“It was a lot better with him, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t,” I told him.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t ask me about Joe.”
“It’s almost like he’s here with us, since his baby is inside you.”
I sat up and swung my legs to the side of the bed. “I was crazy to think this would work. We’ll get a divorce or annulment in the morning.”
“No. No McCauley has ever gotten a divorce. No one in your family has, either, and it’s not going to start with us. Besides, what about the baby?”
The baby. My spine sagged. “Charlie, you knew the situation when you married me. If you can’t accept it, we’d best end things now.”
“I accept it. At least, I’m trying to.” His voice broke. Tears streamed down his face. “Oh, Addie—I just love you so much. And it’s killing me that you gave yourself to another man.”
“Look, Charlie... I can’t—Iwon’t—put up with you throwing it in my face. You said as far as the world was concerned, this is your baby.”
“Yes. Yes, it will be.”
“No. Itis.”
“Okay. You’re right. Itis.It’s our baby.”
“And I’m your wife,” I said, “and you’re my husband.”
He drew me into a kiss so desperate it seemed as if I were his source of oxygen. He didn’t bring up Joe again that night, but he was right there with us, every time we tried to make love.
I say “tried” because instead of getting better, Charlie just got worse. The second and third times, he couldn’t even wait until he was inside me.
I held him in my arms and stroked his hair, as if he were the doll we used to play house with. “It’s okay,” I told him. “It’ll get better. We’ve got a lifetime to figure it out.”
That calmed him down. I felt him relax in my arms. I eased his head down on the pillow and lay beside him. As my new husband’s breathing grew deep and rhythmic, I spent the rest of my wedding night silently crying into my pillow.
24
hope
Ihave to say, ever since I’d seen the photo of Joe, I’d been pretty sure how Gran’s saga would unfold. I knew unwed motherhood was a shocking scandal back in the day, but Gran had always struck me as more progressive—progressive enough that I was surprised she felt it was such a dark source of shame.
All the same, this new piece of information went a long way toward explaining the differences between Uncle Eddie and my mother. For one thing, there was their appearance; Mom had been fair-headed, while Uncle Eddie was dark-haired like my granddad. And then there was their temperament. Mom had been almost frighteningly single-minded, no-nonsense, and in charge, where as Eddie... well, Eddie was a caregiver, emotional and eager to please.
I patted Gran’s hand. “This is a surprise, Gran, but it’s totally understandable. I don’t think any less of you, and I don’t think Mom would have, either. And I’m sure Eddie will just feel bad for you, that you’ve felt so much shame about this all these years.”
“Oh, phooey. I’m not worried about Eddie knowing about this.”
“No?”
“No. Eddie’ll be just fine learning I’m no saint. But he’ll need your support for the rest of it.”
“There’s more?”
“Oh, child—this is just the background story.” She blew out a sigh, and her face crumpled. Her eyes radiated a depth of despair that scared me. “I was part of something awful, and I need your help to make it right.”
I tried to hide my alarm. “Gran, I’m sure there’s nothing...”
“You just wait, child. You just wait.” She rubbed her head.
