Mary
“My, everything looks so clean,” I said.
Rachel jumped. I guess she hadn’t heard me come up the stairs.
“Oh, my. I didn’t mean to startle you. I came to ask if you wanted to have lunch with me.”
“Oh, Mary. You’ve done so much already.”
I waved. “Nonsense. I have to make something for myself and making enough for two is no trouble at all.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I figured we’d eat in the dining room. I haven’t used it in a long time and it’s always been one of my favorite rooms.”
We walked into the room and Rachel turned around in a circle. “I can see why. It’s beautiful.”
I smiled. “Yes, I always loved the wooden panels and crystal chandelier hanging over the double pedestal mahogany table. I bought that table and the matching buffet and hutch after James and I got married.”
“Seems like an awful big house for two people,” Rachel said.
I nodded. I considered whether to tell Rachel about James and why we never had any children. In a way, I thought that if she knew what happened to me maybe she wouldn’t feel so all alone, like she was the only one who had bad stuff in life to deal with. But it didn’t seem like the right time to divulge a family secret that I’d spent years keeping. So instead, I told her about my visit to the NICU as we ate the salad I’d prepared.
“And Jax’s head was no bigger than a naval orange. He was the most darling little thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Wow,” Rachel said. “Twenty-four weeks is really early. Weren’t you scared?”
I jabbed my fork into my salad, a mix of spring greens tossed with fresh strawberries, sliced almonds and creamy goat cheese with a light vinaigrette dressing. “Yes. I was very nervous. But the nurse showed me what to do and I just sat there for the longest time holding him in my arms.”
“Sounds like you would’ve made a wonderful mother,” Rachel said. “You never had any children, right?”
I thought about how I’d lied on the ob-gyn form for years, and I didn’t want to lie anymore.
“Actually, Rachel, can I tell you a secret? Something only three people in my life knew, and now they’re all dead.”
Rachel took a deep breath. “Sure. I mean, if you want to.”
“Well, I feel like I can tell you and you won’t pass judgment. Besides, I’ve carried this old secret around for so long. Its roots are so deep and tangled inside of me that it would be good to uproot it.”
I began telling Rachel about Teddy. “I never loved anyone as much as I loved him.”
“Even your husband?” Rachel asked.
“Yes. I never loved James and he never loved me. Ours was a marriage of convenience for both of us.”
“So, why didn’t you marry Teddy?”
“I wanted to, but my parents sent me away.”
“Away?”
I nodded. “I became pregnant with Teddy’s child. When my parents learned about the pregnancy, they sent me away to live in a maternity house. My father had arranged a private adoption. Teddy never knew about the baby and my father made me write a nasty Dear John letter to him. I was forced to say awful things in the letter that I didn’t mean.”
“That’s terrible, Mary. So you never saw your baby and you never had any more?”
“That’s correct. I learned James couldn’t father children, which was fine with me. He promised we could adopt, but that never happened.”
“Why?” Rachel asked. “It’s obvious how much you loved children.”
I debated whether to tell Rachel the reason why I’d dropped my desire to adopt but decided perhaps I’d already said enough. “That’s a story for another day. Are you ready for the second course?”
Rachel loved the watermelon soup I’d prepared and by the time I served the tilapia both of us were full. “I guess I sort of overdid it,” I said.
“I’ll at least try it,” Rachel said.
I watched as Rachel took that first bite, waiting for her reaction.
“I like it. It’s mild. Doesn’t taste fishy. I hate when fish taste fishy. Is it hard to make?”
I shook my head. “It’s quite simple, actually. You just bathe the fillets in lemon juice and melted butter, season with garlic and parsley and bake.”
Rachel took another bite. “I can’t eat anymore. But everything was delicious.”
“Thank you. I enjoyed cooking. I’ll pack up the leftovers and you can take them home for you and Piper. Oh, and I also made a special dessert for Piper, something I saw in a magazine at the doctor’s office.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Rachel said. “But thank you. I’m sure Piper will be over the moon about the dessert. She seems to have a real sweet tooth.”
I smiled. “Good. And I’ll also pack up the dessert I made for lunch since you’re too full to eat it now.”
“Mary,” Rachel said. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you for the lunch, for being so kind. I’m not used to having someone care about me.”
I reached over and touched Rachel’s hand. “You deserve to be cared for.”
“But I’m here to work, to help you.”
“And you are,” I said. “That doesn’t mean I can’t feed you.”
“No, but it doesn’t mean you have to feed me, either. I don’t want you to think I expect it.”
I sipped my water and then dabbed my lips with my cloth napkin. “Can I tell you something?”
Rachel nodded.
I sighed and made a sweeping motion with my arm. “I’ve had everything I’ve ever wanted. The best clothes. The best house. More money than I could ever spend. But the one thing I’ve wanted most has always eluded me. I can’t buy it, or trade for it, or even steal it. It’s a gift that has to be given, not something I can take. Do you understand?”
Rachel looked like she was about to cry. “I think I’m beginning to.”