Empty Arms: A Novel (37 page)

“You were so young. You must’ve been so scared.”

“Being an unwed pregnant teenager in the early seventies was worse than being a serial killer. When I realized I was pregnant, I went to great lengths to hide it from everyone, especially my mother. I wore my skirts halfway unzipped and my belly hidden beneath sweaters. I gave myself bangs to hide the acne on my forehead.”

“How did she find out?”

“She walked in on me while I was changing. She took one look at my belly and went screaming for my father.”

Ellie covers her mouth.

“I didn’t return to school after Christmas break. Mom told everyone that I’d been accepted into a gifted program, but really I went to live at a maternity home in upstate New York.”

“What was that like?”

“On one hand, it was nice to be around other girls like me. Rather than hiding my stomach and worrying about gossip, we knit booties and dreamed about what our lives would be like once our babies were born. But we had no idea what was coming.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back then, maternity homes were glorified baby factories for wealthy, infertile couples. They took in girls like me and gave us a place to hide out for a couple of months. A tutor made sure we kept up with our schoolwork, but we weren’t taught anything about how to raise a child. When a girl would go into labor, they’d take her to the hospital, and we’d never see her again. I know now that it was because they forced every single one of us to give up our babies for adoption so they could profit. When I had you, they told me there was a doctor whose wife couldn’t have any children and they wanted to adopt you. I wanted you to have the very best things in life, but I wanted to find a way to give you those things myself. When I told them I wanted to keep you, they said that I would owe them an exorbitant amount of money for my lodging and medical fees. I didn’t care. I knew I’d find a way to pay them back, even if it took me the rest of my life. Finally, they restrained my arms and legs and pulled you away from me. I never forgot the sound of your scream.” I wipe the tear sliding down my cheek. “That was the last time I ever saw you.” My fingers ache with the urge to dig into the healing flesh on my arm, but Maggie is resting there and her peaceful face reminds me that I can let go of all that guilt now. It’s time to heal.

“I’ve thought about you a lot,” Ellie says, “especially on my birthday. I always wondered if you were thinking of me too.”

I think of the baby blanket I kept hidden in my closet and the faint smell of her that I’ve clung to. All the years I wanted to be with her, and here she wanted to be with me too. I extend my right hand and she takes it.

“All these years, I was sure you forgot about me. I thought you never wanted me.”

“I always wanted you, Ellie. From the moment I felt you move inside me.”

W
E’VE DRIED OUR TEARS
by the time Maggie begins to stir. Ellie lets me change her diaper and carry her downstairs where we rejoin Paul and Doug. “Would you like to hold her?” I ask Paul. He shoots a glance at Doug, who nods, and opens his arms.

He holds her stiffly at first, but as she looks up at him and babbles, his arms soften and he begins to smile. Then he talks to her in a baby voice I’ve never heard before and her lips curl into a gummy smile.

“She already loves you,” Ellie says.

Paul’s head snaps up, and his eyes meet mine. I can see it there in his eyes. He already loves her too. As I watch him cover his face with her burp cloth and surprise her when he pulls it off, I know that no matter what our future holds, we are going to be okay.

Happy, I walk over to the upright piano positioned against the far wall and play my half of Franz Schubert’s “Serenade,” remembering the first day Mom and I arrived at The Home. Ellie sits down next to me, watching my fingers dance across the keys. Then she places her hands next to mine and plays the other half. Tears sting at my eyes as both parts come together to make a whole.

When the song ends, my hands fall into my lap and I stare at the ivory keys with remorse.

“What is it?” Ellie asks, wrapping her arm around me.

“I missed your first piano recital.” My eyes water and a pit forms in my stomach at the thought of all the time that cannot be recovered. “I missed your first day of school, your prom, your wedding, the birth of your first child. All of this.” I gesture to her home. “I missed it all, right down to your first step.”

She can’t argue the truth so she pulls me close instead. “You were with me in spirit.”

D
ESPITE THE CHILLY
A
SHEVILLE AIR
, Doug and Paul decide they want to fire up the grill and make steaks for dinner. “It’ll be a feast,” Doug says, and Paul is at his side with a beer in one hand and a metal spatula in another. It’s been years since I’ve seen him this happy, and I can’t help but think that he’s already taken Doug under his wing like a son-in-law.

Ellie and I stay in the kitchen with Maggie, chopping vegetables for the salad. “Can I ask you a question?” she asks, slicing a cucumber into half-moons.

I steady a tomato beneath my grip. “Anything.”

“What happened to James? Did you ever hear from him again?”

I lay down the knife and turn to her. “Before he left Angel Falls, he made me promise to write. I sent him dozens of letters, but I never got any in return.”

“How could he not write back?”

“It turns out he did, but my mother intercepted all of our letters. James never received any of mine, and I never received any of his.”

Her eyes are full of disbelief. “Why would she do such an unthinkable thing?”

“She thought it was the right thing to do,” I tell her, preserving her grandmother’s reputation.

“When did she finally tell you about the letters?”

“She didn’t. I found them in her attic last winter.”

“So, wait, if he never got any of your letters …” Her eyes are troubled. “Does he even know I exist?”

I nod. “Paul doesn’t know this, but I went to Texas last spring and told him everything.”

“How did he react?”

“He was surprised, of course. When he never got any letters from me, he assumed that I’d forgotten all about him. When he realized what my mother had done, he felt terrible that I thought he’d abandoned us.”

“Do you think things would’ve worked out differently if he knew?”

I shrug. “With or without James, they wouldn’t have let me keep you.”

She frowns. “I hate that.”

“I know. Me too.”

The edge of her lip turns up a little. “Well, at least we have each other now.”

I pull her into my arms. “We do. And I’ll never let you go again.”

The back door opens behind us, and Paul appears with a bloody plate in his hand. “Sorry to interrupt. I need a clean plate.”

We wave him in, and he rinses the plate and tucks it in the dishwasher, something he never does at home.

“Having fun out there?” I ask as Ellie reaches for a clean plate.

“A blast. Doug’s a much better grill master than me.”

I smirk. “That’s not saying much.”

“Thanks,” he says, taking the plate from Ellie. He stops in front of Maggie’s high chair on his way out and pretends to steal her nose, which sends her into a fit of giggles. I smile as the door shuts behind him. I can’t remember the last time I saw him this happy.

By the time Doug and Paul return with a plateful of steaks, the salad looks like a work of art. Maggie sits in her chair, sucking her thumb and watching us, and Anuva is asleep at our feet. Candles flicker on the table as Ellie pours us both a glass of Chardonnay. We raise our wine glasses, and Paul and Doug raise their bottles of beer.

“To new beginnings,” I say, basking in the beauty of my family.

“To new beginnings.”

I
WAKE THE NEXT MORNING
to Paul’s deep snoring, a sign that he had one too many beers last night. I kiss him on the cheek and make my way downstairs to see if anyone else is awake. As I tiptoe through the quiet house, I realize that, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I wasn’t jarred awake by a nightmare. In fact, I didn’t dream at all last night. I guess I didn’t have to.

Ellie is standing in her pajamas making a cup of tea when I walk into the kitchen. “Good morning,” I say softly, careful not to startle her.

She turns to me and smiles. “Good morning … Mom.”

The word catches me off guard and my head snaps in her direction.

“Is it okay for me to call you that?”

A smile fills my face. “There’s nothing I want more.”

She grins and pulls a mug from the cabinet and sets it beside her cup of tea. She turns to me with question in her eyes. “Do you drink coffee or tea?”

“Tea,” I say, noticing the similarity between us.

Sadness flickers in her eyes. She turns and plops a tea bag in my cup and fills it with hot water. “There are so many things I want to know about you.”

“And me you.”

She nods and passes me the piping hot cup. Her expression still isn’t satisfied.

“It will all come with time.”

“Doug likes coffee,” she says, plugging in the coffee maker.

“So does Paul.”

She smiles at this. “They’re like two peas in a pod.”

“They sure are.”

She’s quiet as she spoons the coffee grounds into the machine and her shoulders sag.

“Is something wrong?”

“You’re leaving tomorrow. I know you have to get back for work on Monday, but I wish you were staying longer.”

I put a hand on her back. “I might be able to make arrangements to stay for an extra day or two. And I’ll be back for your birthday at the end of March.”

She turns to me. “I wish you could stay forever.”

“Me too,” I laugh.

“Can you?”

“Can I what? Stay forever?”

She nods, and in her eyes I see everything I’ve ever wanted: the opportunity to be my daughter’s mother. I want to tell her yes and promise that I’ll stay with her, but then I think of Paul, his business, our house, and most of all, my promise to him.

“It would be so great,” she pleads. “We could see each other all the time. And you could help us with Maggie … and her future brothers and sisters.”

My ears perk up at the prospect of more grandbabies. “I’ll talk to Paul,” I promise. “When the time is right.”

P
AUL IS THE LAST
to make it down to breakfast and I can tell by the way he’s squinting, he has a headache. I pour him a glass of water, and Ellie reaches for the bottle of aspirin.

“Did you have too much fun last night?” Doug teases.

Paul smiles, throws back two white pills, and chugs the water. “I guess I can’t keep up with you young kids.”

Maggie bangs her rattle on the high chair tray and Paul winces. Doug eases it out her hand. “Let’s give Poppy’s poor head a break,” he coos, kissing his daughter’s cheek.

Poppy
. Paul shoots me a look as if to ask,
Is that me?
I nod and watch the realization sink in. Doug looks at Ellie, concerned that he misspoke. Ellie looks to me, but I can’t help but smile as I feel the pain and frustration from the past five years magically disappear.

Paul turns to Maggie then and kisses her hand. “Poppy loves you,” he says. “Very much.”

I
T’S AN UNSEASONABLY WARM DAY
, so we pack up the car and take Maggie to a little park on the banks of the French Broad River. Paul spends the day breaking in his new nickname, sitting with Maggie on the swings and pushing her through the park in her carriage. A sliver of sadness pierces my heart when I think about what a great father he would’ve been to our baby.

“Have you ever thought about having more children?” Ellie asks. She is sitting beside me on the picnic blanket staring in their direction.

“I can’t. I’m infertile.”

Her eyes are wide. “Really? Even though you had me?”

I nod. “You’re my one and only.”

She bites her lip, digesting this.

“He wants to adopt,” I tell her.

She looks to where Paul is sitting on the bench with Maggie in his arms. “He’d be a great daddy.”

I watch as he bounces her in his arms and talks to her. “Yeah. He would.”

“And you? Do you want to adopt?”