That’s when I first started thinking of a plan.
28 MarionNow
By morning, I’ve slept only three hours and read the New Hutton Star article twice that amount. I’m a private person, a trait I no doubt inherited from my mother. The fact all the intimate details surrounding my pregnancy with Ava are out there for people to read upsets me. I resent the fact that Ava, still a small child, is already being thrust beneath a grueling spotlight.
And when I say intimate details, I mean it. There were facts in that article the journalist wouldn’t have gotten from a mere acquaintance. The fact I went through two rounds of IU before getting pregnant. The fact I drained my personal savings account to pay for the procedures. Sure, I guess a person doing enough research into the process could make assumptions, but reading the article felt more personal than that. These weren’t inferences. These were facts delivered by someone close to me.
I don’t believe Des and Carmen would sell me out; they’re my closest friends. They hid Mom’s cancer, but that seems more well-intentioned than sharing details about my life with the press. Besides, they’d never do that to Ava. Still, that paranoid part of my brain wonders, how far would Carmen be willing to go in order to create a distraction? Does Des have other reasons for wanting to defend Mom so fiercely?
And then there’s Evan. Some might consider his sudden return to North Bay suspicious. Worse than that, he’s back in my head, his words haunting me long after our conversation at the beach ended. There’s always been a part of me that hoped we might one day reconnect, even as friends. My decision to have Ava changed that, and Mom’s arrest has changed everything since then. I wonder if his return to North Bay is too coincidental. He was here, what, a day before Mom was arrested? And he’s been trying to contact me ever since. Maybe he still cares about me and wants to make sure I’m okay. But that paranoid part of my brain wonders.
I’m not only thinking about what Evan said concerning his return to North Bay. I’m equally bothered by what he said about Amelia. Evan, Des, Carmen—they all have their reasons for telling me to keep my distance from her, but none of them could even begin to imagine the dilemma I’m in. This woman—a stranger until last week—is my biological mother, and she’s suffered more than any person should. The fact we know so little about each other rules her out as the source; I’ve not told Amelia the circumstances of Ava’s birth.
Today will mark the first meeting between them.
I’ve made cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches for lunch. I’ve also made pasta salad using Mom’s recipe. I don’t realize until I’m arranging the place settings how bizarre that is. I’ve invited Amelia, my mother, over for lunch and am serving a recipe given to me by Mom, the woman who raised me. I’m not sure when, whether in my mind or otherwise, I’ll begin to separate these two women. If I ever will.
The doorbell rings just as I’m pulling a yellow dress over Ava’s head. I leave her in her crib to open the front door. Amelia stands on the porch holding a gift bag.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she says. “I wanted to give Ava a little something, seeing as I’m meeting her for the first time.”
“That’s so kind,” I say, taking a step back. “Come on in.”
Amelia walks inside, her eyes scanning the room just as she did last time. She’s still not comfortable around me, and it shows.
“I probably should have asked before buying a gift. I know some parents can be particular about that sort of thing. Don’t want their children being spoiled.”
“Really, it’s fine. I think it’s nice you thought of her.”
Amelia and I are still getting to know one another, but Ava is her granddaughter. It makes me happy that despite all the loss this woman has suffered in her life, perhaps she can begin a happier relationship with Ava and me. I understand why she is cautious of boundaries, but we can define those at our own pace.
“Should I go get Ava?”
Amelia nods and takes a seat on the living room sofa. Her breathing is controlled. She must be so happy to finally see Ava—a bonus after finding out I was still alive—but there is no way to prepare for something like this.
“Ava, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” I whisper, talking to her in that way parents do, with no expectation of response. Ava’s gnawing at her fist when we turn the corner, not even taking in the stranger sitting on our couch.
Amelia stands and slowly walks toward us. “She’s absolutely beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I shift my body forward, a silent signal to Ava it’s okay to be comfortable. We’re all friends here. Family, really.
“I see the resemblance,” Amelia says, reaching out and caressing the fabric of Ava’s dress. “She has your eyes.”
“That’s what everyone says.”
Ava’s still looking away, not actively avoiding Amelia, but also not engaging. Babies can be temperamental, especially Ava. It takes her time to warm up to people before she’s playful the way she is with Des and Carmen.
“Are you hungry? I made some sandwiches.”
We sit at the table, and I put Ava in her high chair. I can see how happy it makes Amelia to simply be close to her. I imagine, despite her worldly travels and grand experiences, this is the happiest she’s been in a long time. I feel happiness in return, knowing I’ve provided this for her.
“I must admit, when I first arrived in North Bay, it was a bit of a culture shock. The
