The Governor's Sons (15 page)

Even though the younger nurse was trying to make her feel better, Kitty didn’t appreciate what she’d just said.
 
How could Kitty forget about what she was doing?
 
The nurse placed a tray of sharp looking steel instruments on a table.
 
They reminded Kitty of something from a mad scientist’s workshop in a horror movie.

If the baby were to live, she wondered, who would it be?
 
What would it do?
 
Could she really live with herself—if she did this? Ash said he couldn’t live with their baby’s death on his conscience.
 
Could she?
 
It wasn’t really a baby yet.
 
That’s what she’d told herself a thousand times as she walked to Dr. Cutter’s office.
 
But with every passing second it continued to grow.
 
That’s why she had to get rid of it now.
 
But did she really want her baby ripped from her womb?
 
Small as it was, did she want it mangled by those sinister looking instruments?
 
Kitty started to cry.

“Honey,” the nurse said, “are you alright?”

“No,” Kitty cried.
 
“I can’t do this.

****

Kitty lay on her bed that evening when she heard Betty Jean slowly open their bedroom door.

“Catherine,” Betty Jean called.
 
Curled in a ball with her back to Betty Jean, Kitty didn’t respond.
 
“Ash told us you went home sick.
 
Whatever you have, maybe he’s got it, too.
 
He looked pale, but he didn’t stick around to chat.
 
And Mama says you haven’t wanted to eat anything.”
 
Betty Jean still received no response.
 
“Catherine—are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“What’s wrong?
 
You sound like you’ve been crying.”

Kitty sat up.
 
Her face was puffy and her eyes, red and swollen.
 
“I have been crying,” she said quietly.

“Catherine—are you really sick—or did Ash—take advantage of you?
 
You said you’d stay away from him.
 
You haven’t let him toy with you—and hurt you, have you?”
 
Kitty started to cry.
 
“Oh, no, Catherine!”
 
Betty Jean sank down to the bed and held her sister.

“Betty Jean,” Kitty said through sobs, “it’s not what you think.”

“Then what happened to upset you like this?”

“Betty Jean,” Kitty pulled away to look at her sister, “Ash and I--we love each other.”

“Catherine—he can’t love you!
 
I mean—not really.
  
Maybe he acts all charming and looks at you like you really mean something to him—but you don’t.
 
And even if you did—what would come of it?
 
Nothing!”

“I
do
mean something to him and he
does
love me!
 
Remember that night—when you thought you saw the Klan?”

“How could I forget?”
 
Betty Jean said sharply.

“You did see flames—for a ceremony by firelight--and a white cape.
 
It belonged to Miss Joan.
 
He put it on me—we repeated wedding vows, and—”

“And you think that just because he performed some kind of marriage farce—you’re husband and wife?”
 
Put that way it sounded stupid, silly and childish.
 
Kitty started crying again.
 
“Now what—he’s made plans with Lillian Ann or some other girl—since he’s really not married to you?”

“No,” Kitty’s voice was almost inaudible.
 
“I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh—my—gosh, Catherine!
 
What were you thinking?
 
Were you out of your mind?”

“Betty Jean—we love each other—things happened.
 
I went to Dr. Cutter’s office today—but I couldn’t go through with it—getting rid of it.”

“Is that what Ash wanted you to do?”

“No.
 
He wanted me to keep it—he begged me to.
 
I’m the one who wanted to have an abortion.
 
But once I got there, I just couldn’t.”

Betty Jean exhaled deeply.
 
“Oh, Catherine, what in the world have you gotten yourself into?”

“Miss Joan knows people up in 86 who help girls like me.
 
And they can arrange an adoption.”

“Adoption?
 
But what if your baby ends up with a set of really awful parents?
 
Or what if they don’t love an adopted baby as much as they’d love their own?”
 
Betty Jean paused for a moment.
 
“Catherine—maybe—maybe you won’t have to think about adoption.”

“Why?”

“Well—Thomas and I—we want to get married.”

“Oh, Betty Jean!”
 
Kitty hugged her sister.
 
“I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks, but listen.”
 
She gently pushed Kitty away so she could look at her.
 
“We’ve talked about a May wedding—a week after I graduate.
 
We both want children.
 
So, it’s possible that—
we
could raise your baby, if you’ll let us.”

“But—Betty Jean—I can’t ask you to do that.”
 
Besides, Kitty thought, how good a mother could she be--half blind as she is?
 
And it’s
my
baby.
 
I’d be a better mother to my own child!
 
Kitty told herself.
 
Realistically, however, her choices were limited.
 
Did she really want strangers to raise her child, instead of her own sister?
 
She’d only considered adoption because she didn’t want the stigma of being unmarried with a baby.

“I want to,” Betty Jean said.
 
“And besides, this way you can visit him—or her—whenever you want, and you’ll know he’s safe and loved.
 
I’ll raise him like my very own.
 
But I’ll—I’ll have to—talk to Thomas about it.
 
I think he’d be willing to do it—for me—if nothing else.”

Kitty hesitated for a few moments.
 
“Alright, but whatever you do—don’t tell him the truth about the baby.
 
I’ll go away and have it—but when it turns up—just say it belongs to a relative or something.”

“Catherine, I can’t start my marriage with a lie.”

“The only reason I don’t want you to tell Thomas is because of Russell.”

“Russell?
 
But you don’t even care about him anymore--you broke up with him.
 
Why are you so concerned about what he thinks?”

“He put me on a pedestal.
 
His whole family liked me.
 
I don’t want any of them thinking--bad things about me.”

“I’ll ask him not to tell Russell.
 
That’s all I can do.”

Kitty sighed.
 
“Okay.
 
But--Betty Jean--do you
really
think Thomas will want to raise Ash’s child?”

“A child’s not responsible for its parents.
 
And look, I know you think Thomas is a little abrasive, and he doesn’t think too highly of any white man, but he does love kids.
 
He won’t blame the baby for Ash being his father.
 
Now—we have to tell Mama and Daddy.”

Kitty couldn’t speak for a moment.
 
“I can’t,” she said in a hoarse whisper, “at least not yet, anyway.
 
I want to talk to Ash and Miss Joan about that place in 86.
 
I think Mama would be too ashamed to send me off to any of our own relatives.”

****

Ash hadn’t slept well; he’d tossed restlessly throughout most of the night.
 
Although exhausted, he forced himself from bed.
 
He needed to run.
 
After stretching, he started off with a slow jog.
 
Gradually, he increased his speed as the fresh air rejuvenated him.
 
Frustrated and angry, he decided to run twenty minutes longer than usual.

He didn’t want to see Kitty.
 
But by the time he’d completed his run and began jogging to the house, he saw her off in the distance, along with Betty Jean.
 
Both wore their pale blue uniforms and white shoes as they walked toward the mansion in his direction.

They held hands; and upon seeing him, Kitty stopped.
 
But Betty Jean pulled her along and forced her to keep walking.
 
Kitty needed her sister’s support, Ash observed, especially after what she’d done to him.
 
And there was no swing to her step.
 
Kitty’s strides seemed slower and more subdued this morning.
 
Thinking about the alluring walk that had once driven him mad, now made him want to throttle her.
 
His emotions churned wildly and irrationally as he thought that
s
he’d
seduced
him
—only to kill his child.

Ash saw Betty Jean whisper something to Kitty, before she dropped her hand and hurried to the back of the house.

Ash stopped jogging and began to walk.
 
It was a good thing Betty Jean left Kitty alone to confront him, Ash thought.
 
He didn’t want any witnesses present.
 
He’d never hurt Kitty, but considering his state of mind, he wasn’t sure what he’d say or do once he stood face to face with her.

Kitty waited as he stalked toward her.
 
Ash ripped off his tee shirt, then used it to wipe the sweat from his face and neck.
 
Breathing heavily he said, “So, are you happy now?”
 
Bitterness oozed from his voice like puss from an open wound.
 

At first Kitty said nothing.
 
Then, while looking deeply into his eyes, she said, “I couldn’t.”

Ash felt his face soften.
 
His anger diminished completely and he smiled.
 
“Kitty—deep down inside I wanted to believe—you couldn’t go through with it.
 
Yesterday--I tried so hard for you to see things my way—but I didn’t think you’d change your mind.”

Kitty was silent for a moment.
 
“I had to make up my own mind—and really think about what I was doing,” she said softly.

His eyes welled a little.
 
Ash almost reached to hug her, but then he restrained himself from doing that in public.

“I still haven’t told my parents.
 
For one thing, I want to learn more about what’s in 86.
 
But I don’t think I’ll have to deal with the adoption agency.
 
Betty Jean’s getting married right after she graduates, and she’s willing to raise the baby--if Thomas agrees to that.”

“Kitty,” Ash said, “this is so much better than what you wanted to do—isn’t it?”
 
She nodded.
 
“And I’ll provide all the monetary support that’s needed.
 
I’ll pay for college—law school—everything!”

“Law school?
 
You’re thinking ahead, aren’t you?”

“Or medical school!
 
Anything he wants!”

“He?
 
What if it’s a girl?”

“Anything she wants!
 
The sky’s the limit!”

Kitty exhaled.
 
“I’m dreading telling your mama.”

“I know, but we need to talk to her right after breakfast--the sooner, the better,” Ash said in a take-charge manner.

“I know.”
 
Kitty began to shake at the thought of facing Miss Joan, and then confronting her own parents. “Oh, Ash--I’d—I’d rather die that tell my mama and daddy, but—but I guess I’ll have to do that today, after I go home.”
 
The thought of telling them almost made her wish she’d gone through with the abortion.

****

Kitty held Ash’s hand as he led her to what felt like the lion’s den.
 
After the morning meal, Miss Joan sat in her small parlor off the living room paying bills.
 
Ash knocked lightly on the slightly parted pocket door.

Miss Joan looked up from her Queen Ann desk.
 
“Come in, Ash.”
 
She didn’t realize Kitty was with him until he slid the door open further.
 
“And Catherine.”
 
She smiled.
 
“Come in, dear.”
 
Ash dropped her hand before his mother saw him holding it.

“Mother, we need to talk to you about something.”

“Sit down.”
 
She motioned them to a pink satin sofa across from her.
 
“Is there—something wrong—in the kitchen?”

“No,” Ash said.
 
“We—uh—know someone—who’ll need to go to Miss Esther’s place.
 
I told Kitty you could make the arrangements.”