Читать книгу Our Fragile Hearts - Buffy Andrews - Страница 14

Chapter 4

Mary

The cleaning agency called to tell me they were sending someone the next day. They didn’t tell me much, other than that she was twenty-two and very thorough. I finished reading the paper and then called the florist to have flowers delivered to June’s funeral. She’d moved to Arizona shortly after my parents sent me away and the service and burial were there.

She still had relatives living in the area, which I guess is why the local newspaper carried her obituary. I didn’t plan on attending the service, but I thought a basket of flowers would be a nice gesture.

I showered and made it to my doctor’s appointment with five minutes to spare.

The nurse opened the door to the waiting room. “Mrs. McAlaster?”

I stood and followed her down the hall.

“You’re in room seven today. Do you think you could give me a urine sample?”

I nodded.

She pointed to the bathroom. “There are cups in there. Just leave the cup on the sink when you’re done and I’ll get it. Then go into the room and put on the gown. I’ll be right in to go over your family history.”

By the time I’d undressed and put on the soft pink cover-up that snapped in the front the nurse was knocking on the door.

“Come in,” I said.

“How have you been feeling, Mary?”

“Can’t complain. Little aches and pains here and there, but that’s to be expected for my age.”

The nurse proceeded to go over my family history. Ovarian cancer?

“No.”

“Breast cancer on your mother’s side?”

“Yes.”

“And you had one breast biopsy but that was, let’s see…” She scrolled up the laptop screen. “In 1997. And since then your mammograms have been normal.”

“That’s correct. The 1997 biopsy showed no sign of cancer. I had calcifications but was told they were nothing to worry about.”

She proceeded to go over my history. “And you’ve never been pregnant, correct? No miscarriages or abortions?”

I’ve always said no to this question, but something made me want to say yes. What did it matter now? Hadn’t I kept this secret long enough? Besides, Mother and Father and James were long gone. I kept the secret because they’d asked me to. They’d always been so worried about what other people would think. And I’d kept their secret, too. Again, because they’d asked me to. But the world had changed in the last fifty years. Nowadays women had children out of wedlock and men and women had same-sex partners and some of them had children, either biological or adopted. Sometimes, I wondered what it would’ve been like had I been born twenty years later.

I never had the chance to tell Teddy I was carrying his child. Mother found me throwing up one morning and cornered me in the bathroom. Teddy was on vacation with his family and by the time he’d returned my parents had sent me away. But sometimes I wondered what would’ve happened if Mother hadn’t found me and I had been able to tell Teddy. Would my life have turned out differently?

“Mary?” the nurse asked.

“Yes.”

She looked out over her glasses. “Yes, you’ve never been pregnant?”

“That’s correct,” I said, knowing that even now I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone the truth. The ghosts of Mother and Father and James still haunted me and I guess they would forever.

I suppose never having children is one of the reasons why I’ve done so much to help them now. I think about my daughter. What became of her? Did she grow up and become a mother? Was I a grandmother and didn’t know it? Did she ever try to find me? I’d thought about finding her a time or two, but gave up. I reasoned that not knowing anything about her might be better than learning something terrible. I had enough terrible in my life.

My doctor’s office was located next to the hospital. I’d often go over when I was out this way to look at the babies in the nursery.

I followed an older man into the elevator. “Third floor, please.”

He smiled. “That’s where they keep the babies, right?”

I nodded.

“Are you one of those grandma rockers?”

He must have noticed the puzzled look on my face. “You know, those older women who volunteer to cuddle the sick babies?”

I shook my head. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I’d plan to find out.

I walked down the hall painted a creamy yellow and turned the corner. I wasn’t the only one visiting babies today. There were four others with their noses smashed against the glass wall. I walked over and peeked through the glass. There were seven babies lined up in two straight rows. The boys had blue caps on their heads and the girls wore pink.

“Aren’t they just darling?” a woman in a wheelchair said.

“Very.”

“Is one of them your grandchild?” she asked.

“No. I just came to visit. How about you?”

She shook her head. “Our grandson is in the neonatal intensive care unit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

She held up her finger as if she were about to lecture me. “But he’s a fighter. He’s getting stronger every day. He was just born a little too soon.”

The woman wheeled away and I went back to watching through the window. Their hands were so tiny and they all had such cute little bow lips. It still amazed me that something so beautiful had come out of me but I never got to see her. Oh, how I would’ve loved to hold my daughter’s tiny hand in mine. To cuddle and kiss her to pieces. A tear slid down my cheek. I turned and saw a nurse headed in my direction.

“Can I ask you something?”

She stopped.

“How do you go about volunteering to cuddle the sick babies?”

She smiled. “Follow me and I’ll get you some information on it.”

So I did just that.