Maybe she owed him an apology? Had she been too defensive and overly protective? That, of course, was her job as a mother but the fallout from the photos wasn’t too bad. She got a few requests for interviews, but politely declined. Barbara thankfully fielded any other requests that came through the hospital switchboard, and had the same advice as Bella: “Don’t worry, dear, tomorrow you’ll be yesterday’s news.”
It was this kindness, this newfound sense of camaraderie, of allowing herself to relax, that made the phone call catch Maeve off-guard.
It came as she was walking to get a coffee in her break.
Dadflashed up on her screen as she was standing waiting for the machine to fill the cup.
Suddenly, every muscle in her body tensed. She was back at nineteen again. Terrified. Her fingers trembled as she took a moment to steel herself and pressed answer. “Hello.”
“Maeve,” came her dad’s voice, so familiar yet equally that of a stranger. “We’ve seen the photographs.”
No,How are you. No,How’s Zoey. No,Is this a good time to talk.
She pulled out a chair and sat down. The view from the break room was of the gray concrete car park.
“I’m going to be honest, we’re more than a little disappointed,” her dad said.
Maeve wondered if that was what he’d said when he found out about Zoey—it was all a bit of a blur.
She heard her mom in the background saying, “Very surprised.” Which her dad relayed. “We’re very surprised that you didn’t think to tell us yourself and we had to find out like we did.”
Maeve saw herself sitting in the living room of her parents’ house, perched on the couch. She could picture the golf clubs by the door, the two dogs wagging their tails excitedly that she was back, feel the tearstains on her cheeks. She remembered the drowning terror at having discovered she was pregnant, the nerves of having to tell them. Not knowing what to do, what was best, and wishing someone would support her, put their arm round her and say, “It’s okay, Maeve, we’ll help you.” But instead, they said the very same things they were saying now…
Embarrassed. Shocked. Lack of judgment. Daughter of ours.The words went in like an IV line.
But this time, as they spoke, she found that the words didn’t hit quite as powerfully as they once might. She looked up and saw her reflection in the window—professional, scrubs, hair neatly tied back, nametag, stethoscope. This person wasn’t a pregnant teenager. This person had survived. More than survived—she’d thrived.
She heard her own words—her grandma’s words—about pride, and admitting one’s mistakes, drown out her father’s.
She heard Brodie at Logan’s house as he’d leaned across and tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “I think your parents are fools.”It made her do a little snort of unexpected laughter.
On the other end of the phone, her dad paused for a second, “Did you just laugh, Maeve?”
“No,” she lied.
Her mom said, “Is she laughing?”
“No,” said her dad and carried on. Always talking, never listening.
Maeve thought how far away they seemed. Not just in distance, but in everything. Especially when compared to Martha—even Emmett—embracing Zoey into their family, no questions asked. “You’re missing out,” she said, cutting her father off.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, you’re missing out. You have a grandchild. Do you not see?”
“That’s not the issue here, Maeve.”
“Of course that’s the issue!” It came out louder than she intended.
“Please don’t get hysterical.”
She almost laughed. She could never win.
Suddenly the shrill sound of the pre-alert call came from the ER which meant a critically ill patient was on their way. It meant, all-hands-on-deck.
Maeve opened her mouth to say that she had to go, that she’d call her dad back, but then, instead, she took the phone away from her ear and looked at it, heard his voice like a tiny mouse coming through the speaker.
Out in the hallway she could hear people rushing. It occurred to her in that moment that she had already won. She had Zoey. She looked around her, she had this, she had the Carters. She had people in her life whowantedher to succeed, who were on her side.
