Chapter Twenty-seven

Then Mom asked, "Could you really love someone else's baby?"

"I held him. He felt like mine. He's awesome."

"I told you, newly borns are precious."

Chapter Twenty-seven

The Greyhound bus dropped me off at its depot in Grandview at two in the afternoon. The sky was sunny and bright blue. I took a taxi home.

Mom wasn't home when I walked in.

Bone-weary, kicking my shoes off as soon as I staggered into the house, I fell into bed, clothes on, and slept until eight the next morning. After I woke up, I wandered into the kitchen in a haze, rubbing my eyes, smelling coffee. I found Mom dressed in a dark-blue suit. She sat at the table eating a long john from Kroenfeldt's bakery with her coffee. The box sat on the table.

She smiled at me. "I thought you'd never wake up. Why didn't you call? Or leave a note when you got home? I knew you were here because I found your shoes in the living room. Where's your car?

"I didn't have time to call. And I didn't think about a note, I was so tired. Really, I didn't think about calling either—things were so crazy."

"I'm dying to know—boy or girl?"

I rubbed my face and sat down across from Mom at the table. "Boy. But I don't think you're a grandmother."

Mom's eyebrows jumped. "You don't think—what?"

I told her about Jodi's labor, her having the baby Caesarean, and my decision to take a bus home and to let Lois use my car. And that the baby had red hair. Didn't look anything like me. I finished with, "I took a DNA test. Just to be sure. A swab in the mouth."

Mom sat back in her chair and shook here head. "I can't believe this. I never thought it possible. I just assumed Jodi knew... She must feel terrible."

"I think so. Really bad."

"And you? You're relieved?"

I rubbed my face again. "I don't know what I feel. You get all geared up for something to happen—something that's exciting but at the same time something you fear—and all of a sudden it's over and it's not like you thought it was going to be...and you feel empty. I guess that's the way I feel. Empty."

Mom finished off her long john and her cup of coffee.

"There are more in the box," she said. "I'll get you a glass of milk." She shoved her chair back and got up from the table. "Maybe there's something I should tell you..."

"What?"

Her eyes swept over me. "It happened a long time ago." An odd expression crept over her face. Sort of a frown mixed with hesitation. "There really was no reason to tell you before."

"What?"

Mom poured me a glass of cold milk from the cartoon in the refrigerator and set the glass on the table. "Your dad and I met in college..."

My turn to frown. I knew they met in college. Why was she telling me this?

"...I became pregnant..."

Oh-oh!

This is something I hadn't heard before.

I leaned back in my chair.

"I intended to drop out of school, marry your dad, have the baby, and return to school whenever I could."

Staggering thoughts leaped into my mind. "You had the baby adopted? I have a brother or sister somewhere? You've kept this a secret, dad and you, all this time?"

Shaking her head quickly, Mom sat across from me again and pulled her chair close to the table. "The baby was stillborn. I carried it for seven months."

"Oh wow."

"The doctors couldn't tell me exactly went wrong."

"That's rotten."

"I'm telling you now because I want you to know I understand that empty, hollow feeling inside—especially after expecting an event that is both scary and exciting, all at the same time. And then there's nothing..."

"Exactly... Does the feeling ever go away? I mean, I still feel hollow inside because of dad's death."

"After a long, long time."

I sighed. I thought it awesome that my mom was sharing her experience with me, letting me know I wasn't alone. And maybe that's why she didn't get on my case so bad when I told her Jodi was pregnant. She didn't yell at me. She didn't scream at me. She knew how these things happen.

"I loved that child growing inside me," Mom said, "even though I never knew her—she was taken away from me but I still loved her."

"The baby was a girl, you had a name for her?"

"Susan... She would've been your older sister."

Matt—he could've been my youngest son, but he's probably not. And he'll be taken away.

Silence descended on us. I don't think Mom wanted to say anything more about Susan, and I didn't want to ask anything else. I was grateful she'd told me what she had.

"What did Jodi name the baby?"

"Matthew Travis Jackson."

"I like that. How much did he weigh?"

"I don't remember. The doctor told me...um, seven pounds, I think. A little more, maybe." I reached across the table and touched Mom's shoulder. She'd been through a lot. You've put her thought a lot, Michael. "Thanks for telling me..." I said.

Tears gleamed in her eyes. "It's all right. I...I just thought knowing might help a bit."

"It does."

Then I gulped a swallow of cold milk and bit into a long john with strawberry filling, a sprinkling of powdered sugar on top. Suddenly I realized I was starved. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten. I gulped more milk and devoured the long john in three bites.

"Are you disappointed?" Mom asked.

"I don't know, I think so...I mean, I finally accepted the fact that the baby was mine, and when I helped Jodi through labor, I knew for sure I loved her. And the baby. I mean, I felt it...really deep inside."

"And if it turns out the baby isn't yours—which apparently is most likely—will you love Jodi any less? Or the baby?"

I took only a second to answer: "No. Not at all."

"What about Luke? Will he take responsibility?"

"Probably not." I told Mom what I knew about Luke McAllister. "I don't think he'll want to be in the picture. But you can never tell."

We were silent again.

Then Mom asked, "Could you really love someone else's baby?"

"I held him. He felt like mine. He's awesome."

"I told you, newly borns are precious."

"I didn't even notice his red hair at first. But if the baby's not mine, I don't think Jodi wants me to be part of its life. Or hers. Even if Luke ducks out."

"She's setting you free."

"Right. I can chase my dreams."

I grabbed another long john. Took a huge bite. A big swallow of milk, emptying the glass.

"When's the last time you ate?"

"A couple of days ago, it seems like," I said with my mouth full.

Mom glanced at her watch. "I have an appointment at nine, but I can still make breakfast for you. We have bacon and eggs. How many eggs?"

"Three."

She popped up and went to the fridge. "I think you should be aware of all your feelings, Michael, all the possibilities before you walk away."

"I'm trying to."

"I'm not suggesting you should give up your scholarship. Or anything like that."

"I know..."

"Just be aware of your feelings. And be true to what you really want."

I nodded. "Where are you going this morning?"

"Our house might be sold," Mom said, pulling the eggs and bacon from the fridge, then closing the door. "I'm meeting with the realtor and a potential buyer." She set the eggs and bacon on the cupboard by the stove and got the iron skillet out.

I slumped a little. "Who's interested, someone local?"

"A couple from New York with two children, the Fredericks. The husband's with the government and has been transferred to the Arsenal. He thinks a place out of town with a few acres and trees will be good for the children."

"He's right. When do we get kicked out?"

"We're going to talk price this morning. If and when we agree, the buyer has to get a loan approved. All of this could take months. It's hard to tell." Mom turned the burner on under skillet. Dad always used it fry bacon and eggs for us on Sunday mornings. "Oh—I nearly forgot, your coach called yesterday."

"What did he say?"

"He said something about conditioning for the Shriners game. Two-a-days. Eight in the morning and four in the afternoon."

I peered at the clock above the sink. Eight-thirty.

Oh man! I hadn't even thought about football this morning.

"I told him you might miss today," Mom said. "You'd had to take a friend to Iowa City. An emergency."

"You tell him why?"

"No. And I said I didn't know when you'd be back."

I sat back in my chair. Licked the sugar off my lips with my tongue. Sorry, Coach. I missed the first conditioning session because I thought I was going to be a dad.

How's that for an excuse?

Coming Monday—Chapter Twenty-eight: Michael listens to advice from Coach Flynn and his buddy Oz. (Three chapters and an epilogue left)