Chapter 16 #2
“Or you were seventeen and you acted your age. No offense, but a lot of teenagers make dumb choices.”
“Speaking from experience?” Cindy’s voice was teasing.
Victoria grinned. “Very possibly.” Between being young and wanting to annoy her mother, she’d made dozens of questionable
decisions.
“I remember having to tell my dad,” Cindy said with a sigh. “The way he looked at me—he was so disappointed. We’d both been
excited about my future and all the possibilities. Giving up the baby meant I could still have it all.”
She looked at Victoria. “I was so scared to meet your parents. I’d already met another couple, and while they seemed nice, I wasn’t sure. Of course I had no idea what I was supposed to be looking for or feeling. It was hard, and I was young.”
Victoria couldn’t imagine what that had been like. “You didn’t get a list or something? ‘Five Ways to Pick the Perfect Parents
for Your Baby’?”
Cindy laughed. “I guess I should have gone online but I didn’t think about it. I didn’t have anyone to talk to. My dad was
going through some health issues, and none of my friends could relate. And then I met Ava. She was so kind. I liked that we
were closer in age. The other couple was well into their thirties, which to me seemed old. Ava was more like a sister.”
“She’d always known she couldn’t have children,” Victoria said. “So she and my dad would have started looking right away.
With other couples, they probably have to try for a while before they figure out there’s a problem.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” Cindy shrugged. “I knew from the first meeting that they were the ones. I was comfortable with them,
and I could tell they were so in love with each other. It’s nice that hasn’t changed.”
“Not at all. To this day, they’re nauseatingly in love with each other.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t,” Victoria admitted. “Not really. Having them in love is a real constant. When I was about eleven or twelve, I tried
playing them against each other, but it never worked. They’re a unit.”
“That’s nice. You had emotional security in your life. That’s important to a child.”
“I whine about my mom, but the truth is I had a pretty decent childhood,” Victoria admitted. “Since finding out about you
and Shannon, I’ve wondered what would have happened if you’d gone through with the adoption. My parents would have had her,
so they wouldn’t have been interested in the maid’s baby.”
She was proud of herself for getting out the sentences without her voice cracking, because on the inside, she was all about the pain of wondering.
Cindy stared at her. “I hadn’t thought about that, but you’re right. Your birth mother wouldn’t have gone to them. Do you
think she would have given you up to someone else?”
“She wasn’t going to keep me, so I guess.” Or maybe she would have left her at one of those safe haven places, or whatever
they were called. “Can’t you leave a newborn at a fire station?” She faked a smile. “If she’d done that, I would have made
the news, so that’s fun.”
“I’m sorry this hurts you,” Cindy said. “You know Ava and Milton love you very much.”
“Yes, I know that, too.” She also knew her How I Was Adopted story didn’t have the same feel as Shannon’s would have, if Cindy
had given her up.
She thought about mentioning the name thing but figured Cindy already knew. She would have been at the house, seen the mural
and the embroidered onesie.
There was an awkward moment of silence. Victoria struggled to think of something to say, then blurted, “So how’s the wedding
planning going?”
Instead of smiling, Cindy looked uncomfortable. “I booked the venue.”
“Is there a problem with it?”
“No, but it’s where we all ran into each other. Do you think that’s okay?”
“If it’s what you want. I’m not sure the fact that we all met there matters.”
“That’s what Shannon said, but I wasn’t sure. Still, the walled garden is so pretty, and I’ve always wanted a garden wedding.”
“Then you should have one.”
“What kind of wedding do you want?”
Victoria blinked at the question. “Excuse me?”
“You must have dreamed about your wedding. Every young girl does.”
“That’s not really my thing.” Her wedding? She couldn’t even date someone, let alone get to the boyfriend stage. A wedding?
“I’m not the marrying kind.”
“You might surprise yourself one day.”
Victoria doubted that but nodded as if she agreed, then realized that whatever she was looking for wasn’t here. Her pain wasn’t
anything Cindy could heal. Victoria was going to have to deal with it on her own.
She rose. “Thanks for talking to me. I thought we should get to know each other a little, and this has been nice.”
“Of course. Stop by any time.”
Victoria grinned. “Don’t say that. What if I believe you, and you can never get rid of me?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.”
She looked at Cindy. “You’re a good mom. Shannon’s lucky to have you in her life.”
“You’re sweet to say that.”
Cindy surprised her by stepping close and hugging her. When she stepped back, she added, “You’re strong, Victoria. Whatever
happens, you need to remember that.”
“I will.”
When she got to her car, she stowed her crutches, then slid into the driver’s seat. She was strong, she told herself. And independent and all kinds of other words. Lately it seemed she’d been forgetting that. Yes,
the hits kept on coming, but she could handle them. She was bigger than the pain, and it was time she started acting like
it.
Ava stood in the center of the nursery. In the past few days, she’d taken to coming in here when she got home from work.
The familiar space was somewhere she could feel safe and less alone.
She and Milton still weren’t getting along—words that didn’t describe the situation, but she didn’t know how else to explain it to herself.
He wasn’t angry. Not exactly. He was . .
. distant, she supposed. He went through the motions of living with her, but his mind and his heart were elsewhere.
She moved to the rocking chair and sat down. The feeling was so familiar, she thought, letting the pain wash through her.
She’d sat here for hundreds of hours, maybe more. At first while the artist had painstakingly painted the mural on the wall.
Ava had been quiet, so as not to disturb her, but she’d needed to see the vision being born. She’d watched leaf by leaf as
the masterpiece had come to life. Each day more tiny Victorias had been woven into every inch of the picture. She’d watched and imagined how it would feel when that precious baby was
placed in her arms for the first time.
Now she closed her eyes as she remembered her younger self and felt the same longing she’d experienced all those years ago.
How she’d ached for her daughter, had imagined her growing up. She remembered bringing Cindy to see the room and how the teenager
had burst into tears. At the time Ava had assumed it was simply pregnancy hormones, but looking back, she wondered if even
then Cindy had been having doubts and if the tears had been because she knew she couldn’t possibly give away her baby.
Ava supposed she would never have all the answers she wanted. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if they mattered anymore. She’d hurt
Victoria, which had never been anything she wanted, but of course her daughter’s pain made sense. Ava had been thoughtless—not
realizing that Victoria and Shannon might talk and that of course finding out about the name would be yet one more blow.
At the same time, Ava felt trapped in the past. Shannon was so different from how Ava had imagined her, yet looked so much like Cindy.
Personalitywise, she didn’t think they were that much alike, and Shannon was certainly struggling to find herself.
Knowing that, Ava wanted to step in and help.
She’d been wrestling with that for days, knowing that Milton might not see the action for what it was—a simple moment of kindness.
But given where they were, there was every chance he wouldn’t understand.
“There you are.”
She looked up and saw him standing in the door. Immediately she stood, telling herself she had no reason to feel guilty and
yet she did.
“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I lost track of time. I’ll start dinner right away.”
He stayed where he was, blocking her way. “You’ve been spending more time in here than usual.”
Given that until recently she’d rarely entered the room, she nodded. “The past seems so close these days.” She risked looking
at him, braced for anger or derision, but only saw the man she’d loved since the day she’d met him.
Was he going to forgive her? Could she hope they could find their way back to each other?
“You think I should move on,” she said, knowing she had to tell him the truth. “I have in some ways, but I guess I haven’t
in others.” She motioned to the mural. “I know you want me to paint that over.”
His expression turned sad. “I want you to be happy.”
“I am. It’s just confusing right now. I was wrong about the memory box. I shouldn’t have shown it to Shannon. It’s just she
was going to be ours, and knowing that still has the power to hurt me. I wanted to connect with her, if only for a moment.”
He sighed. “I know you meant well.”
“She’s a photographer. It’s her passion. There’s a weekend seminar I’d like to get her into so she can explore possibilities.
But I won’t do it if you tell me not to.”
His shoulders slumped. “You’ve never asked my permission before.”
“You’ve never been angry at me before. Not like you are now.”
“Ava.”
He crossed to her and pulled her close. The feel of his arms around her, the familiar warmth and the steady beating of his
heart, shattered her control, and she began to cry.
“Shhh,” he murmured. “It’s all right. I’m here.”
“You weren’t.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right, I was angry. But I’m not anymore.”
She drew back and looked at him. “Are you just saying that?”
“No.” His gaze was steady. “I’m telling the truth. I can’t be without you. At the risk of using a cliché, you’re my world.
You always have been. I need you and I love you.”
“But?”
“No buts. No limitations, no conditions. I’m nothing without you. I barely exist. Victoria’s doing better. Her strength reminds me
of yours.” He touched her cheek. “You help people, Ava. You always have. Get Shannon into the seminar if you want.”
She thought he might add something about making sure she didn’t hurt their daughter again, but he only hugged her, holding
on so tight she knew he would never let go. And that was exactly how she wanted things to be.