“Selfish? You had a choice and you kept that baby in your womb. You tell me what’s selfish about that?”
I sigh, squeeze my eyes shut.
“You weren’t but eighteen years old. Had just started your first year at Ole Miss—on a full scholarship. You weren’t ready to be a mama.”
If only I could reverse that decision. I’d be a mother. “Adopted children grow up with all kinds of abandonment issues, Aunt Fee. I’ve been reading about it.”
“When that baby came out looking like she did, you done the merciful thing. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but you stuff somethin’ down long enough, it’s bound to come out, one way or another. You know what I’m sayin’?”
Every cell in my body feels like it’s on fire. There’s no way around it. I gave up my own flesh and blood. The one and only chance to have a baby of my own is gone because I was too young and too selfish to raise her. “Have you ever thought about why I’ve worked at Alpha Delt long as I have?”
“You say it’s because you love the girls.”
“I do, but that’s not the only reason. Suppose my baby had decided to come to Ole Miss?”
“Is that what kept you in this job? Thinking she could have been an Alpha Delt?”
“You never know. Things are changing. Lots of folks from Memphis come to Ole Miss. If she had decided to come here, I could have given her the money I’ve been saving for her college tuition.”
“Pearl.” She takes hold of my hand. “You go on and use that money on yourself.” Then she looks me square in the eye. “You gave your baby a good life. And she loves you for it.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Just something I know. The Lord is looking after her, baby. He’s lookingafter you, too, but He wants you to think of yourself for a change. Your daughter would want you to do that, too.”
I start to tell her how much I long to see Autumn’s face, hold her in my arms, but she puts a finger to my lips. “Shhhh, now. Stay still. Let His peace wash over you.” Then she wraps her arm around my shoulders, pulls me into her side. I feel her hand on my head, stroking my hair. Sitting here next to her—warm arms snuggled around me—is the safest place I know. I don’t want to move. Not now, not ever.
Before I know it she’s humming. No words, just melody. With my chin nestled into her neck, I breathe in her familiar scent. The smell I’ve known and loved since I was a baby. Her harmony lulls me with calm as if she’s an angel strumming a heavenly harp.Don’t leave me, Aunt Fee, please don’t leave me,echoes inside my head over and over again till I will it away, the way I always do when something breaks my heart.
FORTY-NINE
WILDA
Walking inside our house is like coming home and finding your pet dead. Because it feels like we’re dead. The grandiose way in which I have disappointed my husband gives me an unfamiliar heaviness, like two bowling balls are tied to a rope around my neck. I can scarcely imagine looking Haynes in the eye. For the first time in our thirty-four-year marriage, I can’t stand the sound of my own feet on the floor. It would be easier to lift a car off my foot than it would be to discard the cloak of shame I’m wearing. I am miserable.
My whole life, all the insecurity—and the ways I had coped—came to a head on the drive home. Every time Mama tried to say something, I had to stop her. I couldn’t stand the sound of her voice. Or mine. For a solid hour all I did was think about the person I had become, why I had become that person, and what I was going to do to bury her. Thethoughtof living one more minute as an insecure woman is more exhausting than actually living as one.
As much as I’d like to, there is no point in putting any blame on Mama for the deception. I did this. She kept insisting that I tell Haynes, but I wouldn’t hear of it. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I still agreed to let Lilith Whitmore hire a dorm-room decorator. What kind of message did that send Ellie? Tomorrow can’t come soon enough. If I have to deliver pizzas, I am finding ajob and paying Mama back every red cent. Then I’ll spend the rest of my life if I have to, begging Haynes to forgive me.
Daisy is waiting at the back door. As soon as she sees me, she hurls herself at my knees. I scoop her up and let her lick my face clean. Then I put her down and watch as she runs a victory lap at breakneck speed around the kitchen and our adjoining den, purely to celebrate my homecoming.
While watching her run, and the happiness she feels to have me home, I’m struck with a profound thought. Dogs are the purest, most authentic portraits of God’s unconditional love we’ll ever have on this earth. We humans eventually impose restrictions and let each other down, no matter the depth of our love. But God, like our beloved canines, loves and forgives us no matter what we’ve done wrong.
I head straight to the bedroom with Daisy at my heels. She runs right over to her little bed in the corner and curls herself into a ball. Haynes is not in bed yet, but I see a light under the bathroom door. So I stand outside and listen to the sound of water running. When it stops I hear him tap his toothbrush on the sink. Now I hear his footsteps padding toward the door. I step aside as he walks past. It’s dark in the room so he can’t see me. I watch him pull back the covers of our bed and slip inside.
Not wanting to startle him I tap on the wall. “Haynes,” I say softy.
He lifts his head, looks my way, then falls back down on the pillow without uttering a word.
I creep over to his side of the bed. “Can we talk?Please.”
“What is there to talk about?” His voice is monotone. Not a hint of mercy. I knew he’d be mad, but I hadn’t considered he wouldn’t want to talk about it.
Taking a big chance, I lower myself down on the edge of our bed. Then, “Do you mind if I turn on the lamp?”
“Go ahead.”
I turn the switch and a soft light washes over his face. With his head on the pillow, gravity pulling at his cheeks and forehead, his lines are softened, and I could swear he’s thirty again. He’s one of those Robert Redford types, with sandy blond hair that never bothers to gray.
