‘I nearly did, but then I heard the heartbeat, and I thought about Grandma. I don’t think she’s going to live long, and she deserves to see one great-grandchild.’
Mom was sombre for a moment but then said, ‘You won’t be on your own, honey, you’ve got me,’ and we hugged. I was overwhelmed with relief, because I knew the horror stories about how young unmarried Irish women and girls were sent to ‘homes’ run by nuns and forced into unpaid labour, their babies stolen from them and sold to infertile couples.
Mom came with me to break the news to Grandma. It was the five-month anniversary of my sobriety, and I was now very visibly pregnant, no longer able to hide my belly behind colossal handbags and loose-fitting sweaters. Grandma’s face twisted with dismay, but I was calm and explained how out of control my life had been, and that I was going to do right by my child. By the time I finished, her eyes were glassy with tears, and she reached out with her one good hand. I took it in mine and she squeezed it tight. She tapped her wedding ring insistently, and for a few minutes I thought she was urging me to get married until I realized she wanted me to wear it. I took it off her finger as gently as I could and put it on to mine, and she smiled her half-smile and closed her eyes.
Mom broke the news to Dad and told him the father was unknown. Dad was aghast but once he had calmed down he said the child would be a blessing. I was very lucky to have the support of both parents under the circumstances.
Erin wanted to see me. I wondered if Mom had pushed her or if Erin was coming voluntarily. She was shocked by the news of my pregnancy. I hadn’t seen her in over a year. Though we had talked on the phone a few times, we had not spoken since I got sober. I owed her an apology that I was never going to be able to make. I was nervous about seeing her.
Mom was delighted. She hosted a big welcome dinner for her. I made cannoli, which were still hard to come by in Ireland. I left out the Marsala wine. Cannoli were one of my cravings and I’d got the recipe down to a fine art. Grandma was able to come outfor the day from her care home. When we went to collect her, she was up and dressed and her hair was freshly washed. I applied some lip balm to her dry lips and sprayed her with her favourite perfume. The side of her face that could move lit up. She put her good hand on my belly and the baby kicked right then, like she was saying hello to Grandma. Grandma was happy. She held my hand, rubbing her old wedding ring that I was now wearing.
It was a surprise for Grandma that Erin was going to be at Mom’s. Erin didn’t talk much. I felt that she was uncomfortable being the centre of attention. She tried to be cheerful, but I knew her well enough to know it was a pretence. We got through the dinner with small talk, making up names for the baby, joking about the fact that at least we wouldn’t have to consult the father’s side of the family. Grandma did not find that funny. She slammed her good hand on the table. It was easy to forget that she was fully alert – there was nothing wrong with her hearing. After dinner, when we propped her up on the sofa, she made noises and glances that I knew meant she wanted Erin and me to come sit by her. She reached for both our hands and put them in her lap, and I suddenly realized what she wanted. She wanted me to tell Erin what I had told her, that Milo never raped me. I jumped up and went to the table, beginning to clear things away, and ignored the noise Grandma made when she was calling my name.
‘Ruby?’ Erin said. ‘I think Grandma wants you to say something.’
I held up my glass of sparkling water. ‘I’ll make a toast to all the strong, fabulous women in our family here today.’ Mom gave me a funny look, and Grandma’s mouth remained downturned.
That night back in my house, when Erin and I were alone, I asked Erin if she was dating anyone. The long-held tears spilled from her eyes. ‘How come you’re okay?’ she asked me.
‘Okay? I’m a twenty-three-year-old alcoholic single pregnantdrama student thousands of miles from home with few friends. What makes you think I’m okay?’
‘But you seem … happy? Like, you’re over it.’
I didn’t have to ask her what she meant byit.Erin and I had not spoken of Milo in years now. ‘I try not to think about it. I’m not going to let the actions of one man on one day ruin my life.’
‘He ruined mine too.’
‘Oh, Erin.’ I felt bad for her. ‘You should try to forget about him. Put yourself out there. It’s been over six years.’
‘I dated one guy, Charlie, but he tried to control me. I trusted Milo with my life, and I feel guilty.’
It never occurred to me that Erin would feel guilt. ‘He loved you.’ I blurted the words.
‘No, he didn’t,’ she answered, her voice quaking with anger. ‘A man doesn’t rape the sister of a girl he loves. But that’s how easily we can be fooled. How can I possibly trust another man?’
‘They’re not all like that,’ I said quietly.
‘Right? The father of your baby is a fine, upstanding guy, is he?’
‘Erin, my life has been a train wreck for the last few years. The only thing that is keeping me upright is Alcoholics Anonymous. But I know there are good men out there.’
I thought of Milo, who had never put a foot wrong, who had adored Erin and had only ever tried to protect me from myself. She’d had a good man who was spending yet another summer in prison because of my lies. The nausea I felt wasn’t only because of my baby. I had tried over the years not to imagine what Milo’s life might be like, but on this night, sitting with the love of his life, it was unavoidable. Erin was acing her exams as usual. She was looking for an internship with a publishing house in New York, hoping to be an editor. She had the smarts to do it. And she was still stunningly beautiful. It shocked me to see her lack of confidence.
I had a sleepless night, not helped by my baby kicking the hell out of me and having to get up to pee every hour. I could hear Erin crying in her room as I passed. What was I feeling? Was this guilt tinged with glee? My sobriety was being tested. I had no booze in the house and all the pubs were closed, but there were nightclubs. I could slip out without her knowing. But who would serve a heavily pregnant woman on her own? I dug deep. I recited the mantras in my head: ‘Easy does it’, ‘One day at a time’, ‘This too shall pass’. None of them helped me in this situation. But then the baby kicked again. Hard. And that is what stopped me leaving my sister in distress in the middle of the night to go looking for drink. Instead, I went to comfort Erin.
‘None of it was your fault, Erin. Nobody blames you. Look,’ I smiled, holding my belly, ‘baby agrees.’ My little girl kicked again to confirm.
Erin looked at me. ‘You don’t blame me?’
‘I never blamed you. Not for one second. I’m sorry, Erin.’
I did blame her, but not for the reasons she thought.
‘You have nothing to be sorry for,’ she said.
She had no idea. Nobody realized what a good performer I was.
26
