Chapter 18 #3
To this day, I have trouble watching game shows.
Now that most of those shows are televised, the camera loves to zero in on the faces of people having to make all-or-nothing decisions under the pressure of a ticking clock.
Some contestants laugh about it, but you can tell when people really need the money, or they have people they love who need it.
Those people don’t laugh. They look sick to their stomachs, like they already know they’ll regret what they’re about to say for the rest of their lives.
And with those game shows, that’s just money on the line.
“Can I have a day to think?” It took everything I had not to claw at my breasts in front of her.
“I don’t know that I’m thinking straight.
I didn’t sleep last night.” I heard the whininess in my voice and lowered it.
“This couple. Could you ask them to wait just one more day? If they’re nice as you say, I’ll think about it. I will.”
“No.” She stayed in the doorway. “I’m sorry. But I won’t make them dance on your string. You’ll just draw out their pain, and I don’t want any part of that. They deserve better, these people.”
“But there are other couples, right? These aren’t the only people in the world who want a baby. Other people will want her, even if I wait?”
“Sure. You’ll need to find another social worker to help you, though. I won’t trust you with another couple’s hopes and dreams. Or with my reputation. Once burned, twice shy. That’s me.”
“How do I find another agency?”
She shrugged. “The telephone directory? Call some doctors maybe. Or a minister. One of them might know of an interested couple. But you’ll need to be careful.
” She checked her watch. “You can’t expect the kind of background check I did—all the interviews and home visits.
You’ll be taking a risk. I’m sorry, Nora. I really do have to go.”
She was actually out of the room when I called to her again. She turned and held the door open. She kept one foot in the hall.
“Would they let me see her every now and then? And maybe send pictures? Just so I know…”
“It doesn’t work like that.” She spoke quietly.
“They don’t want to share the baby. No one normal is going to want that.
They want her to be their baby, and lovingly care for her as their own.
Come on now. What you’re suggesting might make you feel better, but it would be so confusing for the child.
You’re only thinking of what you want. Not what she needs.
I’m just so surprised at you, Nora. So surprised. ”
I looked at the far corner of the room, where Mae’s suitcase stood.
It was made of sturdy cardboard, blue with white stitching.
I’d been careful with it, but one of the silver buckles was already broken.
Inside were the two cardigans, the Florida coat, the maternity dress I’d worn to the hospital, some underwear, and a few shirts and skirts that might fit me again, or might not.
“They should have her,” I said. I was still looking at the suitcase. “Don’t call it off. I’m sorry, Miss Berry. I’m truly sorry. You can take her. I’m not thinking straight. I’ll sign.”
She stayed where she was. She told me she didn’t believe me. She was uncomfortable, she said, with my ambivalence. For all she knew, I would change my mind again. And I needed to be sure. Once the papers were signed, they were signed.
“My girls give me their babies,” she said.
“Gladly. Gratefully. I don’t take them, Nora.
I don’t like how you’re framing this. And I won’t risk the clerk getting all the way up here so you can change your mind again.
If you even seem unsure, he’ll get the wrong idea. I’ve got a reputation to think about.”
I could see why she wouldn’t believe me, why no one would. But I did mean to stop thinking of myself. I felt I couldn’t think at all.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Please?”
She shook her head. “I won’t dance on your string either. I like to try with you girls, and to be kind. But I won’t be made a fool twice.”
It took several minutes for me to convince her to come back in.
I had to beg her to take off her coat and sit down.
I didn’t hold any of this against her. I was thinking she was smarter than I was, for she understood that a person could lie while looking right at you, or change their minds, whatever they promised or said they felt.
When she did say she’d give me another chance, I was so grateful.
I thanked her more than once. I put the pink-and-white robe on over my ice-soaked gown and thanked her again.
When the clerk showed up, I looked him in the eye and answered his questions, ignoring the itch of my breasts and the ache in my head and the worry for all the worry to come, a lifetime of worry, the cord severed, the helium balloon already rising high without me.
Even when Miss Berry left the room and said she wanted to give us privacy, I signed where the clerk told me to sign. When he said it was permanent, that I couldn’t take it back, I said I understood. And when he asked me again, I told him yes sir, I was absolutely, positively sure.