| Copyright © 2005, Laurie
Larsen Reviews For LEGACY OF LIES by Laurie Larsen Legacy of Lies offers riveting combinations of suspense and hope, love and betrayal, and the anguish of fear and desire. Well written and offering well developed three-dimensional characterizations who have a way of tweaking emotions, this story of pain and regret offers the reader a fully developed and intriguing read, one that transforms despair into triumph. -- Reviewed by Marie Knaus/Denise Clark Laurie Larsen weaves together a roller coaster family drama about adoption, guilt, and the search for the truth by former teen mother Penelope Livingston. This is a suspense-filled page-turner that reveals the spectrum of human emotions at work among the daughters, mothers, fathers, husbands and wives within this cross-section of families linked together by the birth of one baby girl so long ago. Catherine Kitcho, President, Hot Lava! Book Reviews at www.pelepubs.com "I
admire the plot and how each story strand of spaghetti intertwines with
the others making it a most interesting dish. I read it straight through.
Very enjoyable!!" Sample Chapter For LEGACY
OF LIES by Laurie Larsen
Twenty-five years ago “Go! Go faster! Oh my God, can’t you push this pile of junk any faster?” When she received no reply from her friend but a harried shake of her head, Penelope Livingston pried her attention back to the matter at hand. Her breathing. When had a perfectly natural act like breathing become so difficult? Puffing furiously, yet rhythmically, she managed to sneak a glance down—past her engorged breasts that had been sore to touch or even brush against, for every day of the last nine months—to her ridiculously enlarged stomach. Toting that load around, like she had for as far back as recent memory allowed her, caused a certain degree of difficulty in everything. Every little thing. Walking. Sitting. Lying down. Tying her shoes. Getting dressed. Eating. Breathing. Cursing the huge appendage that her stomach had become, she puffed in ragged, panting breaths. “I think you’re doing that wrong, Penny,” her friend Marsha, the driver, managed. Penny looked at her from the passenger side. “What do you mean? The book said to breathe.” “Yeah, breathe, but slowly. Long, cleansing breaths, to bring air into your system and slow everything down. Not pant like a dog in the summer, desperate for a bowl of water.” “What do you know anyway? You’ve never been pregnant,” Penny fumed. She continued panting quickly until she realized that her limbs were tingling, and she could see little fairies and stars floating in front of her eyes. Maybe the skinny chick had a point. With a Herculean effort, Penny stopped panting. For thirty seconds she held her breath, and then concentrated on slowly drawing air into her lungs, while absentmindedly brushing both her hands around the gargantuan lump of her stomach. Marsha looked over from the driver’s side. “That’s better. Do you feel it? Is it improving?” For a moment, it improved. Penny glanced at her friend with a look of dawning realization. And gratitude. She’d evolved. She had this childbirth thing down pat. All she had to do was relax. Breathe deeply. Calm down. And it would just happen, serenely, as it had for millions of women since the dawn of time. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” The scream was a primal outlash that was conceived in the base of her soul and expelled, unwelcome, from her mouth. “Oh my God, Marsha. It hurts so bad! The breathing ain’t cutting it.” “You’re in labor, Pen. I’m driving as fast as I can. Just concentrate on breathing slowly, and we’ll get there soon.” In a few minutes the pain was manageable again. The deep, slow breathing helped to calm her until the next gut-wrenching cramp hit her. “How do you know so much about labor anyway?” “I watched my sister go through it. I helped her until we got to the delivery room; then her husband went in with her.” As they passed a large blue sign with a white H, the pains returned and Penny screamed. “We’re passing a hospital, Pen! Why don’t I just pull in there? Why do we have to go all the way to Chicago General?” A tidal wave of agony warring inside Penny’s midsection made it impossible to reply. She panted and moaned, and after a few minutes, she could sit up straight again and form words. “That’s St. Mary’s. They don’t have free doctors. Only Chicago General will do the delivery if you don’t have insurance.” Marsha nodded. “It should only be a few more minutes. The good thing is, your baby decided to make its appearance in the middle of the night, and there’s hardly any traffic.” Penny’s stunned gaze shot to Marsha’s face. Marsha looked at her, her eyebrows forming a silent question. “Baby?” Marsha nodded and glanced back at the road. “You said the B word, Marsha.” “Yeah, Penny. Your baby’s coming today. Soon. Today’s the day, pal.” Another contraction delayed Penny from thinking of the inevitability of what today would bring. But once her uterus had calmed again, Penny drifted into silence and pondered her situation. She knew, obviously, that there was a baby in this monstrosity of a stomach. And she knew, even though she’d skipped the birth preparation classes at the hospital, that she’d be pregnant for nine months, and that she’d keep growing and growing until she looked and felt like she was a child’s overgrown soap bubble, ripe for explosion. She knew it wasn’t healthy to smoke or drink during the pregnancy, so she hadn’t. Much. She wasn’t a smoker anyway, but occasionally she’d had a drink when life had gotten a little too tough to deal with. She knew she should eat balanced meals, and she’d tried. As balanced as they could be, when her mother was out of the apartment before Penny even woke up, off to her first job of the day at the diner, leaving Penny to fix her own breakfast. At a time of the day when she couldn’t fathom sticking anything in her mouth that wouldn’t intensify the morning vomiting that had become a much-hated tradition. And by the time Penny was home from school, and should be eating a balanced dinner, her mother was off to her second job, placing telephone calls to people, interrupting their dinners, asking for money for this credit card, or that magazine subscription. So Penny had eaten when she was hungry, but hadn’t paid too much attention to the value of the food she stuck in her mouth. After all, what did a fifteen-year-old girl know about nutrition? Penny knew that at the end of this pregnancy, she would have a baby. But she avoided thinking about that part. Another contraction hit, and she moaned in pain, gasping at the spasm that seared her abdomen. Then it calmed, and Penny looked gratefully at her friend. Thank God for Marsha. They’d been best friends since Penny and her mother had moved into the apartment house six years ago. They had bonded immediately and been assigned to the same fourth, fifth and sixth grade classrooms, a happy coincidence they knew was Fate. In junior high they planned their classes together. By the time they were ready to enter high school, Marsha had come up with a plan to go to college. “I’ll need to take the upper level classes and do well,” she’d told Penny. “No more note passing and giggling through class.” Penny was crushed, but refused to let her know it. If Marsha wanted to abandon her, let her. As if their friendship had meant nothing to Marsha. Penny had no intention of going to school even a minute longer than she had to. She’d considered dropping out when she reached her sixteenth birthday, but Marsha had convinced her to graduate. But despite Marsha’s ambition and the unintentional wedge that drew between them, Penny soon realized that her friend had no desire of abandoning her. They still hung out after school, in the evenings and on the weekends. Marsha was still someone she could count on when it mattered. Like now, when she needed her the most. “Here we are!” Marsha sang. She pulled her car into the Emergency Room parking lot and ground to a halt. She was out of the car, had run around to Penny’s side and opened the door before Penny knew what was happening. They had to wait till the current contraction ended before Penny could manage getting out of the car. Penny resting heavily on Marsha’s arm, they hobbled quickly across the parking lot and through the big glass door, which flipped open automatically at their arrival. They stumbled into a small foyer. Another glass door stopped them from going any further. Feeling like a puppy in a pet store, Marsha darted a look around the glass enclosure. She spotted a guard behind a small glass window and tapped on it briskly. “Let us in! This woman’s about to have a baby!” Penny winced. There was that B word again. “Is she pre-registered?” the guard asked tiredly. Marsha looked at Penny, who shook her head in a daze. “I don’t think so.” The guard pressed a button and the glass door swung open. “You’ll have to go to Registration.” Marsha pulled Penny, bent at the waist and gripping her stomach, toward the area marked Registration. She helped Penny sink into a cushioned chair and sat with her in the waiting area. She patted her hand and helped her count through three contractions. They were definitely coming more quickly now, leaving Penny with less time in between to regroup. “Penelope Livingston?” They looked up and saw a young woman with a clipboard gazing expectantly at the small gathering in the waiting room. Marsha helped Penny to her feet and they walked warily across the way to the woman’s miniscule office. Penny bit on her lower lip through one particularly painful contraction and wondered how long this all would last before it was finally, thankfully, over. Marsha was beginning to look like she was going to leave, and Penny felt a rush of panic. Leave her here with no help to get through the next contractions? Her lip would be in shreds by the time she returned. “I’ll be right back, sweetie. You answer the lady’s questions, and I’ll be back before you know it.” Penny took a deep breath and nodded. What a helpless wimp Marsha must think she was. Maybe when this was all over, she’d actually care. * * * * Marsha pulled a quarter and a dime out of the front pocket of her blue jeans and let them chang-chang into the mechanisms of the phone. She dialed a number from memory and waited while it rang six times. Seven. Eight. “I know you’re home,” she murmured. “Pick up.” “Hel—oh damn.” The clattering in her ear told Marsha that Penny’s mother had dropped the phone. “Hello?” she recovered. “Hello? Who is it?” “Mrs. Livingston, it’s me, Marsha.” She cleared her throat and Marsha could picture her shaking her head to clear the cobwebs of being woken by a ringing phone at three in the morning. “Marsha? What’s going on?” “It’s Penny, Mrs. L. We’re at the hospital.” “Wh—what?” “We’re at the hospital. It’s time.” “Now? Where is she? Penny!” she screamed. “She’s not there, Mrs. L. She’s here. Her water broke in your bathroom at two o’clock and she called me. I drove her to the hospital.” “Wh—it’s time for the baby?” Marsha shook her head, frustrated. How long would it take this woman to wake up and figure out what’s going on? “Mrs. L, you want to come down here? Penny could really use some support.” There was a pause. “I don’t have a car, you know that. And city buses don’t run this time of night.” “Take a cab.” “Oh right, like I can afford a cab.” “Have you ever taken a cab, Mrs. L?” “Of course not. They cost an arm and a leg.” “They’re surprisingly affordable, actually. So are you coming out here or what? Your daughter’s going to have a baby. You’ll be a grandmother.” “No.” Marsha pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. Was it possible that she’d heard that right? She put the phone gingerly back to her ear. “Huh?” “I will not be a grandmother, Marsha. Penny is giving the baby up for adoption. She won’t even see the baby, and I won’t either. The last thing I need in my life is another child to take care of. It was just one big mistake. Penny knows it, and I know it. She’ll have the baby, and they’ll take it away. Immediately. And this whole thing will be over.” Marsha didn’t know what to say for a moment. “Okay, fine. But I’m sure Penny will be scared. Can’t you get down here and help her with the delivery?” The pause was so long that Marsha wondered if the line went dead, when Mrs. L said, “Yeah,” and hung up. Marsha found Penny sitting in a wheelchair outside of Registration. Marsha pushed her to the elevator doors and they rode up to the fourth floor. When they stepped onto the floor it was awash with brightness. Amidst the white hospital walls were big painted murals of pink and blue baby booties, rattles and bottles. Marsha smiled at the cheery sentiment until Penny gripped her stomach and moaned softly. A nurse approached. “Penelope?” Penny nodded and handed her some papers. The nurse accepted them and said, “Thank you. Registration let us know you were on your way up. Follow me, please.” The nurse led the way to a room that, Marsha knew, would be the birthplace of Penny’s baby. A television was screwed into the wall, a birthing bed with stirrups sat in the center of the room with a small bedside table beside it. Several chairs surrounded the bed, one, a rolling stool with wheels. Marsha helped Penny take off all her clothes and covered her up modestly with the hospital gown the nurse had provided. Penny’s stomach mounded uncomfortably under the cotton gown stamped with “Chicago General Obstetrics” in black ink. When the nurse returned, she efficiently inserted an IV needle in Penny’s left hand and attached it to a stand holding bags of clear fluids. “Now I need to do an internal exam, honey, to find out how far along you are,” the nurse said, as she slapped a latex glove on her right hand. The jab of pain surprised Penny, and she howled as the nurse invaded her. “Calm down, honey, I’m almost done.” Penny turned to Marsha and gave in to the tears that had been knocking at the door for an hour, agonized tears of a frightened girl experiencing the worst moments of her life. Marsha held her hand and put her face close to her friend’s. “It’s okay, Pen. Hang in there. It’s okay.” An hour later, the internal exam was repeated and the nurse announced that she was only seven centimeters dilated, and she needed to get to at least nine before she could start pushing. Marsha had no idea what to think, but she deduced that her friend’s misery wasn’t over yet, and there was no end in sight. Penny must have figured it out too, because she moaned weakly in the bed. Marsha rubbed her hand and went “shhh, shhh” in what she hoped was a comforting manner. “Pen? How about if I call Larry? He’d want to know.” Penny pushed aside the haze long enough to stare at her friend. “What? Who?” “Larry, Penny.” Marsha saw no light of recognition in her eyes, so she was forced to state the obvious, “The baby’s father.” “Larry O’Neill? He’s not a father.” Contraction pains delayed the conclusion of their conversation. The spasms were so close together now, it was questionable when the end of one was, and the start of another. In the brief moments between contractions, Penny said firmly, “No! Larry doesn’t even know I’m pregnant, Marsha, you know that.” “I know. But don’t you think he has the right to know? He helped you build this baby.” Penny screamed, probably not from labor pain at that moment, but from exhausted determination. “No! I only had that one night of sex with him. He is not a father! He has no need to know about this.” Marsha opened Penny’s hand and rubbed her palm soothingly. “Penny, you know as well as I do what happens after one night of sex. You can get pregnant. And you did, right? You’re going to have a baby and you’re the mother, and Larry’s the father.” “Shut up!” The terrified look in Penny’s eyes silenced Marsha more than the order. “Shut up! I’m having this, this, baby, and I’m giving it up for adoption. That’s it. It’ll be over. Some rich family will get the baby and raise it like it’s their own, and it’ll be much better off than it would ever be with me. But Larry is not a father and there’s no reason to tell him about this.” She grasped her friend’s hand and pulled her, with what seemed like a renewed strength, closer to the birthing bed. “Don’t. I mean it, Marsha. Swear to me.” Marsha noted the quiet desperation and found herself nodding her head in agreement. Thirty minutes later, the nurse had applied a new dose of painkiller in the IV tube and reacting to its power to calm her, Penny rested with her eyes closed. Marsha slipped out of the room and walked down the hallway, on the hunt for a vending machine. She could desperately use a Coke or a 7-Up. She didn’t find the pop machine,
but she found a payphone. She stared at it for a She hesitated, staring at the phone. She would leave it up to Fate. She believed in Fate, and she knew Penny did, too. She closed her eyes and stuck her hands in both front pockets. Tilting her head back so her face pointed to the heavens, she concocted a statement in her mind: if she had enough loose change in her pockets to buy a Coke, and still have enough left over for a local phone call, she would call Larry. If she didn’t, then it wasn’t meant to be. Fate would decide. She opened her eyes and dug greedily in her pockets. She had one dollar and twenty-five cents. The phone call was thirty cents. The Coke was fifty-five. So be it. Fate had spoken. She walked to the phone and pulled the city phone book out from its perch. She flipped to the O’s and scanned, her finger leading the way for her eyes. O’Neal, O’Neil, O’Neill. Ah, here we go, O’Neill on Halsted Avenue. That’s it. Marsha dropped the coins in the payphone and dialed carefully. “Hello?” An alarmed voice answered the phone. It was still much too early for a phone call, Marsha realized. Most normal people would be sleeping, pleasantly unaware of anything that was going on in a Chicago hospital across town. “Mrs. O’Neill? I’m sorry to wake you so early. I need to talk to Larry, please. Is he there?” There was a pause and Marsha could hear muffled talking, probably Mrs. O’Neill telling Mr. O’Neill that some girl was calling for their son at four in the morning. And deciding if their son needed to be awakened at that hour. If they woke him too early it might affect his ability to go to school and earn those straight A’s, or hit all those homeruns when his high school team played their rival that afternoon. Super jock, super brain. Every girl’s dream. “Hello?” His voice was hushed. Marsha wondered if his parents were close by, and if he would be able to talk freely. Of course, knowing Larry, as distantly as she did, he had a phone in his own room. She pictured him for a moment, propped comfortably in bed on two pillows, hands behind his head, whispering into the phone. With no shirt, and a chiseled, muscular chest. “Hello, Larry. This is Marsha, Penny’s friend.” “Marsha? Penny?” Marsha could see she was in store for another stimulating conversation with a half-dazed person. She heaved a deep breath. “Yes—do you remember Penny Livingston? From Central High? A sophomore? Stop me when that light comes on, okay?” “Yeah. I mean, yes. I remember Penny. But what I’m trying to figure out is why you’re calling me at four in the morning, asking me if I remember some girl I went out with a couple times, ages ago.” “You met her after your Homecoming game, right?” “Uh, yeah. I think so. Nice girl. Fun. Cute. But like, I said, why...” “You really want me to tell you?” “Well, you already woke me up, right? Tell me why.” Marsha took a cleansing breath of her own and blurted, “She’s in the hospital, about to give birth to your baby.” She had to give him credit. He didn’t scream. Didn’t pound the phone against the wall. Didn’t laugh. In fact, she was beginning to wonder if he was still breathing, or had even heard her. “Larry?” “Yeah, I’m here.” “Did you hear me?” “Of course I heard you. I just don’t know if I believe you.” “Well, I expected that. Let me tell you about that night, in case it’s slipped your mind. Penny and I go to Central High. You go to Eisenhower. A senior, right?” “Mmm-hmm.” “It was a Friday night. Penny and I were bored. Neither of us had anything going on, so we went to your Homecoming game. We watched you play. We watched you get beat up catching all those passes, then get creamed by the other team. Then we watched you leave the field when the game was over. Penny turned to me and said, ‘I want him. I want him to be my first time.’ I said, ‘Who?’ and she said, ‘That wide receiver. O’Neill.’ “I told her she was nuts. She didn’t even know you. But she was determined to meet you. We waited outside the locker room, and when you came out, she said ‘Hi.’” “Yeah, yeah, I remember. You don’t have to do the play by play.” Marsha ran her fingernail up and down the metal phone cord and listened to the scraping sound it made. “And you guys talked while I tried to make myself scarce. Then you asked her out for pizza. She wanted to go, and I made you promise that you’d get her home safely. You said you would.” “And I did. We went out for pizza, had a few beers in my car, and I got her home. Safely, like I said I would.” “And in the process, you also became her first. Didn’t you?” Silence filled the phone line. Either he didn’t remember, or he wasn’t saying. “Yeah, I guess.” “Well, fast forward nine months later, till tonight. A little bit of life, created by you and Penny, will be making its entrance any minute now.” “No, wait a minute!” Larry’s voice sounded urgent, angry almost. “Hold on. I saw her several times after that. I called her. We talked. We went to a movie. I was really digging the girl. I wanted to see her more.” “I remember. She was crazy about you. You’d have thought she was in love. You’re all she talked about.” “Then all of a sudden, nothing. I called, she wouldn’t answer the phone. She never returned my calls. I stopped by her apartment a couple times. Nothing. So eventually I gave up. I figured she’d met someone else and didn’t want to face me.” “Well, now you understand the sudden disappearance act.” “Huh?” Was the guy really this dense? Or could she still blame the early hour? “She got pregnant with your baby, Larry. She knew you’d be bummed, to say the least. You, the All-American football and baseball-playing jock, National Honor Society, already accepted to Northwestern University. And daddy. Now, that would put a damper on your plans, wouldn’t it?” Marsha heard his breath quicken. “How do I know? No offense, but how do I know it’s my baby?” Marsha sighed. “Let me ask you a question. Could you tell it was her first time?” Another pause, and Marsha imagined him thinking back to that night, then nodding his head slowly. “Yeah, I could tell.” “Okay, and when was your Homecoming weekend?” “Last weekend in September,” he replied without too much thought. “Okay, let’s count nine months together, shall we? And what is today’s date?” “Smart ass. I know it’s June seventeenth. That doesn’t mean anything. She could’ve...” “You said yourself that you dated her for a while, what, a few weeks—after your night together. And that was less than nine months ago. But she would’ve had to be a busy girl, to meet someone else, get pregnant by him, dump your ass, be pregnant for nine fricking months, just so that on this night I could call you at four in the morning to tell you you’re the father!” She hadn’t meant to raise her voice. The poor guy had every right to question this paternity. But it was not a usual night for her, and she was tired and grumpy. “Okay. Well, I don’t know. But what’s she going to do with the baby?” “She’s giving it up for adoption.” “Why didn’t she have an abortion?” “For one thing, she has no insurance. For another, she was scared to death something would go wrong. So she dropped out of your golden life so she wouldn’t burden you with this child, and went about her pregnancy all by herself.” “Don’t give me the attitude—what was your name? I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t even know about it.” “Sorry. And it’s Marsha. You’re right. You knew nothing about it. Now you do. So are you coming to the hospital?” By the time she hung up, she was pretty sure he’d come. At least he knew about the baby, and where Penny was. If he didn’t come, he could live with that on his conscience the rest of his life. When Marsha returned to Penny’s room, it was action time. She was fully dilated and ready to push. Marsha pulled the rolling stool beside Penny’s head and talked to her quietly, counted through the episodes of pushing, allowed her to claw the hell out of her hand till Marsha had four crescent-shaped slashes in her palm, and slipped spoonfuls of ice chips on her tongue. At times she felt that Penny wouldn’t survive. The pain was too deep a chasm to ever climb her way out. Marsha remembered hearing stories of women dying in childbirth. She wondered frantically how many of those women were a mere fifteen years old. * * * * The cry of the newborn child, who had fought its way through a claustrophobic tunnel of wet warmth, and was smacked with the bright artificial light and chill of the real world, was a joy to all in the room. The baby screamed, and the adults felt relief that the delivery was over, and the baby was healthy enough to show anger at its new surroundings. “It’s a girl,” the doctor announced and held her up momentarily. Then the nurses shuttled her off to a corner of the room to cleanse and wrap her. Penny wrenched her neck, but didn’t even get a glimpse. Just as well. It wasn’t her baby anyway. The delivery room quickly became a beehive of activity. Someone stitching up Penny’s vagina, it had ripped a little during delivery. Someone offering her a drink and urging her to get up as soon as she could and go to the bathroom. Another small group hovering around the baby in the corner. “Would you like to hold your baby when she’s cleaned up?” “No. I don’t want to hold her.” The nurse gazed at her strangely, then understanding dawned. “Are you giving her up for adoption?” Penny nodded briskly and tears popped into her eyes. “I understand, dear. I’m sure you’re making a good decision. Your baby will be very happy with her new family.” Penny nodded, then cursed to herself. She had hoped that she would be able to have the baby anonymously. She hadn’t wanted to know the sex of the child. She didn’t want to gaze into its eyes. She didn’t want to catch a glimpse of it. She’d planned to deposit the baby, recover, and leave. Just like that. Move on with her life, this chapter over. Marsha, thank God for Marsha. If she’d ever doubted the loyalty and strength of their friendship, Marsha had proven it tonight. Where was she? She’d been by her side through the whole horrible ordeal. The room was slowly quieting as the doctor and nurses figured she no longer needed any care. They were done with her—check another one off their list. And since she didn’t want to see the baby, she assumed they’d taken her off to the nursery. Babies didn’t need their mothers this early on. She’d be fine until her real mother could get here. She just wanted the hospital staff to handle it from now on, and she would just phase out. “Penny.” She was expecting Marsha. Or possibly even her mother, if Marsha had gotten word to her. But this voice was unmistakably male. Another doctor? Through a haze of exhaustion, her eyes followed the direction of the sound. Wow, she must really be out of it. That face that she’d dreamed about and remembered so many times in her mind since the first night. Larry’s face. She was dreaming about him again. Well, she’d give herself a break. She probably had every right to dream about him, this night of all nights. Boy, did he look real though. He leaned over her while she lay, and he seemed so close that she could reach out and touch the whisker stubble on his chin and his cheek. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes. She could detect the masculine scent of him. His hair had been mussed and it appeared that he’d thrown on a t-shirt and a pair of khaki pants. Those drugs they’d given her sure provided clear daydreams. “Penny? You did good. You should see the baby. She’s beautiful.” Penny’s eyes flew open. Daydream or not, this was too real for comfort. Without thinking, she flailed her hand in the air, an unintentional fist formed. It made contact and punched him in the jaw. “Ow!” he shrieked, surprised. Penny sat up in her bed and looked at the flesh-and-blood man gingerly rubbing the side of his face. It was Larry O’Neill. “Jesus, Penny. What’d you do that for?” He stepped closer to her again, wary of another unexpected assault. “Larry?” She had to be sure. He nodded and looked at her, his eyes searching for the truth in her eyes. She jumped to her feet, and shrieked with pain as the IV needle flew from its resting spot in her hand. She rubbed the sore area briefly, then unrestrained, she charged at him like a wild boar and used both fists to pound on his chest. “What the hell are you doing here?” He stood his ground and matched her volume. “Is that my baby? Tell me the truth, Penny. Is that really my baby?” “No!” Penny turned her back to him and paced the room. “It’s someone else’s then? Someone else is the father?” Larry looked at her cautiously, not sure if he could believe the answer, whether it was yes or no. “I’m giving it up for adoption, Larry. It’s someone else’s baby. Someone else will be its mother, and someone else will be its father.” Larry grunted softly and grabbed Penny by her shoulders. “That’s not what I mean, damn it, and you know it! I know we made love once. Did you get pregnant because of that? Am I the father of that baby?” He stared into her eyes and she reluctantly stared back. She couldn’t help it—those gorgeous blue eyes had been her undoing nine months ago, and if she could allow herself to sink into them just one more time, on this, the worst night of her life, it would make up for the agony and pain that had become her world for the last few hours. But as glorious as it felt to lose herself in his uninterrupted attention, it was a mistake, because in their unfettered gaze, he saw the truth. She couldn’t deny it. She turned away from him, but not before he got his answer. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, walking away, but turning back when she reached the end of the tiny room. “It’s over now. You couldn’t have wanted a baby any more than I did. I did the best I could. I gave that baby a place to grow for nine months. Now it’s out. And some family who really wants him can have him. He deserves that.” Larry caught up with her and took her shoulder, gently this time, and urged her to stop pacing, to sit on the edge of the bed. “Her. It’s a her, Penny. A girl.” Penny nodded her bowed head, letting the tears fall freely. “I know. I just didn’t want to know.” “And she sure is beautiful. We made one hell of a baby.” Penny stopped sniffling. He couldn’t see her face because of the way her long hair fell in front of it. But she let her quietly controlled voice emerge from the curtain of hair. “What did you say?” “I saw the baby. She’s in the nursery, behind that window. They pointed her out to me. Our baby.” Anger reached a boil in her and her mind exploded like a searing hot teapot. “No! That’s not our baby! That’s not my baby! Or your baby! They had no right! They had no right to show you or anyone that baby!” She pounded her fist again and again into the bed until Marsha rushed into the room and sheltered Penny’s body with her own, embracing her from the back, and rubbing her hair. “It’s okay, Pen. It’s okay.” “I want you to do two things, Marsha.” Penny stared at her friend with desperation in her eyes. “First, get him out of here. He shouldn’t be here. I want him out!” “Okay, Pen. Okay.” Marsha looked at Larry and made a gesture with her thumb. He nodded and left quickly. “And I want you to make sure the paperwork for the adoption is done. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to deal with it. I just want it over. If I need to sign something, I’ll sign it.” “Okay, honey. I’ll do it.
Right now. Will you be okay if I leave you now?” * * * * Marsha left the room and saw Larry standing helplessly in the hallway. “What was her second command?” he asked. “She wants me to take care of the adoption papers. She doesn’t want to see the baby at all; she just wants it to be over.” Larry nodded. His chest lodged an ache he’d never felt before, and it wasn’t from where she’d hit him. “Is there a family already arranged to take the baby?” Marsha shook her head. “No. Penny’s been in major procrastination mode about this whole thing. I guess she figured if she did nothing, it might go away. But guess what? It didn’t. Maybe it can now.” Larry stared at Marsha. A nurse passed them and Marsha asked her, “Excuse me. Who do I see about adoption?” The nurse said, “Come with me. I’ll take you there.” As Marsha prepared to follow the nurse, Larry said, “Marsha, why don’t you let me take care of that? I feel awful that Penny never let me in on this. This is the least I can do, to arrange the adoption. I’ll feel like I did something, at least. Why don’t you go in there with her and take care of her?” Marsha gazed at him for a second. He sure was a handsome guy. She knew why Penny had fallen so hard for him. And it seemed that he accepted that the baby was his. He would have to deal with this the rest of his life. Maybe arranging the adoption would provide some closure for him. Who was she to stand in the way of that? “Okay, Larry.” Marsha turned to return to Penny’s room, while Larry followed the nurse. |