The Midwife's Confession

were moving too fast for me. I had the feeling that everything was spinning out of control.

Ted walked toward me where I stood between the living and dining rooms, a drink in his hand. He rubbed my shoulder. “Nice job, Em,” he said. “You holding up okay? I know you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“I’m fine.” I smiled at him. At least, I hoped I was smiling. I had no idea what I was doing. I felt drugged by exhaustion and anxiety. I hadn’t slept at all the night before, and when I’d told Tara that afternoon that I wanted a nap, it had been a lie. I’d only wanted to get away from her. I couldn’t look at her. It was like knowing your best friend was going to die very soon and you could do nothing to stop it and nothing to warn her.

I was kicking myself for digging into Noelle’s past. For not tossing out that carton of cards and letters like Ted had suggested. I could still do it. Throw away the letter, the articles, the record books. I could make this nightmare go away. All I had to do was keep my mouth shut. But I knew I could never live the rest of my life with this secret.

Grace and Tara had arrived early so that Tara could help me put the finishing touches on everything. There’d been a sheet of ice between the two of them and I sensed Tara’s frustration over not being able to break it. Obviously, Grace hadn’t forgiven her for… What had Tara done? Thrown away Sam’s mug? Oh, that felt like such a small thing. Such a tiny, inconsequential thing. Yet Grace was still angry. She’d barely said hi to me before running upstairs to Jenny’s room, while Tara met with the caterer and the bartender and I moved woodenly through the house, pretending to be busy.

Now the kids—Cleve, Jenny and Grace—were all upstairs. They’d put in just enough time with the adults to be polite before disappearing. Jenny was sniffling with the hint of a cold, but seemed otherwise fine, though I knew she was upset Devon wasn’t there. He was traveling with his family for the long weekend. Cleve had grown even more handsome in his month and a half away from home, if that was possible. But it was Grace I’d had my eye on, of course, as I examined her features, searching for a trace of Tara or Sam in them. She looked beautiful. I’d never thought of that word with regard to Grace before. Adorable, yes. But beautiful? Yet her strapless red dress hugged her body perfectly. It wasn’t provocative, but it exposed the gentle slope of her small breasts and Cleve’s gaze kept darting in that direction. Her hair was a thick, sleek curtain of silk down her back, and she was wearing smoky eye makeup. Not too much, but enough to alter her features. Her eyes had always been unusual. They were brown like Tara’s, but when you looked closely, you saw that they were filled with jewel-like splinters of jade. Whatever clever thing she’d done with her makeup tonight made her eyes seem greener than ever.

Suddenly, she didn’t look like Grace at all and I was upset as I tried to find the girl I loved in this new young woman. I used to think I could see Sam in her, more in her mannerisms than in her facial features. She had that same shy smile that had seemed affable and warm on Sam but made Grace look unsure of herself. Seeing her insecurity as she tried to talk to the adults at the party, the ones she didn’t know well, tore at my heart. This girl was part of us and we loved her. We’d raised her, all of us. There was no way we would let her go. No way I could allow Tara to lose her daughter right after losing her husband. She wouldn’t lose her, would she? Certainly not physically. Grace couldn’t be taken away from her mother at the age of sixteen. Although, what did I know about the legalities of such a bizarre situation? I didn’t know, and that scared me. On top of that, I thought of how Tara would feel when she realized that the baby she’d given birth to had died. What had Noelle done with that baby? I didn’t want to think about that baby girl, forgotten and unmourned.

I could keep it all to myself, I thought again. Reveal nothing. Grieve for Tara’s baby alone. Keep the truth about Grace to myself. Yet even as I considered making that choice, I was searching the rooms for Ian. I needed to share this burden with someone who cared about Tara—and I knew Ian did. Someone who’d understand the legal implications.

I spotted him chatting with Tara and a few other people in the dining room and I kept my eye on him until he moved toward the makeshift bar, where I was able to corner him alone.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” I said.

He raised his eyebrows. “About your conversation with Angela?” he asked.

“Who?” For a moment, I couldn’t even remember who Angela was. “Oh…no. It’s something else, but I can’t talk about it here. Could you stop over tomorrow sometime? Early afternoon?” Ted would be showing houses and Jenny would no doubt be out with Devon or Grace.

“Can it wait, Em?” he asked. “I’m going out of town tomorrow night and I’m a little swamped.”

I shook my head, and he must have seen the tears beginning to well in my eyes.

He touched my arm. “All right,” he said. “I’ll be there.”

“And please don’t mention it to Tara.” I glanced nervously over my shoulder at the partyers in the room, hoping I wasn’t being overheard.

Ian was frowning. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” I stepped away from him, letting myself be pulled back into the throng. There, I thought. A decision. Finally.

Yet I felt no relief at all.

37

Grace

Cleve was different. How could somebody change so much in a month and a half? Seriously. He even looked different. When he walked into the party with Suzanne, I felt like I didn’t know him. I was sure he was taller and his face was a different shape or something. He walked right over to me, though, and gave me a hug.

“You look great,” he said, and the one thing that hadn’t changed at all was the way he smelled. I wanted to hold on to him and just breathe.

After staying at the party for a while, Jenny, Cleve and I all went upstairs and hung out in the bonus room talking. It felt almost like it used to when we were all just friends, except that I was having trouble thinking of things to say. Jenny and I showed him the stuff for the babies program, including the layette bags I’d learned how to make, and he said it was cool we were doing that but I could tell he was bored. He talked about school a lot and he’d totally gotten into basketball and the Tar Heels.

“I want to go to UNC,” Jenny said. “Chapel Hill would be so cool.” She and I were sitting on the futon, our shoes off. My dress was fine for standing around in but definitely not fine for sitting and I kept having to tug the skirt down and the top up. Jenny’s dress was loose and really cute, but she looked terrible. She was getting a cold and her voice croaked and she had a bunch of tissues wadded up in her hand.

“You can’t get into Chapel Hill if you don’t have a clue what you want to do with your life, Jen.” Cleve was sprawled out on the beanbag chair. He’d picked up one of the pacifiers from the baby stuff and was tossing it from