Whitefern (22 page)

“She'll be healthy,” Mrs. Matthews said, straightening up and turning back to the baby. “Most mothers who want to breastfeed want to establish a stronger bond with their child. Obviously, that's not the case here. I'll take her now and do the evaluation and then set up the first feeding, which you can do, Audrina, perhaps in your room. Just place her on the bed with you.”

“Good,” Arden said quickly. “Audrina?”

“Yes, of course,” I said.

“You can expect that Sylvia's breasts will leak and ache,” Mrs. Matthews said. “She'll survive it, but I can imagine, having spent all this time with her, that she will be quite frightened and confused. I'll do what I can, but none of this will be my business soon.”

“I'd rather we do it the way I want,” Arden said. “Audrina will feed the baby.” He was firm about it.

“Do as you wish,” Mrs. Matthews said, sounding not so much angry as indifferent that her advice wasn't being followed. She took the baby to the table to begin her exam.

I looked at Sylvia. Her eyes were open, but she looked like she was in a daze.

“Sylvia?” I said. She didn't turn to me, nor did she speak. “Is she still in pain?” I asked.

“Some, but it will pass. I'll give her something soon,” Mrs. Matthews said. “There's only one of me here.”

“But are you sure she's all right? Sylvia? She's not hearing me.”

Mrs. Matthews glanced at her. “A little shock. It'll pass,” she said.

I sat up and kissed Sylvia's cheek. “Are you all right, Sylvia?” I patted her hand gently and kissed her again. “Sylvia?”

She didn't answer.

“Are you sure she's all right?”

“I'm sure,” Mrs. Matthews said without turning back. “Leave her to rest.”

“Do what Mrs. Matthews says,” Arden ordered. “We hired her to handle this, Audrina.”

I got up slowly and dressed, my eyes still on Sylvia, waiting for her to look at me or speak, even cry. She did nothing.

“Audrina!” Arden said sharply.

I followed him to my room. As soon as we entered, he turned to me, his face full of excitement, his eyes wide.

“We did it!” he said, holding his hands up in fists. “We did it!”

He looked like he was going to burst and waited for me to react similarly, but I sat silently on my bed, feeling like I was the one in shock, not Sylvia. What Mrs. Matthews had put me through had had an extraordinary effect on me. It would be ludicrous to say that I felt like I had truly given birth, but the mimicking had certainly given me more than simply a sense of it.

“Aren't you happy?” Arden asked when I didn't respond to his joyful outburst. “What's wrong with you?” he demanded.

“I feel so strange, like a woman who has gone through false labor and discovered there was no baby inside her.”

“But there
is
a baby, damn it, get that through your head. We've prepared months and months for this.”

“I know, I know, Arden. It's just one thing to plan for it and another to have it happen.”

“Yeah, well, it happened, so start reading those books I brought you about being a proper mother. Mrs. Matthews recommended all of them. It's all on you from here on out as far as taking care of the baby goes.”

“Adelle,” I said. I wanted him to reconfirm that he would accept the name that Sylvia had suggested.

“Right, Adelle. Now, Mrs. Matthews will stay on
for a few weeks. The story is that you had a tough delivery, and she's here to help until you're strong enough.”

“I'm worried about Sylvia.”

“Well, stop worrying. It's all going to be fine. We've escaped the embarrassment and the damage to our name and our business. After Mrs. Matthews leaves, we'll begin inviting people over to see the baby and you. We'll have a party or something.”

I nodded, but still not with the enthusiasm he wanted. I saw the unhappy look on his face hardening.

“Listen,” he said, taking a softer approach. “We'll be moving you both upstairs now. You'll see how beautiful the nursery is, and you'll be too busy to think of anything else. I'm sure you'll feel a lot better then. As soon as we can take the baby out, we'll go shopping to get you new clothes. That's what new mothers do. And we'll go shopping to get the baby things, too. And yes, we'll bring Sylvia along when she's well enough and no one can tell what she's been through, and we'll buy her things, too. Okay? Okay?” he repeated when I didn't answer.

“Okay,” I replied.

“All right.” He brushed back his hair and fixed his tie. “I'm going to return to work and announce the baby's birth. Everyone's waiting on pins and needles at the office. I've got a box of cigars in my car that I bought months ago in anticipation. See you later for our private celebration dinner. Get yourself together, Audrina. I'm looking forward to wonderful days ahead for us all.”

He walked over to kiss me on the cheek and then left. I went to the window and looked out. Mr. Ralph was trimming a tree. If I closed my eyes and imagined it, I could be back years and years ago, when I had stood by windows of Whitefern and looked out at a world I feared without realizing why. I was doing the same thing now.

I shouldn't be, I thought. After all, Arden was right. His plan was ending up just the way he wanted it to. Everything we had done was working, although it still would be strange having Sylvia think of the baby as more mine than hers. Maybe it would be enough to have her think it was ours. People who heard her say or think that aloud would surely smile and shake their heads, believing it was all part of her being a child in a woman's body. There would be nothing strange about it to them, only to me.

A little later, under Mrs. Matthews's supervision, I gave Adelle her first feeding. Despite how she had been conceived, I thought Adelle was beautiful. It was impossible to predict what her features would be like months, even years, from now, but at this moment, I thought there were very strong resemblances to Sylvia and, therefore, to me or the Adares. As soon as the baby had gone to sleep on my bed, I rose to check on Sylvia.

She was lying with her eyes open, just as before, but clearly not seeing anything. Mrs. Matthews came up beside me, looked at her, and moved to the bed and began to check her blood pressure. She listened to her heart with a stethoscope and then looked at me. “She'll be all right. Just sit here and talk to her,” she ordered.

“Are you sure? Maybe she needs more medical attention. I wouldn't want anything to happen to her just because we were afraid of revealing the truth now. Really. I'm worried.”

“Calm down,” she snapped. “Just read her a story or something.”

When she left, I sat next to Sylvia and began to talk to her.

“Our baby has been born, Sylvia. You have to help care for her, you know. You can't sleep too long. We need you. I know it was painful, but when you see her and see how beautiful she is, you will agree that it was worth it.”

She blinked, but nothing else in her face moved.

“Someday soon, you'll be playing with her, Sylvia. You'll show her things, how to do things. And when she can walk, you'll take her into the woods and show her the squirrels. But you have to be strong, Sylvia. You have to be healthy and well.”

I took her hand and held it. This couldn't be right. This couldn't be just a little thing. She wasn't moving or trying to speak. I lowered my head and closed my eyes.
Papa
, I thought.
Papa, help us.

I looked at the rocking chair.

“I'm going to tell Papa about the baby, Sylvia, but he'll want you to tell him, too.”

I went to the chair. It had been years since I had sat in it. It actually terrified me a little. When I sat, memories came rushing back—the visions, the voices, everything I had ever seen or heard when I closed my eyes and rocked. I glanced back at Sylvia. She looked like
she had turned a little toward me. I took a deep breath, like I would if I was going to jump into the pond, and then I put my arms on the arms of the chair, closed my eyes, and rocked.

I saw Papa's angry face. The words I feared resonated.

You were supposed to protect her, Audrina. You promised.

I started to cry, crying like a little girl again. I couldn't have Papa mad at me. I couldn't.

“I'm sorry, Papa. I'm sorry,” I moaned.

“Papa?” I heard, and opened my eyes. Sylvia was sitting up. “Did you hear Papa?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “He's waiting for you, Sylvia, for you.”

She started to get out of the bed.

Mrs. Matthews, as if she had been listening just outside the door, appeared. “You stay in that bed,” she ordered, pointing with her long right forefinger at Sylvia. “I'll tell you when you can get up.”

Sylvia froze.

“But it helped her,” I said. “The rocking chair.”

“I told you that her lethargy wouldn't last. You don't have to go through some stupid magic. She'll be fine. Now, go keep your eyes on the baby. I'll handle Sylvia. Go on!” she ordered, so sharply I winced and then got up.

“Papa,” Sylvia said.

“Lie down,” Mrs. Matthews commanded. “I won't have you tear those stitches and bleed all over the place. Go on. Do as I say.”

Sylvia lay back reluctantly, her eyes on the chair.

Mrs. Matthews glared at me. “You'd have her up rocking in that chair with those stitches still fresh? I can see I'll be here for a while yet. Go on. Go to your room.”

I wanted so much to shout back at her, but we were still trapped, trapped by the secrets. I glanced at Sylvia and then went and stood beside the bassinet, watching Adelle breathe and occasionally whimper like a puppy. Could I do it? Could I make her my baby? Could I stop thinking about who her father was and how she had been conceived? Of course, it was wrong, even stupid, to blame the baby, but it wasn't easily ignored.

I sat on my bed softly beside Adelle and picked up one of the pamphlets about caring for an infant. Hours later, Arden returned, beaming as brightly as he had before, if not more. He rattled on and on about all the congratulations he had received, the clients who had called, and how wonderful it had made him feel.

“Maybe I should have been there,” I said, my voice full of bitterness.

“Now, how could you do that, Audrina? Really? If you're going to be a mother, think like an adult,” he said, and looked at the baby. “Of course, like your father, I wanted a son,” he said, “but for now, she will do.”

“For now?”

“Maybe simulating a birth has helped make you fertile. We'll try for a son. One can hope. Of course, we can't get right to it.” He smiled. “Women who give birth don't conceive days after.”

What was he thinking? Women who give birth don't conceive days after? Sometimes he sounded like someone who had been through this many times. Once again, I wondered about his college years. How many secrets had he buried?

“How's Sylvia?” he asked.

“You'll have to go see for yourself. I was dismissed,” I said.

“Dismissed?”

I turned back to the baby. He left and later returned to tell me Sylvia was doing well. She had even eaten something.

“A day or so of rest, and everything will be fine,” he said. “I've ordered our celebration dinner. Mrs. Crown made all the arrangements. We're having lobster. You, of course, will do nothing. Mrs. Matthews is setting the table. I've bought a bottle of the best champagne. So just rest for now. Later we will move everything upstairs, and you'll be back in our bedroom, and Sylvia will be back in hers. Mrs. Matthews says we can move her later, too.”

“I wouldn't go up without her.”

He started out and stopped, turning back. “I'll bring the rocking chair back up if you like, but we'll put it in Sylvia's room for now. I imagine that will make her feel better. When Mrs. Matthews leaves, we can move it into the guest room or out of the house completely. Up to you,” he said. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I said. It would make Sylvia happy right now.

He smiled and left.

Adelle was still asleep. I lay back, keeping very close to her, and closed my eyes. I dozed off but woke when Mrs. Matthews entered. She didn't realize I was awake. I opened my eyes slightly and saw her check Adelle and then wrap her comfortably in the blanket. She picked her up and held her, smiling at her. Could this woman feel motherly? She had helped deliver so many children, I imagined, but I was certain she had never been as involved as she had been in Adelle's birth.

The moment she saw that I was awake, she stopped smiling.

“We've brought the bassinet down to be at the dining-room table,” she said. “For tonight's celebratory dinner. It's what your husband asked.”

“What about Sylvia?”

“It's best she remain in bed for a while longer. I'll bring her some dinner later. She's sleeping now. I gave her something to help her sleep and ease any pain.”

“Okay.”

She looked at me strangely for a moment. “I'm sorry you couldn't have your own child properly, but I assure you, this is a blessing in disguise. Your husband is a very smart man.” She started out with Adelle in her arms. Then she stopped and looked at me. “You might want to put on something special and do your hair.”

“Why is that important to you?” I asked.

“It's not important to me, but I know that the part you're playing has really just begun. My free advice is for you to get right into it.”

“Somehow I doubt that advice is free,” I said.

Her smug expression faded.

I wanted to be defiant, just to go out as I was, but I realized she was not wrong. The baby had been born. Sylvia would be fine. The world would know only what Arden had revealed, and we would go on, maybe even as the family Arden imagined.

After all, what other choice was there?