark.  On second thought she could never keep a secret like that from him.  She couldn’t live with the idea of it.  But would he agree with an abortion?  She didn’t like to think of the answer.

     It wasn’t done consciously, but she prepared one of Mark’s favorite dishes and was pleased when he returned that evening in a better mood than usual.  He appeared, in fact, in very good spirits.

     “I met Ralph in the hall,” he told her between bites.  “He asked if I was going to watch the Knicks game and I told him we didn’t have cable anymore.  Know what he said?”

     “No,” replied Sally, “what?”

     “He said he had a long piece of cable and we could hook up with his cable.  Now we can watch some movies instead of that crap on the free channels.”

     “That’s nice,” she agreed.

     “What’s wrong? You’re awfully quiet,” said Mark.

     She lifted her eyes to his face and couldn’t help but smile.  Mark was truly handsome with that spark of innocence about him that she found incredibly appealing.

     “Are you sure you want to know?” she asked.

     Mark leaned back in the chair and sighed deeply.  “Your mother,” he observed, “she got under your skin again.”

     Sally nodded, “Yeah, she was here,” she confirmed, “and it was the usual battle with her having the last word by shoving a hundred dollars under the door.”

     “I’m sorry, hon,” Mark offered sympathetically.

     “It’s hard to stay mad at her when we need the money so much,” Sally opined.  “And she’s so damned clever.  She knows we need the cash and that we’re going to need her even more in the future.”

     Mark shook his head and held up his hand as if saying ‘halt’. “Maybe not,” he said eagerly.  “There’s a foreman position opening up soon and I’ve got a few months seniority over the other guys up for it.  If that happens, we’ll be in good shape.”

     Sally swallowed hard and tried to keep the tears from filling her eyes.  “I’m pregnant, Mark,” she offered abruptly.  When she watched his eyes widen and his expression go flat, she added, “Please don’t ask me if I’m sure.  Please don’t.”

     He nodded slowly, “Okay.  They can tell if it’s a boy or girl, can’t they?”

     It was not the response she expected and she could no longer contain the tears.  She had been so certain he would be appalled with the news that she wanted to take him into her arms and thank God he was in her life.  She moved to his side of the table and sat on his lap, putting her arms around his neck.  “Yeah, they can tell but not right now.  In a few weeks.  Why, what do you want?”

     He grinned widely and his eyes glistened.  “I want a kid who will grow to be seven feet tall and be a center for the Knicks.”

     “Oh, sure,” she teased, “like we’re giving him the genes for that!”

     Mark shrugged.  “It’s just that every time one of those All Stars sign an NBA contract, the first thing they do is buy their parents a big home.  Nothing wrong with that.”

     “Stop kidding around,” she commanded.  “What do you think about being called Daddy?”

     He pretended to think for a moment.  “Who’s calling me that, the kid or you?”

     “The kid,” she said with a light giggle.

     “Not bad,” he surmised, “not bad at all.  I kinda’ like the sound of it.  And look,” he said as he tightened his arms around her, “I’ve got insurance a work so the doctor and hospital’s pretty much covered except for the deductible.  If we have to, we can go the Goodwill route and find some baby furniture to clean up and paint.  I don’t think it’ll be all that bad.”

     She pressed her cheek against his chest and ran her fingers over his cheek.  “I was so afraid you wouldn’t want a baby,” she confessed.  “I was terrified to tell you.”

     She felt his fingers moving through her hair and she smiled with the sense of it.  “And what about you?” he asked.  “How do you feel about being a Mama?”

     “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “It hasn’t soaked in yet.  I know I’m scared.”  She moved away slightly to see his face and she explored it with eyes filled with doubt.  “I’ve read how a baby changes everything.  How couples drift apart because the baby becomes more important than each other.  Promise me that won’t happen.  I know a baby takes a lot of time and energy but we can’t take that away from each other.”

     “I promise,” he whispered and put his hand on her stomach and widened his smile.

Three more weeks passed before she went to a doctor.  Mark had brought the medical forms home and when she surveyed the fine print, she noticed the items the insurance would not cover.  That afternoon she went to the free clinic and was surprised at the efficiency and courtesies she received.  A brief examination produced a smiling doctor announcing that yes, she was indeed pregnant.

She told Mark of what she had done and noted his expression of disappointment.  He felt that he was not fulfilling his responsibilities as a husband and future father.

“It’s okay,” she said with a gentle smile.  “They really treated me well and they have all the modern equipment and everything.  Why spend money we don’t have when I can have good care without a charge?  We can use the insurance for the delivery but the pre-natal can be done at the clinic with no problem.”

“Sure,” he answered sourly, “and your mother?”

“I’ll lie,” said Sally cheerfully.  “It won’t be the first time.  Remember when I got home a couple hours past curfew with grass in my hair?  Remember?”

“You told her you had fallen down and hurt your ankle and I helped you get home,” he recalled with a slight smile.  “She’s hated me ever since.”

They laughed together and she settled into his arms with a soft sound of contentment.  “We’ll be good parents,” she said thoughtfully.  “Our baby was made from love and that’s important.  I think maybe a baby knows when it’s an accident or not wanted.”

“It better have your looks and my brains,” said Mark.

“Oh yeah?” she teased, “and why is that?”

“Because if it’s reversed, imagine the poor thing!”

She took a pillow from the sofa and hit him in protest but they laughed and languished in each other’s arms until the night closed in about them.

It was the following morning that Sally was washing the breakfast dishes when the nausea came upon her.  She felt the bile moving upward and rushed to the bathroom where she huddled over the toilet and made deep, anguished sounds.  She could smell the vomit floating in the water and reached for a towel to wipe her mouth and move over her sweating brow. 

Slowly she settled onto the floor and her breaths were labored and jerky.  It was in that moment it happened.

“Mama?” she understood as a message from inside her.

It was not a sound formed of spoken words, rather an awareness of something said without speech and she was frightened with the recognition of it.

She had almost convinced herself that a hallucination had accompanied her distress and was ready to push herself up from the floor when it came again, “Mama?”

Sally closed her eyes swallowed hard with fear but forced the voice of her mind to ask, “Is it you?”

“Are you alright, Mama?” it asked.

Sally was jolted with the realization that it was neither a dream nor hallucination.  She had actually received a question from a place she could not identify and she openly trembled as she pressed her back against the wall with alarm.

“I’m okay.  How are you?”

“I was scared, Mama.  All that made big noises in here.”

Sally covered her mouth in shock and said aloud, “Oh, my God!”  She scrambled to her feet and leaned over the sink, splashing cold water over her face.  “My God, what’s happening?” she asked aloud.

Slowly, with a terrifying awareness that she had to discover what was occurring, she forced herself to ask, “Who are you?”

“I don’t know,” came the reply, “I don’t have a name.”

Sally watched her hand trembling and leaned over the sink, watching her face in the mirror.  “Do you know if you’re a boy or girl?” she inquired nervously.

“I’m a boy,” came the frail voice.

She moved her eyes over the walls of the bathroom, wondering if madness had set in upon her.  There was nothing normal about what was happening and yet, she was positive it was real.

“I said that if you were a boy, I would name you Stephen,” she messaged.

“I like that, Mama.  Stephen, I like that.”

“Good,” she told him.  “Can you tell me how you are communicating with me?  Is this really happening?”

There was a slight pause and she was suddenly afraid that the conversation would be ended.

“You don’t know?” Stephen finally inquired.

“No, I don’t understand any of this,” she confessed.

“Mamas can talk with their babies.  You didn’t know that?”

She frowned deeply with the thought.  “All mothers?  I’ve never read anything about that.”

There was a soft sound that she would have sworn was a giggle. 

“They don’t remember it afterward, Mama.  It’s just for the time the baby’s inside.”

She could not control the quaking of her hands and voice.  “Are you sure this is real?” she asked.

“It’s real for me,” said Stephen.

“And we will talk like this for the months ahead?”

“Yes,” said Stephen.  “I’m sleepy, Mama.”

“Stephen, please,” she said, “promise me that this isn’t a trick my mind’s playing on me.  I’m not asleep and I’ll wake up soon.”

“We’ll talk, Mama.  I need to sleep.”

She nodded slowly, her mouth agape with bewilderment.  “Then sleep, baby.  You go to sleep.

 

AWARENESS

 

They had settled into the bed and Sally watched the red and green neon of a bar across the street flash against the wall.  She turned to her side and pressed against Mark’s back.

     “Can I tell you something?” she whispered.

     “Sure,” he replied.

     Her mouth opened to tell him about Stephen but she decided that it must remain a secret.  No one would believe it, not even Mark.  What was happening would have to be kept private between her and her son.

     “I love you,” she said instead and she heard him sigh and pull her arm around his waist.

     “I’m glad,” he told her, “because I love you both.”

     She smiled broadly in the darkness.  It was the first time she had heard herself identified with her son.  She pressed her palm against his chest and kissed his back.

     “I’m going to give you a son,” she told him confidently.  “He won’t be seven feet tall but he’ll be a great kid, I promise.”

     “The doctor told you?” he asked with a sound of excitement.

     “No, Mark,” she whispered.  “I just know.”

     At a thrift shop she found a wide assortment of used baby clothes and delighted in selecting the blue items and imagining Stephen in them.  There was even one of the musical mobiles she had wanted and even though the batteries were corroded inside, Mark soon had it clean and functioning.  Slowly, bit by bit, they were preparing for their son to come home.

     “Hey, with all this blue stuff,” asked Mark, “what if it’s a girl?”

     “It’s not,” she said knowingly and continued folding the baby clothes she had washed and placing them gently into a drawer.  She and Mark would now share a drawer for their underwear but Stephen needed his own space.

     It was in the private moments that Sally found true enjoyment.  In the early days her conversations with Stephen were constantly interrupted by his need to sleep.  When awake, however, she was astounded by his questions and opinions.

     “Do you have hair?” she asked.

     “Yes.”

     “What color?”

     She distinctly heard him giggle this time.  “I don’t know, Mama.  I can’t see my hair.”

     One day after another of her mother’s visits, Stephen asked, “Mama, who was that woman?”

     “That was your grandmother, Stephen,” she said.

     “She doesn’t sound happy,” he observed.  “I think she was one of those who didn’t want to be here.”

     Sally frowned and asked, “What do you mean?”

     “Some don’t want to be here, Mama. They want to go back to where we were.  Then they’re unhappy for the time they’re here.”

     The idea intrigued Sally and she sat down and thought for a long moment before continuing, “And where were you before coming here, Stephen?”

     After a long silence, the voice came delicately and fragile.  “I don’t know.  I’m forgetting.”

     “Do you want to be here, Stephen?” she asked.

     “Yes, Mama.  I think my time will be good.”

     She thought the answer was far more complex than the words composing it.  Stephen didn’t say that he would have a good time, no, he thought his time would be good.  It sounded as if each person had an allotment of time and he somehow knew it.  She also gave thought to the idea that Stephen, and indeed all babies, had been somewhere before growing from a fertilized egg.  She had never allowed her imagination to entertain such an idea but now it was compelling and gave her a new and probing perspective on life.

     “I think you’re right, Stephen,” she messaged.  “I don’t ever remember your grandmother ever really being happy.”

     The tone of the response was more compassionate than usual and she was in awe.  “Don’t feel sorry for me, Mama.  Many children don’t have grandparents.”

     At that exact moment she had been thinking of how sad it was that her son would not have that loving grandmother image so common to normal families.  She was stunned that Stephen was apparently aware of her thought and had responded to it so perfectly.

     “That’s true, Stephen,” she answered, “but it would be nice if you could have a grandmother a little more sensitive.”

     “Does Daddy have a Mama and Papa?” he asked and Sally was enthralled that Stephen had finally referred to his daddy.

     “Yes honey, but they live far away.  You’ll meet them one day.”  Sally leaned against the arm of the chair and whispered a thought.  “Stephen?  Can you tell me what it’s like in there?”

     She knew he was thinking and perhaps even exploring his surroundings in preparing his answer.  “It’s warm.  It feels good all the time because I’m very safe here.  I can hear you breath.  I can hear the air rush in and out of your lungs.  I’ve gotten used to the sound of your heart but it was very loud at first.  I can hear music from somewhere.  I can hear you hum and I can see light.”

     Sally listened and thought of her morning routine with the radio playing as she washed dishes.  The sun came through the kitchen window and obviously through her flesh and into the womb. 

“I like most of it.  I am starting to taste what you eat and I don’t like it when you’re hungry and your stomach makes sounds,” continued Stephen.  “The warm water when you are washing feels good but it makes a big noise in here.”

She had never thought that the water falling from the shower head and onto her stomach would be felt or heard by her child.  She smiled gently with the thought.

  I like it here, Mama.  You are a good place for me to be.”

     Sally had her hands pressed over her mouth with emotion as he thought of her as a “good place to be.”  It was so endearing and humbling.  She was astonished that he was so acutely aware of so many things.  It was then she realized that the deep, gnawing feeling she experienced was the love of a mother and she knew in that moment it would never go away.

     “You’re so little now, Stephen,” she whispered.  “I promise I will take good care of you always.”

     “I know,” he replied. 

     Stephen took long naps throughout the day and often Sally had trouble going to sleep at night because she was thinking of what it would be like to have him in her arms.  Sometimes she could almost feel him and smell the talcum powder.  Instinctively she knew that he would always have that profound glint to his eye telling her that they would always share their secret.

     At the clinic, the doctor assured her that everything was progressing as it should and her morning sickness would end in a few weeks.  She was especially concerned about the nausea not because it was such a discomfort, rather that Stephen was troubled by it.  She inquired even though she had noticed that it was not occurring as regularly as before.     She eliminated items from her weekly shopping list to have extra money to spend at the thrift store.  Soon she would need maternity blouses and new bras.  Fortunately, there was an abundance of items on the racks and she assumed that women saw no need for them after giving birth and watching their babies grow. There were countless toy items as well and she found herself looking at a box designed to teach the alphabet and asking, “Stephen, would you like this?”

     “What is it?”

     “I’m sorry,” she replied with an embarrassed laugh.  “I can’t explain it to you right now.”

     It was on that day as she was leaving the thrift store with her arms laden with baby clothes that a woman called, “Miss?”  Sally turned to see a tall, thin woman elegantly dressed and stepping from a luxury car.  She was older, Sally estimated probably in her fifties, but still strikingly attractive. “Excuse me,” she said, “but I see the things you have in your arms.  Are you expecting?”

     Sally nodded with a broad smile.

     “Look,” the woman continued, “I have a ton of new things in the car.  I was going to donate them to the store but if you could use them . . . .”

     Sally laughed nervously and gasped, “Really?”

     “What do you say?  Can you use them?” asked the woman with warm, caring tones. 

     “Oh, yes!” Sally responded excitedly.  “I’d be so grateful!”

     “No need for that,” the woman replied, “where’s your car?”

     Sally felt her hopes sink with the question and she lowered her eyes sadly saying, “I don’t have one.  It broke down.”

Sally’s eyes moved to the car and she could see the headboard of         crib through the window.  Slowly she moved to the auto and gazed inside.  

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly.

She felt the woman’s hand on her shoulder and turned as a tear escaped the corner of her eye.

“Okay,” the woman told her, “if you don’t have a car, you can’t live far from here.  I can give you a ride and we can unload these things at your house.”

“You’d do that?” Sally asked incredulously.  “You don’t know what it would mean to me!”

“Yes I do,” said the woman, “get in.”

Following Sally’s directions, the woman parked in front of the brownstone and watched as Sally shrugged apologetically, “It’s two flights up.”

“Then let’s get busy,” said the woman.

It required three trips to bring everything into the apartment.  Sally simply stood there examining the array of items with her hand over her mouth in astonishment.  A beautiful crib with a canopy, boxes filled with baby clothes with price tags still on them, toys of all types sprawled before her.  She could no longer contain herself and she started to cry with joy.

The woman moved forward and pulled Sally into her arms.  “Hey now,” she said soothingly, “we can’t have that.”

“It’s just that everything there,” she said with jerky breaths, “is everything we needed.  We didn’t know if we could buy everything before the baby came and now you’ve been so kind.”

“There’s a lot of yellow stuff because we didn’t know if it would be a boy or girl,” the woman said and quickly added.  “Can I have a glass of water?  Those stairs . . .”

Sally nodded and quickly moved to the sink and asked, “I’ve got fresh coffee.”

“That sounds great,” the woman said, “I’m Elizabeth, by the way.  Elizabeth Warrington.”

Sally moved forward with her hand extended in greeting.  “Sally Timmons.  Here, sit down, please.”

Within minutes they were putting milk and sugar into the cups when Elizabeth looked up, saying, “You must be wondering.  About all those things, I mean.”

Sally shrugged slightly, “I was afraid to ask,” she confessed.

“I have a daughter, Andrea.  We call her Andie.  She’s seventeen and a few weeks ago she gave us the news parents never want to hear.  She was pregnant and was embarrassed and afraid.  Allen and I, my husband, talked and we decided that we would make no judgments but would be as supportive as possible.  We turned the guest room into a nursery and bought everything Andie and the baby would need. 

“I have to admit it was fun.  The idea of being a grandmother really went to my heart.  And then Andie came home for the weekend . . . oh, I forgot to mention she’s in college . . . first year at State . . . she came home and told us she had an abortion.”

Sally’s face reflected pain as she offered softly, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Maybe it was for the best,” said Elizabeth.  “She said that the reaction of her boyfriend when she told him she was pregnant was enough to convince her not to have a child at this point in her life.  We were sad but I guess you have to realize that your children have their right to their own lives.”

Sally chuckled lightly.  “I wish my mother could learn that.”

“Well, it’s not an easy lesson,” offered Elizabeth with a warm smile.  “She still wants to hold onto her little girl, huh?”

Sally shrugged with a nervous laugh.  “I don’t know what she wants, really.  I think sometimes she wants us to have everything she and my dad has in the three years we’ve been married.  She comes to visit and it’s all the little hidden meaning comments about this apartment, Mark’s job, me going back to school, almost everything.  It gets difficult sometimes.”

They shared a moment of warm silence before Elizabeth advised, “You know Sally, when you find out your daughter is pregnant, it brings back all those warm, fuzzy feelings.  You want to share them with her and sometimes you forget the limits.  Maybe that’s what happens with your mother.”

“I don’t know,” confessed Sally, “and in some ways I know she’s right.  This isn’t the best place to have a new baby but it’s the best we can do right now.  My husband’s a laborer and doesn’t earn much and it’s hard sometimes to make ends meet.”

Elizabeth leaned back and put an arm over the back of the chair.  “We would lie in the tall grass and watch fireflies dance against the tent of night, then race madly to catch the last train home where we would eat bread and cheese and drink cheap wine on the table we made from boxes.  And life was young, alive and beautiful because it was Sunday, and you loved Sunday.”

     “That’s my absolute favorite poem!” exclaimed Sally. 

Elizabeth smiled, “Really?”

“Oh yes!”

Looking about the apartment, the woman pursed her lips and nodded.  “You’ll do just fine here.  It could use a little touching up, of course, but it doesn’t matter if it’s a small apartment or a mansion, in the end we all live in boxes.  If these walls are holding in all the love inside, everything will be just fine.”

“That’s what I’ve always felt,” replied Sally as she

glanced toward the boxes.

     Elizabeth was very observant and suddenly said, “Why don’t we take a peek at the stuff, okay?”

Opening the boxes Sally found one filled with packages of newborn diapers.  There were dozens of bibs, soft blankets, newborn caps and mittens, booties, pajamas, everything.  She ran her fingers over the unassembled crib and issued a soft sound of tenderness when examining the car seat.  A high chair rested in the corner and a wide assortment of child development games filled other containers.

“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?” asked Elizabeth.

“A boy,” Sally replied gleefully.

“Well, feel free to return any of those things for blue.  I have all the tickets.”

Sally moved from box to box, accentuating each discovery with ooohs and aaahs much to Elizabeth’s delight.  She was sitting on the floor and suddenly turned with misty eyes. 

“Can I tell you something?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“You don’t know how much I wish my baby could have a grandmother like you.”

Elizabeth took a paper napkin from the table and dabbed her eyes.  “And you don’t know how much I’ve cried and wished I could have had Andie’s baby as my grandchild.  She apparently has reconciled to it and is back with her studies and all but I can’t do that.  I keep wondering what color hair it would have had and all the things we could have done together.”

Sally looked to the ceiling, trying to abate the mounting tears.  “I think my mother wants me to get an abortion.  She keeps talking about how unprepared we are and about how horrid this place is.”

“Look at us,” chuckled Elizabeth, “crying like babies.  Tell me, what plans do you have for today?”

“Nothing really,” said Sally, “just to cook dinner before five.”

“Come on,” said the woman, “let’s take those clothes back and change them for what a little boy should have.  Have you thought of a name?”

“Stephen,” said Sally, “he’s Stephen.”

“Do you want to go shopping?” asked Elizabeth.

Sally pushed to her feet and brushed off her skirt. “That question has always had only one answer.”

Elizabeth drove to the most elite mall in the city and walked briskly through the halls to the luxury stores of Nieman Marcus and Harrods where she was greeted by name and a clerk accompanied her to assist with her needs.  The returned items were taken to a cash register and their prices totaled.  For more than an hour, the two women probed through baby clothes and items with Elizabeth announcing, “We’ll take that one.”

“Everything’s so expensive,” whispered Sally. “You could just get your money back.”

“And then what would Stephen have to wear?” asked Elizabeth defensively.  “Come on, there’s more things over here.”

Three hours later, Sally was convinced that they had even more items than they had returned and Elizabeth had taken her to the restaurant at Nieman Marcus to eat.  Elizabeth had sent a security guard at Harrod’s to put the bulky shopping bags in her car and Sally was deeply impressed with the woman’s influence and apparent status.

“You’ve been so kind and spent so much money and you don’t even know me,” Sally offered softly.

Elizabeth smiled and reached across the table to grasp Sally’s hand.  “I see a little of me in you, dear.  I see those glorious first years that Allen and I had living in a little flat with a bathroom at the end of the hall that was shared with all the other tenants.  It was bologna sandwiches and potato chips and we were incredibly happy only because we were together.

“Sometimes we think we have come a long way from those days but in reality, I think we’d go back to them if we had the chance.  We were just so much in love and everyone was against us.  And then . . . .”  Elizabeth’s eyes drifted off as if in thoughts defying to be spoken.  “And then it was as if Allen had to show them all and everything changed to what things we could own instead of the things we had.  The more we owned, the farther away went those happy days in the dingy little flat on Market Street.”

Sally was poised to speak when the waitress came with their meal.  She waited and watched the initialed plates with the marvelous presentation of each entrée.

“I feel like I can talk to you,” said Sally when they had their privacy again.  “I don’t feel that way with Barbara.”

“Barbara?” asked Elizabeth with obvious confusion.  “You call your mother Barbara?”

“I always have.  I don’t know how it started.  She doesn’t mind.  She doesn’t mind anything, really.  You obviously understand things better than she does.  But I keep thinking I’m going to wake up at any moment.  Tomorrow’s payday for Mark and this morning I cooked the last two eggs for his breakfast.  I had eight dollars saved from last week and I was sitting at the kitchen table wondering if I should buy eggs and other stuff or go to the thrift store.  I just wanted things for Stephen so badly.  I went to the store and look what happened.  I met you and if I told anyone about all this, they wouldn’t believe me.  Mark isn’t going to believe me!”

“Tell you what,” said Elizabeth as she was cutting through her roast beef, “I have a handyman at our place and I usually have to invent things to keep him busy.  A lot of the time he just pretends to be working.  Most of the time I’m paying him to do nothing.  So why don’t I send him to your place for a few days and we can give it a new coat of paint and fix things up a bit for the baby.  What do you think?”

Sally’s mouth fell in awe.  “Really?  Do you always do things like this for strangers?”

“I think it’s called sublimation,” laughed Elizabeth.  “I lost a baby, Sally.  I lost my grandchild and I’d kinda’ like to pretend that I helped another one to come into this world.  I’m doing this for me, too.  Call it therapy if you want.  And after all, I’m like you.  I went to donate some things and it really pained me to do it.  Then you came out and here we are.  So now I want to ask you something.”

“Of course,” replied Sally.

Elizabeth’s face was solemn and her mouth was tight in grim resolve.  “Could you have done it?  Could you have aborted your baby?”

Sally took a deep breath and forced a smile.  “I thought about it.  That first day when I took the pregnancy test.  It occurred to me.  But no, that’s something I couldn’t ever do.”

“Andie did it so easily,” said Elizabeth.  “It was like taking out the garbage or something.  And she knew we had everything ready; the guest room painted and baby decals, everything.  She just sent her baby away and the same day she told us what she had done, she was laughing on the phone with her friends.  She wasn’t the daughter I knew and I was really devastated.  I guess I wish she was more like you.”

Sally’s smile revealed her sympathies.  “She probably just has some growing up to do.  Someday it’ll strike home and she’ll start wondering what her child could have been.”

Elizabeth dabbed the corner of her eye with a napkin.  “I hope so.  Not that I want her to suffer or anything but she just seems so damned insensitive about it all.  And here I see you all excited about your baby and it just reminds me of how it’s supposed to be.”

Sally wanted desperately to tell her new friend about communicating with Stephen and yet knew it would sound so preposterous that it might put the new friendship in peril.  As she was drawn into her thoughts, she felt Elizabeth’s hand patting hers.

“Everything happens for a reason, Sally.  We’re here sharing all this because it’s what we were supposed to do.  Paths cross and lives change.  I really believe that.”

“Me too,” agreed Sally, “especially after today.”

Elizabeth put the last bite of beef into her mouth and gave Sally a knowing wink.  She held up a hand until she had finished chewing and then continued her dialogue.

“So what colors?  For the apartment, I mean.  I had an interior decorator for the guest room and he told me that babies especially respond to a pale yellow.  That would go well in the bedroom.  What other rooms are there?”

Sally laughed aloud.  “There’s one big all stuck together room, remember?  The kitchen and the living area are all one room, really.  We’ve only got two rooms.”

Elizabeth frowned as tried to remember the arrangement of the apartment.  “Okay, so we need something that really coordinates well.  Maybe a very light green or beige.  But look honey, if I’m getting ahead of myself and pushing into your life, please tell me.  I won’t be angry or hurt, I promise.  I just get carried away with stuff like this.”

“How could you think that?” asked Sally with a tone of astonishment.  “No one has ever been so kind to me.  I really hope we can be friends, you know?  That it doesn’t all end today.  I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, either.  I don’t want anything from you.  I just want to be friends.”

“I’d like that,” sighed Elizabeth.  “I’d like that very much.  But a drop in friend, you know?  The kind that doesn’t have to call first but can just come over whenever.”

Sally responded with another burst of giggles.  “It can’t be any other way.  I don’t have a phone.”

“Wow,” said the woman with surprise.  “You can’t be pregnant without a telephone.  We have to work on that one, too.”

Later, as the clock neared four, Elizabeth helped Sally climb the stairs with the burden of the shopping bags and they laughed as she puffed with the effort.  “Elevator,” she gasped, “elevator, my kingdom for an elevator.”

Once in the apartment, Sally led her new friend on the ever so brief tour before Elizabeth told her she had to rush and gave her a light farewell kiss on the cheek.  “I’ll drop by in a couple of days, okay?”

“Please do,” replied Sally, “and I don’t know how to thank you.  I really don’t.”

Elizabeth gave her another wink and a bright smile.  “Think godmother,” she replied and closed the door.

Mark entered the apartment and his face lit with shock.  He walked to the array of gifts Sally had arranged for his review and asked only, “What did you do?  We agreed, Sally, not to make any new bills.”

Sally took his hands and led him to the sofa where she excitedly related the events of the day.  Mark’s frown told her that he found the tale beyond belief so she emphasized how kind and generous Elizabeth was. 

“All this?” he asked.  “There’s hundreds of dollars here, hon.  Maybe thousands, I don’t know.  But all this from a stranger?”

Sally nodded and moved into his arms.  “It’s like she was sent, Mark.  You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “Things like that just don’t happen.  You didn’t sign anything or nothing like that?”

Sally laughed joyously and pressed against him more tightly.  “I didn’t sign anything, I promise.”

For hours they examined each item and Sally was delighted that Mark wanted to assemble the crib immediately and she had to convince him to wait.

Two days later Elizabeth knocked at the door and introduced two men that accompanied her.  “This is Julian,” she said, “the handyman I told you about.  He does everything, carpentry, electrician, plumber, you name it.  And this is Charles Dubois, the interior decorator I told you about.  It’s better if he looks around and gives us some tips, okay?”

“Okay,” agreed Sally with open amazement.

Once inside, it was as if Elizabeth took over.  She led the men through the rooms and pointed out the items she had observed earlier. 

“We’ll need safety locks on the cabinets and drawers,” she told Julian before turning to Sally.  “Just wait when Stephen’s two or so you’ll see what I mean.  They get into everything.”

Charles Dubois examined the space with eyebrows raised in incredulous doubt.  It was obvious that he had never been asked to give his expertise to such humble surroundings.  Sally did not like him from the first encounter.  He wanted to be aloof and superior while accepting payment from someone like Elizabeth who obviously had more but was never better than anyone else.

“A soft peach,” he offered as he gazed about the combined room.  “And yes, you’re quite right.  Pale yellow would be best for the baby and give more life to the room.  We need to do something about the kitchen curtains, of course.”

Elizabeth took Sally’s hand and pulled her into the bedroom away from the men.  “Let me do this, please?” she asked with a sound of plea.  “Please?  I love fixing up places and decorating them.  We can make this place really cute!”

Sally glanced around as if taking inventory of all the apartment would need.  “Do you know how much money you’re talking about?  That Dubois guy is one of those high class decorators, it’s written all over him.  It’ll cost a fortune to do what you want to do.”

“Don’t be silly,” scolded Elizabeth.  “We can do all this for less than seven or eight thousand dollars.”

“Seven or eight thousand dollars!” exclaimed Sally.  “Do you know how much that is for us?”

“Yes, I do,” replied Elizabeth, “and do you know how little it is to me?”

“Oh God,” said Sally, moving to the bed and sitting on the edge.  “I don’t believe all this.”  She looked toward Elizabeth with rivulets of tears on her cheeks.  “We talked about you, Mark and me.  We said it was like you had been sent to us, like an angel.”

“Oh dear,” chuckled Elizabeth, “I’m hardly an angel, my friend.  I have my moments, you can ask my husband.  But we agreed to be friends, remember?  That’s a 24/7 kind of friendship.  So I’m going to really be nosey and ask, can I be Stephen’s godmother?”

Sally sniffed loudly and her voice broke with emotion.  “It would be such an honor, Elizabeth.”

“So please let me do this, Sally.  Just put it all in my hands and give me permission to give this place a real makeover.  Okay?  It’ll be fun!”

Somehow the words wouldn’t cross her lips and Sally only nodded before watching Elizabeth walk away calling for Charles to give his opinion about yet another detail she had noted.

Elizabeth visited about every other day during the time Julian was changing wall switches, repairing the kitchen sink that had always leaked and a list of tasks given to him.  Other workers sent by Dubois had furniture moved to the center of the room and covered with plastic while painting the ceiling. 

It was on one of her earliest visits that Mr. Bernstein came to the apartment door.  One of the workmen answered his knock and watched him enter without permission.

“Who’s that?” asked Elizabeth suspiciously.

“Mr. Bernstein, the landlord,” said Sally with apprehension.  “He lives downstairs.”

“Hello, Mr. Bernstein,” said Sally as a greeting.

“I’m getting complaints,” he replied, ignoring her gesture.  “Lots of noise, hammering and all.”

“It won’t last long,” interrupted Elizabeth.

Bernstein pinched his face and snarled, “It sure as hell won’t.  I want it stopped right now.”

Elizabeth wore a polite smile.  “It’ll stop when we’re finished,” she informed him.

“I can call the cops if I need to,” he threatened.  “Disturbing the peace and bothering my other renters.”

Elizabeth widened her smile and spoke with a firmness that surprised Sally.  “Call them,” she offered, “and I’ll have the building inspector here before they arrive, I guarantee it.  We’re correcting defective wiring, unsanitary kitchen conditions, deficient heating and probably a few dozen more code violations I’m sure he’ll find.  And by the way, we’re doing this at our expense so I’ll have our attorney’s in contact with you in the next 48 hours with an agreement not to augment the rent for a sufficient period of time to compensate for the expense forced upon your renters.  It will, of course, include the clause that they cannot be asked to move until that expenditure has been fully compensated.  So, would you like to borrow my cell phone to call the police?  I have another phone I can use to call the inspector.”

Elizabeth extended her hand with the telephone and extracted another from her purse. 

“Just try to keep the noise down, okay?” asked Bernstein and quickly exited the apartment.

When the door had closed, Elizabeth lifted her hand for a high five and the women laughed as Sally praised her aggressive handling of the pesky landlord.

Each evening when Mark arrived he expressed a new level of shock.  His dismal apartment was slowly converted into a fashion expression glistening with life and color.  More than that, he delighted in the energetic change in Sally and her enthusiasm about the baby and all that waited before them.

“I want you to meet her,” she told Mark as they stood with arms about each other, examining the new image of their apartment.

Mark nodded slowly, “I want to.”

“She wants to be Stephen’s godmother,” announced Sally.

“Stephen?” asked Mark.  “Who’s this Stephen?”

Sally immediately regretted the comment because she had not intended to tell too much of Stephen and all she knew about him.

“I want to name him Stephen, okay?” she asked.

Mark grinned with a sly expression.  “And what if this Stephen is a Stephanie?”

He took her by the hand and sat on the sofa, pulling her down beside him.

“Look, I don’t want you to get your heart set on something that may not work out the way you think.  We don’t know the sex of the baby yet, do we?”

“I know,” Sally said sternly, “don’t ask me how, but there’s absolutely no doubt and I want to name him Stephen, okay?”

Mark pretended to think for a long moment.  “I kinda’ had my heart set on Horacio,” he teased.

She punched his shoulder playfully and whispered, “He can hear you, you know.  He can hear everything you say, even the Horacio thing.  You need to apologize and tell him you’re only kidding.”

“Wow, you are jumping a few months ahead, aren’t you?” asked Mark.  “A fetus needs what?  Five, six months to start being aware of outside things?”

“We have an exceptional son,” cooed Sally, “so apologize.”

Mark leaned close to her stomach and softly said, “Hey you in there, I was just horsing around with the Horacio name business.  But don’t be like your mother, okay?  She doesn’t have any sense of humor.”

“Don’t tell him that!” she complained happily. 

With that they snuggled into a position of comfort and continued to examine their surroundings and imagine what it would be like when finished.

“Damn, God must really like us,” exclaimed Mark.  “Are you sure this Elizabeth woman isn’t an angel?”

“No,” replied Sally, “I’m not sure at all.  But she can be Stephen’s godmother, right?”

Mark tightened his arm about his wife and softly answered, “I think she already is.”

Elizabeth had determined that the kitchen range was dangerous and had a new one delivered.  Sally protested but was quickly reminded of the dangers of gas leaks in older buildings.  All gas connections had to be checked and made secure.

When the painters had large areas to cover, Elizabeth insisted on taking Sally out of the apartment.  She claimed that the odor of paint would not be good for a developing baby and Sally could not help but think the woman was probably right.  They would go to malls and restaurants and once even to the Hillbrook Country Club where everyone seemed to be on personal relations with Elizabeth.

On the day returning from the country club, Elizabeth was nearing the parking space in front of the brownstone when Sally suddenly said, “Keep going, please.”

Elizabeth automatically turned the vehicle back to the street and passed the building, watching a slender woman with greying hair moving down the steps.

“Is that your mother?” she asked knowingly.

“Yeah,” replied Sally, “I just didn’t want to deal with anything; not today.”

They braked at the signal and watched as Sally’s mother’s car moved away from the curb and turned at the corner. Elizabeth then drove around the block and parked in front of the apartment.

“I’ve given you a problem, haven’t I?” asked Elizabeth with a tone of regret.  “The apartment and the baby things.  How to explain them to her, right?”

“I’ll think of something,” said Sally.

Elizabeth patted Sally’s hand, “Make it good and be sure to keep the windows open until the paint is completely dry, okay?”

Sally opened the car door and promised to follow the instructions.  Elizabeth told her she would visit again soon and drove away with a wave of her hand.

Each day the apartment seem to evolve into fashion magazine playhouse.  The rough and rude appearance of the dark corners and foreboding walls now were alive with color and brightness.  Spaces were now functional and she noticed that bookshelves and lamps had appeared from out of nowhere.  Immediately she realized that Elizabeth wanted to get her out of the apartment before new items were delivered. 

Sally slumped onto a kitchen chair and stared at the new washer and dryer that had been installed in her absence.  Elizabeth had mentioned the need for baby clothes to be washed in extra hot water.  Now there would be no more trips down the three flights of stairs into the basement laundry room. 

“Are you crying, Mama?” asked Stephen suddenly.

“No honey, I’m not crying, I just want to.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because someone is being so very kind to us.”

“The woman?” Stephen inquired.

“Your godmother,” she told him.

“What’s a godmother?  You’re my mother.”

Sally sighed deeply with thought.  “A godmother, Stephen, is someone who will love you and look over you and be there in times of need.  She won’t be like your mother but she is the security that you will always have someone.”

“She sounds nice,” Stephen observed.  “Her voice is very soft and warm.”

Sally’s hands automatically moved over her stomach.  “You’re so smart.  You can tell about people very well, can’t you?”

“I don’t know,” said Stephen.  “I only know how they make me feel.”

She could not resist the question.  “And how does Mama make you feel, Stephen?”

“I like the way your fingers feel against your stomach.  Your fingers speak.  They want for me to be there so you can hold me and that makes me feel like I am wanted.”

“Oh Stephen, you are wanted, honey!” Sally exclaimed.  “Don’t ever think that your Mama and Daddy didn’t want you.”

“I know,” Stephen offered softly, “it’s just that when we go to that place where all the woman are with their babies inside them . . . “

“The clinic,” interrupted Sally.

“Yes,” Stephen agreed, “there are women there who do not like their babies, Mama.  There are many very sad babies there.”

Sally frowned with the thought.  “Stephen, you mean you can communicate with other babies that are inside their Mamas?”

“Not like you and me,” he responded, “we feel each other.  Each one has an energy that we feel when we are near to them.”

The idea was foreign to her and she put her hands on her stomach again as if thinking it would help her understand.  Obviously Stephen sensed her confusion for he continued, “Everyone has an energy, Mama.  Haven’t you ever walked past a stranger and for some reason you didn’t understand, you didn’t like him?”

Sally’s eyes widened with the comment.  Not only had it happened, it had occurred many times.  She had never given it thought but now Stephen was making it logical.

“If we get near someone with negative energy, it repels against our positive sides,” said Stephen.  “It’s like a magnet that rejects the negative to the positive. And in that place �" that clinic �" there are babies wanting to talk with their mothers but they won’t listen.  You listen to me, Mama and that makes my time in here much easier.”

She did not realize that she was moving her hands over her stomach tenderly as he spoke and she was in awe as she recognized his depth of perception and understanding.

“How can you be so wise?” she messaged.

Stephen paused for a long moment and then spoke in slow, deliberate tones.  “There is nothing new, Mama.  Each discovery is really a rediscovery of something lost long before human memory.  We are given the spark of life and bring with us the chronicle of everything that ever was.  Once we are in the world, all that will be taken from us as we are taught a new language, mathematics and social customs.  Each thing we learn erases something once known until we are finally like everyone else.  That’s why people are driven to make discoveries because somewhere inside them they know that it is there waiting to be discovered again.

“There was a time in a place long forgotten when everyone communicated like you and me.  It was not always necessary to use words formed by tongues; all messages, feelings and desires came between people in the same way we now understand each other.  In that time there were no lies because we could read hearts like pages in a book.  We knew when we were loved and by whom.  Our friends and enemies could never hide behind the false curtain of words.  We have that now again, you and me but it will soon be lost to us as well.”

Sally had listened with total astonishment.  She tried to imagine a place of such freedom of thought and feelings but could not.  She wondered if it was the utopia of Stephen’s dreams or if he spoke from some faded past she would never know.

“It’s very difficult, Stephen,” she began, “to hear more than you can understand.  You mean you and I are talking to each other in a language no one else could understand?”

Stephen chuckled lightly and she wondered if he thought her to be hopelessly naïve.  “The next time you speak with a mother,” he told her, “ask if they believe a newborn baby can think.  Most will answer that yes, indeed they can.  Then ask, if they think, they do it in what language?”

She considered the question and realized its validity.  Babies need to learn a language so what would they use to form thoughts.  She considered that babies reacted to instincts but even those must be pre-programmed from somewhere. 

“I’ve never heard you speak like this before,” she told him gently.  “You seem so grownup.”

“I am growing, Mama,” was all he replied.

It was after Stephen had expressed himself so eloquently that Sally started to view other pregnant women with a special scrutiny.  Were they communicating with their babies? she wondered.  If not, was she specially blessed to have her conversations with Stephen?

That night, after Mark had turned and surrendered to the dark curtain of sleep, she asked Stephen if he was awake and he responded yes.

“Know what?” she began, “I always thought of how much I’d love you once you were here and in my arms.  Just thinking of it made me so happy.  And now I realize that I love you with all my heart in this very moment.”

“I know,” he answered, “I can feel it.”

The inevitable happened the following day.  Mark had left for work and when there was a knock at the door, Sally assumed it was the workmen coming for the last details that Elizabeth had pointed out to them.  Opening the door, she saw her mother’s frown and stepped aside for her to enter.

“I was beginning to wonder what happened to you,” she complained, “this is my fourth trip and you were never at home.”  In that moment she moved her eyes over the room and her mouth fell in astonishment.  “What did you do, rob a bank?” she asked.

Sally didn’t answer but asked in return, “Do you like it?”

Her mother walked through the room, turning to inspect each feature that had been changed or replaced before entering the kitchen area. 

“How did you do all this?” she asked.

“I asked if you liked it,” insisted Sally.

Her mother hung her purse on the back of a kitchen chair and went to the new range and ran her fingers over it.  She turned to see the new washer and dryer and lifted the lid to peer inside.  Moving to the bedroom door she peeked inside and flicked on the light switch.

“How do you think you’ll ever pay for all this?” she asked with concern.  “I certainly hope you haven’t fallen for one of those credit with no questions asked schemes.”

Sally slumped dejected onto a chair and viewed her mother with despair.  “Can you just tell me if you like it, Barbara?”

“Well, of course I like it, S

ally but I’m thinking of what’ll happen if you can’t pay for all this.”

She knew her day was not starting off well with the appearance of her mother at the door and she felt a jolt of fear upon hearing another knock.

“Let me get that,” she said and watched her mother take a seat at the table while still exploring her surroundings with an expression of complete apprehension.

“Hi,” said Elizabeth as Sally opened the door.  She moved past Sally and dropped some shopping bags on the sofa.  “You won’t believe the new things that came in at Niemans,” she exclaimed.

“My mother’s here,” Sally informed her softly and watched as Elizabeth’s eyes jolted toward the kitchen.

“I can come back later,” she said hurriedly.

“No,” said Sally, “we might as well get this out of the way.”

Taking Elizabeth’s hand, she led her into the kitchen where her mother was busy forming a false smile.

“Mother, this is my friend, Elizabeth.”

Accepting Elizabeth’s hand, her mother gave Sally her most suspicious look.  “I don’t remember you mentioning an Elizabeth,” she said.

Elizabeth took a seat and listened to Sally’s response that was more like a rebuke.  “No, you don’t, do you?”

“I’ll bet you’re really excited about the baby,” said Elizabeth in an attempt to interrupt the open antagonism between the women.

“Yes,” said her mother, “of course.”

“And what they’ve done to this place,” Elizabeth said with a tone of wonder, “you have to give it to them.”

Barbara frowned deeply and did not hide her confusion.  “Give them what?” she asked.

Elizabeth was becoming socially aggressive and could play the game every bit as well as Sally’s mother and she was determined to prove it.

“I have a daughter,” she began with a lip curled in a signal of disgust, “and young people today never do what Sally and Mark have done.  I mean, to put away money every week for the day when a baby is on the way, kids don’t plan like that today.  And then to have everything programmed; what colors for the walls and where stores sell repossessed kitchen items that are still like new.  I was really impressed and how mature they are and how well they’ve planned for their future.  You must be very proud.”

Sally listened to the dialogue with amazement but tried desperately for it not to show.

“Well, of course,” her mother stammered.  “I never knew, really.  Sally doesn’t share much with me.”

Sally shivered with the comment.  Her mother never missed a chance to put in another dig.

“They’re just modest, I think,” said Elizabeth with a bubbling voice matching her wide smile.  “Or maybe they just want their lives to be private.  I know that’s how it is with my daughter.  And what can you do?  Just understand that you did your job and they’re good people and step back and let them live.”

Elizabeth turned to Sally and put her hand on her arm.  “You’re the big poetry fan.  What was it Kahlil Gibran said?  Parents are like the bow and children are the arrows.  It’s our job to send them straight into the world but when we open our fingers to the bowstring, we need to let go.  It’s something like that, isn’t it?”

Sally nodded eagerly, “Paraphrased but yeah, it was something like that.”  As she spoke, she felt her emotions swell as she watched how easily and cleverly Elizabeth was sending her message to her mother.  “Coffee?” she asked suddenly as if to break the trend of the conversation.

“A mother can’t help but worry,” countered Barbara.  “I think a parent that doesn’t worry about their child needs to reconsider their parenting skills.”

Sally felt her muscles tighten with the statement, knowing that it was a vicious attack on Elizabeth that wasn’t deserved.

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more,” feigned Elizabeth.  “Yeah, coffee sounds fine,” she interrupted herself to speak to Sally.  “And we worry.  Oh God, how mother’s worry.  I remember how my mother worried about me and I lived two thousand miles from her.  But then one day she realized that I had married well and we were happy and everything was really okay.  I probably had a better life than she did.  Then I think it worried her to know that she didn’t have to worry.  But that day comes to mothers; the day when they discover that their kid is really getting along fine without her.  It always comes and instead of being disappointed, we should really be happy.  It means we did a good job.”

Elizabeth watched the woman nervously finger her purse and force a pinched smile.  “I guess it’s nice to know that you’ve done a good job but of course, it’s hard to know if you’re not privy to any part of your daughter’s life.”

“Mother, that’s not fair,” complained Sally. 

Sally’s mother held up her hand to reject the cup of coffee her daughter was bringing to the table.  “I really have to go.  I just wanted to see that everything was okay and I can see that it is.”  She extended her hand to Elizabeth in another false gesture and led Sally to the door.  “I’m glad you’ve found a mother figure to give you such good advice and to share your secrets, Sally, from the looks of her clothes, a very rich one as well,” she offered as she kissed her cheek lightly.

“Barbara!” Sally whispered harshly, “she’s a friend and a damned good one.  Don’t go making something out of it that isn’t there!”

“Goodbye, dear,” she said and walked to the stairway where she descended without looking back.

“I’m sorry, Sally,” Elizabeth solemnly said later.  “I should have kept my mouth shut.  It’s something between you and your mother and I had no right.”

“No,” replied Sally sharply, “you were magnificent.  Those were the things she needed to hear and what I should have told her months ago.  I appreciated everything you said, really.”

Elizabeth sighed deeply with a sound of resignation.  “She’s a mother, Sally.  She just wants something to hold onto.”

“I know,” Sally agreed, “but holding on is one thing and strangling is another.”

 

 

 

CHALLENGES

 

Sally was halfway through her second month of pregnancy and the nausea continued.  The apartment was the envy of everyone in the brownstone but she was still despondent.  Her mother had not visited since meeting Elizabeth and a few days earlier Elizabeth had informed her that she needed to go to France for a few weeks with her husband.  It was a business and social event requiring the wives to be in attendance.  Sally had never asked about Elizabeth’s husband and his business but it was obvious that he was successful and influential. 

     She had wondered from time to time why Elizabeth had never brought her husband to introduce him but concluded that he was probably far too busy to be interested in his wife’s friendships.  Elizabeth had often appeared to be lonely and Sally never wanted to pry and ask if it was true or why.  There were many subtle clues saying that the woman was alone in the world and Sally hoped her friendship was therapeutic.  Elizabeth had often spoken of being alone in the large home when her husband was away on business.  Sally had no doubt that the woman felt neglected.  She thought that probably Elizabeth’s husband’s time was dedicated to his career and very little was left for his wife.

     It was during this time that Mark came home earlier than usual with a face filled with dread.  “They’re closing down,” he told her, “the company’s filing for bankruptcy.”

All Sally knew to do was to comfort him and try to help him believe that he would find something better soon.  Not being so convinced herself, she found the goal to be far more difficult than she imagined.  Jobs were at a premium and the economy had gone sour years before.  Some people had been out of work for years and she was telling Mark of how easy it would be for him.

Before Elizabeth entered her life, Sally usually had a few dollars stashed away in case of emergencies but the woman’s generosity had brought a false sense of security and Sally had nothing in reserve.  She was thankful that she had decided to go to the free clinic for pre-natal care where all services came without cost.  But Mark losing his job brought a greater problem because with it went the insurance they had depended on for the delivery of the baby.

When a week passed and Mark had not been called for an interview at any of the places where he had left his resume, the problem was growing to crisis proportions.  Sally was not rummaging through the cupboards trying to invent combinations of items to provide a meal.  Some money was needed for Mark to take the bus to places that had advertised available jobs.  Even the daily cost of a newspaper to search through the classifieds was a mounting expense. 

“There are always long lines,” complained Mark.  “I lose a whole day just waiting to apply for one job where there are hundreds of other applicants.  Some of those guys have months without work.  Today I filed for my unemployment benefits but how are we going to live on three hundred and thirty dollars a week?  In fact, how are we going to live until the first benefit check comes in?”

“Something will happen,” said Sally, “just have faith.”  The only “something” that Sally could conjure was if Elizabeth returned in time to help them out of this emergency or that she would have to swallow her pride and borrow from her parents.  Mark would never agree to ask a favor of her parents and she hated having secrets from him but the possibility haunted her thoughts for days.

Her thoughts concerning Elizabeth troubled Sally as well.  She did not like that a friendship should turn into a dependency and she was beginning to assess the relationship and try to put some personal honesty back into it.  Elizabeth needed to be a friend and only a friend.  Her generosity could not be seen as an insurance policy against personal problems.  Even so, she could not help but hope that Elizabeth would be returning soon simply because all other avenues of hope were closing in about her.

“It feels heavy, Mama,” Stephen said suddenly and it startled Sally as she was lost in thoughts about their mounting troubles.

“What, honey?  What feels heavy?”

“You do,” he replied. 

She lowered her eyes sadly.  “I have some problems, Stephen but you shouldn’t worry about them.”

“I heard Daddy,” said the baby, “I know he’s sad, too.”

“He needs to find a job, sweetheart,” she messaged, “and something will work out.  It always does so you just believe that everything is going to be fine.”

“He’s thinking something,” said Stephen gently.  “I can hear it in his voice.”

“Who, Stephen?”

“Daddy.  He doesn’t know how to tell you about it.”

Sally frowned with the information.  “What?  What is it he wants to tell me?”

As much as she prodded, Stephen remained silent after that and she felt helpless, knowing that all she could do was cradle her stomach in her hands and wonder about the strange little boy inside her.

It was after seven when Mark came home and his mood was dark and brooding.  Sally knew better than to ask questions.  The answers were written on his face.  He slumped onto the sofa and stared at the wall.  She could only watch from a distance and understand what he was going through.  Mark was a proud man and to be unemployed and not able to support his family was cancerous to his soul.  At last, she entered the living room and sat down beside him.

“The rent’s due next week,” he said with the hollow tone of apprehension.  “I found someone to buy the car for junk.  It’ll be enough to pay for another month but after that I don’t know.”

“It’s a month,” Sally assured him.  “A lot of things can happen in a month.”

He nodded slowly.  “You can starve to death in a month or go crazy from standing in lines waiting for an interview.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder and stroked his arm gently.  “We’ll be okay,” she assured him.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said gruffly. “All the power of positive thinking lines aren’t going to change anything.  We don’t have any money, Sally.  There aren’t any jobs out there.  Everything’s just falling apart around us and it’s not going to be okay!”

He stood abruptly and went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water.  “I’m doing everything I can.  I don’t know how to do more.”  He moved to the table and stared at it for a long moment.  “Look at us, Sally.  Hotcakes for dinner.  Hotcakes made with water because we can’t afford a quart of milk.  We don’t have the money for one lousy quart of milk and we’re thinking about having a baby?  How will we buy formula?  There’s a thousand and one special things a baby needs!  I can’t do it.  I’m sorry, but I just can’t do more than I’m doing now and nothing’s working.”

Sally’s face blanched and her mouth fell in astonishment.  “What are you saying, Mark?”

His face grew hard with resolve. “We can’t have this baby, Sally.  That’s what I’m saying.  Not now, we just can’t.  You’re in the first trimester. . . “

“Oh God,” gasped Sally, placing her hand over her mouth with a sudden jolt of fear.  “Don’t say that, Mark!  Don’t tell me something like that!”

“Do you think I like it?” he asked harshly.  “Do you think I enjoy telling my wife that she has to get an abortion?  Do you think I’m a monster?”

She didn’t know what to answer but her eyes were wide with disbelief and she quickly stood and ran into the bedroom and closed the door.

She fell onto the bed and permitted the sobs to wrack her frame.  Soon her breaths came in short jerks and she twisted her hands over her lap.  Then, by the most ancient of instincts, she cradled her stomach and lowered her head as the moans of despair returned.

“Mama?” asked Stephen suddenly.

Sally tried to force herself to regain composure.  She thought it was silly in a way, almost like she believed Stephen to be in the room observing her.

“What, honey?” she asked.

“It’s okay, Mama,” he replied.  “Don’t cry.  If you have to do it, I understand.  I don’t want you to cry.”

She tightened her hands across her abdomen and clenched her jaw.  “Don’t you worry, Stephen, Mama’s not going to do anything to hurt you.  Never!”

“Maybe Daddy’s right,” he observed softly.

“Now you listen to me, young man,” she said firmly.  “When you get here, we’re going to church and you’re going to learn about God.  And God doesn’t work like this.  He always does something to help people like you and me because we love each other.  I will not let anyone take you away from me, Stephen.  Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Mama,” he replied.

“Now you go to sleep,” she told him, “I have some thinking to do.”

Within minutes Sally was frantically digging in her purse, tossing items from it onto the bed until she located a business card.  Taking a deep breath of resignation, she pulled on a sweater and exited the room.

“I’m going out for little while,” she said as she passed Mark.

He frowned as he asked, “Where are you going?”

“Out,” she replied as she closed the door behind her. 

Two blocks away she stepped aboard the P-23 route bus and watched the city pour past the window.  Her old elementary school came into view and faded away before she could examine it closely.  Soon they neared Fairfield Avenue and she pulled the cord signaling the driver to stop.

Walking three more blocks she finally turned past the neatly trimmed shrubs and climbed the three steps to push the doorbell.

“Sally,” said her father with astonishment, “this is a surprise.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek as a greeting and watched her mother exit from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.

“What’s wrong?” asked her mother.  “Are you alright?”

“I need to use your telephone,” said Sally.

With a frown of deep curiosity, her mother answered with a question.  “You came all this way to use the telephone?”

“Yes,” said Sally.

“I don’t understand,” Barbara insisted.

Turning to her father, Sally repeated, “Can I use your phone?”

“Sure honey,” he replied and led her to his study where she sat at his desk and fumbled for the card in her pocket.  Looking up, she saw her parents standing there as if waiting for an explanation.  “It’s private,” she told them and they hurriedly left the room and closed the door.

She spied a telephone directly on the shelf behind her and thumbed through the pages until she found the country code for France.  Slowly, deliberately, she dialed Elizabeth’s cell phone number.  The raspy ringing continued until she was tempted to hang up and reconsider calling when she heard Elizabeth’s voice.

“Who is it?” asked Elizabeth.

“It’s me, Sally.  I’m so sorry for waking you up.  It must be early morning there.”

“It’s one-twenty, dear.  What’s wrong?”

Sally felt the tears building in her eyes and struggled to control her voice.  “Everything, Elizabeth.  I needed to talk to you.  No one else understands.”

“Tell me what it is, Sally.   I’m sure we can work something out whatever it is.”

“Mark wants me to get an abortion,” she said suddenly.

“What?” gasped Elizabeth.  “Why would he do something like that?”

“He lost his job weeks ago and he can’t find work.  We don’t have anything and he just thinks we can’t afford to have a baby right now.”

Elizabeth started to reply but Sally heard her obviously talking to her husband and telling him everything was alright and for him to go back to sleep.

“Why didn’t you call me before now?” scolded Elizabeth.  “You don’t want an abortion, do you?”

“No,” snapped Sally, “No, of course not.  I’m just so ashamed to be calling.  I just don’t have anyone else to talk to and I feel so alone.”

 She could hear Elizabeth sigh deeply.  “Okay, now listen carefully.  Tomorrow, after eleven in the morning, you have Mark go to the Warrington Textiles Building on 47^th Street near Hamilton.  That’ll give me time to arrange things.  There’ll be a job waiting for him.  I don’t know what he’ll be doing but it’ll be something until I get back and then we can match something to his skills.  He’ll get a hiring bonus.  We do that sometimes with engineers and people we really want on board.  That’ll give you some cash until we can get together and really put things in order.

“Now, you silly thing, I don’t want to hear any more about doing something to my god chlld.”

Before Elizabeth could finish her instructions, Sally was sobbing fiercely.

“And stop crying.  You break my heart when you do that.  Anyway, yesterday I bought Stephen some really cute outfits in a quaint little store in Paris.  You’ll love them.”

Sally’s voice broke into mournful sounds as she said, “How can I ever thank you?  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Elizabeth’s reply came in cold, calculating tones.  “Sally, honey, I’m just a rich old broad that needs to have someone like you in my life.  You’re everything my daughter isn’t, okay?  The more I’m around my daughter, the more I understand why some animals eat their young.  So you just let me enjoy myself having someone like you around me and indulge me if I want to jump in and help.  Now I’m going to go back to sleep and you just take care of that kid, okay?  Love you, now goodbye.”

Sally lowered the receiver onto the telephone and lifted her eyes to the ceiling.  She could go home now and lift the weight of the world from Mark’s shoulders.  She said a silent prayer of thanks and opened the door to see her mother waiting at the foot of the stairs.

“Now, is everything alright?” asked Barbara.

“Everything’s fine,” said Sally, watching her father enter with a piece of pizza in his hand.

“So why come all this way just to use the phone?” the woman asked with stern insistence.

Sally smiled.  “Maybe it was an excuse to see you two,” she lied.  “I’ll pay you for the call later.”

“May I ask who you called?” said her mother.

Sally kissed her father’s cheek again as a farewell gesture, took a bite of his pizza and told her mother, “No.”

On the bus back to her neighborhood, Sally felt the enormous sensation of relief settle over her.  She poked a finger into her stomach and messaged, “Hey, you awake?”

“Yes,” said Stephen.

“Did Mama tell you that everything was going to be alright?  Huh?  Now Daddy’s got a job and tomorrow we’ll have some money and everything’s great again.  Whadya’ think about that?”

     She would have sworn that she felt Stephen move but it was far too early for that.  “You feel all bubbly when you’re happy,” he told her.  “Like when you first found out about me.”

     She smiled widely and noticed that a woman on the other side of the aisle watched her, obviously wondering what had caused the wide smile. 

     “Stephen, I get happy just thinking about you.  Every day you make me happy.  I’m just so honored to be your mother.”  When he did not respond quickly, she lifted an eyebrow of curiosity and poked him again.  “And what about you, do you like the idea of me being your Mama?”

     “I’ll like it more when I’m out of here,” he said.

     “Why honey?  Aren’t you comfortable?”

     “There’s two things you eat, Mama.  One really is bad and the other makes your stomach have sounds that are loud and scary.”

     “What things?” she asked.

     “I don’t know the names of foods,” he reminded her.  “You ate the bad one today.  It sounded crunchy when you were eating.  You drank something cold and sweet with it.”

     “Salad,” she messaged thoughtfully, “and sweet tea.  But salad shouldn’t taste bad, baby.”

     “It does,” he assured her, “really bad.”

     “Vinegar,” she thought suddenly.  “I put vinegar on the salad and that’s what you don’t like.”

     Stephen paused briefly before adding, “The other thing you drink when you stop sleeping and start moving again.  It makes a lot of noise, Mama.”

     Sally lifted her eyes with recognition.  “Alka Seltzer, honey.  I drink that because my stomach isn’t too good in the morning.  When I get sick it makes a lot of noise, too, right?”

     “Lots of noise,” he agreed.

     “So the Alka Seltzer helps me but I’ll tell you what.  I won’t put vinegar on the salads any more, okay?”

     “Okay,” he agreed.

     Mark was preparing for bed when she entered the apartment.  He looked at her for a long moment but didn’t ask where she had been. 

     “Sit down,” she told him and watched him comply.  “I talked with Elizabeth.  She’s in France but I called her from my folks house.  They don’t know I called her but I didn’t have the money to use a pay phone.  Anyway, are you ready for this?”

     “For what?” he asked.

     “Tomorrow you dress up and look spiffy and get yourself to the Warrington Textiles Building where there’s a job waiting for you.”

     Mark’s astonishment was apparent.  “What kind of job?” he asked.  “I mean, it doesn’t matter.  I’ll do anything but I was just curious.”

     “I don’t know, honey,” she told him, moving to him and sitting beside him, taking his hand.  “They’ll find something for you to do and when Elizabeth gets back they’ll find something that matches your skills.  That’s what she told me.”

     Mark was shaking his head with amazement and tears were glistening on his eyes.  “Oh God,” he said with a moan, “I really didn’t think I’d ever have a job again.  That’s how bad it is out there.”

     “But that’s not all,” said Sally.  “You’ll get some money tomorrow, too.  I don’t know how much but it’ll help us get through this time, okay?”

     “Money before I work?” he asked with a stunned expression.

     “Yeah, and I want you to remember that we are going to get through any rough time ahead of us.  And there will be rough times.  But we’re in this together, the three of us, got that?”

     Mark nodded slowly, seeing the determination in her eyes and pulled her near to him within the circle of his arms and Stephen gave his first smile.

     It was the nights that Sally enjoyed most.  Stephen never went to sleep at the hour she wanted to and would ask baby questions until she was too weary to answer.  Even so, it was their time and she relished in each second of it.  The only difficult thing about what was happening between her and her unborn child was that she could tell no one about it.  No one would understand something that she knew was an absolute truth.  It was the first secret she and Stephen would share even though there would be many after.

     “Will you tell me something?” she messaged after Mark had surrendered to deep, slumber breaths.

     “What?” asked Stephen.

     “First, I’m very sorry about what your daddy said about not having you.  That was very wrong and it must have been difficult for you to hear.”

     Stephen responded quickly and with emphasis, “No, Mama.  I understand things like that.”

     “I don’t,” she confessed.  “I don’t understand how you could accept something like that so easily.”

     “It is something we just know, Mama,” he replied.  “Some are meant to live and others not.  If I couldn’t be with you I would just go back.”

     “Back where?” she asked with a burst of interest.

     “It’s a place,” offered Stephen.  “It is where I was.”

     Sally’s eyes opened wider and she felt her pulse leap with excitement.  “Tell me about the place, Stephen, please.”

     “It’s difficult,” he began, “it’s not somewhere, it’s everywhere.  There are energies there waiting.  If we are selected, then we enter our mothers and put on bodies like you put on clothes.  It is a place where everything is known and nothing is felt.  When we are selected and enter the world, everything is felt and nothing is known.”

     Her eyes moved over the faint images of furniture and lamps in the darkness.  She didn’t know what she was seeking, perhaps some signal that a great mystery would soon be resolved.

     “Is it heaven?” she asked.  “Is it heaven, Stephen?”

     “There are no names, Mama.  Nothing has a name.  It is only what is.  A name doesn’t describe anything, it just labels it.  I would still be me if you didn’t call me Stephen.”

     Her emotions were mounting and she was fearful the moment of such profound exploration would end.

     “Are all babies as wise as you?” she asked.

     She sensed that Stephen had released a deep sigh of resignation.  “It is the process, Mama.  You can’t know about it because you forgot what it is.  We come from the place where everything is known and soon I will be in your arms and the connection between us will be gone forever.  In that moment you will begin teaching me what you want me to know.  All I knew before losing the connection will be lost.  I will need to learn everything to exist in your world until I am old and return to the place.”

     Sally gasped with the narration.  “Stephen, are you saying people are born again?  Reincarnation?”

     “I am only saying there is a place where our energies stay before and after life.”

     “But that doesn’t answer me, Stephen,” she insisted.  “Are people born again after they die?”

     He paused for a moment and messaged in a lower, calmer tone.  “It is not so easy as that, Mama.  When I am born, what part of me will be you or daddy and what part will be me?  It is like that with all people, Mama.  We are all from the same nature and we are parts of everyone else, living and dead. 

“If you have a rose bush, all the roses come from the bush but can you tell if they are the same ones being repeated?  All you know is that they come from the same bush and so it is with humans, all having a singular source without anyone knowing it.”

“So,” said Sally thoughtfully, “we are reborn but only as symbols of everyone who went before us,” she thought.

     “Something like that,” answered Stephen and Sally felt suddenly humble that her tiny infant should be so knowing.  He recognized, in fact, that she was incapable of really understanding what he was telling her.

     “Is there God?” she asked hesitantly.  “Do you know, Stephen, is there a God?”

     “You are asking difficult questions, Mama,” he complained.

     “Please, just tell me this one.  Is there a God?”

     “Imagine that I gave you ten thousand books, Mama.  Each book is in a different language.  What would you learn from them?”

     “Nothing,” she replied.  “If I couldn’t read them, I wouldn’t learn anything.”

     “But would you agree that someone wrote the books?”

     “Yes, of course,” she replied.

     “That is God, Mama.  The creator of all things and so vast and powerful that we are not capable of understanding.  We cannot understand the universe that is His creation, all science and technology remain in awe of it.  If we cannot understand His creation, how can we pretend to know Him?  You can make all the paintings and statues and write all the books and sermons but no one can understand the thousand books of the realities of our universe.”

     “So there is a God,” she answered happily.

     “Someone wrote the books, Mama.”

     Not long after that, they slept.

 

DISCOVERY

 

     Mark had reported to the Warrington Building as Sally had instructed and within minutes was introduced to Carl Vittrone.

     “So you’re the new guy?” Vittrone had said when they were alone and the introduction had been completed.

     “That’s me,” replied Mark.

     “Word is that you’re pals with the boss,” said Vittrone.

     Mark smiled slightly and fixed his eyes onto Vittrone’s.  “I don’t know him,” he answered.  “The word’s wrong.”

     The man seemed more relaxed then and started to describe the duties that would be delegated to Mark.  He explained that he had 32 years with the company and wanted to retire.  He had purchased a small home in Idaho and wanted to fish and hunt the rest of his life without the worries or stress of urban life.

     Once they had toured the dock area of the building where several tractor-trailers were stationed, Vittrone led Mark to a small office with windows giving a broad view of the dock area.

     “I think in a couple of weeks you’ll have it down pat,” said Vittrone.

     Mark was eager to start.  He had much to prove and wanted to begin doing it.  “I can drive a forklift,” he offered, “I’ve got some experience.”

     “That’s good,” said Vittrone.  “Never know when you might need it.”

     “Yeah,” agreed Mark impatiently, “so where do I begin?  What do you want me to do?”

     Vittrone wore a perplexed expression.  “You’re doing it, Mark,” he replied.  “You have to learn my job.”            Mark couldn’t control the brief stammer of his voice and knew his comment was ridiculous as soon as it slipped through his lips.

     “But you’re the boss,” he said.  “I mean, you’re in charge of the whole dock area!”

     “Yeah, that’s right,” Vittrone told him.  “No one told you?  You’re taking my place and I want to get outta’ here as soon as possible so I don’t want to waste any time, okay?”

     In that first day, it became obvious to Mark that everyone was giving him special respect because he had been hired directly by the owners.  He was treated as though he had far more authority than he really possessed and Vittrone commented that the workers on the dock were working with special efficiency, probably out of fear of Mark’s imaginary authority.

     He realized that probably a lot of the attitudes of caution and respect came from the fact that his hiring bonus had been delivered to him minutes after his brief interview and the signing of his contract.  He was stunned with the first sight of the check, five thousand dollars.  The interviewer had spent all of ten minutes with him before extending the check in one hand and the other as a gesture of greeting.  “Welcome aboard,” the man said before he was led to the docks and Carl Vittrone.

     As much as the new job excited him, Mark couldn’t wait for the clock to reach five so he could rush home to Sally and show her the check.  He had spent part of the day mentally calculating all they could do with that much money.  His greatest satisfaction, however, was that Sally’s mother could no longer complain of his instability or inadequacies.  He would be the Shipping and Receiving Superintendent of a Forbes 500 company.  On the wall of the personnel office he had seen the organization chart of the company and recalled that the S&R Supervisor was number six below the board of directors and other division chiefs.  He felt humbled that he was given so much responsibility by someone who didn’t know him.  As he reflected on the dramatic changes in his life, he recalled something that had registered subconsciously but returned only now.  The first square, highest on the organization chart, had read, Elizabeth Warrington.

     It was Mark’s fifth day on the job when Sally was at the door of the apartment paying the rent to Mr. Bernstein when two men approached in grey coveralls.   

     “New York Tel, mam,” said one of the men.  “We’ve got an order to install phone service at this address.”

     Always cautious, Sally read the order and determined that it was authentic.  At the bottom of the order was the name of the person requesting service: Elizabeth Warrington.

     The installation was quick and efficient and when the men had left, Sally lifted the receiver to hear the dial tone and smiled broadly.  She could imagine calling Mark at work and telling him it was time for Stephen to join them.  The thought pleased her greatly.

     It was only three hours later when the telephone rang and Sally was surprised.  Surely it was the telephone company checking on the installation, she thought as she lifted the receiver and said, “Hello?”

     “Is this Sally?” came the gentle tones of a woman’s voice. 

     “Yes,” she replied hesitantly.

     “I’m Tina Ormand, Sally,” said the woman, “I’m Elizabeth Warrington’s secretary.  How are you?”

     “Oh!” Sally responded eagerly, “I’m fine, thank you.”

     “Mrs. Warrington wanted to know if I could send a car for you in a couple of hours so you could meet her at the airport.”

     “Oh, yes!” Sally exclaimed, “Oh, yes!  I’d like that very much!  But could you do me a favor?”

     “Of course,” said the woman.

     “Could you tell my husband where I’ve gone and I might be late?  He works on the docks.”

     “I know him, and yes, of course I’ll send him the message.”

     “It’s just that it’s dangerous to leave a note on the door,” explained Sally.  “Everyone knows you’re not at home.”

     “You’re quite right,” the secretary agreed.  “I’ll be sure that Mark receives your message and I’ll send the car to be at your address at two.  Mrs. Warrington’s flight arrives at two-forty.  The chauffeur will know which terminal.”

     “Thank you so much,” offered Sally and she heard the woman giggle softly.

     “You’re very welcome.  Goodbye.”

     Sally replaced the receiver and thought what a wonderful message to have as the first use of her new telephone.  Like Mark, her thoughts were driven to her mother who had always complained that they didn’t have a telephone in case of emergencies.  Now what would she find to complain about, she wondered.

     At precisely two o’clock, the black Lincoln pulled to the curb and the driver ceremoniously stepped out to open her door.  As she settled into the vehicle, she could spy the curtains parted at Mr. Berstein’s window and knew the landlord was permitting his curiosity to get the best of him.

     The driver did not speak but moved expertly through the traffic until Sally noticed he was not taking the route to Kennedy or LaGuardia.

     “Excuse me,” she said with a tap on his shoulder, “didn’t you miss the exit to the airport?”

     “No mam,” he replied.  “You’re thinking of the big airports, mam.  Mrs. Warrington uses Teterboro.  It’s closer and more convenient.”

     Sally had only heard of Teterboro Airport but had never actually seen it.  She wondered why Elizabeth would use a lesser known airport and what airlines used it.   She was beginning to feel nervous.

     “What airline is she coming on?” she asked.

     The man offered a wide smile in the rearview mirror.  “Mrs. Warrington has her own jet, mam.  Teterboro is for private jets.”

     Within minutes the car turned into the parking area of the airport and the driver showed an identification card to the gate guard.  The barrier lifted and they moved through the parking area and to the access street between the terminal and the runways. 

     “They should be arriving shortly, mam,” said the driver.  “Would you like for me to bring you something?  A Coke or coffee?”

     “No, thank you,” she answered and settled back into the lush seat, now comfortable that all was well.

     Two sleek jets landed before the driver announced that the one touching down was Elizabeth’s.  He exited the car to open her door and they stood in the warm sunlight as the jet taxied into place and the ramp stairs were pushed against the door.  When the door opened, Elizabeth stood at the top stair and waved enthusiastically at Sally.  As she descended, she was followed by one of the captains whose arms were laden with packages.

     When she approached, she drew Sally into her arms and kissed her cheek.

     “I am so happy to see you!” she exclaimed.  “You don’t know!”

     “Not as happy as I am!” Sally countered happily.

     The packages were placed in the trunk as the women slid into the car and waited for the driver. 

     “Are you tired?” asked Sally.  “It’s a long flight.”

     “Oh, heavens no,” replied Elizabeth.  “I sleep like a baby when we’re in the air.”

     “Didn’t your husband come with you?” Sally inquired.

     Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows with exasperation.  “He returned last week.  Couldn’t bear the thought of having a week in Paris with nothing to do.  Men,” she sighed.

     “I wanted to tell you,” started Sally but stopped abruptly as Elizabeth put a finger to her lips. 

     “Later,” said Elizabeth, “we’ll talk.”  She then leaned forward slightly and said, “You know where, right, Thomas?”

     “Yes mam,” the man replied and she leaned back again and renewed her smile.

     The conversation centered around Paris and its varied shops until Sally felt the car slowing and looked out the window to see the Manhattan Detention Complex.

     Without speaking, Elizabeth took Sally’s hand and led her through the glass doors and into the lobby of the jail.  It was there she moved to a row of plastic seats and beckoned Sally to sit beside her.

     “I’m going to share a very private moment with you, dear,” the woman said.  “I want you to know me and that my life isn’t as marvelous as it appears on the surface.  I know that flying to Paris and going to malls must seem like a fairyland life but in a few minutes you’re going to see some of the things I go through, okay?”

     Sally nodded without responding and stood at Elizabeth’s request and went to the reception window where a black guard with a broad face listened and then said coldly, “Visiting days for an inmate with a last name beginning with W isn’t until next week.”

     “Pull up Warrington in your computer,” said Elizabeth, “and you’ll see the judge’s order for a special visit.”

     “Mam . . .” the guard started to say before Elizabeth interrupted.

     “Please.”

     The guard’s sigh was one of disgust but she punched the keyboard forcibly and finally leaned forward to view the monitor before retrieving two visitor passes and stamping them.

     “The door on the right,” she said coldly.

     “Come,” said Elizabeth and Sally followed obediently.

     Another guard reviewed their passes and asked them to wait at a thick metal door.  Within seconds there was a hissing sound and the door opened to reveal a long row of stools situated in front of thick glass and a telephone. 

     They were led to a particular window and Elizabeth offered a thin, painful smile and patted Sally’s leg.  “We’re visiting my daughter, Sally,” she said.  “This is where she lives.”

     Sally’s face snapped into an expression of shock and pity and she moaned, “Elizabeth, are you sure?”

     “Absolutely,” she responded and quickly turned as a door opened beyond the glass and a thin, haggard young woman moved quickly to the other telephone.

     “Do you know how long I’ve waited?” the young woman scowled, “what are you going to do, let me stay in here forever?”

     “Not forever, Andie,” said Elizabeth, “just eight months.”

     Andie widened her eyes with surprise.  “Eight months?  I can’t stay in this place for eight months, Mom!  Just get me into a rehab program and they’ll let me out!”

     Elizabeth shook her head slowly.  “Not this time.  The judge gave you seven chances with rehab, Andie.  He says no more.  There’s nothing I can do.”

     “Well you damned well do something!” Andie scolded.  “What are you paying Schofield and Burton a fortune for?  Tell them to get off their asses and get me out of here!”

     Elizabeth held up a hand for Andie to be silent and offered calmly, “Instead of ranting about who should do what to get you out of here, you need to be thinking about what got you into here.  Do you understand?”

     Andie’s eyes shot toward Sally and Sally felt threatened by her stare.

     “Who’s that?” Andie asked.

     “A friend,” replied Elizabeth.

     “Oh, so you’re making a social event out of seeing me in here like this?”

     “No.  it’s not a social event.  It’s a friend who might have some ideas of what I can do with a daughter who wants to sniff cocaine more than have a baby.  What can I do with a daughter who cares more about parties and waking up in strange motels and calling her mother to come and get her than studying, creating a future or being a mother.”

     Andie lifted her eyes to the ceiling as if her mother’s comment was repugnant.

     “When is Dad coming?” she asked.

     “He isn’t,” replied Elizabeth.  “We talked it over and he’s not coming, Andie.  You’ve worn out all your chances and now you’re in the hands of the State of New York and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

     Andie’s mouth fell with astonishment.  “You’re just throwing me away like the weekend trash, huh?”

     “We didn’t do anything,” offered Elizabeth.  “You’re the one who got stopped for speeding.  You’re the one who had cocaine in their car.  You’re the one who violated their probation.  We didn’t do any of that.”

     Andie leaned closer to the window and lowered her voice as if not wanting anyone to hear.

     “Mom, the DA’s talking about prison!  Do you understand that?  Prison!”

     Elizabeth nodded.  “Do you know what the judge told me, Andie?  He said you’ve used up all of your get-out-of-jail-free cards.  He’s finished with you.”

     “Jesus, Mom!” the young woman moaned.  “You can’t let them send me away!  You just can’t!”

     “No, dear,” said Elizabeth calmly, “I can’t stop them.”

     Andie started to raise her voice in protest when a burly guard approached behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, announcing that time was up.

     “Do something!” Andie screamed.  “For God’s sake, do something!” 

     Sally watched as Elizabeth stayed until her daughter disappeared behind the closed door.  The woman gathered her purse, forced a tight smile and muttered, “Let’s go.”

     Once in the lobby, Elizabeth returned to the row of plastic seats and sat with a deep sigh. 

     “I don’t know what you think of me now,” she said absently without looking at Sally.

     “I think you’re very brave,” Sally responded.

     “Seven times in rehab,” Elizabeth recited slowly, “and seven promises of never again.          Seven times on probation and seven times violated them.  She left home when she was sixteen and we didn’t hear from her for weeks.  Finally a motel manager called us and told us she was alone in a room stoned out of her mind and she owed four days rent.  Then one day she appeared at our door and told us she was pregnant.  I told you about that.  We did everything to make her feel comfortable and secure and she had an abortion.  She said it was because of the reaction of her boyfriend when she told him about the baby.  That wasn’t true, either.  Nothing she tells us is true.  We discovered that the father was a black street corner drug dealer.  She had the abortion because she knew we’d see that the baby had a black father.

     “It’s been nothing but lies since she was thirteen and the police found her drunk after a party.  She told us it was a school event but it was really a bash at the home of some high school kids much older than her.  And we played the fools, John and me.”

     “That’s your husband?” asked Sally.

     Elizabeth nodded.  “We used our influence for her to graduate from high school when her grades weren’t good enough.  We got her into university by creating a new grant.  Her own car, credit cards, store accounts . . . . everything we probably shouldn’t have done but we wanted to be good parents, we really did.”

     “You were,” Sally assured her as she placed her hand over Elizabeth’s.  “It’s just that a lot of young people find themselves in a really ugly world and they let other people influence them instead of appreciating the love parents give to them.  I’m sorry but it was Andie’s decision, not your failure.”

     Elizabeth turned her eyes to Sally’s and her face softened.  “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that from someone,” she offered and suddenly stood and pulled Sally’s hand.  “Let’s get out of this place.”

     “Oh, thanks for the telephone,” said Sally as they walked, “and you don’t know how happy Mark is!”

     “How could I call you to meet me at the airport?” asked Elizabeth as they entered the car and Elizabeth said only one word to the chauffeur, “Home.”

     An odd silence grew between them as the car moved through the network of streets.  Each was lost in their thoughts of the day’s events and Sally was beginning to understand that all of Elizabeth’s wealth couldn’t cure her greatest needs.  At last the car moved to the curb on Fifth Avenue only a half block from Central Park.  Even though she had long known of Elizabeth’s social position, to arrive at the wealthiest section of the city surprised her.

     A doorman tipped his hat and welcomed Elizabeth politely.  Following them inside, he pushed the elevator button and waited diligently for its arrival.  As they entered the elevator, he pushed the button to the correct floor.  For a reason she didn’t understand, Sally felt uneasy being surrounded by such opulence. 

     The apartment was larger than most homes and structured around elegant columns and marble floors.  Elizabeth pulled the cord of the drapes that opened to reveal a sprawling view of Central Park.  Circular sofas featured the living room, placed strategically around a central fireplace.

     “It’s beautiful,” sighed Sally. 

     Elizabeth smiled with a curt shrug.  “It’s home away from home,” she responded.

     “You have another home?” Sally asked with a tone of astonishment.

     “In the Hamptons,” replied Elizabeth, “up north.  We try to go there as often as possible but it’s not easy.”

     With the sound of the doorbell, Elizabeth moved to the door and permitted the doorman and chauffeur to enter with a collection of bags and packages.

     “Put them all here,” she ordered with a finger pointing to the sofa. 

     Once the men had left Elizabeth rummaged through the packages to retrieve the special items she had purchased for Stephen.  Sally was enthralled with each item and found them to be unique and incredibly charming.  Lace fringed blankets, caps, fur collared snow suits and tiny shoes were lifted, viewed and given the long, aaahs of delight.

     As they assessed each item, the door opened and a stout woman entered wearing an apron over a blue uniform.

     “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” said the woman, “I took your things to the cleaners.”

     “Don’t worry,” said Elizabeth and motioned toward Sally.  “Martha, this is Sally.  She is always welcome here whether we’re at home or not.”

     “Yes mam,” said the woman and extended her hand to Sally.  “I’m pleased to meet you, mam” she said.

     When the woman had moved out of the room, Sally leaned forward with a lowered voice, “Elizabeth, whether you’re at home or not?  You can’t do things like that!”

     “Why not?” asked the woman.

     “Because you really don’t know me that well,” Sally said with an abrupt honesty.

     Elizabeth gave a half smile and shook her head.  “If you were a thief, you wouldn’t be protesting right now, you’d be celebrating.”

     “Maybe so,” replied Sally, “but you shouldn’t be so trusting.  I worry about you.”

     Elizabeth laughed aloud.  “You think I’m trusting?  Every one of my employees here in this building is bonded.  If they decided to steal something, insurance will cover it and replace it.”

     “This building?” asked Sally with awe, “You own this building?”

     Elizabeth nodded her answer.  “I am not trusting, dear.  I am very cautious but I am also very good at reading people.  I didn’t marry until I was thirty-six years old.  I didn’t think I could believe any man who said he loved me instead of my money.”

     Sally displayed her surprised again.  “I thought you married a rich man,” she confessed.

     “Heavens, no,” Elizabeth replied.  “Do you want to hear the story?  I enjoy telling it.”

     “Please,” said Sally.

     “The Warrington’s are a money family.  Generation after generation for who knows how far back.  My father inherited from my grandfather and I was the only child so guess what?  So I think I did a good job of managing our businesses and interests and I have more money today than I inherited.  Much more.  I did it by buying out smaller companies that fit nicely into our organization.  So one day I decided to make an overture to a medium sized firm called Beckham Pharmacies.  It appeared to be stable but wasn’t growing much and I knew there was much money to be made in the pharmaceutical business.  So I called the owner, Allen Beckham.  I asked him if he would be interested in talking about selling his businesses.  Instead of answering, he asked, ‘Are you the gal whose picture was in the society pages last week?’  Well, I said yes, it was me and he said, ‘I only do business over dinner.  Eleven Madison Park at eight sharp tomorrow.’  Then he hung up.  I was in shock.  No man talked to me like that, ever!  And do you know what?  I loved it.

     “The next day, exactly at eight o’clock, I walked into Eleven Madison Park, a really swank restaurant with French cuisine.  The waiter led me to a table where this man was seated.  He stood when I came near and I liked that, too.  He wasn’t the handsomest man in the world, but he wasn’t bad looking either.  So we ate and talked and when we had finished, he said, ‘I’ll drive you home.’  He wasn’t asking, he was telling me and I said nothing and I didn’t know why.  He got out and opened my door and saw me to the building and said, ‘I have to think about some of the details.  Remember I only do business over dinner so I’ll call you.’  I remember that he shook my hand and walked to his car and I just stood there like I was stunned.

     “It took six dinners and still we didn’t have an agreement and finally I said that we needed to get down to business and close the deal.  By that time we had learned a lot about each other and were talking like old friends instead of people negotiating business.  So he looks at me and reaches out and takes m hand and says, ‘I don’t want to sell.  I’ll consider a merger, but a one hundred percent merger.’  I asked what was that; a one hundred percent merger?  I’d never heard of something like that.  So he just said, we merge our businesses and our lives.

     “So Allen and me, we got married like it was some Wall Street transaction and we get along marvelously because we respect that our minds might be on some business deal instead of the morning breakfast.  Our only problem in all these years has been Andie.”

     Sally swallowed hard, recognizing that this was the moment to say the thing that had haunted her mind for weeks.

     “Elizabeth, you know I can never be Andie, don’t you?” she asked.

     “Of course,” she replied with a face filled with curiosity.  “You could never be like Andie any more than I could be like your mother.  See how honest we can be with each other?  That’s what makes us special.”

     “It’s just that you’ve done so much for us,” said Sally, “and I have nothing to give to you.  I didn’t want you to think of me as a substitute.”

     Elizabeth tilted her head with interest.  “But of course I think of you as a substitute, Sally.  Listen to me, please.  I’m a realist.  I never fool myself.  Andie’s going to prison.  She had six ounces of cocaine in her car and this is her seventh offense.  She’s going away for a long time and I know this is her last chance.  If she doesn’t get clean in prison and change her life around, one night I’m going to get a call to come to the morgue and identify her.  I have to accept those things.  No matter what she thinks, I’m not giving up on her because I’m a mother and we just don’t know how to do things like that.  I’ll visit her if she wants me to but I won’t leave a lot of money for her to buy drugs inside because believe me, drugs are available everywhere. 

     “So are you a substitute?  You bet.  I see in you everything I wish Andie had been.  Forgive me for that but I have to admit it for you and for myself.  If I don’t love you, I won’t love myself.  I’ll love that baby like the grandson I should have had.  And it wasn’t all planned like that, it was just that I happened to be in a place where you were on a particular day and at the particular hour that leads me to believe we need each other and we deserve each other.  I’m not going to question whatever force does things like that in people’s lives and I hope you won’t either.”

     Sally tried to control the tear mounting in her eye but it finally slid down her cheek and she nodded her agreement with Elizabeth.

     “I won’t intrude on your life, dear,” she continued.  “My heart goes out to Sally, my dear friend that was given into my life.  I don’t pretend that you’re Andie.  Don’t worry about that.  You’re Sally and you have your own place in my heart.  And I never want to be a part of what you and Mark have together.  That’s your private existence that I respect and want the best for both of you.  But those free moments, when he’s working and it’s just you and the baby . . . maybe you could share some of them with me?”

     Hours later, after dinner at an elite hotel restaurant, Elizabeth brought Sally home and parked in front of the brownstone. 

     “Would you like to come up and meet Mark?” asked Sally.

     “I’d like that very much,” she responded.

     Turning the key in the lock, Sally mused, “Let me peek in and make sure he’s not sitting there watching television in his boxers.”

     They laughed together with the thought and Sally returned quickly, holding the door open for her friend to enter.

     The introduction was not without its awkward moment.  To Sally Elizabeth was a dear friend but to Mark it was his employer. 

     “I need to thank you for the job,” Mark said hesitantly, “I guess I need to thank you for a lot of things.”

     Elizabeth pushed a finger into his chest.  “Outside of the Warrington Building, we are the dearest of friends.  Inside the building I’m the boss from hell and everything is business.  Carl tells me that you’re doing really well and I appreciate that.”

     Mark expressed his gratitude again as Elizabeth nudged Sally asking, “Does he know that I’m going to be the godmother?”

     Sally giggled lightly.  “He knows.”

     “I think our son is the luckiest kid in the world,” said Mark.  “It’ll be a real honor to have you as his godmother.”

     “Ah, but not one of those just in name only godmothers,” said Elizabeth.  “Most people don’t even remember who their godparents are.  I want to be the real thing.”

     Sally hugged her tenderly and asked, “And your husband?  Will he be the godfather?”

     “Allen?” asked Elizabeth incredulously, “he’d be a really lousy godfather, Sally.  He’s on more board of directors than he remembers.  His mind is always somewhere else and he wouldn’t remember Stephen’s name most of the time.  No, we don’t want him.”

     Mark put his arm around Sally’s waist as he announced, “Then there won’t be a godfather.  A godmother will be enough, especially if it’s someone like you.”

     Elizabeth put her hands to her mouth in a gesture of pure emotion and stepped forward to kiss Mark’s cheek.

     Mark was wise enough to recognize that women always needed their moments alone and excused himself politely.  When he was behind the closed door, Elizabeth offered, “I like him.  There’s something really genuine about him.”

     “He’s a good man,” said Sally.

     “Listen,” Elizabeth began, “we need a code word.  If ever I call and your mother is here, it’s going to be too uncomfortable to speak with me so we need a code word so I’ll know the situation.  I know, if you say, ‘Sorry but I’m not interested,’ it’ll sound like one of those telemarketers had called.  I’ll know that the coast isn’t clear, okay?”

     “I’m sorry she’s like she is,” Sally agreed sadly. 

     Elizabeth chuckled lightly.  “What are we going to do, huh?  I’ve got Andie and you’ve got your mother.  We just have to suck it up and move forward, right?”

     “Right,” Sally replied and they laughed together as they shared a goodbye embrace.

     Hours after Elizabeth had left, Mark and Sally chatted about their good fortune in having someone in their lives that seemed so caring and generous.  They could not understand why Elizabeth had becomes such an important ingredient in their lives but they were appreciative beyond measure.

     “I have to get up early,” said Mark at last and turned to pound his pillow into the wanted shape.  “It really sounds good to say that.  I have to get up early and go to work.  There are so many guys less lucky than me who’d love to say that.”  Soon after he had closed the dark curtain of sleep about him and was lost within himself.

     “Mama?” asked Stephen in the darkness.

     “What is it, honey?”

     “I can move a little,” he announced.

     “Really?” she asked excitedly, “that’s wonderful!”

     “Not much, but a little,” he confirmed.

     Sally placed her hands on her stomach.  “Can you feel that?” she asked.

     “Uh huh.”

     “You’re nine weeks old now, baby.  You’re doing just fine.  And your godmother visited today.  You’re going to love her.”

     There was a long silence that tested Sally’s patience but she messaged nothing and waited.

     “You need to help her, Mama,” he said at last.

     “Elizabeth?  Your godmother?”

     “Yes.”

     “How?”

     “I don’t know.  She has a secret,” said Stephen.

     “What kind of secret?”

     “An old one,” Stephen answered.

     She kept her hands on her stomach after that and stared into the darkness, wondering what in Elizabeth’s past was waiting to be discovered.

 

CONFRONTATION

 

 

     After weeks of silence, Sally wondered how her mother could be so defiant and stubborn.  Countless times she was tempted to call but had always hung up the phone and tried to dismiss her disappointment from her mind.  It was Stephen who told her that she was being exactly like her mother in her reluctance to call and so it was that she dialed the number and placed the receiver to her ear.

     “Hello Barbara,” she offered kindly, “how are you?”

     “I’m as well as can be expected,” was the reply and as always, open to interpretation.

     “I just wanted to check on you and Dad,” said Sally, “and to give you our new telephone number.”

     “Let me get a pen,” was the reply.

     Once the number had been given and repeated, Sally continued with, “Why don’t you come by and have some coffee with me?”

     “You won’t be too busy?” her mother asked.

     “Not at all,” said Sally, forcing herself to be patient and accepting.

     “I have to go to town anyway for your father’s birthday present, maybe I can stop by tomorrow.”

     “Great,” said Sally, silently condemning herself for not remembering her father’s birthday.  “What does Dad want for his birthday?  Has he mentioned anything?”

     “A putter, can you imagine that?”  her mother replied.  “Everything is golf these days.  I think it’s an addiction.  I’m not going to buy it.  It’s silly to spend that much on something like that.”

     “What kind of putter?” asked Sally.

     “God knows what the thing is,” Barbara replied.  “It’s called an anchor putter or something like that but they cost a fortune.  He’ll have to settle for a billfold.  His is pretty worn out anyway.”

     That afternoon Sally priced anchor putters at local sports stores and found the cheapest to be $229.00.  There was more than have of Mark’s bonus in the bank so she did not hesitate and asked that it be gift wrapped.  The following day she waited for her mother’s visit but there was no knock at the door or telephone call all day.

     Fortunately, her father’s birthday fell on a Sunday and as Sally dressed, Mark gazed out the window to the old Plymouth with the blown transmission.

     “Next month we need to buy a car,” he called to the other room.

     “Really?” asked Sally, peeking past the edge of the door.  “Do you think we can do that?”

     “Maybe not a new one but a good used one on credit,” he answered.

     Before Sally could answer, the telephone sounded and Mark answered.

     “It’s for you,” he called and Sally rushed with half of her hair still in curlers.

     “Hi!” she said cheerfully, “We’re great, and you?  Good.  Oh, we’re getting ready to go to my parent’s home.  It’s my Dad’s birthday.  Yeah.  And guess what?  Mark was just saying that next month we can start looking for a car to buy.  I mean, with the baby and all, we’ll need one, right?”

     There was a long pause as Sally listened and suddenly she glanced toward Mark.

     “You don’t have a company car, right?” she asked.

     “No,” he replied. 

     “Seriously?  Are you kidding?” gasped Sally.  “Oh, God, that would be so great!  But you’re sure it’s not a special favor?  Really?  Okay, we’ll wait.  Thanks, Elizabeth.  What’s that?  Wednesday?  Sure.  Sounds like fun!”

     Finishing the call, Sally turned to Mark with a broad smile.  “Your company car will be delivered in a few minutes.”

     “I don’t think Carl Vittrone has a company car,” Mark observed.  “No one said anything about one.”

     “She says that your position requires a company car.  You want to refuse it?” she teased.

     An hour later they entered the driveway of Sally’s parent’s home and retrieved the long package from the back seat.  As always, her father greeted them warmly while her mother parted the curtains to spy the new car with low mileage in her driveway.

     “Your friend loaned you a car?” she asked, planting a peck on their cheeks as a greeting.

     “What friend?” asked Mark.

     “Sally’s friend, the rich one,” said her mother.

     Sally felt her irritation mounting but sighed deeply and counted to ten.  “It’s a company car, Mother,” she replied.

     “What company?” she asked.

     “Obviously, the company where Mark works,” was Sally’s reply.

     “He’s not working construction?”

     Sally blew a breath of exasperation before replying, “No, Barbara, he’s not.”

Her father wisely intervened, putting his arms around their shoulders and telling them how pleased he was that they came to celebrate his birthday.  It seemed a good moment to present their gift and her father examined the large, elongated box with interest.   

“Well, it’s not a necktie,” he mused as he tore away the wrapping.  Seeing the image of the putter on the outside of the box, his mouth fell agape and he shook his head in disbelief.  Within seconds he had the putter pushed against his stomach and was making practice strokes on the carpet.  “How did you do something like this?” he asked.  “This is exactly what I wanted.”

“Mom told me,” chimed Sally.

Her mother watched her husband with his gift and frowned deeply.  “I didn’t mean for you to do something foolish and go in debt,” she opined.

“No one went into debt, Mother,” said Sally.  “We’re just glad that you like it, Dad.”

“Like it?  This will cut four or five strokes from my handicap,” he exclaimed.

Handing the small package with the bright ribbon to her husband, her mother snarled, “Well, it certainly makes my present look like a big nothing, but I don’t have a rich friend.”

Sally planted her fists on her hips and frowned angrily.  “I know this is going to be very disappointing to you, Mother, but we bought Dad’s present with our money; money that Mark earned.  And that car is his because he has an executive position with a very big company.  My rich friend had nothing to do with Dad’s present and all I really wish is that you could be a friend to me too.”

“What a cruel thing to say!” gasped her mother.  “I’m your mother!  I’m not someone you gossip with, I’m the one who’s there if you really need them!  When everyone else is gone, your mother will be there!”

“Really?” asked Sally defiantly.  “And it’s my friend who’s ruining my father’s birthday?”

“A wallet!” exclaimed her father loudly, obvious in his attempt to interrupt the dispute.  “My old one is falling apart, thanks, honey.”  He moved to her and kissed her cheek, feeling it flushed with anger.  “Now why don’t we have dinner and stop all this foolishness?”

Sally helped set the table without asking but a frosty silence fell between her and her mother.  When the meal was served, only Mark and her father held a conversation and everyone felt uncomfortable.  As soon as dessert was finished, she stood to gather the dishes but heard her mother say, “Don’t bother, I’ll take care of them.”

Without the activity of the meal, there seemed like nothing to do but to wish her father a happy birthday and to offer their goodbyes.  Her mother gave light pecking kisses on their cheeks and said only, “goodbye.”

Sally sobbed on the way home and Mark put his hand on hers and whispered only, “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” she muttered.  “Why can’t she be happy for us?  I don’t even know if she’s happy about the baby.  She’s never told me anything except complaints and accusations.”

“Sally,” said Mark sternly, “you need to understand that it’s her problem, not yours.  We did the right thing going to the house and having a great present for your Dad.  If she has a problem with that, it’s still her problem, not ours.  We need to feel sorry for her but not let it affect our lives.”

She grew silent, knowing that any answer would dilute the meaning of Mark’s comment.  It was easier for him, of course.  His parents had been delighted with the news of Sally’s pregnancy.  They had even sent a card of congratulations and asked many questions as grandparents are supposed to do.  She could not help but compare their reaction with that of her mother. 

“And I’m an executive?” asked Mark with a wide grin.  “What a fibber you are!”

She pouted for a moment before answering, “Well, you’ve got a company car and that’s what executives have.”

“They also have expense accounts,” he teased her.  “I have a time card.”

In the days that followed, Sally tore another page for the calendar and thought that it was a month closer to the arrival of Stephen.  She was now in her fourth month and the bulge of her stomach was noticeable. 

She had given thought to how much Stephen would change their lives.  Articles she had read told of how much of the romance of a young marriage fades with the arrival of a baby.  She tightened her lips in thought and promised herself she would not permit that to happen.

In considering their lives, she concluded they had never been so secure or confident.  There was no problem now in paying the bills and she could go to the market with or without coupons.  All of it, she reasoned, was thanks to Elizabeth and with the thought of the woman she recalled her mother’s obvious jealousy.  Mark was right, she decided, it wasn’t her problem.

Elizabeth visited regularly and always seemed to have time for a quick lunch, a trip to the mall or a matinee movie.  Their conversations covered a wide range of topics but always with complete trust and openness.  Sally told of the conflict with her mother and Elizabeth gave glowing reports of how well Mark was doing on the job.  Carl Vittrone had retired the week before and Mark was now officially the dock supervisor.

Everything Sally needed to feel from her mother was felt in her relationship with Elizabeth.  She had no hesitancy to tell her about the events of her life, her internal struggles or doubts.  Her only secret was her continued communication with Stephen that defied all description.

On one Tuesday Elizabeth called with a nervous voice asking, “Sally, hon, would you do me a big favor and go with me tomorrow?”

“Sure, where?” asked Sally.

“The Manhattan Criminal Court,” she said.  “Tomorrow is Andie’s sentencing.”

“What time?” Sally responded, “of course I’ll go with you.  You shouldn’t be there all alone.”

The hearing was held in a squared stone building, cold and official in appearance.  They walked up the concrete steps and smiled their appreciation when a kindly man held the door for them.  Reading the directory, they went up a flight of stairs to enter the richly paneled courtroom with a scattering of people, all apprehensive and fearful.  Sally examined faces and thought that each had a relative or loved one whose fate was in the balance of the next few moments.  With the thought, her hand automatically grasped Elizabeth’s.

A prisoner’s dock was at one side of the room and they were led into the room with handcuffs and ankle chains.  They were seated in a row, each anxiously viewing the room as if searching for a familiar face.  Andrea was in the middle of the group and when her eyes fell upon her mother, her face grew tight and antagonistic.

One by one the names were called and the prisoners stood to receive their sentences.  They were given an opportunity to speak in their own behalf and the judge asked if anyone was in the courtroom with something to be heard before sentencing.  One by one they told of their remorse and how another chance would bring positive results.  As often as not, the judge was insensitive to the plea and ordered lengthy jail sentences or a date for them to be transported to a prison facility.  Some parents in the audience came forward in various cases and gave the typical statement that their son or husband wasn’t a bad person really, but had fallen in with the wrong crowd.  Each pledged to give renewed efforts in having the accused committed to a new life.  In only one case did the judge grant probation and that was because it was a first offense.

When the court clerk called, “Andrea Warrington” and recited a case number and the charge of criminal possession of a controlled substance in the third degree, Sally felt Elizabeth tighten her grip on her hand. 

“Do you have anything you want to say to the court?” asked the judge.

“You can’t send me to prison, judge,” said Andrea.  “My mother’s here, she’ll tell you.  I’ll go to a rehab center and get cleaned up.  I’’ll do community service and everything but you can’t send me to prison!”

The judge leaned slightly forward with a dark frown.  “Young lady, I have news for you.  First of all, I certainly can send you to prison and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.  You have been given every leniency the court can offer and you have violated our trust every time.  Seven convictions and you should have gone to prison a long time ago.”

“But that was . . .” Andrea started.

“Be quiet while I’m speaking!” the judge snapped.  “You have been to rehab programs, you’ve received the benefit of numerous probations and still you’re here, charged again with a drug offense. 

“So I have declared you as an adult and I am going to sentence you to the maximum of nine years in the state penitentiary for this charge and by revoking your probation, I’m sentencing you to another six years on that drug offense.  That makes a total of fifteen years and I suggest your use your time wisely and try to salvage something from your privileged life.”

“You can’t!” shouted Andie.  “Fifteen years?  That’s ridiculous!  You can’t do that!”

Having heard all he wanted, the judge ordered the bailiff to remove Andie from the courtroom and as she was led past the door, she turned to look at Elizabeth with a final plea written on her face.  Watching her leave, Elizabeth wiped a tear from her eye and stood to leave.

From the courthouse they drove to a small cafe that served cinnamon rolls and a variety of coffees.  Elizabeth’s hands were shaking and she dabbed her eyes occasionally.

“She’s my daughter,” she said apologetically, “I can’t help it.  Fifteen years is a long time.”

Sally forced a comforting smile.  “We can only pray that it’s long enough,” she offered.

“You’re right, of course,” said the woman, “at least she’ll be alive.  Out on the streets I don’t think she’d survive fifteen years the way she was going.”

The waitress delivered their order, interrupting the discussion.  Elizabeth sipped from the cup and fixed her hands around its warmth to ease her trembling.

“She’s not really mine,” she said suddenly.  “In a way, all this is my fault.”

Sally touched her hand, saying, “Now, don’t start thinking like that.”

“No, you don’t understand.  I didn’t tell the whole story.  I told you I was thirty-six before I got married.  Well, a couple of years went by and I started to realize that I was getting too old to start having children.  Then a doctor friend suggested that we adopt.  He told us about a patient that was pregnant but was using heroin.  He warned me.  He warned me that there could be consequences of raising a baby born with an addiction.  All the experts said that if we took good care of the baby and it had good nutrition and parenting, there would be little chance of a behavioral problem later.  I didn’t listen.  She was such a beautiful baby.  I felt sorry for her and I thought she needed me.  And it all came down to this.  It came down to today and Andie going off to prison for a big part of her life.  Maybe if I had listened to the doctor or maybe if we had just been content without a child. . . “

“And what would have happened to Andie then?” asked Sally.  “Would anyone have given her better care than you did?  Would she ever have so many opportunities for a good life?  Don’t beat yourself up over this.  It’s not your fault.”

As she spoke she recalled Stephen telling of Elizabeth’s old secret.  He was right and had sensed something his mother could never have detected.

“Allen’s totally insensitive to Andie now,” she informed Sally.  “He gave up on her a long time ago and I was angry with him.  But maybe he was right.  He said there were things you couldn’t force people to do.  If Andrea wanted to be a drug addict and run with those despicable people, there was nothing we could really do about it.  He started to believe in that bad seed idea.  But I still miss the little girl in the photos I have at home.  The little girl whose hair I brushed and read bedtime stories.  That image won’t go away and it really hurts after today.”

Sally knew there was little to be said.  There was no way she could understand her friend’s pain or give comfort for something she could not comprehend.  She could only be there with Elizabeth and that she enjoyed always.

The newspapers carried the story of the conviction of the daughter of a socialite millionaire but it didn’t seem to annoy Elizabeth.  As the days passed she slowly returned to her old self and shared moments with Sally at every opportunity.

“Have you had a sonogram?” Elizabeth asked on one of her visits.

“Not yet,” Sally told her.  “They said I had to have at least eighteen weeks.”

“Who said?” Elizabeth questioned.

Sally answered automatically, “At the clinic,” and instantly realized it was an error.

“Clinic?” Elizabeth said with a frown.  “What clinic?”  When Sally was hesitant to answer, Elizabeth expressed her shock and scolded, “You’re not going to one of those free clinics, are you?”

“They’re really very good,” Sally tried to say in her defense.  “I mean, I started there when we didn’t have much money and Mark was later out of work.  I just kept going.”

“Good God,” gasped Elizabeth.  “Those are usually doctors doing their residency.  They’re doing their practice, they’re not real experts.  Let me make an appointment for you with a real obstetrician gynecologist.  I can’t believe this.  A free clinic?”

Two days later Sally sat in the sterile waiting room with padded sofas and a collection of magazines.  Elizabeth had wanted to accompany her but the appointment fell on the date of a board meeting at the company.   Unlike the clinic, the women around her were busy minding their own affairs without sharing a smile or starting a conversation.  Each was turning the pages of a magazine or punching a text message.  She thought it was very strange but remained as aloof as everyone else for appearance sake.

“Mama,” she felt Stephen calling.  “Where are we?”

“At the doctor’s office, baby.  He’s going to check and make sure everything’s okay with both of us.”

“But these are all different babies than before.”

“Yes, Stephen, we’re seeing a different doctor.”

Stephen was quiet for a moment as if assessing his surroundings.

“Who’s next to you, Mama?”

“On which side?” she messaged.

“The side with the most light,” he replied.

“She came in a little after us, baby.  She’s a woman with expensive shoes,” observed Sally.  “She has blond hair and is very pretty.”

Stephen appeared to be processing all the information before saying more.  “Mama, her baby has problems,” he said with deliberate tones.  “She drinks things that she doesn’t like.”

Sally frowned with the message.  “If she doesn’t like it, why does she drink it?” she asked.

“No, Mama.  The baby is a girl.  She doesn’t like what her Mama drinks.  It makes her feel strange and makes her sleep too much.”

Sally examined the woman diligently.  According to Stephen she was drinking alcohol while pregnant, one of the prime prohibitions.  It was obvious that the woman was far more along than herself and Sally estimated her pregnancy to be about six or seven months.  Sensing Sally’s stare, the woman glanced toward her with a frown and turned slightly away in her seat.

     With annoyance written clearly on her face, the woman glared again at Sally and stood to move to the appointment desk. 

     “I’ve been waiting quite a while,” she said, “will it be much longer?”

     The secretary gave a warm smile, answering, “No, Mrs. Morgan, it won’t be long and I apologize that we’re running a big behind schedule.

Seconds later a nurse peeked from a door and called Sally’s name.  She was led to an examination room and given a gown to put on.  Moments later a kindly man introduced himself as Doctor Spielman.  He was elderly and warmly considerate and spoke with her before giving an examination.  He seemed pleased to tell her that everything seemed to be well and in the next visit they could give a sonogram.

“Can I speak to you in confidence?” asked Sally.

“Why yes, of course,” said the doctor.

Sally sighed deeply, gaining courage to speak.  “It’s just that I love babies and I don’t want to seek one damaged before it comes into the world,” she began.

“Neither would I,” agreed the doctor solemnly.

“It’s Mrs. Morgan.  She’s waiting outside. . . “

“Evelyn Morgan, yes.”

Sally fixed her eyes on the doctor and said firmly, “She’s drinking too much and hurting the baby.”

“You know that for a fact?” asked the doctor.

“Yes.”

“You know Evelyn?”

“No, but I was told by someone who knows very well.  I just think it’s my responsibility to tell you.”

The doctor nodded slowly.  “Thank you,” he offered.  “I’ll look into it and, of course, she won’t know who told me.”

The following day Sally was preparing dinner when she heard a knock at the door.  Wiping her hands on a towel, she opened it to find her parents with a large shopping bag.

“Can we come in?” asked her father joyfully and kissed her cheek.

Her mother repeated the gesture, the required peck on the cheek but said nothing as a greeting.

“Hey, look at this place!” exclaimed her father.  “It’s really nice!  I mean it, all warm and cozy!”

“Sit down,” said Sally leading them to the living room area. 

“We went to Walmart and bought a couple of packages of these things,” he said.  “You’ll need to start stocking up on them.”

Sally gazed into the bag to see packages of newborn diapers and offered her appreciation with a hug and kiss.

“What’s cooking?  Smells good,” he said.

“George!” snapped her mother.  “We can’t stay.  We just wanted to stop by and give you the diapers.”

Sally smiled broadly.  “Why not stay for dinner?” she offered.  “Mark’s due home any minute.#

“We can’t,” began her mother.

Sally’s father turned to his wife and protested, “Why not?  We never visit the kids.  Dinner sounds good.”

“Great!” said Sally and moved to the kitchen as she heard her mother scolding in the background.

The table was set and food steaming in pots when Mark turned the key in the door and entered.  His surprise was obvious and he shook hands with his father-in-law and gave a cursory greeting to Sally’s mother.

It was not until he had washed his hands and was seated at the table that Sally’s mother noted the uniform shirt with its logo that Mark was wearing.

“Warrington Enterprises?” she said with a sour tone.  “As in Elizabeth Warrington?”

Sally felt her anger instantly boiling.  “And Allen Warrington,” she replied.

“I’m not surprised,” she said with a tone of displeasure. 

“Not surprised at what?” asked Sally.

Sally’s mother turned to face Mark, telling him, “You never did a very good job of finding work on your own, now did you?  So I’m not surprised that your executive position and company car are gifts from Sally’s new friend.”

Sally stood suddenly with her fists clenched in rage but felt Mark’s hand on her arm and heard him say, “Sally, sit down.”  He turned his attention to her father saying, “Sir, I truly respect you and you’re a wonderful father-in-law.  I don’t mean to offend you but there are some things I need to say to your wife.”

Sally’s father nodded with a half-smile as if wanting to hear what was coming.

“Mam,” Mark said, fixing steely eyes on the woman’s face, “first of all, I didn’t marry you.  I married your daughter and when I did that I promised to take good care of her and protect her.  That means from you too, if necessary.  If you’re jealous of Sally’s friend, you’ll have to work that out for yourself.  But I want you to know that I work hard every day and I have more responsibility than I want but I’m doing it and will continue to do it.  There are millions of unemployed men out on those streets and if you want to pick me out of all of them to accuse of being lazy or worthless, then that’ll be your problem, too.  A friend gave me a job.  I won’t apologize for that.  I was grateful like you should be that your daughter is secure and happy.  But as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never been happy about anything.  You didn’t approve of Sally marrying me and when we start proving you wrong, you’re even less happy.  I haven’t heard you say anything about being excited about the baby because you were too busy thinking the worst about everything.

“You will always be welcome here because you’re Sally’s mother.  But I will ask you to keep your snide remarks and rude opinions to yourself.”

Before saying anything, Sally’s mother threw her napkin into her plate and stood.  “Let’s go,” she said to her husband, “now!”

“Barbara,” said Mark’s father-in-law, “I think you should sit down and listen.”

“Either we leave now or I’m leaving alone!” she said loudly.  “And you’re just going to sit there and let him talk to me like that!”

“Yeah,” said her husband.  “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am.  I’m tired of not seeing my daughter because you ruin every visit.  Mark didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

Sally quickly stood and moved to console her mother but was greeted with a hand gesturing halt. 

“I don’t think I’m part of this family anymore,” the woman said with a sound of lamentation.  “You have your friend who wants my daughter because her own is in prison!  She did such a good job with her own child, now she wants to steal mine!  And I think she already has my daughter and I’m just an intruder.  If you all want to turn against me, go ahead.  I only try to do what’s right and tell the truth about things!”

“Mother,” Sally started.

“No, don’t call me mother.  You took that name away from me.  Elizabeth Warrington bought my daughter and my son-in-law at bargain prices and my husband thinks its okay.”

She gathered her purse as she spoke and moved to the door.  “Are you coming or not?” she asked her husband.

Sally’s father sighed deeply and stood.  “I’ll see you kids later, okay?”

Sally and Mark gave their farewell and watched the door close into a hollow silence.  Sally was surprised that she wasn’t crying.  She should have been devastated by all her mother had said but knowing that none of it was true, she could only feel a deep sadness and wonder how her mother could live with such dark, consuming negativism. 

The newspaper article about Andrea had probably brought her mother great satisfaction, thought Sally.  Instead of being compassionate and sensitive to the feelings of another mother, the tragedy was used against Elizabeth.  Thinking back over the years, Sally could not recall her mother shedding a tear or displaying any signal of apathy.  There was a stark coldness to her that caused Sally to wonder what her father had seen in her. 

“You marry him if you want to!” she had once warned Sally.  “But just remember that you’re going to have a life of poverty and hardship.  This boyfriend of yours has no education, to trade or profession or anything to offer you.  But don’t listen to me.  What do I know?  I’m just your mother.”

The words and many more from the pages of the past returned to Sally and she later turned down the covers and crawled into bed to kiss Mark goodnight.

“I’m sorry I caused such a big problem,” he said in the darkness.

“You didn’t,” Sally told him.  “You said what had to be said.  I loved you for it.”

When the world had settled into the pulse of night, Stephen called softly from his chamber.

“What is it, baby?” she asked.

“I don’t like it when you’re angry or sad, Mama.”

“Can you feel it?” she asked.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, I’m not angry or upset with you, Stephen.”

“I know,” he replied.  “It’s grandmother.”

Sally blinked with a new thought and a faint smile touched her lips.

“Stephen, what do you know about your grandmother?  Like Elizabeth, your godmother, do you know of any secrets or things about my mother?”

Stephen grew silent as if considering whether to answer or not.

“She has a lot of pain,” he said softly.

“Physical pain?  Is she sick?”

“No, Mama,” said Stephen,  “She doesn’t know how to show that she’s sad so she changes it to anger.”

Sally felt her interest alerted and asked, “What’s she sad about?”

“His name was Paul.  I felt her thinking about him twice.  Paul from when she was very young.”

“I’ve never heard her mention a Paul,” Sally confided.  “Who was he?”

“She loved him very much.  When she came the first time, she looked at where we live and thought it would have been like that if she had been with Paul.  That was the first time she thought of him that I received.”

“And the next time?” asked Sally.

“When she talked about Daddy.  She thought Daddy was a lot like Paul.  She thinks Daddy will hurt you someday and she’ll need to be there to help you.”

Sally gasped slightly.  “Your daddy would never hurt me, Stephen.  You can’t believe things like that.”

“I don’t,” he responded, “but grandma does.”

Sally settled back against the pillow in thought.  “Thank you, Stephen,” she whispered and reviewed all Stephen had said.  She then decided that tomorrow she would call Aunt Alice.

“Paul?” asked Aunt Alice after hearing Sally’s question.  “How in the world do you know about him?”

“I just do,” said Sally.  “Please, Aunt Alice, I really need to know.  Tell me about my Mom and this Paul.”

“Oh good Lord,” the woman moaned, “I never thought I’d hear about all that again.  “If I tell you I don’t want you go and telling Barbara it was me.”

“She’ll never know, I promise,” said Sally.

“They were boyfriend and girlfriend but no one knew it.  They kept it a big secret.  Barbara was, let me see, about sixteen at the time and Paul was in his mid-twenties so it had to be a really hush-hush thing, you know?”

“Yeah,” agreed Sally.

“So anyway, we were living in Illinois back then before your grandpa moved us to New York.  One day Barbara went off to school and didn’t come home.  I was fourteen then and everyone was asking me where she was and I really didn’t know anything.  That same day they notified the police and everyone was hysterical with worry.  She didn’t come home that night or the next or the next and finally it was weeks.

“Then one day some state troopers came to the house and said Barbara was at the police station in Peoria, about fifty miles away.  Your grandpa and grandma rushed down there to bring her home but she didn’t want to come.  The police had found her and Paul living in a shabby apartment and he was arrested because she was a minor.  He went to jail and when he got out, he tried to contact Barbara but my Mom and Dad just burned the letters.  Barbara never knew about them until years later when I made the mistake of telling her about them.  I guess when Paul didn’t get any answers he just gave up and went away. 

“Everyone thought he was a kind of monster, being with a young girl like that, but I always thought he really cared about Barbara.  I mean, after going to jail and all and then still wanting to see her, there must have been something, right?”

“Yeah, probably,” said Sally.

“So after all that, she was never the same.  George came along years later and went head over heels for her.  I mean, she was always a looker, your mother.  So George wanted to marry her and she put him off for a while.  She took a trip to Peoria and went to their old flat to see if Paul was still around.  No one knew anything about him so she came back and told George yes, she would marry him.  To this day I’m sure George doesn’t know anything about Paul.

“That’s the whole story like I remember it but remember, I don’t want her knowing we talked, okay?”

Sally’s voice was hollow and faint.  “She won’t, thanks, Aunt Alice.  But tell me, do you think Aunt Sarah would know a few more details?”

Aunt Alice laughed aloud.  “No way, Sally.  She was the youngest and doesn’t remember anything about all that.”

“But maybe Mom talked to her during her visits,” Sally insisted.

“Visits?  What visits?  Sarah hasn’t seen your mother in God knows how many years.  She keeps telling me that we need to all get together some Christmas or something before we start dying off.”

Sally frowned with all she heard and her voice carried her doubts.  “But she visited Aunt Sarah every year that I can remember.  Two weeks every June she’d go to Urbana to visit.  We always called it Mom’s vacation.”

Alice spoke with a firmness that convinced Sally of the truth.  “Good God, child, your mother hasn’t visited Sarah or me since she got married.  Anyway, Sarah lives in Pennsylvania, not Urbana.  That’s somewhere in Illinois, right?”

Everything was different after that.  Sally put her mother in a new perspective that was understandable.  Love can have many consequences and the anger held within her mother was now identifiable and had substance.  Sally was relieved that her objections toward her mother were slowly altered into a sad realization of a lost promise.

  Not long after the confrontation with her mother, Elizabeth called and asked if they could have lunch together.  She was constantly monitoring if the “baby bulge” was becoming more noticeable and visited maternity shops throughout the city.

It was over dessert that Sally related the incident and told of her strange call to her aunt.  Elizabeth listened intently as always before responding, “What do you think?  She’s been visiting this lost lover all these years?”

“What else?” asked Sally.  “Maybe she’s still in love with him.”

Elizabeth lifted a fork as a gesture.  “Have you got a name?”

“Just Paul,” Sally informed her.  “I don’t know a last name.”

“So your Mom was sixteen when all this happened and they arrested this guy.  Do you know where that happened?”

“Aunt Alice said they found Mom with this Paul in Peoria.”

Elizabeth retrieved a pen from her purse and was busy jotting information on a napkin. 

“How old is your Mom now?”

“Fifty-six,” said Sally.

“Forty years ago,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully.  “Do you want to get to the bottom of this?”

“Yeah,” Sally answered pensively, “yeah, I do.”

Elizabeth gave a quick wink, saying, “We’ve got top notch security people.  We’ll have all the information in no time.”

 

REVELATION

 

     “Paul Quantrill,” Elizabeth was saying as she held the warm coffee cup within her hands.  “He has a bicycle repair shop in Urbana, same location more than thirty years.  No arrest record except for that time with your mother.  I checked it out on Google Earth and it looks like he specialized in racing bikes and had customers from all parts of the country.  He wasn’t doing that bad really and had a nice home on the outskirts of town.”

     Sally listened with interest and asked, “He isn’t married?”

     “No record of a marriage,” said Elizabeth, “but we’ve got a guy from our Chicago office checking things out.  It’s only a couple hours drive.  I’ll get with you the minute I hear something, okay?  Now let’s go and look for some maternity clothes.  You’re starting to blossom, you know?”

     For some reason she didn’t understand, Sally didn’t tell Mark about the discovery of her mother’s past.  It was something so intimately private that she was hesitant to share anything about it.  Beyond that, they hadn’t spoken much of her mother after the confrontation.  It was as if they had decided to permit time to heal the situation and not intrude with any attempts of their own.  Sally’s father stopped by one afternoon and expressed his regrets for the incident and Sally couldn’t help but wonder how he endured her mother through all those years.

     In her alone hours, Sally recalled the photos of her mother as a young girl.  She was, as Aunt Alice mentioned, strikingly beautiful and it was no surprise that a man would have been interested in her.  She thought of the social rules and standards wherein a man of 25 is a criminal for loving a girl of 16 but if married in later life and he is nine years older, it is of no consequence.  She had heard that her grandmother married at 16 and somehow the idea of her mother having an affair with an older man was not at all offensive.

     In the midst of her thoughts, deep into the night, she called in secrecy, “Stephen?”

     He did not respond and she repeated her message again and again but the baby remained silent.  She concluded he was sleeping and cradled her stomach in her hands and turned to find her own slumber.

     She had kissed Mark farewell moments before and went to the window to watch him drive away when the telephone rang.

     “I’m sending a car.  Need to talk,” said Elizabeth and nothing more.

     She waited in the foyer for the arrival of the car and Mr. Bernstein offered a kindly good morning; something he had never done before.  When the sleek vehicle arrived, he remained at the door watching with a particular interest.

     “Hello, Thomas,” Sally offered, remembering the driver’s name from the trip to the airport.

     “Good morning, mam,” he replied and pulled from the curb to head toward the Warrington Building.  Once there he escorted her through the lobby to the elevator and said only, “top floor.”

     When the elevator hissed to a stop, Sally was greeted by a young woman with mulatto features.  “You must be Sally,” she said, “I’m Tina, Mrs. Warrington’s secretary.  She waiting for you inside.”

     Elizabeth’s office was spectacular with paneled walls boasting dozens of photos and awards.  Her desk was curved mahogany with a tall, leather chair behind.

     “Hello sweetie,” said Elizabeth, giving her a warm embrace.  “Sit down.  Good news, bad news.”

     “Good news,” said Sally.

     “We’ve located our Paul.  His neighbors remember your mother coming each summer for a couple of weeks.  Paul had introduced her as his girlfriend.”

     “Bad news,” Sally said cautiously.

     “Four days ago a customer found Paul in his shop.  He had collapsed.  They’re calling it a coronary but it doesn’t look good and he’s in intensive care.  I don’t think your Mom knows.”

       Sally slumped back in her chair and heaved a deep sigh.  “Wow, what do we do now?”

     “Want my advice?” asked Elizabeth.

     Sally nodded, “More than anything,” she said.

     “We tell her.  We tell her and see what she wants to do.  I think it should be up to her.”

     Sally considered the idea for a moment before asking, “How do we get her alone?  We have to get her away from my dad.”

     Elizabeth stood from the desk and walked to the window.  Looking over the city she spoke in low, deliberate tones. 

     “She’s still a mother.  Call her and tell her you have an emergency and need her to come immediately.  Don’t tell her what the emergency is, just that you need her.  That should be music to her ears.  In the meantime I’ll have the jet ready in case she wants to go to Urbana.”

     Sally quickly turned toward her friend with a face filled with awe.  “You’d do that?” she asked.

     “I’m doing it,” said Elizabeth.  “Tell her to come here, where Mark works.  We’ll just lay it on the line and play it by ear after that, okay?”

     Sally spoke on one telephone while Elizabeth contacted the airport on the other.  Her mother asked a long series of questions but Sally only forced a sound of urgency and soon she was hearing, “Don’t move, I’m on my way.”

     Her mother arrived in a taxi and rushed into the lobby where Tina had instructions to wait and escort her to the office.  Elizabeth had told her secretary not to give any information, only to take her to the upper floor and into the office.

     Sally and Elizabeth turned abruptly as Tina opened the door and the woman entered.  Suddenly her face froze and hardened into offense. 

     “Is this some kind of joke?” she asked.  “What’s the big emergency?”

     “Sit down, Mom, please,” said Sally, taking her arm and guiding her to a chair.  “Please don’t say anything, just listen.”

     “If it’s something so private, does that woman have to be here?” she asked bitterly.

     “Yes, Mom, Elizabeth needs to be here.  Please just listen.”

     Her mother cast an icy glare toward Elizabeth and said fiercely, “I’ve already heard enough.  I think this was a thoughtless, cruel thing to do, Sally.  I’m going home.”  She stood but found Sally standing in front of her, blocking her exit.

     “Sit down!” Sally shouted.  “We have to tell you about Paul!”

     Her mother’s face turned ashen and she settled into the chair as if stunned.  “What do you know about Paul?” she asked softly.

     “Everything, Barbara,” said Sally, holding her hand and making certain her voice was soothing.  “I know everything and it’s okay.  I understand.  But he’s sick, Mom.  He’s in intensive care and Elizabeth and I thought you might want to be with him.”

     The woman’s hands trembled and her eyes misted.  "What happened?” she asked.

     Elizabeth gave a warm smile and moved closer to the woman.  “They’re saying it was a heart attack,” she offered.  “A customer found him on the floor of his shop four days ago.”

     She examined her daughter’s eyes while hers was filled with questions.  “How long have you known?” she asked.

     Sally shook her head.  “It doesn’t matter, Mom.  The important thing is that I think he might need you with him.”

     “How can I go?” she asked with her voice breaking with emotion.  “Your father . . .”

     “I’ll tell him I have to go out of town for a few days and I’m inviting you to go with me.  He’ll think it’s a great idea.”

     Her mother buried her face in her hands and her body trembled.  “I only have credit cards and he’ll see that I bought airline tickets.”

     Elizabeth tapped Sally’s shoulder.  “Call your dad and tell him.  We don’t need to be wasting time.”

     As Sally predicted, her father was delighted with the news saying that she needed time with her mother to put their relationship back on track. 

     “It’s okay,” she announced as she replaced the receiver.

     “Okay,” said Elizabeth and pushed an intercom that brought Tina peeking through the door.  “Call the airport and tell them we’re on our way and have Thomas waiting at the door,” she ordered.

     Sally’s mother lifted her tearful eyes moaning, “I don’t have clothes . . .”

     “That’s silly stuff,” said Elizabeth,  

     Once settled into the car and moving through the maze of traffic, Sally’s mother turned to say, “I’m so embarrassed.  I’m sorry, Sally.”

     “For what?” asked her daughter.  “For loving someone?  Don’t ever apologize for that, Mom, because I won’t.”

     Her mother gave furtive glances toward Elizabeth and finally said, “I don’t deserve all this.  I never spoke kindly about you.”

     “Few people do,” mused Elizabeth, “don’t worry about it.  We have bigger things to do.”

     Before an hour had passed they were airborne and Sally watched her mother stare out the window toward the billowed clouds.

     “I love your father,” she said gently.  “I really do.  It’s just that Paul and I could never really let go.  I went home one year for Christmas.  George and I had been married a little more than a year and he was still in the Army.  I told him I was going home for the holidays and I took a cab from the bus station and before going to the house I checked the mailbox.  I had always checked the mailbox when I came home from school and it was like a habit.  My folks had one of those metal mailbox’s with the little red flag.  Inside was a letter to me from Paul.  Later I learned he had sent many, many letters and none had been given to me.  So I didn’t go to the house.  The taxi driver was taking my suitcase out of the trunk and I told him to put it back and to take me back to the bus station.  I went to Urbana and spent that Christmas with him.  It was one of the best Christmases of my life. 

     “You must think I’m terrible; an unfaithful, ungrateful wife and I don’t blame you if you’re angry.  It was just that we couldn’t let it just go away.  Two weeks a year was better than nothing and the rest of the year I tried to be a good wife and mother.  I really did.  Most people will say you can’t love two people at the same time but you can.  I know you can.  It’s just that there are different kinds of love and what I feel for your father is so different from Paul.  I love George because he’s dependable and thoughtful and so incredibly responsible.  He’s a prize for any woman. 

     “With Paul I’m sixteen again and we do things I would never think of doing at home.  Riding bicycles on forest trails and camping out.  Dancing in the rain and things people think of as silly.  I’m a girl again and my heart comes alive.

     “I don’t know if you can understand what it’s like to watch the years slip away and knowing what you could have had.  To live everyday in the routine of cooking meals, washing clothes, ironing and PTA and all the while your heart is somewhere else.  It’s hard.  It’s so very hard.”

     Sally pulled her mother into her arms and stroked her hair as she heard the sobs, anguished and painful.

When they touched down at the University of Illinois Willard Airport, Elizabeth’s employee from the Chicago office was waiting.  He drove them to the Carle Foundation Hospital and led them to the nurse’s station saying, “These are the people I told you about.”

     The attractive nurse was kind and understanding.  “It’s not visiting hours but you’re all special, coming all this way.”  They were led to the last room on the right at the end of the hall.  “He’s weak,” said the nurse.  “I’m not going to put a time limit on the visit but I’ll check to make sure he’s holding up okay.”

     “Thank you,” Sally’s mother muttered and entered first with her companions behind.

     The man must be tall, thought Sally, seeing that his feet reached the limits of the mattress.  Tubes ran from his inner arms and nose and the monitor measured his pulse with sharp indications.  She watched her mother move beside the bed and take his hand.  Slowly his eyes opened and his face softened into a serene pleasure. 

     “It’s not June,” he whispered.

     “No darling,” said her mother, “it’s not June.  This is Sally, Paul.”

     “Sally,” he said weakly and listened as she said hello.

     Elizabeth tugged Sally’s sleeve and they silently left the room to move to the waiting area.  They said nothing but exchanged a smile of satisfaction.

     “Can I tell you something, Elizabeth Warrington?” asked Sally.

     “Anything,” was the reply.

     “I love you,” Sally said with a crackling voice and rivulets of tears and soon they were embracing and sharing the moment always to be remembered.

     “Okay,” said Elizabeth with a clap of her hands, “do you know your mother’s sizes?  I think we’re going to be here a while.”

     Sally delivered her cell phone to her mother and told her to call the programmed number when the visit had ended.  Once done, Elizabeth told the Chicago employee to return home and they took taxis to two of Urbana’s three malls.  Within hours they had enough clothes for the three of them to last five days.

     “You’re crazy!” exclaimed Sally.  “You’re the official, Guinness queen of the shopaholics!”

     “Listen baby,” said Elizabeth.  “Stuff and things.  That’s all I have in this world.  Stuff and things.  None of it means anything.  What you have in that little apartment of yours and what your mother has in this moment, that’s the real thing.  Just remember, keep the stuff and things in their place and never have anything you can’t afford to lose.”

     They had paused at small café in the mall for a late lunch and Sally had the sudden urge to tell Elizabeth about her communications with Stephen.  Her mouth was poised to tell when Stephen called forcibly.

     “No Mama, don’t.”

     “You little scamp!” scolded Sally.  “I’ve been calling you for days!  Why didn’t you answer me?”

     “Sometimes I can’t, Mama,” he replied.  “Some days it takes a lot of energy to do what I have to do.  I want to be like you imagine.”

     “Oh, baby,” she offered with a sigh.  “I was worried.”

     “Don’t tell, Mama.  Don’t tell anyone.  This is only for you and me.”

     “I won’t, Stephen.  Not if you don’t want me to.  But your godmother is a very special person.”

     “Don’t tell,” he repeated and then there was silence again.

     From the mall they booked two rooms in a hotel and waited for the call from Sally’s mother.  The sun had lowered beyond the horizon when finally the phone rang.

     “They’re going to let me stay here with him,” her mother said.  “There’s a recliner and I’ll be comfortable.”

     Before Sally could answer, Elizabeth asked, “Does she want us to send some food?”

     Obviously hearing the comment, she said, “They brought a tray for me.  I’m fine, really.”

     “How is he?” asked Sally.

     “He’s wonderful,” said her mother, “he just happens to be dying and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

     Sally felt a lump growing in her throat and answered, “You stay with him, Mama.  He needs you.”

     They stayed in Urbana three more days before Paul Quantrill passed away in the early morning hours with his hand in Barbara’s.  She sat with him another two hours until a nurse entered and found the monitor straight and silent.  A sheet was pulled over his face and Barbara punched the cell phone and asked for a ride.

     Sensing the urgency to return home and since Paul had no relatives, the funeral was scheduled promptly and Elizabeth made all the arrangements.  Sally thought that her mother appeared more like a widow than a woman losing the man she loved and she stayed by her side throughout the service.  Large floral displays were placed around the grave each one bearing the name of one of the women.  The three mourners stood silently as the casket was lowered into the earth and Barbara spied the ornate tombstone with Paul’s name, date of birth and death and the singular phrase, “until June.”

     “It’s lovely,” sobbed Barbara and held out her hand to Elizabeth.  “It’s so beautiful!”

     “We have to go home,” said Elizabeth and Barbara nodded obediently.

     Aboard the plane again, the sense of loss lingered and each struggled to think of something appropriate to say.  Suddenly, Barbara turned her attention to Elizabeth and smiled.

     “You have been a better friend to my daughter than I have been a mother,” she confessed.  “No one has ever done anything so kind for me in my life.  I just don’t understand why.  Why would you do all this?”

     Elizabeth returned the smile and with her typical brevity, replied, “Because it was right.”

     “Can you forgive me?” asked Barbara, “for all the ugly things I’ve said?”

     “Ask your daughter,” said Elizabeth.  “There was never anything for me to forgive.”

     Before she could speak, Sally took her mother’s hand and said, “Some things we just have to let go, Barbara.  We have to turn the page and start over again.  Nothing to forgive, just promises to keep.”

     Barbara nodded slowly.  “Will you do me a favor?” she asked.

     “Sure,” said Sally.

     “Will you call me Mom or Mother?  I don’t want to be Barbara anymore.”

     Somehow the revelation of her mother’s past brought the circle to a close.  The relationship between Sally and her mother was as it should have always been and Elizabeth was a more integral part of her life.  If Barbara visited while Elizabeth was in the apartment, it was a meeting of joy with embraces and warm friendship.

     It was on one day while they walked in the park that Sally revealed the thought that had been haunting her since their visit to Illinois. 

     “My birthday is in March,” she told Elizabeth.

     “I know, March 19.”

     “Yeah.”

     “So?”

     “It just makes me wonder,” confessed Sally.  “There’s nine months between June and March.”

     “So you think that maybe . . .”

     “The way my mother said, Paul this is Sally.  It was like he knew something about me.”

     Elizabeth scoffed the idea.  “Surely she would have mentioned you.”

     “Maybe,” said Sally thoughtfully.

     “Know what?” asked Elizabeth impulsively, “either way you had a great father and either one would have been lucky to have a daughter like you.”  

     As often as not, Sally’s parents visited together which had not commonly happened before.  She could sense a new closeness between the two as Barbara took her father’s arm and sat closely to him on the sofa.  Watching the transformation brought her great joy and the security of knowing a new communion.

     Twice a month Elizabeth would ask Sally to accompany her to the prison to visit Andie.  On the first two attempts Andie refused the visit and it was apparent that Elizabeth suffered from the rejection.  On the third attempt, however, Andie appeared and sat on the other side of the table.

     “Hi,” she said as a greeting.

     “Hello Andie,” Elizabeth replied.

     “What’s your name?” she asked of Sally and nodded solemnly with the answer.  “How come you’re always with my Mom?” she asked.

     “Because we’re friends,” said Sally.  “Because coming here isn’t easy for your mother and she needs someone with her.”

     “You think it’s easy for me?” snarled Andie.  “But this is where you want me, right?” she asked, shifting her eyes to Elizabeth.

     “No, I don’t want to see you here, Andie,” Elizabeth responded.

     The young woman released a snort of disgust.  “Sure, that’s why you did so much to help me.”

     Elizabeth leaned slightly forward, a gesture of emphasis.  “No one could help you, Andie.   You heard the judge.”

     “That’s bull!” the young woman charged.  “You can get things done when you want to!”

     As her voice raised a burly guard came forward and told her to calm it down.  With the warning, Andie stood and said, “Visit over.”

     Watching her stalk toward the heavy metal door, Elizabeth moaned, “She hates me.”

     Sally couldn’t help but wonder why Elizabeth continued to visit the prison when it was either rejected by Andrea or turned into a spectacle of accusations.  She wondered if she would be so enduring under the circumstances and admired Elizabeth’s perseverance.

     They returned in the evening and Mark was at the table eating a sandwich when Sally entered.

     “I’m sorry, Hon,” she said with a firm embrace.  “I thought we’d be back earlier.”

     He kissed her lightly and pulled her onto his lap.  “You’re here, that’s what’s important.  I thought about ordering a pizza but there was ham and cheese in the frig.  How’s my boy?”

     Sally patted her growing stomach with a smile.  “I think he’s going to be like his daddy.”

     “Why?”

     “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”

     That night she turned to her side.  It was less comfortable now sleeping on her back.  The bulk of Stephen was becoming apparent and she wondered if there would be much discomfort in the latter months.  All of it would be worth it, she comforted herself, and anyway, tomorrow she would have another appointment with the doctor.

     She waited nearly an hour for her name to be called but it didn’t bother her.  She was now accustomed to simply reading magazines and pretending that she was as aloof from everyone else as where the others. 

     “I’ve been waiting to see you,” said the doctor with his hand on her shoulder.  “I wanted to thank you.”

     “What for?” asked Sally.

     “Not many women would be so thoughtful and courageous.  Evelyn admitted she had a drinking problem and we’re dealing with it.  Because of you I took a blood sample and you were right, the baby could have been in trouble.  She’s in counseling and from what I hear, she’s doing fine.”

     “Good,” sighed Sally.

     “Now,” he began, “we’re going to do a sonogram and see what we have in there.  Do you want to know if it’s a boy or girl or do you want to be surprised?”

     “He’s a boy,” she responded.

     “Well, we need to make sure, don’t we?” he asked.

     “Go ahead,” said Sally, “but he’s a boy and his name is Stephen.”

     He chuckled lightly.  “How can you be so positive?”

     “Because I am,” she answered with a confident smile.

     Minutes later they were putting gel on her stomach and moving the sensor over her skin. 

     “Well, look at that,” said the doctor.  “He’s a boy alright and he looks perfectly well.”

     Sally was delighted with the results and time and again examined the print out of the sonogram.  For the first time she could see Stephen and how his tiny frame was developing.

     “They should be thanking you,” she told Stephen.  “It was you that knew the baby girl was having problem because her Mama was drinking.”

     “Many babies have problems, Mama,” he said.

     “Like what, Stephen?”

     “Lots of Mamas and Daddys really didn’t want to have a baby but one came and they feel a kind of resentment.  They pretend to be happy but would prefer not to have a baby right now.  The babies feel all that and it can be a big problem not to be wanted.”

     Sally considered all he said and remembered knowing couples with those sentiments.  The baby became an obligation rather than a welcomed addition.  Never had she realized that the apprehension and regret would be transmitted to the fetus and the idea saddened her.

     “I promise you, young man, you are entirely wanted by your Mama and Daddy.”

     “Yes, I know,” he answered.  “But some babies don’t want to be here either.  It isn’t only the Mamas and Daddys.  Some babies prefer not to be in their Mamas.”

     “Why, Stephen?” she asked.  “Why would a baby feel that way?”

     “They hear.  They hear ugly words and feel anger and fear.  They can’t escape and there’s violence outside of their chamber.  There are bad things being said and done and they’re helpless.  They’re afraid to come into a world like that and being born into fear is one of the worst things that can happen.”

     Sally contemplated all that was said and imagined families of turmoil and disruptions.  Yes, she concluded, babies should not be subjected to lives like that.

     “Can you feel love, Stephen?” asked Sally.  “If babies can feel fear and anger, can you feel love?”

     “You don’t understand,” said Stephen.  “Love is what we are supposed to feel.  We are supposed to be created from it and nurtured by it.  It is what’s natural to our existence in here.  It is not something special, it is what is normal.  I am surrounded by warmth and I‘m secure.  That means I come from love and that I will be safe in a world that is not always a good place.”

     “Do you love me, Stephen?” she asked almost timidly.

     “We love all things, Mama.  It’s the only emotion we know.  Without love we couldn’t trust.  In the beginning, trust is everything we know.  We trust that we will be fed and given drink.  We trust we will be kept clean and protected.  We give ourselves completely into the hands of women who are supposed to guard us and keep us well and safe.  Everything we know is love and trust until we learn that they are not enough.”

     The was a somber thought and Sally dwelled upon it at length.  Without messaging her vow, she was determined that Stephen would never know doubt about any part of his existence.

     “I will always, always love you, Stephen,” she told him.  “And I’ll teach you to be good and reliable like your Daddy.  You will be a good boy, won’t you?”

     In that instant she felt the first movement.  A swift, resounding kick against the stomach wall and she gasped with the sensation, grasping her stomach and scowling, “Rascal!”  With that came the second kick of Stephen’s existence.

     In the days and weeks that followed, Stephen was in constant movement and Sally in a marvelous discomfort.  She would laugh aloud with his gyrations and scold him often.  When Elizabeth visited, she delighted in placing her hand on Sally’s bloated midriff and feeling the motion within.

     Elizabeth no longer invited Sally to visit the prison and one could only speculate why.  Perhaps she thought it too depressing for a pregnant woman or too tiring since they sat on metal stools during visits.  Sally said nothing but wanted to share the moments with Elizabeth if nothing more than to bring comfort.  At last, when she thought the moment right, she inquired, “Elizabeth, how’s Andie?”

     The dark sadness clouded Elizabeth.  “I don’t know,” she confessed.  “She refuses my visits.  I haven’t gone there for the past two weeks.  What’s the use?”

     “That stinks,” opined Sally.  “What’s wrong with that kid?”

     Elizabeth forced a smile.  “I don’t know much of anything these days,” she began, “I just pray that with time she’ll start maturing and doing something to help herself.”

     So it was that on the following Tuesday, Sally took a taxi to the prison and registered as a visitor.  She was approved from her prior visits with Elizabeth so there was no problem in obtaining a pass. 

     She entered the visiting room where guards stood with arms folded in a menacing manner and waited to see if Andrea would agree to see her.  At last, the door opened and a row of inmates exited and went to tables where friends and relatives waited.  Toward the end of the row came Andrea.

     “It’s you,” she said with a slur of repugnance.  “I didn’t recognize the name.  I was curious.”

     “Yeah, it’s me,” said Sally.

     “So, what do you want?”

     Sally frowned and stared directly into Andrea’s eyes.  “What I want is for you to sit there and listen.”

     “To what?” asked Andie.

     “To me!” snapped Sally, “now are you going to shut up and listen or do we just call it a day?”

     Andrea sighed and folded her arms.  “Get on with it,” she said.

     “I studied law, Andie.  I’m not one of those jailhouse lawyers pretending to know their stuff.  I know what I’m talking about so all I want to know is if you want to get out of here or not.”

     “Are you crazy?” asked Andie.  “Of course, I want out of this hellhole.”

     “Then this is how it works,” said Sally.  “How long were you on probation?”

     “A year and a half, I guess.”

     “Okay, then the fifteen years just became thirteen and a half years.  How long were you in jail waiting for trial?”

     “Thirteen weeks,” said Andie.

     “Three months less,” continued Sally.  “Are you working in here?”

     Andrea chuckled disdainfully.  “Are you kidding?  I should go to the laundry or something just to pass the time?”

     “No, to lessen the time.  Twenty percent, one day for every five days worked.  You work for five years and you serve four, get it?  You take advantage of every opportunity and you have a parole hearing in four years.”

     Andrea leaned forward menacingly.  “That’s fine for you to say.  Only four years!  How do you think that sounds to someone in here?”

     “Like hell,” said Sally.  “But it’s your time to make something good out of it.  Get yourself in the ASAT Program to show you want to kick the habit.  Get into the Bard Education Program and get a degree. And you have to get it in gear to finish it before you’re paroled.  Instead of thinking of how long it’s going to be, think that you don’t have much time to complete your studies and come out of here ready to work.”

     Andrea curled her lip into disgust.  “Who in the hell are you to come here and tell me what to do?  Huh?”

     “Who am I?” asked Sally defiantly, “I’m the last chance you’ve got.  You don’t want to see your mother, fine.  But you had better start making something of yourself or when that parole date does come around, I’m going to be there to tell them how irresponsible, arrogant and unrepentive you are!  I’ll keep you in here all fifteen years, young lady!  Now do you want to know who I am?”

     Andrea seemed set aback by the verbal assault.  “Why?” she asked.  “You don’t know me.  Why would you do something like that?”

     “Because you’re just a spoiled, worthless, inconsiderate brat who doesn’t care if her mother cries every time you’d rather play cards in your cell than come to a visit with her.  Right now you’re exactly where you belong.  No one can trust you on the streets.  All you know to do is shack up and shoot up and give people who love you a lot of grief.  So I’m going to check to see what programs you enter and what kind of person will come out of here because your mother deserves a lot better than you.”

     “You don’t know my mother,” Andrea sulked.  “What?  You go for a cup of tea now and then and you think you know her?”

     Sally’s face contorted into rage and her fists whitened her knuckles.  “How do you know her?” she said with a vicious emphasis.  “Someone to bail you out and pay your way through rehab programs?  Someone you can manipulate and extort because you know she loves you?  Don’t tell me I don’t know her!  And I’ll tell you one more thing.  She’s going to come next week and you’d better be here greeting her and talking about what you plan to do while you’re here.  If not, Andie, so help me God, I will be at every parole hearing.  I’ll send petitions and complaints by the dozens.  I’ll keep you here until you are thirty-two years old before you walk into sunlight and then you’ll have no place to go.  Do you understand me?”

     At last Andrea only stared with widened eyes and nodded her surrender.

     “And you’re not to tell your mother I was here, is that clear?”

     “Okay,” said Andrea.  She fumbled a bit with her fingers and looked away nervously before adding, “Is that all?”

     “No,” said Sally, “You’re going to put me on your mailing list and I will send course materials for you and check your grades.  I’ll monitor everything you do and if you want to know why, it’s because you can be something better than a 17-year-old ex-con.  Now you’ve got everything going for you except yourself.  Study and learn something and you’ll have a job waiting, you know that.  All the other women here have to go out there and hope they can find something to do because a lot of people won’t want them.  And believe it or not, I am not your enemy.  I’m the person who’s going to see you through this so you can come out of here still a young woman with a future.” 

     Sally motioned to a nearby guard and when he came to the table she inquired about the process of being on a prisoner’s mailing list.  More than anything she wanted Andrea to know she was serious and started to see signs of her being more submissive.

     “Do we have an agreement?” asked Sally firmly.

     Andrea nodded slowly, saying, “Yeah.”

     “Don’t con me, Andie,” warned Sally.  “I keep my word.  Good or bad, I keep my word.”

     The girl swallowed hard, recognizing that Sally was serious and determined. 

     “I’ll put you on my mailing list right away,” she said.  “I won’t tell Mom about any of this, I promise.”

     Sally smiled warmly.  “I’m listed as a friend on your visitor list.  That’s what I am, Andie.”

     The girl merely nodded and turned abruptly toward the guard as the warning sounded that the visiting time had ended.

     For the first time, Sally and her mother joined Elizabeth for lunch and arrived early at the prescribed restaurant.  Soon after Elizabeth entered, bubbly and filled with exuberance.   

“You were right,” she told Sally after a greeting hug for her and Barbara.  Turning to Barbara, she continued, “Sally told me to give it one last shot.  To go to the    place where they’ve got Andie and try to visit.” 

She reached forth to grasp Sally’s hand.  “You wouldn’t believe it!  She’s in one of those drug programs and I don’t know what they’re doing but she’s talking about taking some courses and getting her degree and all sorts of great things!  She was like a different kid!”

     “That’s great,” said Sally and her mother eagerly agreed.

     Elizabeth beamed with contentment.  “This is the first time since she was thirteen that I’ve seen some positive responses from her.  I just can’t believe it.”

     “Miracles happen,” chimed Sally as she felt Stephen kick her especially hard and she wondered if it was for speaking her small white lie.

     “How are we doing?” asked Elizabeth.  “Are you terribly uncomfortable?”

     “Let’s see,” mused Sally, “my back’s killing me, I have leg cramps at night in bed.  My feet complain if I walk more than a block and generally I’m a physical wreck.”

     “Three months more,” said Barbara.  “It’ll pass quickly, believe me.”

     “I hope so,” said Sally and suddenly felt a large movement in the expanse of her abdomen. 

     “I don’t,” called Stephen.

     “You don’t what?” asked Sally, trying desperately not to let her facial expressions expose the communication.

     “When I come out, Mama, it will be over.”

     “What will be over, Stephen?”

     “All this.  You and me speaking to each other and sharing our feelings.”

     Sally found herself smiling and sipped of her tea to disguise her thoughts.

     “Oh baby,” she messaged, “we’ll always share everything.”

     “You’ll see,” he told her and then grew silent in spite of her multiple messages.

 

FEAR

 

     It had become Mark’s habit to kiss Sally goodbye each day and then lean forward to kiss her stomach.  Sally knew that Stephen was aware of the action and thought it was a marvelous confirmation of his daddy’s love.  She would watch him walk to the landing to descend the stairs and begin her daily routine in the apartment.

     It was the same each day.  She would make the bed and sweep and finally wash breakfast dishes.  Once the home was as she wished, she would shower and prepare herself for the day. 

     In the bathroom she stepped on the scale and pursed her lips with resignation at the sight of her mounting weight. 

     “You’re killing my girlish figure,” she told Stephen teasingly, this time speaking aloud.

     Sitting on the commode, she removed her clothes and turned on the hot water in the shower.  It always required a minute or so for the water to turn warm and then increase its heat so she waited, occasionally extending her hand to test the temperature.

     Once it was tepid, she stepped into the shower and turned the bar of soap within a wash cloth.  The sense of the warm water splattering against her skin was refreshing and she stood for a long moment to enjoy each sensation.  Satisfied, she started to wash and watched the foam spread over her breasts and stomach.

     Later, she would not recall how it happened.  As she had done every day, she turned to allow the water to spray across her back but this time her feet slid over the moist tile and she found herself flailing to regain her balance and grasping for something to hold.  Her fingers clutched the wire frame that held the bottles of shampoo but it pulled away from its mounting and collided to the floor with her.

     She felt the impact of her back against the tile and then the back of her head crashing with a sickening sound.  She could hear herself moan and without realizing it, she repeated over and over, “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!”

     Crawling out of the shower, she pulled her robe from the hook and tried to fit her arms into the sleeves.  Reaching for the door knob she was able to pull herself to her feet but her hands cradled her stomach as she continued to recite her pleas.

     “Stephen!” she was calling aloud.  “Oh God, Stephen!  Answer me, baby”  Stephen!”

     As she moved from the bathroom, she sought counters and tables to clutch for support, one hand always supporting the expanse of her stomach.   She moved through the kitchen to the living area and sat gently in a chair next to the telephone.  Before she could dial, she felt the pain moving through her upper legs and into her abdomen.  A throbbing ache centered between her shoulder blades and she moaned unwillingly, never before knowing a greater fear.

     “Mom?” she said after three rings, “I fell!”

     “Sit still,” her mother ordered, “I’ll call Elizabeth.  She’s closer.”

     Moments later Sally heard a firm knocking at the door but felt she couldn’t move that far to answer it. 

     “Mam?” a man’s voice was saying, “We’re the ambulance service, can you hear me?”

     “Yes,” called Sally, “but I don’t think I can make it to the door.”

     “Don’t worry,” he told her, “someone went for the super.”

     Moments later she was being strapped onto a stretcher and balanced down the two flights of stairs.  She continued to clutch her stomach and sob violently.

     “I’m sorry,” she moaned.  “I’m so sorry, Stephen!”

     The paramedics tried to calm her and noted her vitals on their route to the hospital.  Once there she was wheeled into an emergency room where a young doctor asked what had happened and started to move a cold stethoscope over her abdomen. 

     “Do you have your own OB?” the man asked.

     Sally gave him the name of her doctor and kept pushing the flesh over her stomach, hoping to get a responsive movement from Stephen.

     “Is my baby alright?” she asked.

     “We’ll have to do a more complete examination,” he told her and placed her feet in stirrups, pulling a sheet over her knees.  “No bleeding,” he said, “that’s good.  How far along are you, six months or so?”

     “Yeah,” she said.  “Six months.”

     He patted her arm and smiled.  “I need for you to relax and be patient for a while.  We’ll be back and give you a good going over shortly.”

     In his absence Sally heard Elizabeth’s voice and soon a nurse was pulling back the curtains of the examination room.  Elizabeth and her mother entered together followed by Dr. Spielman.

     Immediately the doctor pressed his stethoscope over her stomach and reviewed the chart left behind from her first exam. 

     Finally, he pulled a chair next to her and spoke in soothing tones.  “First of all, Sally, the baby is very safe within the womb.  Your skin and muscles, along with the uterus and amniotic sac full of fluid all serve to act as a big “cushion” protecting the unborn baby from any possible harm that could occur from a fall.  It’s a lot like the air bag in your car.  It would take a really severe blow to the belly to cause the amniotic sac to break and that hasn’t happened with you.

     “You’re not the first patient I’ve had that fell and they all delivered perfectly healthy babies.  But I want you to have bed rest for a week, alright?  You can get up to go to the bathroom and nothing else.  And no showers, okay?  Sponge baths are going to have to do for the time being.  Okay?”

     Sally felt the tears coursing her cheeks as she nodded and muttered, “Okay.  But can you hear his heartbeat?  Is he okay?”

     “By all indications he’s fine,” said Dr. Spielman.  “We’ll keep an eye on him just so you feel secure.”

     As he was giving his counsel, Mark rushed into the area and put his face next to hers, “Are you okay, baby?” he asked anxiously.

     “I’m okay,” she responded.  “I’m just worried about Stephen.”

     He glanced toward the doctor.  “Did they examine her really well?  I mean, no fractures or anything like that?”

     “How did you know?” asked Sally.

     “Mrs. Warrington, she called for the men and I came straight here.”

     “What men?” asked Sally.

     “Never mind,” said Elizabeth before turning to Mark.  “Outside of work I’m Elizabeth, okay?”

     Mark only nodded nervously and kept Sally’s hands in his.

     She was taken from the hospital to Elizabeth’s car in a wheelchair.  As she sat in the rear seat with Mark, she felt the pains again moving through her body and became more frightened than before.

At the apartment she was surprised to see a group of four men, robust and muscular waiting for their arrival.  They helped her from the car and had her sit in a wooden chair that they hefted between them and slowly climbed the stairs.  Mark rushed to unlock the apartment door and they took her to the bedroom where she was placed prone and totally alarmed.

“I’ll have a nurse here in a few minutes,” said Elizabeth, “someone to stay with you when Mark’s not here.”

“Elizabeth,” moaned Sally, “that’s not necessary.  I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will,” the woman retorted, “because we’re going to have a nurse here with you to make sure.”

“I’ll be here, too,” said Barbara. 

Sally had discovered before that her body ached more during the night hours and the idea of a week in bed did little to encourage her.  Apart from the usual aches and pains associated to being pregnant, she now had the bruises and strains of the fall.  With each movement she gritted her teeth and moaned softly.

Her mother brought a glass of water to have beside her bed and put the television control within reach.  She seemed to be searching for more things to do until an hour later when the nurse arrived.

She was a young woman saying she was from the Philippines and soon proved that she was impressionably efficient.  She checked Sally’s blood pressure regularly and placed a small pillow in the small of her back to ease the pressure against her spine.  Sally felt more comfortable and was appreciative beyond measure.

When Mark arrived the nurse departed with the notice that she would report again at eight in the morning as Elizabeth Warrington had ordered.  He was immediately at Sally’s side asking a multitude of questions about her condition and if there was anything she wanted.

“She’s been asking for lemon pie,” he told Barbara.  “Not just any lemon pie but a pecan lemon pie that a bakery has a few blocks from here.”

“Cravings,” said Sally with a pained smile.  “I thought it was just old wives tales but I’ve really wanted some crazy things to eat in the past weeks.”

“Pie?” asked Mark, “I can go get one right now.  How about it?”

“No, Honey,” she responded with a faint giggle, “I’m okay, really.”

Barbara stood at the foot of the bed watching Sally and Mark with a particular interest.  “Would you two mind if I slept on the sofa?” she asked.  “I don’t want to leave her.  Do you mind?”

Sally felt her emotions swelling as her mother spoke.  She couldn’t remember a more sincere expression of concern from her.

“I’d like that, Mom,” she said.  “I’d feel better with you here.”

Barbara was openly pleased with the comment and was gathering her purse from the dresser when a knock came to the door again.

Mark announced that he would answer and soon returned with Sally’s father at his side.

“How are you, sweetheart?” he asked, running his fingers over her cheek.

     “Clumsy,” said Sally.

     “Lopsided, but not clumsy,” he mused.  “I couldn’t sit at home and do nothing.  So I decided to come here and do nothing.”

     “I’m staying the night,” Barbara told him, “just in case.”

     George looked around.  “Where will you sleep?”

     “The sofa,” she said, nodding toward the living area. 

     “Okay,” he agreed, “I’ll stay the night, too.  If I go home I have to make my own breakfast.”

     “There’s no room,” Barbara retorted.  “You need to be in your bed.”

     “Garbage,” he said, “there’s a big, comfortable chair in there.  I’ve slept in foxholes, I guess a chair will be just fine.”

     Sally pointed to the dresser.  “Bottom drawer, there’s sheets and blankets.  We don’t have extra pillows.”

     “The sofa has cushions,” said Barbara, “we’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

     There was a unity in the response to her accident and Sally recalled that a month ago her parents would never have spent the night in their apartment.  There was the willingness to help and dedication she had not seen before and she was thankful.

     Mark stayed awake longer than usual, his hand placed over her stomach with soft kisses and words of caring.  At last he sighed once and closed his eyes to the night.

     When all was still and half the world was in slumber, Sally moved her hands over her abdomen and whispered her message.

     “Stephen baby, are you okay?”

     There was no reply or signal of movement and she bit her lip in the darkness, fretful and guilt ridden.

     “Stephen, I’m sorry.  It was an accident, baby.  Mama would never, never hurt you.  Please let me know you’re okay.  Please.”

     Still there was no response and Sally felt her breath give way to an agonizing sob.

     The days passed depressively slow and Sally’s fear grew with each hour of Stephen’s silence and lack of motion.  Dr. Spielman came and examined her again and in spite of his positive report, she was troubled that something terribly wrong had gone undetected.  Her pregnancy with Stephen was different from all the doctor’s experiences with other women, she thought.  It wasn’t only the external signs of pulse and blood pressure but the messages and thoughts that had always passed between them.  To Sally, they served as measurements as surely as any vital sign and now there was nothing, only the dull silence each day and night.

     “Stephen?” she called from the language of her soul, “I know you hear me.  Are you angry with Mama?  Please don’t be.  I need to know that you’re alright and only you can tell me.  Please, baby.

     “If you won’t tell me, there are some things I want you to know.  Secret things.  You know what it’s like to be a baby inside your Mama but I see everything in reverse and I want you to know it’s wonderful.  I know Mama complains about aches and pains but I never have a complaint about you being in there.  You are the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me and I want you to know it.

     “Mamas are different from women, Stephen.  When we are women we have different dreams.  Your daddy was one of my dreams.  Being married and having my private life was one of my dreams.  Oh sure, there were some dreams that never happened like me being a big time lawyer or going to Paris like your godmother does.  Instead I became a wife and now I will be a mother and I want you that just knowing you are in there and I am much more than me, it is the most beautiful dream any woman can have.

     “We have three more months, baby.  In there you’re all warm and snuggly but out here, I’m a walking balloon and I’m going to get bigger.  I’ll try to be very careful and not so clumsy, I promise.  But we’re in this together, you and me.  We have to help each other because there’s no one else sharing in all this, Stephen.  As much as your grandma and godmother Elizabeth want to help, it’s just you and me.

     “So I need to hear from you, baby.  I can’t sleep very well or concentrate on things because I’m always thinking about you and if everything’s okay.  Please let Mama know, Stephen, please.”

     And still she felt nothing beneath the slight pressure of her palms on her stomach.  She had no signal of his slumber, movement or thoughts and she felt desperately alone.

     When her week of repose had ended, she took timid, shuffling steps around the house and Elizabeth insisted that the nurse continue visiting even though Sally secretly preferred her privacy.  A few days later, however, she convinced Elizabeth that she was fit and prepared to be more cautious and the Filipino nurse made her gracious farewells and offered her best wishes for the baby.

     Each morning she counterfeited smiles and caring gestures for Mark and kissed him off to work.  She delighted that he was so continually grateful for his job and often he brought papers home to complete for the next day’s tasks.  He liked his dedication and sensed that he felt complete again, a man responsible for his growing family.  More than anything, she enjoyed seeing that he was happy and she wished that she would receive a message allowing her to share his contentment.  Instead, she kept her fears to herself and pretended to be the image everyone wanted to see.

     It was on that Thursday that Sally had another appointment with Dr. Spielman and Elizabeth insisted on sending a car for her that would wait until the consultation had ended and return her home. Sally always objected to such extravagant services but secretly felt special and important as the Thomas opened her door and escorted her to the elevator.

     In the waiting area Sally spied a chart on the wall with images of fetus development.  Searching downward to seven months, she discovered that Stephen should be sixteen inches long and weigh about three pounds.  His head should be more or less 3.5 inches in diameter.  His tiny feet should be 2.5 inches long and his skin is becoming smooth.  His testicles were forming and had moved into place and he is maintaining his own body temperature.

     She smiled as she related the information to the child within her and, as always, her hands caressed her abdomen with a loving touch.

     As she had noticed before, the women waiting around her never communicated but each remained in their own circle of silence and separation.  Sally kept her hands on her stomach and issued a silent prayer that Stephen was safe and well when suddenly a woman elegantly dressed moved to the seat beside her and offered a warm smile.

     “Can I tell you something?” the woman asked in a near whisper.  “You won’t think I’m crazy?”

     Sally frowned with the question, openly confused.  “No,” she responded, “I won’t think anything like that.”

     “Your baby is just fine,” said the woman.  “Don’t worry so much, he’s fine.”

     Her frown deepened and Sally gasped, “How did you . . .”

     “I just know,” the woman interrupted and stood suddenly as she heard her name called.  Before walking away, she put her hand on Sally’s shoulder and winked knowingly.

     “Wow, Stephen,” Sally messaged.  “Did you hear that?  Is that how it is, baby?  Are all these women around me communicating with their babies like we do?  Or like we did?”

     Sally’s eyes moved over the group and thought that maybe they were so isolated one from the other because they were in their silent conversations with their babies, each one thinking they were unique and keeping an ancient mystery silent.

     “That woman’s baby told her you were okay,” continued Sally.  “She told me, ‘I just know.’  It’s like all the things you’ve told me about your grandma, your daddy and everything else.  All these Mamas are doing the same thing and I never knew it.

     “But hey,” Sally thought, pushing her hands more tightly against her stomach, “if she’s right and you’re okay, then what’s with all the silence?  If you’re just being a brat you’re going to pay for it when you get out here, you hear me?

     “I just worry, Stephen, and if you’re okay, it’s not fair to let Mama be afraid every day and night.  Think about it, baby.  I try to eat things you like and that are best for you and I don’t drink a beer with Daddy like I used to.  I try to exercise and learn about all the things I’ll need to do for you.  I do all that for you, Stephen, so do this for Mama.  Let me know you’re alright.”

     She settled back into the soft chair and thought about the strange woman and her message.  She was oddly comforted by it and somehow felt secure in the awareness that Stephen was not in danger.  She hoped she would see the woman emerge from the examination rooms but heard her name called and knew that wouldn’t happen.

     When she arrived home, her mother’s car was parked in front of the brownstone building and Sally labored up the stairs, pausing from time to time to catch her breath.

     “Are you sure you’re only three pounds?” she asked Stephen.  “It feels more like thirty,” she messaged breathlessly.

     Turning the key in the lock, she found her mother in the living area watching the television.

     “Hi!” she called as a greeting and Sally accepted her embrace and light kiss joyfully.  “The Super let me in.  He told me you left orders that we can come and go.  That’s really sweet dear, thank you.  What did the doctor say?”

     “Clean bill of health,” Sally announced with a broad smile.  “We’re on schedule and getting ready for the big launch.”

     “I made some chili and I brought those little round crackers you always liked so much.”

     “Oh Mom,” said Sally sadly, “I can’t.  I tried it not long ago and Stephen really didn’t like it.  He was tossing and turning and I promised I wouldn’t eat chili again until he got here.”

     Barbara chuckled aloud.  “I love the way you talk about the baby,” he said teasingly, “like he was telling you the foods he liked.  It’s cute.”

     “I just know,” Sally offered as an excuse, “it’s just something I know.”

     “Sure,” her mother agreed with a lifted eyebrow of total doubt.  “So we have chili for Mark.”

     Sally made coffee and her mother insisted on carrying the steaming cups to the living area table where they sat and spoke of a wide collection of topics.  At last, Sally grew somber and mustered the courage to speak of a gnawing question.

     “I really like the way we are, Mom,” she said solemnly.  “It’s like I always wanted it to be and I don’t want to spoil it.  But I have something I want to ask and if you don’t want to answer I’ll understand and it won’t change anything between us, I promise.”

     “Oh dear,” said Barbara, “it sounds ominous.”

     Sally grasped the cup within her hands and gazed at her mother for a long moment before asking, “Mom, was Paul my father?”

     The woman’s reaction was dramatic as she closed her eyes and lowered her head.  “Sally . . .”

     “It’s mathematics, Mom,” Sally offered kindly, “June to March, nine months.”

     “I know,” the woman replied, “believe me, I know and I wish I could give you a definite answer.”

     “You don’t know,” said Sally.

     “I never knew.  I always wondered, just like you now, but I knew whichever man it was, you had a great father.  We can, of course, get a DNA test if you want but I’m just so ashamed to tell you I don’t know.”

     Sally could see that the question tormented her mother and she moved to her side and grasped her hands.

     “No,” she whispered gently, “no DNA.  It’s enough to know that I am like my baby.  I was born of love and it’s enough to know that I have you as my mother.”

     They embraced and cried for a long while and then the tale told from the past, the romance of Barbara and Paul, was forever ended; or so they thought.

 

WAITING

 

                 It no longer mattered what Dr. Spielman said.  In spite of his encouraging progress reports about Stephen’s growth, Sally had felt nothing since the fall three weeks earlier.  She made countless efforts to contact Stephen and pushed against her abdomen to prompt a movement but nothing had given her a sign of hope.  Her fears were greater than ever and she had insisted on another sonogram to prove Stephen was breathing and that he had a regular pulse.

     Once again the report was positive and if everything was as normal as the doctor had said, why wasn’t Stephen responding?  She continually reminded herself of the kindly woman with her message of hope but still, without signals directly from Stephen, everything could be in error.

     “He’s probably already spoiled to death,” teased Elizabeth over lunch.  “With you constantly pampering him and with a room full of clothes and toys waiting for him, he’s most likely spoiled rotten and making you give him more attention.”

     “If he is,” joked Sally, “the doctor won’t have to smack his behind.  I’ll do it for him.”

     Elizabeth nodded appreciatively.  “Look, the doctor knows his stuff and you worrying all the time doesn’t do any good to the baby either.  You need to relax and have faith.  Everything is going to be just fine.”

     Sally tightened her lips in thought.  “You’re right I know,” she said.  “It’s just that he was so active and now . . . .”

     “And now you’re the problem, young lady, not the baby,” Elizabeth interrupted.  “And right now you probably have less to worry about than you ever have in all the time of your marriage.”

     Sally frowned.  “Why’s that?”

     “Mark didn’t tell you?”

     “No, tell me what?”

     Elizabeth reached across the table and patted Sally’s hand.  “That husband of yours discovered that Carl Vittrone had been taking kickbacks from the trucking companies for years.  We’ve been paying about twenty-five percent more than we needed to.  He spoke up at our supervisor’s meeting and asked for permission to change transport companies and hunt for qualified low bidders.”

     “Mark?” Sally asked in shock.

     “Your Mark,” giggled Elizabeth, “and Allen was so impressed, he told me last night that we needed a distribution manager to oversee all the transportation department and the docks and he thinks Mark is the right guy.”

     Sally’s mouth was agape with the stunning news.  “He didn’t say anything,” she gasped. 

     “Oh, he doesn’t know yet.  Not about the distribution manager promotion.  Allen will probably announce it at next week’s meeting.”

     Sally’s hands automatically covered her mouth with surprise and she released a short giggle of absolute pleasure.

     “I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed.

     Elizabeth nodded slowly, “And he did it, Sally.  No favors or favoritism.  Mark did all this on his own and has given us better efficiency on the docks than we ever had with that crook, Vittrone.  And by the way, Vittrone was really quick to take his retirement and move to Costa Rica.  He probably knew someone would catch on to what he’s been doing for years.”

     Sally giggled again with delight and shrugged  as she said, “I’m just so proud of him..”

     “Okay,” continued Elizabeth, “some advice from your second mother, okay?  Don’t say a word.  Let him be the one to tell you and act all surprised and excited.  He deserves that.”

     Sally nodded eagerly and understood that Elizabeth was right.  It wouldn’t be right for her to always know things in advance.  Mark had a right to his own surprises and this would be a big one.

     “He’ll have his own office and a secretary.  I’ll make sure she’s plump and not too attractive.”

     They laughed aloud with the comment before Elizabeth reached again and grasped Sally’s arm. 

     “Now for our secret part,” she said.  “This is me and you stuff.  If Mark’s our distribution manager, he’ll have to be a member of the International Distribution Association that next year will have its annual convention in Vienna.”

     “Vienna?” gasped Sally.  “Mark will go to Vienna?”

     Elizabeth nodded with a suspicious grin.  “The convention lasts a week.  In that time you and me can go to Paris and shop till we drop.  The baby will be six months old and your mother will jump at the chance to take care of him for a week.  Whadya’ think?”

     “No way!” Sally said with open astonishment.  “Paris?  You and me in Paris for a week?”

     “Sounds like fun, right?” asked Elizabeth excitedly.

     “It sounds like a miracle,” Sally responded.  “It was always one of my dreams.  The Lourve, Notre Dame, the Arc de Triomphe de l'Étoile!”

     “You speak French?” asked Elizabeth with a sudden interest.

     “Three semesters.  Not perfect but I think I could get by.”

     “Hey!” Elizabeth said exuberantly, “it’s going to be the best time of our lives!  And another thing, babe, Mark’s going to make good money in this position.  If you want to move to a better apartment or even look to buy a place in the suburbs, I think you’ll be in a position to do it.”

     Sally blinked a few times in thought.  “Do you know the poem, ‘Sunday?’” she asked.

     “No, I don’t think so,” Elizabeth replied.

     Sally stared through the café window and spoke absently, as if the words were coming from a place far away.

“It is Sunday, no reason to leave the bed.  I pull the blanket about my shoulders and stare at the ceiling.  You loved Sundays and came to me with toothpaste kisses and warmed your feet against mine.
You loved putting your head on my shoulder and suggesting things we could do; museums and shows, exhibits and parks.  There was no limit because it was Sunday and you loved Sundays

There were days when your eyes were soft
saying “Love me or I’ll die”  And days when passion clawed with your eyes saying “Love me or I’ll kill you”
And from the bed I can see the flowers you planted on the balcony and almost feel your fingertips coursing my cheek in seductions so subtle my mind could not
understand the message of my body.  And you would finish with trembling breath before surrendering to soft, embarrassed giggles. 

Hands fitted into each other’s, we would walk
pausing only for an expresso at Dario’s and a while to lean on the railing of the bridge to watch the dark mystery of the canal moving upon itself.  We would lie in the tall grass and watch fireflies dance against the tent of night then race madly to catch the last train home where we would eat bread and cheese
And drink cheap wine on the table we made from boxes.

“And life was young, alive and beautiful
because it was Sunday, and you loved Sundays.”

Elizabeth’s face was filled with awe as she listened to the recitation. 

“That’s beautiful,” she said gently but with a voice overflowing with emotion.  “It’s just so beautiful!”

Sally smiled slightly.  “I don’t think we need to change apartments or buy a house.  Not right now.  I want to have more time in our little place that’s furnished with our love and where we whisper at night and laugh together.  I like the way the moonlight paints the bedroom wall and how the radiator rattles before the steam comes through the pipes. 

“Tell me, second mama,” Sally mused, “where is the place you would like to go back to if you had the chance?”

Elizabeth feigned a scowl.  “You’re going to know all my secrets,” she complained.  “But no, there is a place.  God, it was so long ago.  It was a little place over a garage at Fire Island.  It belonged to my boyfriend’s uncle but it was vacant most of the year.  So one long weekend, I said I was going with friends to a concert and then I’d spend the rest of the weekend at my best friend’s home and he told some kind of lie to his parents.  My best friend, Connie Winslow, promised to cover for me in case my parents called and my boyfriend lifted the keys to the garage apartment from his father’s key ring. 

“We were like your baby in a lot of ways.  We were privileged and spoiled and thought all of life would have to go the way we wanted.  But for three days everything was the way we wanted.  We left our footprints in the sand and watched high tide.  We cooked hotdogs over a beach fire and for three days we were broke because we didn’t dare use our credit cards.  What money we had we needed to use for the train home.  We didn’t plan anything.  At least, not very well. 

“Would I go back there if I could?  Yeah, I would.  Maybe only for three days, but it was enough.”

Sally listened intently with a half-smile.  “So what happened to him?”

“Ha!” exclaimed Elizabeth, “he decided to go to Princeton, packed up and left without a goodbye and I hated him for years.  Except for those three days, of course.”

Again they laughed heartily and Sally thought of how much she enjoyed her time with Elizabeth.  It was always so positive and sincere.  She was thankful that Elizabeth invited her to lunch or shopping or events with such regularity.

It was on a Sunday morning that she had the idea.  It was impossible that the doctor would be right and yet Stephen would maintain his silence and stillness.  Either there was something wrong that had not been detected or Elizabeth was right and Stephen was proving that he could be in control and do things Sally considered as misbehaving. 

On that morning she took the glass from the rack beside the sink and filled it with cold water.  From the cabinet she retrieved an Alka Seltzer tablet and dropped it into the water.  She enjoyed watching the fizzing affect with tiny sparklets flying into the air.  Slowly, deliberately, she drank the liquid and returned to the bedroom to sit on the side of the bed.  Within seconds she released a loud burp and felt a penetrating kick to her abdomen.

“Ah ha!” she messaged.  “You don’t like that, huh?”

“Mama!” cried Stephen.

“Don’t you Mama me, you little scamp!  All this time you could have let me know you’re okay and you didn’t do it!”

“That noise!” he complained mournfully.

“Good!  You deserve all that noise, young man!”

“Aughhh,” he moaned, “I needed time, Mama!  I didn’t do anything bad!”

“Do you know how worried I was?” she demanded.

“Yes, but I’m okay except for all this noise!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me you were okay?” she asked sternly.

“If you know it or don’t know it, I’m still okay,” he replied.

Sally pressed her hands firmly on her stomach.  “Now listen to me, Stephen.  I’m your Mama and I always will be.  I know you’re smart and know a lot of things but I’m still the Mama.  When I want you to tell me something, you need to do it.”

Stephen released a soft, whining sound before saying, “It’s getting crowded in here, Mama.  I’m changing a lot and sometimes I need to concentrate and relax.”

“I know you’re not comfortable, Stephen.  Neither am I.  But do you think its right for me to worry for weeks just because you won’t speak to me?”

Stephen kept his silence for a long moment before saying, “I’m worried too, Mama.  It’s not just you.”

The words stunned Sally and forced her to suspect the worst.  “What are you worried about, baby?  You said you were okay.”

“Maybe you won’t understand,” said Stephen.

“Tell me,” she told him.

“The more I grow, the more I forget, Mama,” he said.

Sally softened her touch upon her stomach and her voice became more soothing.  “What are you forgetting, Stephen?”

“The things I knew from the place,” he told her.

Sally remembered him speaking of ‘the place’ before, that mystical place where energies existed either before life or after death.

“Do you know why?” she asked.  “Do you know why you’re forgetting?”

“I think its part of preparing,” he said.  “I think we’re not supposed to remember those things when we come out into the world.”

Sally massaged her stomach as if it truly represented him.  “I understand, Stephen.  So you were worried and didn’t want to speak with me?”

“It wasn’t you,” he said.  “It was something different.  Something about the place I was before here.”

“Oh,” she sighed.  “But the only thing important is that you’re okay.  And know what, Stephen?  When you get here we’re going to make a million of wonderful things to remember.  Maybe they won’t be the Einstein kind of things from that place but they’ll be happy things about kisses and touches and rainbows.  I promise we will.”

“Okay, Mama,” he said.

“But you’re really alright,” she asked as a final assurance.

“I’m okay,” he said.

“Good, baby,” she said with a wide smile of satisfaction.  “Mama loves you.”

“Mama?”

“Yes, Stephen?”

“It’s important that I remember, Mama.  You asked a lot of questions that most Mamas never ask and I wanted to tell you something very, very important.  I don’t remember it as well as I should because a lot of my memories of the place are going away.  I was trying very hard to remember and that’s why I was quiet.  I needed to think and try to remember.”

“Remember what, baby?” Sally gently replied, “I don’t understand.”

“You asked about a god and the place.  But there’s something more, Mama.  Something bigger than all that and I knew it before.  I knew it before my memories started to go away.  It’s something I have to tell you so that you’ll understand everything about us;  everything about everything.  It’s the one answer to everything and it’s almost clear.  I can almost remember it so I can tell you.  I need to think very hard, Mama.”

“I understand,” she whispered.  “You do what you have to do and I won’t bother you anymore.  I just needed to know that everything was okay.”

After that Stephen drifted into his thoughts and left his mother with the greatest one.  She couldn’t imagine what it was that Stephen knew but recognized it was something monumental.  From that moment on she would wait patiently for the moment when her baby would announce his recollection.  Until then she would live with what was perhaps the greatest doubt man had ever known.

It was not long after Stephen’s revelation that Sally and Mark met Elizabeth’s husband.  It was something Sally thought was a long time coming and she had often wondered why the man remained in the background without being part of their friendship.

Mark had returned from work, showered and changed clothes when a knock came at the door.  He had a bath towel around his shoulders from drying his hair and was embarrassed to see his employers at the door, both in business attire, proper and elegant.  He nervously asked them to enter and called for Sally.

When Sally arrived, she took the towel from Mark’s hands and gladly heard Elizabeth’s introduction.

“I can’t ever get him out of the office,” said Elizabeth, “but today I told him he could come with me or have my infamous cold shoulder for a couple of weeks.”

“A fate worse than death,” said Allen and accepted Sally’s hand.  “And Mark I know,” he said, extending his hand again.

“Hello, sir,” said Mark, “would you like to sit down?”

Sally took Elizabeth’s hand and the pair entered the other room.  Before speaking she looked back to where the two men were speaking.  She nodded her approval of the distinguished man with greying temples.  “He’s handsome, Elizabeth,” Sally scolded.  “He’s not at all plain looking like you said!”

Elizabeth glanced back into the living area.  “The older you get, the better looking young men are.  I guess he’ll do,” she mused.

Later, when they had settled onto the sofa and surrounding chairs, Allen told them, “I’ve never seen Liz take to anyone like she has you two.  You’re all she talks about.  Tell me how you did it, I could use a little of that attention.”

Elizabeth was seated beside him and took his arm, pressing her head to his shoulder.  “You can have all the attention you want,” she said gently, “the problem is I’d have to make an appointment to give it.”

“I used to have a company,” said Allen, “now the company has me.”  He suddenly looked around and announced, “we came to invite you to dinner, what do you say?”

Sally was surprised.  Allen was far more gregarious and charming than she had imagined.  He seemed to be thoughtful and cultured, the kind of man that would appeal to Elizabeth.

They parked at the Essex House and already had reservations at Alain Ducasse that Sally recognized as one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.  Allen explained that Elizabeth had a weakness for French cuisine and mused that she probably lived in Paris in her past life because she practically lived there now.

The conversation was typical with Allen asking about the basic things in the young couple’s lives.  He wanted to know when the baby was due and if a name had been selected.  As if by impulse he suddenly said to Sally, “Liz tells me you like poetry and the arts.”

“I do,” confessed Sally.

Suddenly he stood and extended his hand.  “Then you must see the fireplace mural here in the hotel,” he said.  As if in jest, he asked, “Is it okay with you, Mark?”

“By all means, “he replied.

“You didn’t ask me,” teased Elizabeth.  “Imagine the rumors of you walking in a swank hotel with a beautiful woman on your arm.”

Allen sneered in jest, “And pregnant, too.  It can only enhance my reputation, my dear.”

He placed Sally’s arm in his and led her through the lobby and into an area where a magnificent mural decorated an expansive wall.

“It’s lovely,” gasped Sally.  “It’s so delicate and precise.”

“You are a connoisseur,” he praised but quickly added.  “To tell the truth I wanted to talk to you for a moment without Liz being around.”

Sally’s curiosity filled her eyes as he led her to a chair beside a reading table.

“I went to visit Andie,” he said.  “She told me you had visited.  She wants you to know that she only promised not to tell her mother.  She told me about all the things you told her . . . .”

“Mr. Warrington,” interrupted Sally, “I didn’t mean any harm or to be so harsh, but . . .”

“No,” he said firmly, “I’m just so grateful.  She called me daddy.  She hasn’t done that since she was twelve years old.  She tells me you’re in contact with her and helping with her studies.”

Sally nodded.  “We’ve exchanged a couple of letters.”

“She’s studying.  I can’t even imagine that.  She says she wants to be a counselor.  She’s in a social service program at Rutgers, I think.  And she’s in a drug program.  She says she’s in her third month.  She never lasted that long in rehab.  And she told me that you really laid down the law with her.”

Sally shook her head and her voice was almost mournful.  “Elizabeth was really suffering.  She tried not to let it show but I could tell.  I didn’t think it would do any harm for Andie to have a little motivation.”

Allen took her hands.  “What is most important is that you went there.  You did that on your own and didn’t want anyone to know.  That’s the kind of things that really have meaning.  I am very grateful and I wanted you to know it.  I’m also grateful for what you’ve done for Liz.”

Sally issued a nervous laugh with the comment.  “I could never do more for Elizabeth than she’s done for me.  Never in a million years.”

Allen smiled knowingly.  “She’s happy and vibrant now like the old Liz I knew before all the problems with Andie.  She’s got that old spark that made her impulsive and fun.  You did that for her and I wanted to thank you.  That’s all, I just wanted to say thanks and now we’d better get back or they’ll eat without us.”

Elizabeth and Mark were reviewing the menus as they returned and Allen helped Sally with the chair before settled next to Elizabeth and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Well,” said Elizabeth, “if that’s what a mural does for you, go look at it again.”

When they had ordered, Allen sipped of his wine and examined Mark’s face.

“I heard about what you discovered about Carl Vittrone,” said Allen.

“Yes sir,” Mark replied.

“You could have done the same thing, you know.  You could have gotten your kickback and no one would have known the difference.”

“I would,” said Mark.  “I would have known.”

“That’s good,” said Allen, “I like that.  Accounting tells me that you’ve got several bids and the difference is surprising.”

Mark nodded.  “I calculate more than two hundred thousand dollars.”

Sally frowned, her face reflecting surprise and Elizabeth touched her foot under the table, signaling for her to remain quiet and permit the conversation to continue.

“So what do you plan to do?” asked Allen.

Mark seemed to forget the meal and the surroundings.  He was energetic and intense in his evaluation.

“We’ve got four low bidders out of more than thirty.  I refused to accept any bids from the companies doing the dirty work with Vittrone.  I told them they were out.  So the four new companies have six months to match up with performance records.  No damage goods, no shortages, no delays.  After six months they will have evaluations and another six months.  After a year, we’ll negotiate a year contract based on performance and if everything’s above board after that, we’ll talk about something long term.”

Allen listened carefully.  “That’s hard ball, isn’t it?  I mean, it’s pretty rough for distribution services.  Will the freight companies go for it?”

“They jumped at the opportunity,” Mark informed him.  “We’re not going to tolerate any of the losses and shortages as before.  Every item, every shipment has to be intact and counted.  I mean, Mr. Warrington, some months we had twenty percent losses because of supposed shortages from the dock and losses in transit.  That can’t continue.  It wasn’t just Vittrone but some of his cronies on the dock listing shortages that wound up as outright thefts.”

“Thefts?” asked Allen with interest.  “Are you sure?”

Mark nodded slowly as if disliking giving the bad news.  “I’ve asked the dock workers to use a parking area after the fence and their vehicles will be reviewed by the gate guards.  I’ve asked security to rotate guards every thirty days so there won’t be any collusion with the dock workers. Every dock employee is searched as a pedestrian or driver.  We just had to get control and I didn’t know any other way.”

Allen Warrington cleared his throat nervously and spent a moment considering the information given by his young employee.

“It appears you’ve more saved the company far more than your salary,” he began.  “I’ve already asked Personnel to start searching with the head hunters for someone to take your place.”

“To take my place?” Mark said with a tone of panic.  “Why?  I mean, I’ve tried to do my best, I really have.”  His eyes met Sally with bewilderment. 

“As soon as we find a good replacement, you’ll move into the office of Distribution Manager.  It’s a new position we’ve never had before but you’ve shown us that we needed it.  It’s a middle management posture and I’ll expect a lot from you.”

Mark reacted with astonishment and he automatically reached Sally’s hand beneath the tablecloth.  “I don’t know what to say,” he muttered.  “I haven’t been with the company very long.  It’s just a big surprise.”

Allen shared a wide smile of satisfaction with Elizabeth.  “I think you’re better than being a dock supervisor, Mark,” he said confidently.  “It would be a loss of your talent to keep you on the dock.  I know you won’t prove us wrong.  We’re talking about a third more than you’re earning now and some perks Personnel will tell you about.  If there’s anything you need, remember my door is always open.”

Once the Warrington’s had delivered them to their building, Mark helped Sally mount the stairs laboriously.  Closing the door of the apartment behind them, Sally fell into his arms and they laughed aloud with their newfound luck.  They sat on the sofa where Sally pressed against Mark and reviewed their good fortune with a sense of awe.  The apartment had been converted into a lovely dwelling perfect for a young family.  Mark had gained employment and now a job had been suddenly converted into a career.  The company car, all the gifts providing welcome to the baby and the renewal of a relationship with Sally’s mother.  They could not avoid asking why they had been so favored and finally determined the singular cause was Elizabeth Warrington and they felt humble that they had been brought into the woman’s life.  Elizabeth continued to visit regularly and at times arrived while Sally’s mother was present.  The women would greet each other with warm embraces and together they would play the mother roles of deciding what was best for Sally and the baby.

Stephen had been silent again for another two weeks and Sally sorely missed their conversations.  She understood when Stephen had spoken of his need for solitude and thought but is silence left an absence in her life.  At last, she decided to intrude with all the good news waiting him as he neared his arrival to her arms.

Sally sat on the toilet and filled her thoughts with Stephen.  It was a private moment she could share with him and hoped he would respond.

“Your daddy has a new job, baby,” she started.  “It’s an important job and I’m so proud of him.  I know you will be too.  I know you need to think but Mama misses you and I’m so curious about this big thing you need to tell me.”

“I almost remember,” said Stephen.  “Sometimes it is clearer than other times.  I will remember it completely if I concentrate enough.”

Sally smiled softly.  “Is it something about you and me?” she asked.

“It is something about everyone,” he replied.  “It is the message of all things from the first birth to the last death of humanity.  It is the reason and the cause and what was before and what is after.  It is everything and its a few words with the meaning of everything.  I feel it but I need to put the feeling into the words.  I will remember soon.”

Sally chuckled nervously.  “Baby, you’re talking about what every philosopher has searched for since the beginning.  You have that answer, Stephen?  You know what no one has ever known?”

“Yes, Mama,” he responded, “and I need to rest and think.”

Alone in the tiled world of the bathroom, Sally started to question herself.  Communicating with Stephen had become less frequent and now he spoke of what no one could contemplate and she wondered about pregnancy and whatever affects it might have.  Was she hallucinating about Stephen?  Did messages ever really pass between them or was it only the fantasies of her changing body and demanding hormones?  If Stephen had answered in that moment to reassure her, would it be words born of reality or her imagination?  She wondered of such things and grew sad with her considerations.

When it was time for one of her final examinations with Dr. Spielman, Elizabeth accompanied Sally to the office and waited patiently until her young friend emerged with a smile of confidence.

“We’re doing fine,” announced Sally.  As they moved to the elevator, she added, “I couldn’t believe the scale.  I’ll never have my figure back!”

“Nonsense,” said Elizabeth, “there are some great gyms.  You’ll be back in shape in no time.”

They went to lunch with Sally being especially particular about her selections and chatted as always.  It was then that Elizabeth’s telephone rang and she gave a look of resignation as she answered.

“Elizabeth?” Barbara was asking, “If you’re with Sally, don’t let her know I’m calling, please.”

“Okay, sure,” replied Elizabeth.

“I need to talk with you,” said Barbara.  “I need to talk with someone!  Can you please take a minute and . . . “

“Of course,” said Elizabeth.  “I’m having lunch right now but I’ll call when I’m finished.”

Closing the phone, she forced a smile sighing, “business.”

Once Sally had been taken to her building, Mr. Bernstein was there, volunteering to help her up the stairs and Sally was very appreciative.  Elizabeth offered her farewell, promising to call tomorrow.

Everything was arranged when Elizabeth called from the car.  Elizabeth suggested a coffee shop but Barbara commented, “Isn’t there someplace more private?  I’m afraid I’ll bawl like a baby in public.”

“Give me your address,” said Elizabeth, “we’ll go to my place.”

Elizabeth drove to the address and Barbara was waiting at the door.  She entered the car and seeing her hands trembling and hearing her jerky breaths, Elizabeth decided to say nothing.  They drove in silence to the apartment where Barbara entered and accepted a cup of tea offered by the maid.

“Thank you, Martha,” said Elizabeth to the maid, “we’ll need some time alone.”

“Yes mam,” replied the maid and quickly scurried into another room.

“Okay,” said Elizabeth, “you’re shaking like a leaf.  Tell me about it.”

“George,” Barbara said, dabbing her eyes with a napkin.  “He moved out.  He’s living in a hotel for the past three days.”

Elizabeth frowned, “Why?  Does Sally know?”

“Heavens no,” said Barbara.  “That’s just it.  I don’t want her to know.  Not as far along as she is.”

“So what happened?” asked Elizabeth.  “If it’s something too private you don’t need to tell me.”   

Barbara shook her head negatively in complete despair.  “I was visiting Sally and he was at home alone.  A lawyer called from Illinois.  Paul left me the house and business and everything in Urbana and the attorney was talking about the probate and things.  George just put two and two together and when I got home he had his suitcase packed.”

Barbara’s voice trembled with the narration and Elizabeth spent a long moment processing the information.

“It’s all my fault,” moaned Barbara.  “I don’t blame him but I do love him.  I really do.”

“Have you tried to talk to him?” asked Elizabeth.

“He won’t.  I call and he just hangs up.  I tried to talk to him when he was leaving but he just walked by me and got in his car and left.”

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.  She sipped the tea before speaking.

“Okay, first thing, stop beating yourself up.”

“Oh, how can I help it?” asked Barbara.  “You saw what I’ve done.   The trips to Urbana when George thought I was visiting my sister.  That’s cruel and selfish and God knows totally immoral!”

“Do you think you’re the first woman that loved two men at the same time?” asked Elizabeth.  “The truth is that you did an extraordinary job of juggling your emotions.  Sure, it was a kind of ‘what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him’ sort of thinking but what you got out of it was the best of two worlds.  You had a stable family and a passionate love.  You were able to compartmentalize two lives and be happy with both.  There are not many women who could have done that.”

Barbara’s eyes were filled with regret and a strange sense of pleading.  “And look what it got me?  After 32 years of marriage,” she stated, “and Sally will be devastated.”

“Sally’s a tough chick,” observed Elizabeth.  “She’s not going to fall apart over this so you don’t need to, either.”

Barbara was surrendering to tears and trembling again when she declared simply, “I want him back, Elizabeth.  I just want him back.  I don’t deserve him but I never knew what it would be like without him.”

Elizabeth spoke with a slow resolve.  “First of all, this isn’t something that’s going to go away quickly.  It’s going to take time and you need to keep your wits about you.  He needs time for the shock and anger to wear down.  You have to understand how he feels.  But after 32 years he’ll start putting priorities in order and you have to be ready for it.”

“Let’s not say anything to Sally right now,” said Barbara.

“And your husband won’t tell her?”

“No, George wouldn’t do that.  He’s not vengeful or cruel.  He won’t tell Sally.”

In the days that followed, Elizabeth and Barbara maintained contact and shared their opinions and news.  Barbara had heard nothing from her husband but discovered that he was continuing to pay the household expenses like electricity, gas, water, etc.  She was surprised to learn that he had paid her credit cards and hadn’t cancelled any.  Elizabeth assured her that all that represented good signs that there was every reason to hope for reconciliation and Barbara appeared to be more accepting of her circumstance.

During those days Mark had been relocated into his new office and his name gleamed from a plaque on the door.  Working with officials from company security, he planted the rumor that the company would be getting search warrants to see if any of the dock employees had stockpiled merchandise from the days of Vittrone.  The rumor was totally false but security employees watched the residences of the dock workers and found four of them busily transferring merchandise in early morning hours.  Warrington was highly diversified and the majority of the merchandise was from its division dealing with electronics and was easily marketed to independent stores.  Methodically, security officials moved in and reclaimed the items while the personnel office was busy processing their terminations.  Accounting made an inventory of the merchandise and determined that more than one hundred thousand dollars had been recovered.  

The head of security asked for a meeting with Allen Warrington with Mark present and the prime question was whether or not the company would press charges.

“Being without a job in these times is punishment enough,” said Allen.  “When they start looking for work without a recommendation, they’ll realize what a mistake they’ve made.”

The investigation and final result served a variety of purposes.  Men working on the dock learned that the company had controls in place and there were no longer missing materials or merchandise.  At the same time, it was obvious that the new Distribution Manager was determined to reduce costs and improve efficiency.  Mark had created charts measuring the time of departure and arrival of the trucks and the accuracy of the merchandise on the manifest and receiving forms.  Within days the control seemed complete and he was receiving praise from all quarters.

As the positive results became well known and talked about throughout the building, Allen’s confidence in his young manager increased.  More frequently the two couples joined for dinner and the relationship evolved into first names and open confidence.  Sally had never been more content except for the continued silence of the little life dwelling within her, searching for some eternal secret.

Each night Sally preluded her slumber with a goodnight to Stephen and at times she could feel a slight stirring as if he was curling into position to sleep.  He still gave jolting kicks at times but she didn’t protest.  Mark delighted in seeing the actual imprint of Stephen’s foot against Sally’s skin and often pressed his ear against her stomach as if trying to detect sounds. 

Sally often shook her head with disbelief when opening her closet.  Elizabeth had filled it with maternity clothes, far more than she could ever use.  Only days before a notice had arrived in the mail that the closest private hospital was prepared to receive her at the first signals of labor pains.  The associated charges for childbirth had been paid and everything was awaiting her arrival.  Sally didn’t have to ask who had made such preparations and felt her gratitude mounting as with each act of Elizabeth’s generosity.

“There are twelve apartments in your building,” said Elizabeth on day when she came to visit.  “You’d think that it would have an elevator.  How are you going to go down all those stairs when the time comes?”

“One at a time,” joked Sally.  “Don’t worry, we’ll make it.”

Elizabeth showed her worried fact with a curled lip of rejection.  “Know what, babe?  I really think you need to be somewhere else until the baby comes.  With your mother or with me . . . .”

The words had slipped from her lips

before she had given thought to the problems in Barbara’s home.  Quickly she reclaimed her thought, adding, “With me you’d have an elevator and just minutes from New York University Hospital.”

Sally laughed heartily at Elizabeth’s concerns.  “Elizabeth,” she began, “women have babies in rice paddies and jungles.  It’s not like a heart transplant!  I’ll be just fine and Mark can help me.”

“And if you go into labor while he’s at work?” the woman insisted.

“I can call an ambulance.  They took me down the stairs just fine after my fall.  Anyway, labor usually lasts several hours so Mark could probably get here in plenty of time.”

Elizabeth lifted her hands in surrender and sighed with resignation.  “Okay, but you have to call me, got it?  I mean with the first pain or when your water breaks.  I get a call, right?”

“Of course,” said Sally.”

The time had narrowed to the final two weeks before the date proposed by Dr. Spielman and Sally had her small suitcase packed with the essentials she thought she would need at the hospital.  She was constantly encountering another item to stuff into the bag but found an extreme pleasure in preparing for the arrival of Stephen.

“I’m going to be so happy to see you,” she told him.  “Just to have you in my arms and hear you tell me that you’re happy to be with me.”

“I can’t do that, Mama,” said Stephen.  “It doesn’t work that way.”

“What do you mean, baby?”

“Mama, when the connection is ended, we won’t talk like this anymore, not ever again.”

“Why not?” said Sally with alarm.

“Because that’s how it is.  When I am separated from, you will remember our conversations for a short while and then they will be forgotten.  What we have now is for now and not for living in the world.”

“No, Stephen!” she cried, “I thought we would always be like his!  I thought we were special!”

“I can’t stay like I am in your world, Mama.  It would be too hard.”

“How, baby?” she asked.

“It’s that everything is different here, Mama.  It was different in the place. Everything outside of me, here in the world, is measured by references to the world.  Our references are to the nature of all things.  It’s like when you and Daddy went to church last week,” said Stephen.

“You knew where we were?” asked Sally.

“Yes, Mama.  And the voice was saying that the billions of combinations of DNA codes are evidences of a supreme being.”

Sally smiled with a growing curiosity.  “That’s not true?” she asked.

“Mama, it’s true only by references to this tiny planet.  In other places those combinations would be totally normal and the things considered as miracles billions of times more spectacular.”

She waited for a moment, hoping he had more to tell her.  When he did not continue, she asked, “Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“No,” he replied. “I will tell you when it is all reassembled in my mind.”

“Well, give me a hint,” she begged impatiently.  “I’ve thought about this for weeks!”

Stephen audibly sighed as if deciding what should be told.  “When was man’s beginning?  Did he have a beginning?  Is the universe a code containing an ultimate message for all life within it?  What is the universe there for?  Is it he only universe or an extension of others, larger and greater?  Is the soul only a word?  What is death and does it truly end mortal existence?

“What else would you want to know, Mama?”

“All that?” Sally gasped.  “You’ll tell me all that?”

Stephen answered with a sound solemn and wise.  “It can all be told in only a few words, Mama.  I am constructing those words as I think.”

Sally was excited beyond words with the expectation of Stephen’s pending announcement.  Still, a sadness fell upon her with the news that all she shared with her baby would be abruptly ended and, as he warned, eventually forgotten.

Elizabeth had brought a lovely baby book that would guard the photos of the baby’s growth and adventures in the years to come.  Sally knew it was silly, but she held the book in front of her stomach and spoke gently.

     “Look at this, Stephen, isn’t it beautiful?”

     Thumbing through the pages she continued, “You’re going to be handsome like your daddy and we’ll take lots of pictures.  Are you listening to me?”

     “Yes, Mama,” he replied.  “Go to the window, please.”

     “To the window?” she asked, glancing toward the large living area window that looked out over the neighborhood.

     “Yes, please.”

     Sally clutched her stomach as she stood and went to the window where she parted the drapes and gazed over the traffic and knots of people rushing across streets.

     “The light,” said Stephen, “the sun . . .”

     “You like that, baby?” she asked tenderly.

     “Yes, Mama.  It feels good.”

     “It does,” she sighed in agreement.  “It feels very good.”

     “Mama, do you remember that poem?”

     “Which poem, Stephen, I know a lot of poems.”

     “Arriving,” he said, “that was the name.”

     Sally thought for a moment and sat on the window sill, her face close to the glass where she could watch feather clouds pass over the rooftops.

     “Beyond the words and hopes and dreams,” she recited with sweet emotion, “Reality demands its rightful place.  And questions shout to be understood while doubt forms in dark clouds of mist.  Is this sense that fills heart and mind the legend humanity calls love?  Or do I deceive with faith and yearning with the desire to know fulfillment?

“Will the wonder that haunts my thoughts and loins fade with the weathering of all familiar?  Can something so consuming endure the whims of time and experience?

“Dare I gamble my fragile soul on the wager to live for the moment? When moments pass like decades and lives until even love has lost all meaning.”

Stephen remained silent for a long moment as if reviewing the words he had heard.

“Those are great questions,” he opined at last.

“Yes, baby, they are.”

“Are there answers, Mama?  Does anyone have answers to those questions?”

Sally pondered the question before replying, “I don’t know, son.  I hope so.”

Elizabeth and Sally’s mother visited regularly through this time as if the two had secretly planned not to leave her alone for any length of time.  Daily they brought tidbits to eat and Mark always had her favorite lemon pecan pie in the refrigerator.  While everyone seemed apprehensive about Stephen’s coming arrival, Sally felt an unusual peace that, even though she would never admit it, was a sense of being blessed beyond all measure.

In the bedroom her suitcase was packed, especially with the clothing and blankets she had selected for Stephen to wear as he left the hospital.  Dr. Spielman had again checked all of the prime factors of the baby’s development and announced that he appeared robust and healthy.  When hearing the words, Sally could not help but recall the weeks of her anxiety and fear after the fall in the shower.

Stephen was especially conversant in those final days and reminded his mother to be patient as he mulled the message he had yet to tell her. 

“It is not a thought,” he explained to her, “it is the entirety of thinking.”

At times she could not grasp the all-encompassing concepts of Stephen but only held him in special awe, often wondering from where such wisdom and knowledge had come.

Always when her mother visited, Sally inquired about her father and was answered with excuses and counterfeited complains about golf.  In reality, the golf clubs rested in the corner of the garage and with each sight of them, Barbara felt a special longing.  It had been three weeks since George had exited the house and driven away and still she was not accustomed to his absence.  The house was strangely empty and silent and she didn’t need to ask why.  Each sight and movement reminded her of him and renewed the gnawing guilt that troubled her soul.

She could not count the times she reached for the telephone, planning to dial the hotel again but feared his rejection more than whatever bitter words he might use.  When the house became unbearable, she invited Elizabeth to join her for coffee and breakfast.

“I like this place,” appraised Elizabeth as she walked through the living area and touched the mantel over the fireplace.  “It has that home feel about it you don’t find in Manhattan apartments.”

“It used to have,” replied Barbara sadly.

Elizabeth scanned the photos in frames on the mantel and pointed to one featuring Barbara and a man with a kindly face. 

“George?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Is he retired?” Elizabeth inquired.

Barbara forced a slight smile of recollection.  “Thirty-four years with the city; Public Transportation Department.  He worked in the control center for the subway system.”

     “He looks like a nice man,” Elizabeth offered with a smile.

     “Oh, he is,” Barbara responded quickly.  “And I sit here all day like an idiot worried about what he’s eating and if anyone can cook his eggs the way he likes them.  Is he sending his clothes out to be cleaned or is he taking his pills?”  Barbara stared off into the distance as if trying to control her emotions.  “But I guess it’s a little late for all that, isn’t it?”

     Elizabeth used little silver prongs to drop two cubes of sugar in her cup.  “Is he a stubborn man?” she asked.

     “He’s hurt,” Barbara retorted quickly.  “He’s not stubborn but he is proud.  I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me.”

     Elizabeth crossed her legs an examined her hostess with interest.  “If it was reversed,” she asked, “and you discovered that your husband had an affair for many years, would you forgive him?”

     Barbara’s face softened with the question and she obviously pondered it at length.  “I don’t know,” she replied.

     “What would be your reasons not to forgive him?” she asked.

     Barbara sighed deeply.  “I guess the big difference would be if it was just a physical thing, an adventure, or if he really loved her.”

     “And if he really loved her?” asked Elizabeth.

     Emotions started to swell in Barbara’s eyes.  “If he loved her, I’d want him to be happy.”

     Elizabeth nodded her understanding before continuing with, “And if she had died?”

     The woman turned again to stare beyond the window and into the bright sunlight.

     “I don’t know,” she replied.  “To be honest, I don’t know.”

     “That’s good,” said Elizabeth.  “So what would George have to do for you to forgive him?”

     The question required greater thought and Barbara started to speak twice but remained silent in thought.

     “He’d have to prove to me that he really loved me,” she offered.

     Elizabeth widened her smile and repeated her nod.  “Then that’s what we have to do, Barbara.  George needs to know you really love him.”

     The statement echoed with hope but Barbara felt she had explored the thought before without finding a method or convincing argument.

     “How?” she asked.

     “We’ll think of something,” said Elizabeth.

     Barbara dabbed her eyes and excused herself for her sadness before telling Elizabeth, “I drive on 59^th Street by the park almost every day.  He always loved the park.  He liked to just sit on the bench and watch people.  He could do that for hours.  I drive by and he’s there, just sitting.  He never sees me but he looks so alone. . . “

     Elizabeth listened intently and couldn’t help but imagine her life without Allen.  She tried to put herself in Barbara’s situation and decide what should be done but couldn’t convince herself that Allen would leave her.

     “I do such stupid things these days,” continued Barbara.  “I still put two plates on the table and I wait for him like he’s in the shower or something.  It’s just all the old habits that won’t go away and I don’t want them to.  They’re all I have now.”

     Elizabeth forced a wide smile and said cheerfully, “Don’t give up hope.  Things have a way of changing quickly.”

     That evening Elizabeth and Allen dined at Scalini Fideli, an Italian Allen especially enjoyed.  Over pasta and rich wine they chatted about Elizabeth’s sister in California and the possibility of finally taking a vacation in the spring.  It was at that juncture that Elizabeth asked the question.

     “What would you do if you discovered that I had an affair for more than thirty years?”

     Allen smiled at first, searching for a signal that the question was rhetorical.

     “Have you?” he asked.

     “No, it’s just a question,” she answered with a scolding tone.  “What would you do?”

     Allen grew thoughtful and took another bite of his butternut agnolotti before speaking.

     “Do you love this guy?” he asked.

     “I did, but he died,” said Elizabeth.

     “That changes things,” he opined.  “But if he’s dead, why tell me about it?”

     “Don’t get all into details,” she scolded.  “This isn’t a management meeting.  He died and you found out about it without me telling you, okay?”

     “I’d be mad as hell,” he replied, gesturing with his fork.

     “Of course you would,” agreed Elizabeth, “then what?”

     “Well, I’d want to see if there was any way things could be made good again between us.”

     Elizabeth beamed with the answer and lifted his hand in hers and kissed it gently. 

     “Thanks,” she said gently.

     After the exercise in relationships, Elizabeth explained all that was happening in Barbara’s life.  Allen was a good listener and interjected questions from time to time before saying that the woman had one big problem.

     “Yeah,” agreed Elizabeth.  “She knows she did something wrong but she also loved her husband.  I don’t know how that works personally, I really don’t, but I guess it could happen.  But she drives down 59^th every day just to get a glimpse of him sitting on a bench.  She called him and he wouldn’t talk to her so she doesn’t call now.  She just sits at home and drowns in her guilt.”

     Allen gazed into Elizabeth’s eyes and squeezed her hand gently.  “You can’t take on everyone’s problems, Hon.  Remember that.  As much as you’d like to, some things need to be worked out between the people involved.”

     She nodded a reluctant agreement and tried not to permit her thoughts to continue searching for solutions.

     It was two-fifteen in the morning when the telephone rang and Elizabeth instinctively knew its reason before answering.

     “Oh good!” she said happily, “Mark, the ambulance number is programmed into your telephone.  Just push button number two and it’ll ring.  Don’t let her try to go down the stairs alone, okay?  I’ll be there in a jiffy.  Have you called Barbara?  Good!  Oh God, this is so great!  I’ll be there right away.  Oh, I said that didn’t I?  Don’t be nervous.  Everything’s going to be okay.  Me?  Of course I’m nervous!  I’ll be there in a minute!”

     Allen appeared in his pajamas asking, “Is it time?”

     “Yeah!” Elizabeth squealed with delight.  “You go back to bed, I’ll be okay.”

     Allen was already pulling on his trousers as he answered, “Sure, the way you are right now you’ll kill yourself on the way.”

     “Don’t be silly,” she chided.

     “Okay, you’ll kill someone else.  I’m driving.”

     Within minutes they were rushing into the hospital lobby and giving Sally’s name to the receptionist.  Mark stepped out to greet them and thank them for coming. 

     “They’re prepping her right now,” he explained.  “We just got here a few minutes ago.”

Allen went with him to the waiting room outside the delivery area and nursery while Elizabeth waited in the lobby for Barbara’s arrival.  Time passed with an agonizing slowness before Barbara was entering the large glass doors.

“How is she?” was her first question.

“They’re getting her ready,” said Elizabeth and led her toward where Allen was waiting.

“Mark’s with her,” he offered as a greeting and waited for Elizabeth to make introductions.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” he said.  “Elizabeth counts you as a dear friend.”

Barbara’s anxiety wore on her face as she glanced toward the delivery area but accepted Allen’s gesture with kind words.

At one point the nurses permitted Mark to exit the delivery area with his gown and mask to permit Barbara to visit her daughter.  She was required to don the same garb but stood beside Sally, stroking her hair and sympathizing with her rotation of pain and relief.  At last she told Sally that she needed Mark, not her, and left for Mark’s return.

The labor lasted until the dawn and beyond.  When the clock had reached ten and the women had returned from the hospital cafeteria with steaming coffee, Allen excused himself saying he would soon return.

“It can wait, Allen,” Elizabeth advised.  “Everything will work fine at Warrington’s whether you’re there or not.  This is important.”

“I know,” he said, touching her cheek with a warm smile, “I won’t be long.”

 

ARRIVAL

 

     “Mama?” called Stephen shortly after a long, sharp, penetrating pain had attacked Sally’s lower stomach.

     “What baby?” she gasped.

     “Are you alright?”

     “Yes, Honey, how about you?”

     “Everything’s closing in,” said Stephen.  “Something’s not right..”

     Sally clutched her stomach as she spoke.  “It won’t be too long, Stephen.  We just have to do this together, okay?”

     “Yes, Mama.  I heard Daddy.”

     “Daddy’s here, baby.  We’ll always be here.”

     “That’s good,” said Stephen.  “Mama?”

     “What is it, baby?”

     “I’m a little scared.”

     “Me too, Stephen, but we’ll be just fine, you’ll see.”

     “Mama?”

     “What, baby?”

     “Before I go from here, I want to tell you . . .”

     In that moment the sensation of a new wave of harsh sensations centered on her groin; cramp-like pains with stabbing sensations, sharp and agonizing.  Sally gasped and tried to remember the breathing exercises she had studied privately and yet nothing eased the torture until the clock hands had moved to another space and she was left breathless and fearful.

     Mark had her hands in his, his face filled with worry until she forced a smile in his direction.

     “Stephen?” she said.

     “What?” Mark replied.  “What do you want, Sally?”

     “No, it’s Stephen.  He has something to tell me,” she said weakly and Mark only smiled and wiped the sweat from her forehead. 

     “Stephen’s just fine,” assured Mark as he felt her clutch his hand with the sensation of a pending agony.  “Don’t you worry.”  With all the pain she was enduring, Mark thought she was not thinking clearly when referring to the baby as if it had already arrived.

     “It’s important,” she protested, “he has something to tell me.”

     Before she could continue, Dr. Spielman entered with a nurse and conducted his usual routine.  Once again he gave his assurances that Stephen was well and everything was going along as it should.  Mark thought it was only right to inform those waiting beyond the delivery area of the doctor’s assurances.  The women were relieved with the news and when Mark asked where Allen had gone, Elizabeth only scowled and offered, “He’s a company slave. “ 

     Allen had asked Thomas to drive slowly along the streets bordering the park.  Some of the cars locked in the traffic honked their protests but they continued until Allen spied the singular figure that he concluded could be George.  He could not be certain, of course, but decided he would take the chance and finally alighted from the car as he gave instructions to Thomas, the chauffeur.

“Just keep circling the block until I come back here,” Allen ordered and then watched the car move away into the distance.

     A few steps down the broad walkway, he focused his sight on the man sitting on the bench and absently watching pigeons scatter for popcorn.  Allen sat on the bench beside him and offered a good morning.

     “Good morning,” George responded as if by rote and without expression. 

“It’s George, isn’t it?” asked Allen.

     “Do I know you?” asked George.

     Allen smiled warmly.  “Not yet, but I hope you will soon and we can all be friends.”

     The man’s face hardened suddenly.  “She sent you,” he accused.  “Barbara, she sent you.”

     “No one sent me,” Allen informed him.  “It’s just that sometimes things can really get screwed up, right?”

     “Sometimes,” agreed George, not yet wanting to confide in the man.  “I think she sent you,” he repeated.

     “She hardly knows me,” Allen assured him.  “She’s a good friend of my wife, Elizabeth.”

     “Mark’s boss,” said George with a sudden recognition.  “My daughter has a lot of great things to say about you and your wife.”

     “They’re good kids, Mark and Sally,” Allen offered with a nod.  “They’re going to be great parents.”

     George sighed with resignation.  “I hope they do better than we did,” he opined.  “You know all about it, right?  Barbara and me; you know the story, right?”

     “Liz told me,” said Allen. 

     “And she told your wife all about it?” asked George.

     “Yeah, she did.”

     George laughed aloud bitterly.  “I imagine it was all my fault, right?  She had to spend all our married life cheating on me because why?  I wasn’t romantic enough or being with me just wasn’t fun?  I guess I didn’t measure up to her lover, right?  Well now she has her own life and I only wish I had known about all this twenty years ago.”

     “Yeah,” sighed Allen, “finding out about things like this can really be tough.  It makes you wonder why she came back each year, doesn’t it?”

     George glanced in his direction.  “What do you mean?”

     Allen shrugged slightly as he smiled warmly.  “I don’t know, it’s just that if she had this secret lover and went to him for a couple of weeks every year, you have to wonder why she came home.  I mean, why didn’t she just stay with him if he was so great?  Why would she spend two weeks a year with him and fifty with you?”

     George glanced again against the groups of pigeons strutting on the pathway.  “I don’t care,” he said at last.  “It’s too late to start analyzing what’s already over.  Anyway, he’s dead.  Do you think I want to live with her knowing that she’s mourning him every day?”

     “Yeah, that would be tough,” agreed Allen.

As they shared their moments on the park bench, George became more at ease and obviously in need of someone with whom he could share his tormented thoughts.

     “I thought we were happy,” he confided as he continued his narration, “at least I was.  Maybe I’m just old fashioned but I had a wife and it never occurred to me to run around with another woman.  Oh, I had chances, believe me.  There were women at work that turned heads.  But I always went home.  I thought that’s where I belonged.”

     Allen smiled broadly.  “You’re like me.  Being married was when all the fun and games ended and it was just Liz and me.  We kind of had our own world where no one could go unless we wanted them there.”

     “Yeah,” George said dreamily.

     “Sally and Mark entered into our lives,” added Allen.  “We just enjoyed them so much.  We have our own daughter but she didn’t want the life we gave her.  Sally appreciated everything so much and our own daughter had different ideas.  She’s doing fifteen years in a woman’s prison,” he said solemnly.

     George’s face softened noticeably.  “Wow,” he gasped, “I’m sorry to hear that.  I didn’t know.”

     Allen nodded.  “Yeah, I went to see her a few weeks ago.  I think being in that place is doing some good.  For the first time she’s trying to do something positive in her life.  She’s studying and in drug rehab seriously.  I really think that if they let her go today she’d do okay.  I think she’s learned a lot and would want to do something good with her life.”

     “I hope so,” said George.  “I hope she learns what great parents she has.”

     Allen watched a group of children pass and smiled at their frolics.  “We tried to be good parents but it’s not always easy.  If she came out of there tomorrow we’d have some adjusting to do, too.  I’m pretty sure Liz would feel the same as me.  It’d be hard to trust our daughter again, at least for a long time.”

     George was engrossed in the story as he asked, “Drugs?  Your daughter was into drugs?”

     “Yeah and the wrong crowd, you name it.  We had her in rehab lots of times and nothing worked.  I see now that she’s trying but it’s going to be a long process to learn to trust her.”

     “I can imagine,” agreed George.

     Allen examined George’s face with a slight smile.  “But you know what, George?  You do it because you love them.  All the hopes and betrayals and disappointments, you go on only for one reason.  You love them.”

     George permitted his eyes to lock on Allen’s.  “Yeah,” he muttered. 

     “Liz, my wife, is a really sharp gal.  She knows how to read people.  Our daughter could never really fool her like she did me.  Liz was always a step ahead and I was a sucker for everything I was told.  Liz could look our daughter in the eye and know when she was pulling one over on me. 

     “For the past few days she’s been with Barbara.  They’re good friends and women don’t keep secrets from one another.  They’re not like us because I’m taking the chance that you’ll tell me to go away and mind my own business.  Women don’t do that.  They need girlfriends, sisters and mothers to bare their souls because God knows we don’t really understand them. Barbara’s done a lot of talking with my wife and know what she says? There’s only one person to blame and that’s herself.  She has nothing but wonderful things to say about you. You’re a great husband and father and she wishes she could turn back the years and make some decisions over again. Liz says Barbara’s pretty miserable and accepts complete responsibility for what happened.  She doesn’t think you can ever forgive her and that scares her to death. 

     “We all do things we don’t understand, George.  I remember my first girlfriend with some really special feelings just like I’m sure you do.  But sometimes those feelings don’t fade away into the past.  They just stay there and give us a chance to be young again, filled with life and adventure.  If my first love came into my life again, I don’t know what I would have done but I would have been vital and alive like never before.  I’m sure of that.  So like it or not, friend, Barbara knew two wonderful men in her life and she was blessed.  This Paul guy must have cared about her to leave everything he had to her and now he’s gone and she wants to be in your life fifty-two weeks a year.  You can swallow your pride and give her a chance to be happy with you again or you can walk away and both of you can be miserable from now on.”

     George’s body language expressed his reluctance.  “I wish it was that easy,” he admitted.  “I don’t know how it could ever be the same.”

     “It might not be,” said Allen, “but then it might even be better than ever before.  But one thing I know.  Sally’s in a hospital right now ready to give birth to your grandson.  That baby deserves to have grandparents.  Sally deserves to have both of her parents.  Liz and I deserve to have both of you as friends.”

     George’s eyes widened with astonishment.  “She’s in labor?” he asked.

     “She might have given birth already, I don’t know,” said Allen, “but I’ve got a car waiting for us to go to the hospital.  Barbara’s waiting there with my wife.  So how much are you willing to put behind you?  ”

George openly displayed his anguish.  “I don’t know what to say to her,” he confessed.

     “Why not let her do the talking and just be a good listener?” asked Allen.

     Allen extended his hand and almost reluctantly, George accepted it and stood.  Together they walked to the sidewalk beside 59^th Street until Thomas reappeared with the car.

     It was during this time that Sally’s labor advanced and the periods between labor pains shortened to the point that she had been moved into the delivery room.  Her breaths came short and anguished, responding to the pressures and agony that now seemed to fill her entire body.

     “Mama!” Stephen called with a tone of confusion.

     “It’s okay, baby, you just let Mama do this,” she messaged.

     “You’re doing fine,” Dr. Spielman assured her, “just a few more pushes.”

     Sally tightened her diaphragm and tried to ignore the pain as she pushed hard downward and outward. 

     “That’s it,” the doctor said with encouragement, “you’re doing great, Sally.  Just a little more.  He’s ready to crown.”

     “It’s so close, Mama,” complained Stephen.  “I can’t move!  Everything’s pushing against me!  I don’t like it, Mama!  I’m afraid!”

     Hearing Stephen’s mounting fear gave Sally a new impetus and she tightened her stomach muscles, defied the pain and pushed with every particle of strength she possessed.

     “Great!” said Dr. Spielman, “his head is showing.  We’re almost there, Sally.  Keep it up, you’re doing fine!”

     Taking a few troubled gasps, Sally gritted her teeth and moved all of her strength into the effort to bring Stephen into the world.  Suddenly, she felt a sudden, marvelous relief and the doctor was holding her son within his hands and giving a quick assessment.  The infant rested there and Sally was gasping with exertion when she heard the faint calling.

     “Mama.”

     “Yes, baby, we did it, right?”

     “Yes,” said Stephen.  “This is where I’ll be from now on, Mama.”

     “I know, Stephen.  I love you, baby.”

     “I have to tell you, Mama,” he said.  “It’s so wonderful.  It’s everything there is to know.  It’s the reason for everything and I want you to know.”

     She was pale and trembling but gathered the strength to reply, “Okay, Stephen, Mama’s listening.”

     In that moment a nurse had wiped away the blood and wastes from Stephen’s face and head and Dr. Spielman placed a clamp over the umbilical cord and handed Mark the cutting instrument.

     “Do you want to do it?” the doctor asked kindly.  “Cut right here.”

     “No, Mama!” shouted Stephen.  “No!  I have to tell you!”

     Sally lifted her head weakly and gazed at Mark’s hand poised with the instrument and shouted, “No!  Wait!” 

     The cord was cut neatly with a sharp, clicking sound and Stephen was given a cap and was wrapped in a soft blanket.  Ceremoniously, the baby was brought to Sally’s arms where her tears swelled with the sight of him.  Mark came to her side and gazed lovingly at the new member of their family.

     When the tiny infant rested in the crook of his mother’s arm, Sally called forth, “Stephen?” and all was still and tranquil.  By some intuitive measure she was aware.  The time of their sharing of thoughts and dreams was over and they would need to embark on a new life constructed of the offerings of the world.  The eternal secret had ended with the clip of their connection, just as Stephen had predicted.

     Stephen was put into a heated isolette and placed in the nursery where Barbara and Elizabeth awaited.  Like grandparents and godparents everywhere, Stephen was found to be perfect and was viewed with an intense scrutiny. 

     “Congratulations, grandma,” said Elizabeth and the women embraced, each wiping away their tears of joy when Allen and George appeared at the door.  Elizabeth did not notice their arrival at first but spied Barbara’s expression of astonishment and turned quickly.

     Allen took Elizabeth’s hand and said gently, “Why don’t we step outside for a while, huh?”

     “No,” said George abruptly, “you’re a part of this as much as anyone and we want you here.”

     Barbara examined Elizabeth’s face as if searching for advice but felt only George taking her by the shoulders. 

     “If you have anything to say,” he told Barbara, “say it now because whatever it is, I never want to speak of it again.”

     Barbara’s lip trembled noticeably as she nodded with tears marking her cheeks.

     “I’m so sorry,” she said.  “I love you, George.  I love you with all my heart.  I don’t want to be without you.”

     “Then let’s take a look at our grandson before we go home,” he told her as Barbara took his arm and held with a fierce appreciation. 

Elizabeth gazed at Allen with a new sense of wonder. “Thank you,” she whispered, “you’re quite a guy, you know that?  How did you know where to find him?  How did you convince him?”

     Allen watched the couple gazing beyond the nursery window with their arms entwined and smiled.

     “I went where I would have gone and said what I would have wanted to hear,” he told his wife.  “He just needed to hear it and she needs to say it.  It’s not that difficult.”

     And for the moments that followed, two couples examined Stephen with a newfound love and pride.  He would be a vital portion of their lives after that, and they would be a grand part of his.  Stephen would always give his parents the motive and encouragement to share and survive the troubles of time and experience.  Who Stephen was in that temporary chamber locked within his mother would never be reclaimed or recalled but somewhere in the canyons of the soul, his mother would sense that once there was something beyond understanding.

 

CONCLUSION

    

     For all our advancements in technology and the applications of our sciences, our laboratories cannot produce life.  The creation of a living being is reserved for nature as directed by love, passion, experimentation or lesser motives.  The process of forming a human being within another cares not about the moment the spark of life is struck.  The result will always be innocence, purity, dependence and trust.  From the worst of us can be created the best of us and nature is forever forgiving when an infant looks upon its new world.

     I humbly recognize that I can merely capture a slight particle of the life-giving process with the frail tool of a pen.  Only a mother truly understands the mystery of being the receptacle of the promise of life and the secrets associated with it.

     Our world can be a hostile place.  We have littered the landscape of our conscience with acts of extreme violence and cruelty.  Humanity has learned of death by starvation, thirst, disease, war and crime.  If there is to be any hope for us, it will come when we recognize the glistening plea found in an infant’s eye.  It is the message coming from a place we cannot know with its theme remaining peace, life and love.

     These words have been for all the Stephens and Sally’s of our world and for generations yet unborn.

Reviews

[David Scott]

I have read parts of this story Dr. Dave... I will come back to this write and give it a more thorough read, but I did read enough to see the picture you have painted with these words. Life; specifically human life, is precious! We seem to loose this perspective so easily. How did we get to this point, after so much progress in our world, where life is still a cheap commodity?
We need more work like this David.
I love the intention and your skill in telling a story provides a validity to the thought.
Almost tearful...