Impossible (21 page)

But Lucy was shaking her head.

"Luce," Zach said. "Luce. Don't give up. Look at me."

Lucy looked.

"We're close," Zach said. "Don't you see? We just need the land. And I will find it. I promise. Believe me."

Lucy's eyes were clear, if a little overbright. "I do. I believe. And I won't give up. I haven't."

"Good. Then—"

"I need to talk about something else for a minute. I want to talk about failure. Suppose it doesn't work out for you and me. Just suppose."

"Failure is not an option. You said you weren't giving up. And you just had this great idea about the sand mix for the corn—"

"I just want to discuss this. For a minute. It's not giving up. It's not failure. It's discussion about failure."

Zach was not happy. "Okay. If you need to."

"Thank you," Lucy said. "I do. All right. Suppose it doesn't work out for me. Suppose we fail. What happens next would be this. You and the baby and your parents and mine just go on with your lives. I go off like Miranda. I'm insane."

"No, that's not what's going to—"

"Please. Hear me out. Back when you asked me to marry you, you said that it was all about the baby. Well, you were right, then and now. And what I've realized is that no matter what, she'll have something that I didn't have, and that Miranda didn't have. And that's you. A father. You have all this knowledge now about the curse. And that means that she'll have it, as her birthright."

Zach had his teeth gritted. But he was listening.

Lucy continued. "That means she won't have just a few weeks in which to figure the puzzle out. She'll have eighteen years, with you and my parents and your parents around to help. Hey, maybe she could be making the shirt when she's eight, and buying the land when she's nine, and as my gift to her, we now know exactly how she can sow the land with the corn. And you'd save the goats' horns. Or buy more. All this means that, no matter what happens to me, we're going to save her. Or rather, you are, Zach. So that's a given."

He opened his mouth to speak, but Lucy stopped him with a hand to his lips.

"I'm not going to stop fighting," she said with great tenderness. "There's no giving up. Believe me, I'm not ready to lose you or our life together. It's just that, right now, I want to hear you promise me that if we do run out of time and I go mad, like Miranda, it ends with me. The curse ends here, because our baby will be safe. You will make that happen. Isn't that so?"

It took him a minute. "Yes," he said finally. "It's so. Although, if we're just going to talk about the baby, I can think of an easier way to save her."

"Oh? What?"

"I'd just lock her up from her sixteenth birthday on."

Lucy didn't laugh. "Don't think I haven't thought of that too, love. But here's the thing. The parents try that in all the fairy tales. It never works."

CHAPTER 49

Three weeks before her baby's due date, Lucy went to the hospital for a checkup with her doctor. "All's well," said Dr. Whang, smiling. "She's doing great, and so are you. Picture of health. I think you'll go the full term before she's ready to come out, but it also could happen earlier, so call me if you have the smallest question. You're all set up with the midwife group, right? Jacqueline Jackson?"

"Yes."

"There's always doctors available for backup too. And I imagine your mom will be right there, whether you want her or not, ha-ha. Are you all set up at home? Crib, changing table, diapers, all that?"

"Yes," said Lucy. "My husband's got everything in order." Zach had set up a nursery in their house. He insisted that they would all be living there together happily, Zach and Lucy and the baby.

Zach had been to Mississippi twice, looking at land. Leo had gone with him one time, and Soledad, another. They had not found anything that was both geographically right and affordable. Zach was planning another trip tomorrow. He now said there was no need to actually buy the land. The ballad used the word
find
. And there was no more time.

"No matter what," Zach had said last night, "you have to do the plowing and sowing. I'm going to drive the entire coast and find the place and we'll fly you right down to it. It doesn't even have to be for sale. It just needs to be between water."

"If it's not for sale, then wouldn't the owners object to strangers poking around on it?"

"We won't tell them."

"Don't you think they might notice? If a pregnant woman is out there plowing and sowing their backyard?"

"I'll explain."

"Oh, really? This I've got to hear. What will you say?"

"I'll think of something. You're pregnant, for crying out loud. They won't arrest you. Come on, Lucy. We aren't going to let a little thing like what people will think stop us. Besides, Southerners are hospitable. They'll probably offer me lemonade."

"Excuse me? You're going to sit on a porch and drink lemonade while I plow a swamp with a goat's horn?"

"Yes, ma'am. And I aim to wear my seamless shirt while you do it."

Laughter was their best ally. And maybe it really would all happen like Zach said. It was hard to believe right now, though, as Lucy sat talking to her obstetrician in the hospital.

Suppose she didn't get to plow and sow, or even suppose she did, but she had done something wrong somewhere, so the curse wasn't broken after all? In this case, Lucy wondered, would she go insane immediately after the birth? Or would they get a few minutes or hours of peace in the birthing room? It would be nice if she got to hold the baby and know her. And if she got to see Zach holding the baby.

She had managed to explain, privately, to both Zach and Soledad that she was not to be given the baby if they had the smallest doubt about Lucy holding her carefully and tenderly, and that they were to keep a close watch on her, even so. "Don't go a step away," she said to Soledad. "Do you understand? Not a single step!"

Dr. Whang was going on now, talking about new-mother groups and asking how Lucy would manage with her high school classes. Lucy tried to pay attention and to respond appropriately.

It was so strange, talking to outsiders who thought she was going to have a normal motherhood experience. It was a little like having double vision. While in the middle of the conversation, Lucy could almost believe that she was going to take the baby home, where she would learn to diaper expertly and to manage night feedings on next to no sleep, as well as everything else in her life, including studying.

She didn't mind talking like this. It felt good to pretend.

Also, she enjoyed saying, "My husband." She used the phrase often in conversations like this. From the way Dr. Whang beamed at her, Lucy knew the doctor was happy, and even relieved, to hear her say things like: "My husband just got us a used Toyota." It was funny how traditional people really were sometimes. A year ago, she would never have guessed.

Part of her resented it. After all, she could so easily be a pregnant, unmarried teenager. What would these traditional people think then?

But, on the other hand … she wasn't. And to Lucy, at this point, the words
my husband
felt like a mystical touchstone. When she panicked, she had only to think of Zach and she would feel steadier.

She did not really believe things would be okay for her. But she did deeply, fully, and completely believe that Zach would make things okay for the baby. It was all going to be different for the baby. She would not even be a Scarborough. She would be a Greenfield. And Zach would not fail his child. He would have seventeen years to figure out the puzzle and make things right.

She said good-bye to Dr. Whang and began lumbering through the hospital corridors on her way to meet Soledad. Strangers smiled at her in the halls, in the elevator. Lucy had gotten used to this in the last several weeks. Depending on her mood, all the attention could seem like an assault, but most of the time, Lucy liked it. It helped her feel that what she was doing was important. It helped her feel that having the baby was the right decision, even when fear clawed at her and she wished—though she would never admit it out loud—that maybe, back when she was young, back when she was stupid, back when she felt invincible, she had listened to Soledad and chosen to have an abortion.

This thought made her clasp her right arm protectively to her stomach.
I don't mean it
, she thought to the baby. Of course I don't mean it.
Never. Never, sweet pea. Tour daddy will tell you how I felt. You shouldn't have a single doubt about how much you were wanted.
And there will be some purpose to it all, in the end. Some important purpose that I can't see right now.

Arriving at the midwife practice, she looked around. Soledad's office door was closed. Jacqueline's was open, but there was nobody there. Indeed, the whole office was deserted, without even the receptionist. She shrugged and took a seat, picking up a magazine called Traveler. Lucy leafed through it idly, and then stopped to look at some pictures of the Bay of Fundy, in northeast Canada, which featured the highest and the lowest tides in the world.

She read the entire article. And then she sat, brow furrowed in thought.

"Lucinda."

A dark voice, like syrup, interrupted her. The sound of it went down Lucy's spine like a touch. She looked up at the man who had taken a seat next to her in the abandoned waiting room. She knew him. It was that incredibly handsome man with the dark hair and the blue, blue eyes, the one who worked for Soledad. His name floated into her mind after a second of groping: Padraig Seeley.

"How are you doing?" he said, smiling. "You look well. You look lovely." And then he reached out easily and put a hand on her stomach. "How is your little daughter? About ready to be born, isn't she?"

Lucy did not think; she only acted. She grabbed Padraig's hand by the wrist and flung it away. "Don't touch her! Don't touch me!" A half second later, she discovered that she was no longer seated comfortably next to him. Instead, she was standing, teeth bared, a full two yards away. The magazine, dropped, was open at her feet.

She was panting.

"Lucinda, I didn't mean to offend …" He was looking straight into her eyes. He was smiling.

Lucy instinctively turned away from his gaze, his smile. She looked instead at the magazine on the floor, at those astounding pictures of the Bay of Fundy, where, every day, the floor of the Atlantic Ocean lay fully exposed during low tide. She bent, awkwardly, to pick up the magazine. She didn't know what had come over her, but—

There he was again, leaning toward her. Again he touched her—

"No! Get away!" Once more, she had somehow transported herself several feet farther from him. She was crouched like an animal.

"Lucinda—"

"I know you." The words came out of her. They were guttural, harsh, and only barely audible. They hurt to say. She said them again. "I know you. I know you from prom night."

"Yes, I was at your parents' for dinner—"

"No." The truth had broken upon her like dawn. "That's not what I mean. I mean it was you. It wasn't Gray. That wasn't his—his spirit. You made him rape me. And then you killed him. Or maybe he killed himself, because of what he thought he had done. I know you now. You tried to destroy me. You did destroy Miranda. So much suffering and pain, all from you. Now I see you. Now I know you."

She drew herself fully upright. She took a prudent step away, but faced the Elfin Knight with a straight back. "Did you think I wouldn't recognize you?"

The Elfin Knight smiled. It was the smile Lucy had last seen from three inches away, when this creature had possessed and destroyed Gray Spencer. "On the contrary, Lucinda," he said. "I wanted you to recognize me. It's time. You and I will be very closely acquainted. Beginning very soon." His gaze caressed her stomach. "I will own you completely."

Lucy froze. Then she whispered, "What?"

"Didn't a clever girl like you figure it out? Or any of your little helpers? Did you not read the ballad carefully? Should I remind you, perhaps, of the last line?" He hummed, and the words came to Lucy:

Her daughters forever possessions of mine.

How could she have missed that? How? And Zach, and Soledad, and Leo?

Horror spread inward to the marrow of Lucy's bones. It was not just madness she had to fear.

"I see," said the Elfin Knight silkily, "that you now understand."

Lucy did. Before, she had thought she knew her future, should she fail. Madness would be her lot. Homelessness. Loneliness. Hunger, cold, poverty. It had seemed terrible enough.

But all that she had seen and understood before was surface. Only surface.

And it was not only herself for whom she was horrified.

Miranda, Lucy thought frantically. Oh, my God. Miranda! I didn't know!

Possibly her thought showed somehow on her face. Or perhaps the Elfin Knight had the power to read her mind.

"Your mother has been a delightful consort to me," said the Elfin Knight. "She is too old now, but the women of your line have been pleasing me for many decades. You will do well in her place." He leaned closer and smiled that smile again. "Although one of my first pleasures will be punishing you for marrying. It's no way for my true love to behave."

He paused, and then added idly, "Perhaps I will make you kill him for me."

Lucy stood quite still. She could not even think. If she had had the means to take her own life at that moment, she would have.

"I'll leave you for the present," said the Elfin Knight. "But I must say, it's been rather fascinating. Watching you struggle. You even made some small progress. That silly shirt has actually been something of an irritant to me, in fact. It has some power. It's all in vain, of course. I tell you this in kindness, so that you can prepare yourself. We will do well together, you and I. Until, of course, it's time for me to take your daughter."

He came to Lucy and took her face in his hands, tilting it up quite tenderly to his. He leaned down and kissed her lips. His were smooth as metal. "Until we meet again," said the Elfin Knight.