Chapter 22 Adelaide #2
Unless . . . maybe Joe’s family would take me under their protection, and treat me as his widow.
Maybe they’d help me care for his child, at least until I could get on my feet and support us both.
If they backed me for just a little while, I could emerge from this as a respectable woman. “I’ll call his aunt,” I decided.
I got the number from Carl. It took me two days to work up the courage, and another one to find the right time when Lucille was out of the house.
My hand shook as I picked up the phone and asked the operator to connect me. “Mrs. Madison, you don’t know me, but I’m Adelaide LeDoux, and I was Joe’s fiancée.”
“Joe didn’t have a fiancée.”
“Yes, he did. You can check with his buddy Carl. We got engaged right before he left. And . . . and it turns out that I’m . . . well, I’m pregnant.”
I heard a deep gasp on the other end of the line, then silence for such a long moment that I thought the connection had dropped.
“Hello?” I said.
“Young woman, I don’t know who you are, but you are not going to work a scam on this family, do you hear me?
” The voice was an angry, vitriolic, wavering hiss, scarier than anything I’d ever heard.
“We are in the deepest grief, and if you think you can use this opportunity to further yourself by sullying Joe’s name . . .”
“No! You don’t understand. I don’t want money! Not . . . not for myself anyway. I . . .”
“The hell, you say!” Her voice rose in both pitch and volume. “So what do you want? To drop your bastard on our doorstep?”
“No! I loved Joe, and . . .”
“How dare you!” she spit. “You leave us alone. We’re decent people. My brother-in-law is in law enforcement, and I’ll have you arrested if I get another call from you or if you dare show your face here. Have I made myself clear?”
I hung up, my hand shaking, and turned to Marge. “She—she said . . .”
“I could hear her, the loud old witch.”
“Oh, Marge.” Tears brimmed in my eyes.
She hugged me, then pulled back and looked at me, her brow creased. “Are you okay? You look pale as a ghost.”
I felt weak and nauseous. “I’m—I’m going upstairs to lie down.”
I lay on the bed and sobbed, feeling more alone than I’d ever felt in my life.
I was still in bed when the doorbell rang some time later.
Marge went and answered. I heard a familiar voice—Charlie’s voice.
Oh, dear Lord. I pulled the pillow over my head.
This was the night we were supposed to have dinner together!
In all of the chaos, I’d completely forgotten.
Oh, I couldn’t, I absolutely couldn’t deal with him now.
I thought that Marge was sending him away, because she stayed downstairs a long time, but then I heard footsteps on the stairs. I kept my face turned to the wall as the door creaked open. “I can’t see him,” I said. “Tell him to go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I rolled over to see Charlie standing by the bed, his lips pressed tight, his eyes red.
“Charlie—I, uh—I’m not feeling well. I’m sorry, but I can’t . . .”
“Marge told me everything.”
“Everything?” I echoed blankly.
He nodded, his mouth pinched. “About the . . . the pilot. And the baby.”
Shame, fear, grief—it formed a cannonball in my gut. I buried my face in the pillow and sobbed.
He sat down beside me and put his hand on my back. The sympathy and forgiveness in that simple gesture unleashed all my emotional self-control. This was Charlie, my childhood friend, and I needed a friend in the worst way. I raised up, hugged him, and sobbed.
“Marry me, Addie,” he murmured.
I stared at him through tear-blurred eyes, at first not comprehending. “I—I can’t. I thought Marge told you . . .”
“She did, and yes, you can. You need to. I’ll give you and the baby a home.”
“But . . .”
“But, nothing. Everyone will think the baby is mine.”
“But . . .”
“That’s all I ask, Addie. Let everyone think the baby is mine. I’ll raise it as my own and we’ll be a family. We’ll put this behind us and everything will be all right.”
“But Charlie—that’s not fair to you.”
“Addie, all I’ve ever wanted is you. This way I get you. And the baby gets a home.”
And I got to keep the baby, and raise it. I got to keep a piece of Joe alive.
“We need to do it as soon as possible,” he said. “Tomorrow. We’ll tell our folks afterward that we eloped.”
It was too soon. How could I marry someone else when I was so deeply grieving Joe?
He sensed my hesitation and spoke before I could even voice it. “If we wait any longer, Addie, your pregnancy will start to show, and people will whisper. We don’t have time to let our mothers plan a wedding.”
He was right. If we were going to do this convincingly, we had to do it right away.
“It’s a wonderful solution,” Marge said.
I looked up to see her standing at the end of my bed. I hadn’t even realized she’d come into the room.
It was the only solution, as far as I could tell. The only solution that would let me keep my baby without subjecting it to a life of shame.
I took the tissue Marge handed me, wiped my eyes, and looked at Charlie. “You’re so kind, Charlie. You’re such a good man. You deserve someone who will love you better than I can.”
“I’ll love you enough for both of us.”
Oh, God, I prayed he was right. I drew a ragged breath and said the words I’d been so sure I’d never say. “All right, then, Charlie. All right. If you’re sure you want to, I’ll marry you.”