Authors: Emilie Richards
Tessa put her hand on Nancy’s arm. “No, let me take you out. Let’s go to that place you mentioned in Woodstock. We can bring back something for Gram.”
Nancy looked touched. “Well, that would be lovely. You’ll like it.”
They drove in silence and parked on a side street. The little town, with its historic limestone courthouse and attractive log and brick buildings, was quiet, and they ordered sandwiches without fuss at Honeycutt and Sugarbaker, the little café within a larger collection of shops and booths of collectibles.
They took a seat by the window, gazing out over the street, and Tessa dove into the best chicken sandwich she had ever eaten.
“I used to take you out to lunch a lot when you were a little girl,” Nancy said.
“And instruct me on the proper way to eat, sit and cross my legs.”
“You learned well. You do me proud.”
Tessa laughed. She was surprised to find she was really enjoying herself. This new, more relaxed mother was someone she didn’t know. “You always bought me Rocky Road ice cream, remember? If a restaurant didn’t have it, we went looking for it afterwards.”
“You were unbelievably set in your ways.”
Tessa wondered if she still was. Despite herself, she thought of the conversation with Mack last night, as she had at regular intervals all day. Had she coped with her daughter’s death by becoming so rigid, so afraid she might encounter more pain, that she wasn’t coping at all, merely atrophying?
“How do you see me now, Mom?” She lifted her head. “Do you think I’m coping?”
She didn’t need to elaborate. It was clear from Nancy’s expression that she understood. “Do you want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“No, I don’t think you are.”
Tessa waited for her to go on, but Nancy chose this one time in her life to be silent.
“Mack doesn’t think so, either,” Tessa said at last. “We’re this close to a divorce.” She didn’t even illustrate. She was sure Nancy knew.
“Is that what you want?”
Tessa really didn’t know. But she did know that Mack had been right last night when he said she’d been pushing him toward one. She’d thought about it through the long night, and she knew that part was true.
“Mack says that maybe I can’t come to terms with Kayley’s death until all reminders of her are gone, and that includes him.”
“I suspect he said that hoping you would deny it.”
Tessa looked up from her plate. “I didn’t.”
“They don’t come better than Andrew MacRae. The alternative is a life without anyone, because no one else will measure up.”
“I’ve been thinking about your story the other day, about the way you met Daddy. You must have gotten pregnant soon after?”
“I was a farm girl. I should have known better. Unfortunately, animals don’t demonstrate the use of condoms, and neither did your dad.”
Tessa laughed, despite herself. “He should have known better.”
“Let’s just say we got carried away.”
“What was it like? Not getting carried away, but being pregnant so young and without being married. And I don’t want the sanitized version. Maybe I need to hear about difficult times and the way they’re overcome.” She said it lightly, but she knew it might be more than half true.
“Do you really want to know? It doesn’t show the best side of either of us.”
“I think I really would like to know.” Tessa toyed with what was left of her sandwich. “You got through it.”
“More or less. And you were our reward. No matter how it came about, neither of us was ever sorry we had you.”
Tessa considered. “I was never sorry you did, either.”
“Until Kayley died. Then you were sorry you’d ever been born.”
Tessa wondered if that was true. Was she that bitter? And why hadn’t she allowed herself to think of any of this until now, to look at her own reactions and question them?
She stood, resting her hands against the small of her back for a moment. “I’m ready for cappuccino. Shall I get you some?”
Nancy smiled a little. “No, I’ll just sit here and figure out how to explain what idiots your father and I were thirty-eight years ago, right before we brought you into the world.”
August 1964
N
ancy hadn’t really made plans for her life. Sure, she’d dreamed a lot, imagining modeling agents or talent scouts who found her amidst the tomatoes and the sweet corn and signed her to lucrative contracts. But she was too smart to think those were anything but dreams. If she had any particular strengths, she wasn’t aware of them. If she had any resources outside her own quick wits and passably pretty face, she wasn’t aware of those, either.
Then Billy Whitlock entered her life, and suddenly plans, strengths and resources seemed inconsequential. She had Billy for the summer, and that was plan enough.
She was still stunned that someone like Billy, even with a limited field to choose from, had settled on her for a summer romance. He was handsome and smart. He was a considerate, passionate lover, and once she got over the fact that she was no longer a “good girl,” she reciprocated with all the love she’d never found a home for.
And she
was
in love, despite knowing how foolish that was. Where would she find a more perfect man? His manners were impeccable, and his ability to talk to anyone about anything—even Helen—was remarkable, although Helen still couldn’t be swayed. Nancy’s mother was suspicious and wary, and from the moment she realized Billy was in the picture, Helen began to find more for Nancy to do, so that the little free time she had was used up.
Nancy still found ways to see him.
This night, though, seeing Billy was not a pleasure but a necessity. He was leaving for home in three days, and eager to go. He was not crass enough to tell her he could hardly wait to get back to a more rarified existence, but she had seen the signs. She had expected this, and she had never fallen prey to false hope. In her mind, the divide between them was so wide that of course Billy would forget her as soon as he returned to Richmond.
Tonight, though, she was going to have to tell him that she wasn’t as forgettable as she had expected to be.
Helen had never understood Nancy’s desire for a little privacy and fumed nonstop about closed doors and girls who put on airs. As Nancy dressed to go out, Helen barged into her room without knocking, which had always been her way.
“You spend too much time with that boy,” Helen said bluntly. “You’d be better off staying at home tonight.”
Nancy finished powdering her nose. Her hands were trembling, and the face in her mirror was pale, and not from Cover Girl bisque. “He’s leaving in a few days, Mama. Just let it go.”
“Should have left before he even got here. A boy like that don’t need anything we got to offer around here.”
Nancy knew that was Helen’s way of saying that Billy didn’t need
her
. For once in her life, her mother was right.
The air was turning cooler, and she pulled a Bobbie Brooks blouse with a Peter Pan collar over a Madras wraparound skirt. Billy had offered to take her out for dinner, and though she doubted they would get that far, she wanted to dress nicely enough to match whatever he showed up in.
“Nanny…”
Nancy closed her eyes and waited.
“You be careful,” Helen said at last. “That’s all. Just be careful.”
The warning was already too late.
Billy picked her up fifteen minutes later, attempting polite conversation with Helen for a few moments until it was clear there was no hope of detente. Once they were out on the road, he put the top down on the Corvette and cranked up the engine.
“Pull over,” she said, when the combination of the rushing air and the speed made her stomach lurch.
“Why?”
“Now!”
He braked to a halt, and she stumbled out just in time to lose the little she’d eaten since breakfast in the roadside weeds.
To Billy’s credit, he gave her his handkerchief and opened a Coke from a stash on his backseat to rinse her mouth with. Then he waited until she was able to speak.
“You should have told me you weren’t feeling well tonight,” he chided. “You ought to be home in bed.”
She began to sob, and he put his arms around her and rubbed her back. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed. It happens to everybody.”
“Not to men it doesn’t!”
It took him a moment to understand. She knew the instant he did. His hand stopped, and his body stiffened. “Are you saying…?”
“That I’m pregnant? Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Now she really was embarrassed. “Yes! I’ve missed two periods. I’m sick in the morning. My breasts hurt. I looked it up in a book at the library yesterday. I’m going to have a baby.”
He didn’t ask whose. He knew better.
“God damn,” he said.
“Don’t curse at me.”
“Why didn’t you say something before?”
“Because I kept hoping and hoping it wasn’t true. And you can’t always tell, you know, and for a long time I just felt normal. And sometimes periods can be late or even skip. I’ve heard that happens. And I thought maybe everything we’ve been doing just upset things a little. And you were careful most of the time, Billy. I just couldn’t believe it.”
“God damn!” He turned and slammed his fist against the hood of his car.
Her heart was breaking. She was too realistic to think he would be over the moon with joy, that he would grab her and promise to marry and protect her for the rest of their long lives together. But she had hoped for better than this.
The summer had done funny things to her, even before the pregnancy. She had begun to think about herself in a new way. Before Billy, she had only yearned for something different, for love and a place where she really belonged. Now, after a taste of something better, she had begun to believe she deserved a different life, that she might really find her way out of Toms Brook, that even if Billy wasn’t a permanent route, he’d been a helpful signpost.
“We should have been more careful.” He was leaning against the car now, his arms crossed over his chest.
“That’s pretty clear.” She didn’t know where to look, so she looked just over his shoulder.
“You need to go to a doctor to make sure it’s true.”
She
knew
it was true, but she supposed it made sense from his viewpoint to get the news signed, sealed and delivered. “I can’t go to our family doctor. He’ll tell Mama.”
“Don’t you think she’s going to figure it out soon enough?”
“Later would be better.”
“What’s she going to do?”
Nancy wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think Helen would throw her out, although there would surely be hell to pay. Could she bear to stay in the house with her mother, listen to her criticism, be chastised every time she tried to do something for the baby that Helen disapproved of? Did she have the right to bring a child into the world the two women inhabited, a somber, poor existence where even the sweetest baby would be a burden?
“She’s going to be hard to live with,” Nancy said, and knew it was an almost comic understatement.
“She’s already hard to live with.”
“I thought about not telling you. I just wanted to be a good memory. I didn’t want to be the mother of your baby. I didn’t want to trap you.”
“Trap me?”
She stared at him and realized that the possibility of marrying her might not even have occurred to him. The idea of marrying her might
never
occur to him. She was like the job he had finished at the Dan-D, a taste of what awaited him if he screwed up his life. And he’d learned what he needed to know.
“I wasn’t trying to get you to marry me.” She turned her back on him. “I didn’t do this on purpose. I never set out to get pregnant.”
“I haven’t even graduated from college yet.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“I’d just about decided to go on with…” The sentence trailed off. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Go on with what?”
He didn’t answer.
“Go on with what?” she demanded.
“I changed majors in my junior year. My father wanted me to get an accounting or economics degree so I could join his business. He’s a financial consultant, the best in Richmond. But I changed without telling him. I thought I might want to be a forest ranger. He only found out when I told him I wasn’t going to graduate on time. That’s why I’m here for the summer. He told me the only courses he’ll pay for are the ones I need to complete the accounting degree. I’m supposed to decide if I want an education his way or not at all.”
Billy had hinted at this previously, although she hadn’t understood how the pieces fit together. “And what had you decided?”
“To screw up my life, apparently. To screw up yours. To screw up a baby’s.”
“Are you going to tell your parents?”
His eyes widened, as if he couldn’t believe she’d asked. “What do you think?”
She didn’t know. She didn’t really know him. They’d laughed together, had wonderful sex, talked about inconsequential things. But she didn’t really know Billy Whitlock. In the ways that most mattered, he was a stranger.
“I’ll get you a doctor’s appointment. Somewhere they don’t know you,” he added when she started to interrupt. “Okay? That’s what we’ll do first. Then we’ll figure out where to go from there.”
“I won’t get rid of it.”
He pushed away from the car. “I didn’t ask you to.”
“I don’t care if you find a place that’s safe and private. I’m not that kind of person.”
“What kind of person are you?”
She was afraid she might never find out now. She felt like any growth she’d made this summer had been stunted, and now everything she was and was going to be had to revolve around the life inside her.
“I’d like to go back home now,” she said.
“What will you tell your mother?”
“That you’re getting a cold and I don’t want to catch it.”
“Wouldn’t it be great if things were that simple?”
Somehow he found her an appointment in Winchester the following day. The doctor agreed she was pregnant, due sometime in March. She was healthy, young and strong. He foresaw no complications. She thought the last part was the only funny thing he said during the brief appointment.
Billy was waiting outside when she emerged. She told him the news, showed him the prescription for prenatal vitamins and the card for her next appointment. He gave a curt nod, helped her into the Corvette, then took her right home and dropped her off.
“I’ll be in touch,” he said, when he came around the side of the car to open her door.
“Billy, don’t we need to talk?”
“I have to think about things first. Give me a little time, okay?” He was abrupt, but not quite rude.
“Is there a way to get hold of you?” She watched him hesitate, as if the last thing he wanted was to share his family’s phone number. With a grimace, he relented, taking a scrap of paper from his pocket and scribbling on it.
He handed it to her. “Don’t call unless it’s an emergency.”
“I think this just about qualifies, don’t you?”
“I said I’ll be in touch, and I will.”
She wondered if she would hear from Billy or his lawyer next.
The following week her nausea grew worse, but she hid it from Helen, who was too busy keeping food on the table to notice anything. Helen seemed relieved that Billy was out of the picture and eased up on the work she required of Nancy now that summer was ending. Nancy spent her free time fretting and pacing. She was due back at the school once the first semester was in gear, but that seemed light years away.
Billy called a week later, when Helen was gone. Halfway into the first minute, she realized he was checking, among other things, to see if somehow a miracle had occurred and she’d lost the baby.
“Wouldn’t that make life simple?” she said. “I’m sorry I can’t just make it go away by wishing. I know that would suit you.”
“Come on, Nancy, don’t tell me it wouldn’t suit you, too.”
“If that’s all you’ve been doing, Billy, waiting and hoping that I’ll have a miscarriage, then maybe you’d best put your mind to better use. I’ll be showing before long. My skirts are already tight. I had to move the button on two of them. I don’t see how I can go back to work.”
“I’ll call in a couple of days.”
But he didn’t. By the end of the next week, she was frantic. She even called and left a message at his home, with a woman who called him Young Mr. Whitlock and spoke with a liquid drawl. Just as she was about to hang up, the woman said, “He won’t be home again for a while. You might want to try him at school.”
Nancy hung up, stunned. Billy had already gone back to school. Without telling her. Without caring if she knew. He had gone back to UVA hoping that Nancy wouldn’t find him and the baby would simply disappear.
She cried herself to sleep that night, but when she woke up, she knew she couldn’t go on like this. Before she told her mother, before she changed the entire course of her life, she had to see Billy face-to-face one more time and demand that he help her. The baby was his, too. Was it fair that only she suffered the consequences?