Even Now (10 page)

What? No new number is . . .
Gradually, like the slow collapse of a line of dominoes, the floor began to fall away beneath her. She gripped the receiver. The recording was still playing. “— you’ve reached has been disconnected. No new — ”

Her mother had lied to her. There was no other explanation. They’d disconnected the old number, the one Shane knew, and they’d intentionally left no new number. The reason was as shocking as it was obvious. Her parents didn’t want her talking to him. They’d moved her to the suburbs, and now they were preventing phone contact.

Lauren was on her feet. She slammed the receiver down. “Mother!” Her voice boomed across the house. “I need to talk to you!”

In the other room, her mother’s laugh stopped short. “Lauren . . . I’m busy. Can’t it wait?”

She stormed through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the den. The decorator was watching, eyes wide. Lauren glared at her mother. “I need to talk to you right now.” Her tone was angry and just barely controlled. She stepped back into the hall and headed for the kitchen. Then she spun around and waited.

Her mother whispered something to the decorator Lauren couldn’t make out, then she slipped into the hallway and locked eyes with Lauren. Her mother should’ve been angry. After all, Lauren had interrupted her in the middle of a business meeting, with a tone of voice that would never have been acceptable in the past.

But as her mother walked toward her, her eyes didn’t hold a bit of anger. They held concern and anxiety and fear. Most of all, fear. Her mom waited until they were inches apart, then she folded her arms. “Are you in labor?”

“Do I
look
like I’m in labor?” She snapped the words. Her voice was still a little too loud, but she didn’t care. “This isn’t about me, Mother. It’s about you.” She pointed to the telephone on the desk behind her. “I called our phone number, our old one.”

Her mother looked at the phone and then back at her. The fear in her eyes grew. “And?”

“Oh, don’t act surprised.” She wanted to scream. It was all she could do to keep her tone somewhat controlled. “You know exactly what I’m about to say.”

“Lauren, watch how you talk to me.”

“You don’t sound very convincing.” She studied her mother’s eyes. Who was this woman standing in front of her? All her life her mother had been her friend, her ally. The first one to listen and lend a bit of advice when her girlfriends ganged up against her at different times during her school years, or when a certain teacher gave her a hard time. But ever since she got pregnant, her mother had worked against her at every turn. Her mother and father, and Shane’s parents, too.

Her mother shifted her weight. “Maybe you could tell me what you’re talking about.”

Lauren let out a small scream. “Don’t
do
this! You know what I’m talking about. Stop lying to me!” She clenched her fists. “You didn’t leave a forwarding number on our old phone. If Shane tried to call me since we moved, he would’ve gotten nothing, no new number, no clue how to reach me.”

“What?” Her mother walked around her to the phone. She picked up the receiver, dialed a series of numbers, and held it to her ear. After several beats, she looked at Lauren and set the phone back down. “No forwarding number.”

“Yeah, and you knew that.” Her anger was growing with every few words. As she spoke, another wave of tightness seized at her middle. She winced and pointed at her mother. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t, Lauren. I promise.” Shock filled her voice, and she was suddenly indignant as the implication took root. “I told your father to put the new number on when he disconnected the . . . ” Her voice trailed off and she turned slowly to the phone. “I told him . . . ”

The tightness was worse now, stronger than it had been all day. “You’re saying Dad did this, that you had nothing to do with it?” How could she trust her? How could she believe either of them? “What does it matter? The two of you are determined to tear us apart. I should’ve run off with Shane.” She was yelling now, the truth settling in around her heart.

Her mother shook her head, her voice softer than before. “I swear to you, Lauren, I didn’t do this.” She picked up the receiver again. This time she punched in fewer numbers. After a moment she said, “Yes, this is Mrs. Anderson. I need to talk with my husband, please.”

Lauren had heard enough. What did it matter whose fault it was? One of her parents had kept their new number off there cording so they could separate her from Shane. With her head spinning, she ran upstairs to her room.

Only then did the first real pain grab her. It ripped across her middle and dropped her to the edge of her bed. She bent in half, trying to survive it. When it passed, she eased herself onto the mattress and set her head on the pillow. It was too soon for the baby, but the pain that had just hit her sure felt like the real thing.

She stared at the ceiling, red hot anger flooding her veins. How could her parents have done this? They’d betrayed her, and now how would she get hold of Shane? In the distance she could hear some of what her mother was saying.

“But I thought you’d leave the number, Bill. Lauren’s very upset about this and now she thinks I did it on purpose and — ”

Another cramping pain hit, hard and sure. She rolled onto her side and drew her knees to her middle. Every breath was a struggle until finally the hurt let up. That’s when she knew for sure. These were contractions, and if they were coming this close, she might be in labor.

“Mother!” She shouted as loud as she could. Her mom was at her side in a few minutes.

“Lauren, your father meant to leave the message, but — ”

“I’m in labor.” She panted, trying to catch her breath. “It hurts so bad.” Another pain hit, and she yelled out loud. From downstairs she could hear the decorator gathering her things and shouting a good-bye. There was the sound of the front door shutting behind her, just as the contraction let up.

“We need to get you in.” Her mother helped her to her feet, made a few phone calls, and in thirty minutes they were at the local hospital. The plan had been to have the baby in Chicago, at the hospital they were familiar with. But they had no time, and the staff at the local Central DuPage worked quickly to get her into a delivery room.

“She’s been in labor for quite sometime,” the doctor told them. “The baby’ll be here within the hour.”

Lauren was scared and angry and worn out. She could barely breathe as one wave of pain after another rocked her. She tried to concentrate on the doctor’s words. What had he said? Within the hour? How was that possible? Her due date wasn’t for two weeks, and until she figured out about her parents’ lie, she’d felt fine. Now she was breathless, the pain radiating up through her chest and around to her back. She couldn’t begin to sort through her emotions. Shane was completely out of touch, and she would be a mother in an hour. All that, and the fact that her parents weren’t on her side.

Her mother touched her elbow. “I’ll stay here, honey. Your father’s on his way.”

Lauren moaned. She wanted to tell her mother to leave. If she really cared she’d help her find a way to reach Shane. But the next contraction was already on her, and she couldn’t talk. A memory flashed through her mind. She and her mother at a baby shower for a neighbor. Lauren had been maybe thirteen years old.

“What if I don’t know how to have a baby, I mean when it’s my turn?” She’d turned to her mother, genuinely anxious about the idea.

Her mother had squeezed her hand. “I’ll be there for you, Lauren. I’ll tell you what to expect, and I’ll help you through it. You’ll be just fine.”

That’s how their relationship was before she got pregnant. Now, here she was, going through the very thing that had frightened her. Yes, her mother was with her, but not really. Their relationship was strained and tense, as if the woman beside her wasn’t her mom at all, but someone who only looked like her.

“Are you okay?” Her mother pulled a chair up next to her. She crossed her legs and leaned closer, concern written in the lines of her forehead. “Do you need anything?”

“Yes.” Lauren was between contractions. She ran her tongue over her lip and locked eyes with her mother. “Shane.”

Her mother didn’t ask again.

The doctor’s prediction proved to be right on. Exactly fifty minutes after arriving at the hospital, with only a mild amount of medication for the pain, Lauren gave birth to a six-pound, three-ounce baby girl. The moment the doctor held the baby up, tears flooded Lauren’s eyes. This was her
daughter
, her child. A part of her and of Shane. She covered her mouth and shook her head, amazed. “She’s . . . she’s perfect.”

The doctor smiled, and in the next chair, her mother was crying too. For some reason Lauren was bothered by her mother’s tears. Was she crying because this wasn’t how things were supposed to go, or because she was too young to be a grandmother? It was an instant that would never come again — the birth of her first child. It was a time when her mother’s emotion should’ve been joy, not pain.

For Lauren, of course, the tears were joyous, but they were also filled with sorrow. This was her daughter, a fair-skinned beauty who would forever be a part of her, a part of her life. But Shane should’ve been here, beside her, seeing their daughter for the first time. How long would it be before he knew about her, before his parents would let him fly back to Chicago to see their little girl?

That night, her parents took turns holding the baby and spouting the types of things first-time grandparents were supposed to say. “She has Lauren’s chin . . . she’s perfect.” Or, “Look at those blue eyes!” Her mother was no longer crying. Instead, by the time they were ready to head home, her parents were upbeat, promising to return in the morning.

No one said a word about adoption.

When they left, Lauren held her daughter close against her chest. As terrible as it was that her parents had been trying to keep her from Shane, at least they weren’t going to force her to give her daughter up. She studied her little girl’s face. “Hi, sweetie. Mommy’s here.”

The baby squirmed a little, her eyes never veering from Lauren’s. “You need me, don’t you, little one?”

The precious child in her arms trusted her with her entire being. Lauren had no idea what she was doing, no clue where they would go or how they would find Shane again. But they would find him. They would go to him as soon as they could. She owed Shane that much.

By the end of that first night, she’d given the baby a name: Emily.

Now she would press her parents to do everything in their power to help her find Shane. Then they could figure something out so that they could be a family sooner than later. Little Emily needed her daddy too. In the glow and marvel of those early hours of being a mother, Lauren would’ve walked barefoot to California with Emily in her arms if it meant finding Shane. If her parents weren’t going to help, she would find him on her own. She stared at her ring and brought it to her face, brushing it against her cheek.

Whatever it took for the three of them to be together. The way they should’ve been now.

The way they would be forever.

L
auren was determined: she was going to find Shane.

Every day that passed, her resolve grew stronger. She would find him, and she would do it soon. The baby was four weeks old by the time she felt strong enough to take the subject to her parents. It was after eight o’clock on a Monday night the first week of August. Lauren had rocked Emily to sleep and tucked her into her crib. Now she padded down the carpeted hallway toward her parents’ den. They often spent time there after dinner. The room had a full-size patio door that led to a covered porch. It was one of the nicest spots in the house.

She was almost to the door when she heard her father’s voice. He sounded stern, frustrated. Lauren stopped and listened.

“I don’t
want
his contact information, don’t you see that, Angela?” He uttered a harsh chuckle. “In fact, this is just how I want it. Our daughter doesn’t need any ties to that family, that woman.”

“It’s both of them.” Her mother’s voice was tired, the way she often sounded since the move. “Sheila doesn’t want her son dragged down by Lauren, but Samuel’s right there with her. Believe me, the idea of tearing these kids apart comes from both of them.”

“Okay, fine. Exactly.” His tone was louder than before. “So why should I take calls from the kid? So he called the bank, so what?”

“Bill.” Her mother’s voice was slower, more calm. “Listen to yourself. This is Shane we’re talking about, honey. He was practically part of the family for all those years, remember?” She sighed loud enough that Lauren could hear it in the hallway. “I mean the kid calls the bank looking for you, looking for some way to reach Lauren, and you have your secretary tell him he’s got the wrong bank? Is that fair?”

Lauren’s knees felt week. She felt the room begin to spin, and she braced herself against the wall. Shane had called the bank, her father’s new bank? And he’d been told he had the wrong place? So what would he think next? Did he even know what Chicago suburb they’d settled in or what neighborhood? She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to listen.

“Of course it’s fair, Angela. The things Sheila and Samuel said about our daughter, the way they treated her . . . Lauren’s my child, Angela. I don’t want her around people who don’t like her. If she’s away from Shane, she’ll be away from his parents.”

Her mother was quiet for a moment, and Lauren wondered if she was crying. Finally she said, “How did it all turn so bad? They were our friends. Our best friends.”

“I’ve learned something.” Her father sounded matter-of-fact. “Playing cards together, vacationing together, doesn’t always mean you know people.” His voice grew wistful. “I thought I knew Sheila and Sam. But you watched how they handled this. The only thing that mattered was Shane. They would’ve burned down our house if it meant protecting their boy from his responsibility.”

There was silence for a moment. Lauren’s entire body shook and she felt sick to her stomach. This was the sign she’d been looking for, the proof that her parents really and truly had conspired against her and Shane. Now she would leave this house, walk out of their lives without looking back, and one day, when she and Shane were settled, she would consider being a part of this family again. But not until then. She was about to burst into the room, but she waited in case there was more.