“Whoa, Grace.” Natalie came into the room in a rush. “That’s none of our business. Whatever was between Mom and Dad was just that. Between them.” She touched her mother on the shoulder, and when Maggie turned, Natalie drew her in. “Mama, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about how this would hurt you. I acted like the worst kind of brat, and I’m so embarrassed I could die.”
“Oh, honey.” Maggie hugged her, and Grace could tell both her sister and her mother were close to tears once again.
“Oh, please. Natalie, you have nothing to apologize for. But Mom, you have some explaining to do.”
“Grace. For God’s sake . . .” Natalie turned on her.
“Nat, I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to Mom. She owes us an explanation.” Grace was aware she sounded like a shrew, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her whole life she’d believed her parents had had this fairy-tale marriage, this once-in-a-lifetime love. She’d always wanted to be just like her mother—her hero!—but never felt she measured up. She’d believed her mother was pretty damned near perfect. Apparently, her perceived perfection had been a figment of Grace’s imagination. Watching her mother fall off her pedestal was more than disappointing. It was excruciatingly painful.
“Thank you.” Maggie held Natalie’s hands, then said, “Pour yourself some wine and join us. Grace is apparently determined to re-create the Inquisition, so you might as well fortify yourself.”
“Mom, you don’t owe us an explanation.” Natalie reached across the island for the wine.
“Grace obviously believes I do.” Maggie directed her gaze to her elder daughter. “Let me preface this by saying I don’t believe I owe you anything. My life is my own, just as your life is yours. And if I recall correctly, recently you needed a hefty dose of understanding after your life imploded. I was more than happy to be there for you, Gracie. Apparently, it’s too much to ask I be given the same respect and understanding I so willingly gave you.”
“Mom, it’s not the same. It’s—” Grace began, but her mother cut her off.
“It’s my turn, Grace. You want to know how come I never told you I’d had a child before I met your father? You want to know about the baby I wasn’t permitted to keep?” Maggie was speaking softly, so softly Grace had to lean in her direction in order to hear her. “I was eighteen, my senior year, when I got pregnant in the spring. The old cliché of prom night . . . well, it doesn’t matter. My boyfriend and I had been together for three years. We planned to get married after college. There was never a doubt in my mind that would happen. I loved him more than I can say. Even now, forty years later, I know I loved him with my whole heart and soul. And he loved me.” Maggie took a sip of wine, then took another before proceeding.
“When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted nothing more than to keep my child. But my parents were adamant I give the baby up for adoption. My boyfriend agreed—I’m not letting him off the hook. The three of them were relentless. My parents didn’t want to have to deal with the embarrassment. My boyfriend didn’t want his football career to suffer. He had plans to play professionally, which he did.”
“Your high school boyfriend played professional football?” For some reason, this sounded incredible to Grace. “Seriously? Who’d he play for?”
“What does it matter? Geez, Grace.” Natalie shot her a dirty look. “Go on, Mom.”
“So the end of August came around and my friends all took off for college. I pretended I was going, too, but I was really going to spend the next few months living in a cabin in Maine my mother’s brother owned. He only used it in the summer, so he let us move in until after the baby was born.” Maggie paused. “I don’t think my mom told him why she wanted to stay there. We stayed in Maine until the baby was born, and a few weeks after, because I was such a wreck. My mom stayed with me, but once I went into labor, my dad flew up to be with us. And the day after I gave birth, my boyfriend came to the hospital.” She smiled sadly. “It wasn’t exactly a happy reunion.”
“Mom, I can’t even imagine what you felt, having to leave your child behind. That must have been horrible for you.” Natalie had tears in her eyes.
Maggie nodded. “There are no words to express how painful.” She glanced across the table at Grace. “You want to know why I didn’t tell you? Why I didn’t tell your father? It wasn’t because I thought he’d be angry or because I was afraid he’d stop loving me. Your father was one of the kindest people I’ve ever known, and he loved me unconditionally. I didn’t tell him because it hurt too much for me to talk about it, to say the words out loud. I wanted to tell him, believe me. I thought about it a thousand times, rehearsed over and over what I’d say. But every time I tried, I couldn’t get the words out. Because it hurt too much that I’d given my baby away.”
“And I made you say it. I threw it in your face and made you say it. I don’t know how you could ever forgive me for putting you through this, Mom.” Natalie’s face was white with anguish.
“It’s all right, Nat. It’s out in the open now. And if we look on the bright side, we could say you brought me the answer to a prayer I’ve held inside for forty years. It means everything to me to know my son is alive, that he sounds happy. He says he’s had a good life. What more could I ask for, under the circumstances?”
“I still think you should disown me.” Natalie
