“Good girl,” Marge murmurs as she pours steaming water into our mugs.
“Then he…” I swallow and wrap my hand around the hot ceramic, needing the burn to focus on. “He said that I was only with George for his money. That I was like you. Which I knew were lies.” I meet Mom’s eyes to reassure her.
She only looks concerned for me, though.
Which makes this next part agony to say.Do I even need the answer?
The words are flowing before I can decide.
“He said you’d planned to get rid of me.”
And my first thought was…
Maybe she should have. She could have avoided so much suffering.
She might not have lost her job. Never would have been financiallyunstable. Never worried about paying for housing and food. Never had to give up so much of her life to take care of me. Never been blacklisted by BBN.
Maybe she would have been working at a company with great health benefits when she first got diagnosed.
Marge quietly leaves the room, and I focus solely on the rising steam from my mug.
“He wasn’t lying.” Mom’s voice, when it comes, is quiet but firm.
“He wasn’t,” I repeat. Not a question. Because deep down, it had felt like the truth. The moment he said it, the decision felt right. Felt like the route my mother would have taken.
She’s always been pro-choice. Taught me the importance of a woman maintaining control over her body. A younger Charlotte would have considered all available options and settled on terminating the pregnancy because it made the most sense.
“That was the truth,” she continues, voice steady. “I told him I was going to get an abortion. I had one scheduled.”
“You changed your mind?” Obviously, because I’m here.
“I never expected anything from Karl. The affair, that was a choice I made. A selfish one, I know. But I never had this idea of him leaving his wife for me. He was attractive and charming—at least good at faking being charming—and I enjoyed the attention.” Self-disgust is thick in her voice. “But I don’t think he ever believed that I didn’t want more. That’s his arrogance.Of course, I must have been in love with him—and his money.” She rolls her eyes. “When I told him about the pregnancy, he went cold. Harsh. Demanded I terminate it.”
I open my mouth, but she shakes her head, pressing on.
“I didn’t make the choice in order to follow his command. I decided to set up an appointment because he revealed who he truly was. A cruel, cold-hearted sociopath. All I could think about was being tied to someone like him forever. All I could imagine was having toraise a carbon copy of him. That’s why I decided I wanted to go through with the abortion.”
“He said you changed your mind because you met Mrs.Newton. That you got jealous.”
Mom huffs a harsh laugh. “He would think that. Because he must be at the center of everything.” She reaches out to take my cold hand in hers. “No. I wasn’t jealous. I changed my mind because I met Shawn.”
I start at the sound of my brother’s name, and my mouth falls open when I see her fond smile.
“He came to the office with Meg—his mom—one day. Before she found out about the affair and before my appointment. She went to speak to Karl and left Shawn with his assistant. I could see him sitting there, staring around with these big, curious eyes. Then he wandered over to my desk and asked if he could pet my dog.”
“Your what?”
“I had a picture on my desk of Gingerbread.” There are photos in some album of a baby me sitting next to the chunky yellow Lab mix Mom used to have before the sweet dog passed. “He petted the picture and asked me all about Gingerbread. What she ate, what toys she liked, if I thought she would like him. Then he handed me back the frame, said I looked like the tooth fairy, and asked if I had any teeth with me.”
I laugh. At the start of this conversation, I didn’t think I’d be able to.
But that’s my brother.
Mom smiles at me and the memory. “That’s when I realized that if I decided to go through with the pregnancy, you would bemine. You wouldn’t be another Karl Newton. Even the kid being raised in the same house as the man was sweeter than I could imagine. And funny. And just…his own little person.” She cups my face with her palm. “I realized that you would be your own little person, too. I didn’t have afamily, but that’s when I realized I wanted one. Wanted you. I wanted to meet you.”
When her thumb swipes under my eyes, I become aware of the tears tracing down my face.
“Shawn lent me the money to pay for your medical bills,” I blurt in the face of her lovely sentiment.
