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‘You’re both such victims,’ Stacy bursts out. Out of the corner of my eye I see Amy look up, eyes narrowing as she strains to listen. ‘Everything bad happens to you because you let it. I’m not trying to be harsh, but you’ve got to help yourselves. Kevin needs to work. He should have gone back to work years ago, Heather. And you could retrain, get your high school diploma, whatever. You just stand in the road and let yourselves be run over by life, and I’m telling you, it doesn’t have to be that way.’
For a second I can’t speak, I’m so angry. I’m a victim? Me, who has been holding this family together for three years, clinging by my fingernail
s, a breath away from losing my grip, falling forever? Stacy has no idea.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says quietly, and I know she means it, that she regrets being so harsh, but it’s not enough. I turn away from her, focus on our dinner. That flicker of contentment I felt? I can’t even remember what it feels like now.
Later, after Stacy has left and we’ve eaten dinner, I am cleaning up in the kitchen and Kevin comes in, moving slowly, a shuffling step I’ve got used to over the last three years.
‘You told Stacy.’
I glance toward the living room, but the girls are all in the tub. Kevin is supposed to be washing their hair and keeping an eye on Lucy.
‘She noticed. It’s getting obvious.’
‘I mean about this whole adoption thing.’
‘Yes.’
Kevin is silent and I scrub at a scorch mark on the pan. I can hear the girls splashing and laughing, and I picture all three of them crammed in our little olive-green tub, knees up by their elbows, blonde hair piled on top of their heads. Three little soapy angels.
‘So you’re really doing this.’
‘We’re doing it. You signed the paperwork, Kevin.’ I glance at him, trying not to look as accusing as I feel. As desperate. I want just one person in my life to give me a hug and say, ‘You know what? I get it. I understand why you’re doing this. I know how hard it must be, that it’s tearing you apart, but it will be okay eventually. I promise.’ But there’s no one. Not Kevin, not Stacy, not even Tina, who must see this situation ten times a day, and not my neighbors and friends when they find out.
I’m alone in this, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Maybe I am standing in the middle of the road like Stacy said, but I’m too tired to move. Does she know how that feels? To have everything ache all the time, so even the basics of life – cooking, laundry, loving my girls – feels like it sucks all my energy, all my being, down into a dark hole and there’s no way to climb out?
It feels like no one knows how alone I feel, and then I think of Grace. I remember the pain that flashed across her face as she told me about her dad, the lack of friends or family, her loneliness. A sudden wave of empathy washes over me. She really is alone, even more than I am.
From the bathroom someone screeches, and I tense, but then they erupt into laughter.
‘You’re right,’ Kevin says quietly. ‘We’re doing this. Together.’ He reaches for my hand and I twine my fingers through his. We stay that way silently, hands linked, as close as we’ve been in a long time, and the pressure building in my chest eases. I may feel alone, but I’m not. Not like Grace.
Six
GRACE
When Tina called to invite me to attend Heather’s ultrasound with her, I felt a ripple of pleasure, a dart of alarm. It felt like an invasion of Heather’s privacy, and I wasn’t sure what role I’d have there, but I wanted to see some concrete evidence of this baby. My child.
I still couldn’t quite believe Heather had decided to go with me after all. I’d thought I’d botched that whole first meeting, seeming prissy and business-like because I was so nervous. And then that surreal confrontation in the street, both of us laying our cards down right there. It felt good, a chance to reveal something I knew I couldn’t hide forever. And Heather’s admission about why she chose me didn’t faze me, not after I’d thought about it. She was being honest too, and it felt as if we’d found equal terms, ones we could both live with.
And so now we’re going ahead, signing more forms, making it real. Tina asked me to cover the maternity costs plus some basic living expenses, which I was more than happy to do. Money is easy.
I arranged to have two hundred dollars a week put into Heather’s account, which seemed like little enough but Tina was strict about the whole financial side of things. There were rules about that, formulas to follow, spreadsheets to fill out. No one should be buying a baby. If only it were that simple.
I rent a car to drive to the hospital in New Jersey where Heather is having the ultrasound. As I’m stepping out of my apartment, already running five minutes late, my neighbor opens her door. I brace myself for the usual opening gambit of bright questions. At least I know her name now – Eileen. At least I think it is. It was hard to make out the writing on the Christmas card she slid under my door.
‘Hello,’ she says cheerfully. ‘Going somewhere nice?’
‘Not particularly.’ That feels a bit rude so I temper it with a smile as I press the button for the elevator. ‘How about you?’ I don’t feel quite confident enough to call her Eileen.
‘Oh no, dear, not with my eyesight.’ She shakes her head ruefully. ‘Can’t go much anywhere these days.’
Surprise jolts through me; I hadn’t realized her eyesight was that bad, but then why would I? I know nothing about her or her husband, who I realize I haven’t seen in a while. I can’t think of what to say and then the elevator door opens and I step inside. My neighbor is still standing there watching me and I blurt suddenly, ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not actually sure of your name. Is it… is it Eileen?’ I give an embarrassed laugh.
She smiles, wide and easy. ‘Yes, and you’re Grace.’
The doors of the elevator close with her still smiling. I feel a twinge of both guilt and regret that I’ve been so indifferent, so focused on other things. I’m going to be better about that kind of thing from now on. Now that I’m going to be a mother.
