Screwed. - Part 15
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Part 15

Another knock on the door, and Jennifer marched in. "Your study buddy just called me, so I ditched school and here I am."

Not wanting to admit that she hadn't thought once about her best friend these last several hours, now Grace was glad she was here. "Hi," Grace moaned as another contraction tore through her body.

"h.e.l.lo, Mrs. Teitelbaum. Nice to see you," Jennifer said, doing a little curtsy. There was something almost regal about the little old lady who was wearing her signature pearls with her pale blue velour tracksuit.

Helen smiled. "You too, dear. Thank you for coming, and I'm sorry I didn't call you myself. I left my list at home."

"No worries. You look like s.h.i.t, babes," Jennifer said, turning back to Grace, taking in all the wires and beeping machinery.

"Thanks. You always know just the right thing to say to make me feel better." It hurt too much to laugh, but Grace was grateful for the distraction.

"So when do you have to do the magic trick?"

"Magic trick?" Grace asked, thinking she had misheard through the veil of pain.

"Yeah, when do you have to push the watermelon out of your - "

"What's the matter with you? Is my entire life just an excuse for you to make jokes?"

"Pretty much," Jennifer deadpanned.

"Well, I'm not fully dilated yet, but Dr. Weston said when I feel an uncontrollable urge to push, that means I'm ready."

"Yeah, I read in that baby book it's like taking a giant dump," Jennifer said.

Grace cleared her throat and looked meaningfully at Helen, who was smiling into the pages of the New Yorker. "Do you always have to say exactly what you're thinking?"

"Just trying to find the humor. I can see you want to laugh."

"Yes, that's exactly what I feel like doing right now," Grace grunted as her entire body stiffened with another contraction. "Owww, I feel it, I need to push! Helen, I think it's time. Please get Dr. Weston."

Helen jumped up. "Jennifer, press that red b.u.t.ton. I'm going to find the doctor," she ordered as she sprinted out of the room.

"She moves pretty fast for an old bag," said Jennifer. Seeing the pain and fear in Grace's eyes, she said, "Hold my hand. We're going to get through this. Whatever you do, don't push. Otherwise I'm going to be the one catching the bean, and that would not be good."

A minute later, Dr. Weston dashed in, followed by a breathless Helen. "It sounds like someone's ready to have a baby," Dr. Weston said.

"Yes, right now. I need to push, so bad," Grace panted. "It hurts like crazy. I can't hold it in. Please let me push so the pain will go away."

"Okay, let's just have a look," said Dr. Weston as she slipped on latex gloves and lifted the sheet over Grace's legs. "Yes, ma'am, that baby is on her way. Mrs. Teitelbaum, and Grace's friend, do you want to help?"

"That's why we're here," Jennifer said. "What do we do?"

"Grace is going to push hard, and you're going to hold her feet so she has something to push against. Like this," said Dr. Weston, demonstrating.

Helen, tears already gushing, and Jennifer got into position as Dr. Weston stood at the end of the bed. "All right, young lady, it's all you. Take a deep breath, hold it, and push from your bottom, like you're having a bowel movement, for ten seconds at a time. Don't make a lot of noise - it just wastes your energy."

Grace nodded, desperate to get on with it. She had been afraid she wouldn't know what to do when the time came, but the need to push was so primal, so natural, it was as if her body had been programmed.

"Go," ordered Dr. Weston, and as Grace pushed, Jennifer slowly counted to ten. "Okay, rest. You're an excellent pusher. This isn't going to take very long at all. Are you ready? When you feel the next contraction, go with it."

Pleased that Grace had risen to the occasion, Dr. Weston looked up at the clock. This delivery would be over before one-thirty, so she would be able to make it to her own daughter's parent-teacher conference. Sometimes it was possible to juggle everything and have it work out.

"That was excellent. When you feel another contraction, do it all over again," Dr. Weston said. "You're so close, Grace. Just hang in there a little longer."

Eyes wide, Jennifer couldn't believe what she was seeing. The top of a tiny bald head was emerging from between Grace's legs. Every smarta.s.s comment she had been considering vanished, and she stood bracing Grace's foot, for once speechless, mesmerized by what was happening in front of her. It really was a miracle.

Certain her eyes must be popping out of her head with the effort, Grace held her breath and pushed. As painful as it was, feeling as if her body had split down the middle, it was an incredible relief to push. Suddenly Dr. Weston said, "Stop! Her shoulders are out. Don't move. You're almost done. There. Now one tiny push. Good girl!" Dr. Weston, knowing that Janet Olson and the adoptive parents were waiting outside, wanted to focus more on Grace and less on the beautiful baby she was holding. "You've given birth to a healthy baby girl," said Dr. Weston as she handed the infant off to the nurse. "Terry's going to clean her up. Do you want to hold her for a minute before she goes?"

It was all happening so fast. Nine months of uncertainty and aggravation had crawled by, interminable days that she thought would never end, but now time seemed to accelerate. Grace just wanted to freeze this moment, so she could think clearly, figure out what to do next.

"Yes, I want to hold her," she blurted out.

Helen and Jennifer had backed away and stood against the wall, watching quietly as Grace nuzzled the tiny blanket-wrapped bundle, no bigger than a bag of flour. "Sweet baby, I love you, forever and ever," Grace whispered into the pink seash.e.l.l of an ear.

For a fleeting second, Grace couldn't imagine letting go of this precious creature who for so many months had been her traveling companion. Molly's deep blue eyes stared into Grace's, as if she understood exactly what was happening and didn't want to miss anything. Was it possible that on some deep, almost cellular level a newborn infant could internalize and remember something that happened when she was only a few minutes old? Although Grace knew that Molly wouldn't consciously recall this moment, she was comforted by the belief that her words were somehow imprinted on her baby's brain. However tenuous the connection between this mother and child, no matter how much physical distance separated them, there was a bond that would endure.

"Okay, Grace, it's time," Dr. Weston said softly. "You're doing the right thing, and you're going to be fine." Blinking back her own tears, the doctor took the baby from Grace's arms and placed her gently in the Plexiglas ba.s.sinet with the small sign that said Baby Girl Miller.

Janet came back in, holding the folder that contained the piece of paper that would dissolve Grace's legal connection to Molly. Glancing at the living baby doll in the ba.s.sinet, her heart weeping just a little bit, she said, "It's time to sign, Grace. Are you ready?"

Grace nodded quickly, knowing that if she thought about it too long, she would never be able to do it. Her hand shaking, Grace scribbled her signature on the line. It was done.

CHAPTER 22.

Dear Baby Girl, I just said h.e.l.lo and goodbye to you, and it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, even though I know it's the right thing for both of us. It's only because I love you so much that I can let you go, because I know that you will have a better life with your new mommy and daddy than I could give you right now. I'm not much more than a kid myself, and I'm not able to give you all the wonderful things you deserve. It would be selfish of me to try. Someday I hope you can understand that, and I hope that we can meet so I can explain it to you in person. In the meantime, please forgive me for not being ready for you, for ever giving you a moment of doubt about who you are or where you came from. Just know that you are loved by so many people, most of whom you will probably never meet.

With more love than you could ever imagine, Grace Exhausted from the physical and emotional effort of the last twelve hours, Grace dropped the pencil and paper on the thin white blanket. It was over. Her baby was gone, and she was at once relieved and bereft. She wondered if this child would be able to understand what she'd done, would be able to love the mother she might never meet. Grace pictured herself, decades from now, sitting in a coffee shop, waiting to meet her grownup daughter who had decided she was finally ready to see her biological mother.

The door opened slowly, and Charlie's head appeared. He had been sitting in the maternity ward waiting room the entire time, watching people come and go with balloons and flowers, all celebrating the arrival of a new family member.

"I didn't knock in case you were sleeping." Curled up in a tangle of white sheets, Grace looked small and pale, like a sick, frightened child.

Grace shook her head and the waterworks began. Just seeing his forehead wrinkled with worry and hearing his gentle, low voice was enough to set her off. Dr. Weston had warned her that the hormone fluctuations that followed birth would make the emotional rollercoaster of pregnancy look like a kiddie ride. She wasn't joking.

Grace wept for all the things she had lost: her innocence, her self-respect, her old life, and her parents. In spite of the bitter words and the months of silence, Grace still ached to feel her mother's arms around her, and having experienced firsthand how strong a mother's love was for her child, she felt the pain of losing Betsy's love that much more acutely.

Charlie tenderly kissed Grace's forehead. It was finally time to start over. Molly was safely in the arms of her new family, and Grace was once again just Grace. Practically since the day he had met her, Charlie had been waiting for this moment.

Not sure what was the right thing to do, Charlie climbed onto the bed and enfolded her quaking body in his own. A few hours ago Grace had said goodbye to her baby. There were no words to comfort her after such a loss, especially when his entire frame of reference consisted of watching a couple of seasons of 16 and Pregnant and Teen Mom on Netflix, so he just whispered shushing noises in her ear, as if she were a baby herself. There were so many things Charlie wanted to tell her, about how strong and special she was, but Grace was in no condition to listen. What a shame that Mr. and Mrs. Warren weren't here to witness how extraordinary their daughter was. But as Helen said, there would be plenty of time after the big event to help put this jigsaw puzzle of a family back together.

Finally Grace's breathing slowed, and she whispered, "Thank you. I'm okay now." Charlie reluctantly sat up and handed her a box of tissues.

"How do you feel?" That was a stupid question.

"Physically? I feel pretty good, considering. I still don't know how she fit."

Charlie couldn't help cringing at the thought of the actual giving birth part. At his age, he still thought that part of a girl's body was for recreation, not procreation. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Not at all. Since I'm not nursing, they drugged me up. By tomorrow I'll be sore, but I'm glad I feel numb all over right now." Grace took a sip of water and leaned back against the pillow. "As hard as it was to give her up, it would have been much worse if my brain weren't so fuzzy from the pain medication."

"Do you wish you'd kept her?" Even as he said it, he realized that it was none of his business. But he was curious. The baby had been a part of Grace for so long that no matter how sure she was that adoption was the right thing to do, she must feel as if she were giving a part of herself away to strangers. Charlie had wondered if there was a chance Grace would change her mind and keep the baby, and what that would mean for him. Without a second's hesitation he knew he would love Grace whether or not she had given up this baby for adoption, and he would love the baby too, as hard as that might be at first.

"No," she said, without hesitation. "How could I compound my stupidity by putting my emotions before my daughter's well-being? Molly didn't do anything wrong, and even though I love her, so much, that's just not enough. She deserves two parents to love her and care for her, and now she has that."

"You're the bravest person I've ever met, besides Aunt Helen." Charlie really meant it. At seventeen, Grace had been through more than many people in their entire lives. "Your parents may have made a lot of mistakes along the way, but they must have done something right for you to turn out the way you did."

"I think you're kind of biased," Grace said, her pale cheeks turning pink.

"Maybe a little bit. Are the Millers going to call her Molly?"

"I didn't tell them about my private name for her. Maybe I'll tell her about her womb name if I ever meet her. Mrs. Olson told me they're calling her Cady, C-A-D-Y. In French cadeau means gift, and they said that's what she is. I think it's perfect."

Having said goodbye, maybe forever, to her first child, Grace could feel her sense of normalcy slowly returning, even though she knew her life could never go back to the way it was. With the baby out of the picture, it was time to pick up the pieces of her life, but Grace couldn't believe that she would simply be able to stroll back into the cla.s.sroom, as if she'd been out for a couple of months with mono.

"It's a beautiful name." And you're beautiful, Charlie wanted to say, but as desperate as he was to get close to her and tell her how he really felt, he realized that declaring his undying love, effectively hitting on her a few hours postpartum, was probably bad form. "Can I get you anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you want something to read?" Helen had said to be there for Grace, however she needed him, and he was determined to

do that.

"I'm fine. You look so worried. I'm really fine. The doctor said I can go home tomorrow," Grace said, thinking again how lucky she was to have met this astonishing boy. All by himself, he had managed to restore her faith in the entire male gender.

"What about your parents? Are you going to call them now that things are almost back to normal?" Charlie selfishly didn't want Grace to make up with her parents right away, because that meant she would move out of Helen's house. However, if that was what she wanted, what she needed, he would do anything he could to make it happen.

"I don't know what to do, so I'm not doing anything right now."

"Sounds reasonable. Do you know what the date is today?" Charlie was beyond excited, but he didn't want to show it, just in case Grace's news wasn't as good as his had been.

"It's April first. I may be loaded with painkillers, but I know the date. What perfect irony that I gave birth on April Fools' Day." Would Molly Cady think that was funny when she was older?

"That's not what I was talking about. Besides being April Fools' Day, April first is also the day colleges send out their letters."

"Oh, s.h.i.t." Between contractions and handing her baby over to a couple of strangers, the last thing Grace had been thinking about was where she would be going to school the following year.

"I got into ...." Charlie started to say.

Grace cut him off. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know. We applied to some of the same schools, and I don't think we should tell each other where we got in or where we plan on accepting. We don't want to make a decision for the wrong reasons, do we?"

When she and Charlie were comparing their college lists months earlier, Grace had fantasized about going to the same college, but after they ended up applying to almost all the same places, she started to worry that she might want to follow him because he made her feel safe, and he might want to follow her because she needed taking care of and he was clearly someone who, like his aunt, had a habit of taking care of people, and it all started to feel incredibly co-dependent and psychiatric, rather than heartfelt and romantic, all before a single acceptance letter had been sent. Her greatest fear was that Charlie would come to resent her for compelling him to stay by her side because she was emotionally dest.i.tute, a virtual orphan, and not because they were madly in love with each other.

Shutting him out was exactly the opposite of what Charlie had thought Grace would do. Apparently the vibes he thought she'd been sending, especially after that night in her bedroom, were merely his own desperate longings reverberating back onto himself. Whatever had pa.s.sed between them while she was pregnant must have been nothing more than a happy collision of hormones and romantic lighting. But it had felt like so much more. He would have bet anything that she still cared about him.

Stifling his overwhelming disappointment, Charlie said flatly, "Okay, whatever you want. I brought my laptop if you want to check."

"Thanks."

Surprised and disappointed that Charlie didn't protest her plan to keep it private - if he had put up any fight at all, she would have given in. If Charlie really cared about her, was truly in love with her, as she hoped, wouldn't he insist on knowing what her plans were and sharing his own? Grace needed him to show her how much he wanted to be with her, that he would push and shove his way into her life, even if she seemed determined to keep him at arm's length. It was a test, and tests were stupid, because sometimes people failed them, like now, and Grace was left with information that didn't suit her purposes or expectations. Clearly he wasn't that into her. But it wasn't as if she hadn't misread boy signals before. It was nine short months ago that she actually thought that the coolest kid in school had fallen in love with the co-captain of the math team. Talk about missing the boat. Her people sense had clearly not improved during her pregnancy.

Clicking on each e-mail, Grace bit her lip so that her face wouldn't betray her emotions, which would have been elation, as all six schools had accepted her. Looking up at Charlie, who had been watching her intently, as if he was trying to read the screen's reflection in her eyes, she said, "Okay then."

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

"So you're really not going to tell me what happened?" Still not ready to believe, not wanting to believe, that Grace was pulling away so suddenly and completely, Charlie asked, "And I'm not allowed to tell you where I got in?"

"No. After we send back our acceptances, then we'll tell each other, but don't you think you should decide where to go based on what you want, not what I'm doing?" Grace wished Charlie would beg her to tell him where she'd gotten in. She wanted him to tell her that he loved her and needed her and couldn't imagine being away from her. She wanted him to be the person she thought he was the moment she met him.

"That's what I'd planned on doing. Did you think I was just going to follow you wherever you went, like a dog?" In truth, he would follow her to the South Pole, in a heartbeat, but that was a revelation better saved for when they'd already been married a few years.

"No, of course not, but you might without even realizing it. I know it would affect my decision process if I knew a close friend was going to one of the schools I was considering." As long as she was testing him, she might as well go all the way. If her instincts were right, he was three seconds from throwing his arms around her and shouting out where he was going

to college.

Flinching at the word friend, Charlie replied, "Well, I'm not like that. I haven't worked so hard for so long to pick a school just because my friend is going there."

He could give as good as he got, even though he knew he was being childish, and if he were a real man, he would just tell her how he felt. Well, maybe not everything, but at least the part about wanting to be more than just a supportive friend, now that Grace could go back to being a teenager again. But pride makes people stupid and shortsighted, and Charlie Gla.s.s was no exception. This conversation was not going well at all, but he lacked the maturity and nerve to try and steer it out of the ditch it was fast approaching.

"Hey, chica!" Without even knocking, Jennifer bounced into the room, nearly hidden by an enormous vase of flowers. "Sorry I'm late, but I wanted to give you two kids a little time alone together," she said, giving Charlie the evil eye. "So, how's everything?"

Still not certain she had heard what Charlie said, or more to the point, what he hadn't said, Grace turned to Jennifer. "I'm good. Thank you so much for being here. You were a huge help."

"That's what best friends are for, right? Holding your foot so you can push a baby out of your encyclopedia. Truthfully, it was the most amazing experience I've ever had. I should be thanking you for letting me be there." Turning to Charlie, she said, "You don't know what you missed, Chuckles. Next time, maybe she'll let you hold her foot."

Turning three shades of crimson, Charlie said nothing, just cleared his throat. His pa.s.sion for Grace was apparently obvious to everyone but Grace.