The Old Cape House (24 page)

I kept a smile on my face, gently holding my stomach. How
lucky I am to have such a wonderful family.

Present Day – July 19 & 20

BREWSTER – CAPE COD

PAUL WAS ALWAYS THE FIRST ONE UP,
and today was no different. As I walked into the kitchen, I watched him slip the daily paper out of its protective plastic bag. As he was unfolding it, something at the bottom of the front page immediately caught his eye. He looked stunned. “Oh my God!” He sat down to read more.

“What’s the matter?” I stood next to him as he slid the paper between us. I reached for my glasses, then zeroed in on the article, illustrated with photographs of our back yard and the exposed cellar. The article’s headline read,
‘Brewster Couple Digs in Backyard,
Solves Mystery.’
The subheading shouted:
‘Evidence may prove
existence of Maria Hallett!’

I glared at Paul, disgusted by this blatant breach of trust.
“McNutt
promised he was not going to reveal the location, and he even
published
photographs of our home! I can’t believe it. No mention of our
names, thank goodness, but he does state that we just moved in.”

Paul stood to refill his cup with more coffee. “I hope nothing bad comes from this whole thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I get a funny feeling about it.”

“Maybe it’ll be good for business, you know, bring more people into the gallery?” I took off my glasses. “Did you make some decaf?”

“Yeah,” Paul said rereading the article.

The kids wandered into the kitchen one by one and all read the news, except Molly, who just pointed to the picture. “Is that the hole in our backyard?”

“Yes it is,” I said.

“Cool.” Molly took her seat at the table to wait for cereal.

Casey, who had the day off work, poured herself some juice then went back to her bedroom to sleep. A few minutes later, the boys left for their summer jobs. At 9 am the phone rang.

“Hello, The Caldwell Gallery,” I answered.

There was nothing but silence on the other end.

“Hello?” I repeated. The line went dead. “That was strange.”

Paul looked serious. “Here we go! I knew there would be trouble.”

“It’s probably just a wrong number. Sometimes the name of a business throws people off, and they just hang up.”

“I hope so.” Paul left for his studio to begin his day.

 I looked at Molly, still eating her Cheerios. “Are you almost done?”

“Yup.” She drank the last of the milk in her bowl and jumped up. “I’m going to see what Casey’s doing, okay?”

“Fine, I’ll be in the shower.”

***

Paul hung the gallery OPEN sign at 11 am, right on time, just as
a car pulled into the driveway. I watched through the kitchen
window, my decaf in hand, as a casually dressed man got out of his car and entered the gallery behind Paul.

I heard talking, then the man returned to his car as if to leave, but he hesitated and looked around for a few minutes. He walked a
little closer to the garage and peered down the hill into our
backyard. Without another word to Paul, he got into his car and drove away.

I quickly dressed and joined Paul in the studio. “Who was that?”

“Just some strange guy snooping around.”

“Yeah, I saw him checking out the backyard. It’s probably nothing.”

Paul grabbed a few tubes of watercolor to add to his palette. “Nancy? Don’t forget to call the paper about that reporter. Tell them we’re not happy with the article.”

“Okay. I need some breakfast first.” I left Paul to his painting.

I found the orange juice carton empty. “Crap,” I sighed. A check in the freezer for a spare can of juice also led to nothing. The grocery store was the last place I wanted to go to today. I hated the crowded supermarket in the summer–too many tourists.

After scanning the pantry and food shelves for items to add to my shopping list, I called up the stairs, “Anyone want to go to the store with me?”

“We’re busy,” Casey called back.

Molly added, “Yeah, we’re real busy.”

“Okay, see you in about an hour.”

***

I entered the Super Shopper only to be hit with a blast of cold air from the air-conditioning. It made me shiver. It was easy to spot the tourists. They were the shoppers wearing flip-flops and wet bathing suits hidden under terry cloth covers, pushing their shopping carts aimlessly up and down the food aisles, as if in a trance. I overheard their conversations as I passed them in the aisles.

 “We only need three ears of corn but plenty of ice cream, Mom!”

“Do you want to eat out, or should we have a BBQ tonight?”

“…but the refrigerator won’t hold all of the food. We better get more ice.”

I smiled to myself and remembered when I was a tourist, and
having the same discussions with the family before we moved permanently to the Cape.

Rounding the corner to the baking section, I noticed an elderly woman struggling to reach for a can of baking soda high on the shelf in front of her.

A short, stocky man let go of the cart handle. “Let me get it, Momma.”

“Why thank you, honey,” she replied.

I stepped to one side to make room for them to pass me. They both smiled at each other as the son resumed pushing the cart for his mom. I could tell from the young man’s facial features that he was born with Down’s Syndrome. I felt frozen. Placing my hand on my stomach I wondered if my baby could have Downs Syndrome too. What was I going to do? I wanted to go home.

I wandered through the aisles, my mind far away from my
shopping list. How would I care for this child as I grew older?
Would I have enough patience and strength to raise a special needs child?

I paid for the groceries and hoped I hadn’t forgotten anything. I really just wanted to get home. After loading my bags into the car, I shut the car door and broke down in tears. It was a godsend that the van had tinted windows and no one could see me sobbing.

Taking the highway home, I prayed to my mom, as tears streamed down my face.
Please help me. I don’t know what to do!

***

Paul didn’t notice me pull into the driveway, so I carried the
groceries into the house by myself. I put them away as fast as I
could, anxious to be alone. I needed to lie down. I grabbed a cold washcloth for my eyes and headed for the bedroom, repeating over and over in my head that everything would be fine.

After a few minutes, I went into the kitchen. It was getting close to dinnertime, but I couldn’t decide what to cook. A simple meal of hot dogs, chips and fruit sounded perfect. It was everyone’s favorite and easy to prepare.

Paul came in from the gallery. Right away, he noticed my red eyes and knew something was wrong. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s a long story,” I mumbled. “Just something I saw in the supermarket.”

“What was it?” He gave me a hug.

“I saw a woman–she must have been in her late seventies,
shopping
with her son. He had Downs Syndrome.” I put my head on his
shoulder and began to cry all over again.

“Come on, Nancy. You’re the one who’s always positive,” Paul said, holding me tighter.

“I know, I know.”

“Why don’t you go and lie down? I’ll start the grill, the kids and I can handle supper.”

“Are you sure?” He’s such a good man, I thought, I don’t know what I’d do without him.

“Go on. Everything will be okay.” He kissed me on the forehead, turned me around and pushed me toward the front parlor. “Get in there and relax.”

I lay on the couch under the open porch window listening to the kids eating at the picnic table. They asked Paul what was wrong with me. “Mom’s just worried about the baby,” he explained.

I started to cry again. How could I ask the children to take on the responsibility for their new brother or sister if Paul and I weren’t around, or were just too old to cope? I rolled over and faced the back
of the couch with tears wetting my cheeks. I just can’t do that to
them.

“Mommy? I have something for you.”

I turned over, sat up and wiped my eyes. “What is it, honey?”

Molly handed me a piece of paper. “This is for you. I’m happy we’re going to have a new baby.”

She’d drawn a picture of two stick figures standing under a tree. Molly had cut out a picture of her own face and glued it to the circle that represented her head. The little figure next to her had a question
mark on its body, but its face had a big smile. The word
‘Congratulations’ was scrawled across the top.

“Oh, Molly, it’s beautiful.” I felt new tears again, tears of joy.

“Casey helped me. It was a secret; we did it when you went to
the
store.” She beamed with pride and gave me a big hug and a ketchup
kiss.

Casey, Brian and Jim joined us in the parlor. They lined up in
front of the bay windows and stared at me. I felt embarrassed that my kids knew their mother was bawling on the couch.

Jim, the oldest, stepped forward. “Don’t ever think of not having
this baby, Mom. We’ll be there, when the time comes, if we’re
needed.”

Casey and Brian both nodded their heads in agreement.

Paul sat down next to me and took my hand in his. “We’re a family. We’ll get through this together.”

“Okay,” I tried to smile as I wiped my tears away.

***

I took my time cleaning up the kitchen, assuring everyone I’d feel better working quietly by myself. Through the window I saw rain clouds begin to roll in, making the sky darker than usual for the
summer hour of 7 pm. I stood in the kitchen door to inhale the
promise of a salty rain, fresh off the ocean.

As the rain splashed onto the skylights throughout the house, I busied myself with the laundry, straightening up, and thinking. I remembered how angry I’d felt with the doctor for suggesting an abortion, but here I was, actually contemplating the very idea that I despised. Was I being selfish for thinking the choice was really mine
and mine alone? Wasn’t it up to me to go forward with this
pregnancy, or terminate it?

At 10 pm, I went to bed utterly confused. Paul stayed up to wait for Jim and Brian to come home. Sleep didn’t come easily for me. I prayed to my mom again.
I miss you, Mom. I can’t believe it’s already been a whole year since you’ve been gone. I really need your help.

I prayed to my father. I prayed to all those who had passed
away: my sister, my aunts, my uncles and grandparents, asking
every one of them to help me find the right answers. Finally, I begged God for guidance.

Blocking all of my thoughts, I forced myself to recall the
meditation techniques that had helped me with the birth of Molly. Minutes later, I fell asleep.

 July 20

Morning brought its usual chaos to the Caldwell household. I sat
up and dangled my feet over the side of the bed, my mind still
swirling about the decision I’d have to make about the baby. I stretched my arms up and my legs out straight. I felt a little hopeful.

Wrapping a towel around my hair, I stepped onto the white tile of the glass shower enclosure and into my daily routine of bathing. The normalcy was comforting; the shower soothing. I closed my eyes and thought of the baby while water splashed over my naked body. I could hear a little voice inside my head telling me it’s okay and the
baby will be fine. I closed my eyes tighter so I could hear it. The
voice reminded me that God would give me the strength to take care of whatever comes my way. I stood motionless in the pulsating water, listening again to the words that repeated in my head. The harder I listened the louder they became.

I suddenly felt relief wash over me, filling my whole body with a deep sense of peace. I don’t know if it was my mom or God talking to me. It didn’t matter. I decided right then and there that I would
have this baby, no matter what the test results showed. I felt
supported and knew I would find whatever was needed to raise this child.

I got dressed feeling calmer and stronger than I had felt in days. I hurried into the kitchen “Good morning! It’s a wonderful day; the sun is shining and I’m going to have a baby!”

Molly raised her spoon in the air. ”Hooray!”

December 1715

EASTHAM – CAPE COD

THE MCKEON HOUSE HAD ONE LARGE ROOM
with a hearth and chimney in the middle that warmed both sides of the house. Two small windows in the front and back walls gave Maria a limited
view of the outside. Weathered from neglect, holes of daylight
pierced
the crumbling walls and rotted roof. Maria stuffed pine boughs,
needles and oak leaves into as many openings as she could to stop the flow of cold air.

By the second day of her arrival, she was finally able to bring
forth a fire to cook with and warm herself. Maria was not a stranger to
stretching food when there was little to be had. Living with her
father was dreadful, but she’d learned many lessons that could now help her to survive this cruel banishment.

Her furniture consisted of the bed frame to the left of the center chimney, one chair and the small table in the kitchen. The torn and dirty bed covers that had been left in the abandoned house were used as her mattress, and the sole blanket was her cover. She slept in
the clothes that she worked in. With youth on her side, Maria
managed to make her situation bearable. She gathered water from melting snow on the hearth. Come springtime, she’d hunt for the well that she knew was somewhere beneath the frozen earth.