The Midwife's Confession

deny that, and I saw my father’s torn-apart face. I quickly waved my hand in front of my eyes as if I could erase the vision that way. I’d go. I’d go into the lobby and ask someone to take a note to Anna Knightly. I’d just driven three hundred and eighty-two miles by myself on no sleep. I could handle a hospital lobby. I had to.

46

Emerson

Wilmington, North Carolina

The cafe was swamped. Even though it was a holiday, half the people in Wilmington seemed to have stopped by Hot! this morning. We’d run out of the raspberry-cream-cheese croissants I was becoming known for and Sandra and my waitress were having trouble keeping up. So I ignored my cell when it rang, not even taking the time to glance at the caller ID. Jenny was off from school, most likely lolling around the house, and I’d check my messages as soon as I had a break. But then the cafe phone rang and that I couldn’t ignore. Offices often placed their lunch orders in the morning to be picked up later, but I didn’t expect many of those calls on Columbus Day.

I grabbed the phone near the cash register. “Hot!” I said.

“Mom!” Jenny shouted in my ear, her voice raspy and frightened. “I have to tell you something.”

“What?” I carried the phone into the kitchen, alarmed.

“Please don’t kill me!” She sounded as though she’d set the house on fire. “I think Grace is on her way to find that Anna Knightly lady.”

I frowned, disbelieving. How could Grace—how could Jenny—possibly know about Anna Knightly? “What do you mean?”

“Tara called to say that Grace is gone. She took the car and Tara thinks she went to Chapel Hill, but I’m afraid—”

“Grace doesn’t even drive.” I felt so confused. I wanted to poke holes in whatever story Jenny was trying to tell me.

Sandra whisked by me with a tray of sandwiches and I stepped closer to the back door and out of the way.

“I called Cleve and he said he talked to Grace last night and she said she wanted to go to Virginia to find her mother.”

“Wait!” I had to stop her. “How could she—or you, for that matter—possibly know about her…about Anna Knightly?”

Jenny didn’t answer right away. “I heard you.” She sounded tearful. “I wasn’t trying to snoop, but I was coming downstairs when you and Ian were talking yesterday. And then I found that letter Noelle wrote. I went over to Grace’s and told her everything.”

I remembered the creaking sound from the stairs. Oh, God. I tried to imagine how devastated Grace had to have been. I pictured her reading Noelle’s letter to Anna Knightly. “You should have come to me with this, not Grace!”

“I’m sorry,” Jenny said. “But Grace had a right to know.”

“She may have a right to know, but, Jenny! We hadn’t even told Tara yet.”

“I didn’t think she’d, like, take off or anything,” she said. “Cleve said he thought he’d talked her out of going, but she was gone this morning and she’s not in Chapel Hill, at least not when I talked to him. So I think she’s on her way to find that woman!” Her voice rose to a fever pitch again.

“I need to get off the phone,” I said. “I’m going to Tara’s to tell her what’s going on.”

“Grace is such a terrible driver,” Jenny said. “If I thought she’d do something like this I never would have —”

“I know. I’ve got to get off.”

I hung up the phone and grabbed Sandra to tell her I was sorry, but she was going to have to take over for the next couple of hours. She gave me a frantic look, but she could tell from my face that there was no point arguing with me. In my car, I tried to call Ian before starting the ignition but his voice mail picked up and I imagined he was deep in his golf game by now. I was going to be on my own with this.

Yet when I pulled up in front of Tara’s house, I saw Jenny’s car parked on the street, Jenny waiting for me on the sidewalk in the misty rain. She was hugging herself, shivering, her arms tight across her chest, and I knew I was not going to be on my own with this, after all.

47

Tara

I heard the car door slam and ran to the front window, hoping against hope I’d see Grace walking up the sidewalk. But it was Emerson and Jenny, and as I watched them nearly run up to my front door, all I could think about was that they had horrible news to give me. The scenario was completely different, yet I had that same sickening feeling as I had the day the cop showed up at my classroom door to tell me Sam was dead. I knew the second I saw that young guy in uniform that something terrible had happened. I had the same feeling now.

I pulled open the front door. “What?” I called as they neared the porch. I felt the blood leave my face and the two of them swirled in my vision.

“We think we know where Grace is,” Emerson said as she stepped onto the porch.

“With Cleve?” I asked.

Emerson turned me to face the house. “We think she’s okay, Tara. Let’s sit down someplace, all right? We have a lot to explain to you.”

“What are you talking about?” I allowed her to lead me toward the family room. “Jenny, have you spoken to her? What do you mean, you think she’s okay? Where is she?”

“We’re sure she’s okay,” Emerson said more emphatically. She had her hand on my back and was guiding me toward the sofa. I sank into it. She and Jenny sat shoulder to shoulder on the love seat.

“Is she with Cleve?” I looked at Jenny, who shook her head, then lowered her eyes to her lap as though she couldn’t bear to look at me, which did nothing to ease my mind.