Chapter 17 #2
But the worry for the baby didn’t go away.
It seemed like the nurses were keeping something from me.
And then I started thinking about Leonard, and how he probably didn’t even know his child had been born, and if he did, he might not care.
It still seemed unbelievable to me that he could have turned so cold and uncaring.
I’d start to think there must be a misunderstanding, then I would realize I was being stupid and naive.
It felt like I was making myself stand up just so I could knock myself down again, and I hit the ground hard every time.
I’d always thought of myself as having a sense about things, a way of knowing in my heart what I couldn’t know in my mind.
But in the hospital, especially, I only knew I didn’t understand anything.
I made myself try to read, if only to remind myself of Jane Eyre and all those girls starving and dying in Lowood, and that things could always be worse.
Later, I would remember this—how even when I was so unhappy and angry and worried, I kept reminding myself that my anguish and confusion couldn’t compete with hunger and cold, and the terror of death all around. I was just trying to put my own problems in perspective.
But given what I know now, I wonder if, deep down, some part of me sensed the truth after all.
—
I woke the next morning to find Miss Berry sitting in a folding chair by my bed, reading the newspaper.
She wore a maroon skirt and jacket, and she had a brooch shaped like a snowflake pinned to the jacket’s collar.
A leather briefcase, the kind a man would carry, leaned against the wall beside her.
When she looked up and saw me watching her, she startled a little, then smiled. “Well, good morning to you!” she said. “How are you feeling?”
I told her that I was achy and sore, and also worried about the baby.
She looked at me like she didn’t know what baby I was talking about.
She really did. I had to calm myself before I clarified.
I could smell her perfume, that light pretty scent she always wore, and I knew that if I was about to learn the porcupine was dead or even gravely injured, I would hate this smell for the rest of my life.
“Oh, Nora, she’s fine.” She reached out and touched my arm. “I saw her myself just now. Perfectly healthy. Just resting. You don’t have to worry.”
“Thank you,” I said. “But I want to see her. I want to see her myself.”
I could see she was hurt. She’d just told me the baby was fine, that she herself had just seen her. She took a breath and straightened her shoulders.
“Well, as your advocate, and someone who cares about you, I have to remind you that we talked about this. You and I made a plan. You knew then, when you were thinking clearly, what would be best for you.”
“I didn’t know I’d be so worried,” I said. “If you let me see her, I’ll know she’s okay, and I won’t worry anymore. I’ll just see her that one time. That’s all I want.”
She looked at me for several seconds. I tried to look trustworthy. I believed I was, though my file likely suggested otherwise.
“It’s up to you,” she said. “It’s always been up to you, whether you see the baby or not.
I’ll go by maternity on my way out, and I’ll tell them to bring her down.
” She glanced at her watch. “But first I need to go over what’s next.
There are a few things we need to discuss, and I’ve only got so much time. ”
Her smile returned as she talked. She said it used to be that she’d have to take a girl to the courthouse to sign the adoption papers, but now she had someone from the courthouse who would bring the papers right to my room.
He’d arrive with the papers the following morning, at nine o’clock.
She would be there, too, to answer any questions, and she’d come early and help me get presentable.
“You don’t need to worry about your hair or anything like that,” she said. “He does this all the time. We’ll just make sure you’re decent.”
She said that after I signed the papers, I could stay in the hospital for another week, and have nurses at my beck and call.
The hospital would call her to schedule my discharge, and she’d pick me up and take me to the train station.
She’d give me money to spend in the dining car, and she’d be happy to take me out to a restaurant if there was time.
“I’ve already gotten you a ticket to Florida,” she said.
“But of course you don’t want to go home just yet.
Most girls need at least a few weeks to get their figures back, and to feel ready to go home.
So this is the part I think you’ll like.
” She leaned back in her chair, and the dimple appeared.
“I worked out a place for you to recover in private near Cocoa Beach. A widow there manages a thrift store, and she sometimes offers a room and meals in her home to girls who need temporary lodging. It won’t cost your family anything.
You just need to help her in the store. She knows you have your schoolwork to do, and she said you could do that in the mornings, and then work at the store in the afternoon.
I’ve spent a lot of time corresponding with her, and she is an absolute dear. ”
“Okay.” I wondered how long I’d be wearing the diaper. Miss Berry looked so refined and contained in her skirt and jacket. I still felt swollen and unsightly, like a different species entirely.
“She said you’ll stay in the back room of the store, you know, sorting through donations and getting things presentable for customers.
I imagine you could hold back some cute things for yourself.
Think how good it will feel to be slender again, and to try on a pretty dress with a real waist. Your stepmother said you don’t know anyone in Cocoa Beach. That’s correct?”
I told her I didn’t.
“Then it’s perfect. I mean, you’ll still want to keep a low profile.
You won’t see anyone in the store’s back room, but Mrs. Clark, that’s the widow, said she’d be happy to take you to the beach on weekends.
If you do happen to bump into someone you know, it wouldn’t be a catastrophe.
You could just say you’re on a vacation, maybe with your stepmother’s mother, the one people think you’re caring for. ”