Leigh (27 page)

“I feel like an idiot,” Leigh admitted. “I’d do anything to change this, but I can’t.”

“I don’t know why you just can’t do what I suggest,” Bette said, her voice becoming pleading, “Honey, this could ruin your
life.”

Leigh shook her head. The love from her grandmother, Kitty, and Rose had given her strength and brought her first night of
deep sleep after many sleepless ones. Both had settled
her nerves. “I talked to Grandma and Aunt Kitty, and I think they’re right. I don’t want to give up my baby. I want to raise
him or her—”

Bette huffed her displeasure; her face twisted with it. “Who is going to marry you with an… an illegitimate child?”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to marry,” Leigh said, gazing into the dancing flames.

“Of course, you are,” Bette snapped.

“I never did,” Kitty put in. “Staying single isn’t the end of the world.”

“A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle,” Dory recited the popular women’s lib slogan.

Bette glared at her.

Chloe shook her head. “I don’t ever remember seeing a fish and a bicycle mate.”

Dory began, “I never thought—”

“Let’s stick to the subject,” Bette cut in. “Leigh, if you won’t do what I suggest, you can’t come back and live with me.
What will the neighbors say?”

“Well, if they’re good neighbors, they will come over and ask if they can help,” Chloe replied. “If they’re bad neighbors,
what does it matter what they say?”

Leigh stood and stirred the wood with the black iron poker. She stared into the flickering red coals. She didn’t want to look
at her mother, see rejection in her eyes.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Bette finally sat down in the chair opposite the fire. “Why is it always
something
with you, Leigh? Dory never gives me an ounce of trouble. Isn’t it enough that I lost your stepfather this year—”

“Don’t worry, Mother,” Leigh flared up, holding the poker like a pointer. “I won’t soil
your
reputation with my
love child.
You’ll never have to see—”

“No, I want to see the baby,” Dory pleaded, holding out her hands. “Mama, please.”

“Bette, I asked you not to give into the emotion of the moment,” Chloe said, “and say things that you will regret.” Chloe
turned to Leigh. “And that goes for you, too.”

Leigh turned and put the poker back in its stand on the hearth. She folded her arms around herself.

Bette burst into tears. And Leigh looked away into the fire, her jaw set.

On January 2, 1973, in the kitchen at Ivy Manor, Leigh dialed the number of
Women Today
and then the extension for her editor. Leigh didn’t want to do what she was going to do, but she didn’t have a choice.

“Hello, Dorcas, this is Leigh.” Her mouth was so dry she could barely speak. How many times must she make this confession?

“Hi, are you calling for an extension of the Christmas hiatus? If you need another day or—”

“No.” Might as well take the plunge. Leigh sucked in air. “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant,” Dorcas repeated sharply. “How pregnant?”

“About two months.” Leigh felt like crying again. She loved this job.

“Do you need time off for a honeymoon?” Dorcas asked, sounding uncertain.

“I’m not getting married.” Leigh knew the conversation would end now. She wanted to plead with her editor, but that wasn’t
professional, possible.

“I see.”

It was 1973, but most professional women—still primarily teachers and nurses—customarily quit working as soon as
they found out they were pregnant. And certainly no magazine would want an unmarried pregnant writer. “My grandmother here
in Maryland has asked me to stay with her.”

“Can’t you have your baby here?” Dorcas’s tone was incisive and slightly combative. “We have doctors in New York, too, you
know.”

At this unexpected salvo, Leigh gathered her wits. “I didn’t know what your policy was about pregnant… unmarried employees—”

“We don’t have one—yet—but I know this,” Dorcas said. “We aren’t going to fire you or applique a red A on your blouse. If
you want to work, I want you here working. You can take time off when you have the baby. But I’ll want you back as soon as
you can. You’re my best interviewer. I can send you anywhere and you always get exactly what I want.”

Leigh began crying, but tried hard not to let it be heard over the line. “Thanks, Dorcas. I’ll talk it over with my grandmother
and aunt.”

She hung up. The idea of continuing her work gave her a spurt of pure joy. But could she, should she go on working?

She turned toward the three women around the kitchen table, who’d been listening to the one-sided phone call, and gave them
the news.

“Told you,” Aunt Kitty crowed.

“But do you want to go on working?” Chloe asked. “You know you don’t need to. Roarke left me more than comfortable.”

Leigh sat down. “I want to keep writing. It’s what I do. I just didn’t think they’d want me working there—”

“Yes, the scarlet-letter syndrome,” Kitty snapped.

Leigh gazed at her great-aunt. She’d probably suffered from gossip all those years ago. Having an illegitimate baby in 1931
was worlds away from having one in 1973.

“Well, it’s always better to have a father around when you’re raisin’ a child,” Rose commented from the stove where she’d
moved to stir the fragrant navy-bean soup made from a leftover ham bone. “But lots of women have had to do it all alone. And
why shouldn’t you go on doing what you want? Black women don’t usually get to stay home and take care of their children. The
grannies do that. The women work.”

“But Leigh’s granny is going to be here in Ivy Manor,” Chloe complained, almost pouting.

“Perhaps a great-aunt will do in a pinch,” Kitty said. “I used to live in the Village. You said you’ve taken a two-bedroom
apartment. Why don’t I come and stay with you?”

Leigh stared at her aunt, stunned but pleased.

“She’s
my
granddaughter,” Chloe said with a glint in her eye.

Leigh laughed through her tears. “Hey, you two don’t need to fight over me. You can share this baby, okay?”

“Maybe Bette will want to come and help out, too,” Rose suggested, pausing with the wooden spoon in hand. “When a woman has
her first baby, it’s a good time for a mother and daughter. Bette was left with you, a baby to raise alone, until Mr. Ted
persuaded her to marry him. And it’s good for Dory to learn about babies.”

Leigh bit her lower lip before replying, “Rose, you’re dreaming. Mother left right after Christmas, and you know they had
intended to stay until today. Poor Dory was crying as they drove away. Mother doesn’t want her to get the idea that what I’ve
done was right. Well, I know it’s wrong. What I don’t get is why she’d think I’d encourage my sister to get pregnant out of
wedlock?” Anger flared. “I’d have to hate my sister to do that. And I certainly don’t hate Dory.”

Leigh hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell her mother that the baby’s father was married to someone else. As it was,
just the out-of-wedlock pregnancy had been enough to turn Bette away from her.

Chloe reached over and put her hand on Leigh’s. “Your mother is suffering, mourning, too. She’s lost Ted, remember. And your
mother sometimes acts angry when she is really more worried and upset than anything. She wanted everything to be perfect for
you, and life isn’t cooperating.”

Leigh didn’t want to disagree with her grandmother, but it seemed to her that Bette had never been happy with her. Why did
Leigh have to lose her stepfather along with Dane? She could have used Ted’s help in bridging this gap between her mother
and her. But he was gone and her mother had made it clear—without saying a word—that if Leigh wouldn’t give up her child,
Bette would give up Leigh.

Two days later, Kitty returned to New York City with Leigh. After looking over Leigh’s apartment, she made arrangements to
have some of her furniture moved from the San Francisco townhouse. The rest was put into storage, and the townhouse was given
to a rental agent to manage. Until the furniture arrived, Kitty was sleeping on Leigh’s new bed, and Leigh was back at Nancy’s
apartment, which was just below hers, on the sofa. And back to work.

The next day, Leigh returned home from interviewing women trying to get apprenticed to unions in New York City about the discrimination
they were fighting. Through the dark, early winter night, she headed home, bundled up with her fur hat and lined gloves. It
was her night to cook, so she stopped on the way home and picked up Chinese at their favorite restaurant in the neighborhood.

Over the past few weeks, she’d found that she did tire more easily, though she’d decided not to mention it to any
one. She was going to be a single mother. She might as well get used to the fact that her life had changed.

She entered Nancy’s apartment. Kitty was already there, beaming at her like Christmas had come again. “I just got off the
phone. I’ve already signed us up for Lamaze classes!”

“Lamaze?” Leigh echoed, not prepared for this.

“Yes, modern, natural childbirth,” Kitty enthused. “They say it’s all the rage.”

Nancy stepped out of the bathroom. “Yeah, you don’t want to have your kid the old-fashioned way, do you?”

I guess I don’t have a choice. “
Right. I got Chinese.” Anyway, Aunt Kitty’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Chloe had confided to Leigh that maybe Kitty needed
to do this to put some demons of her own to rest. After all, Chloe felt that Kitty still struggled with guilt over giving
up Thompson. Leigh tried to visualize what Aunt Kitty had gone through in the 1930s as an unwed mother and felt a rush of
love and compassion for her grandfather’s little sister.

A
unt Kitty sat on the green mat on the floor at the Lamaze class next to Leigh. “You’re doing great, honey. Breathe in, now
out.”

Lying on her back and gazing at her focus point, Leigh didn’t know if she agreed with Kitty. When would this pregnancy ever
end?

The instructor, a young woman with long, straw-colored hair who wore jeans and a white T-shirt, looked at the clock. “Now
remember at the end of your labor, you will get the urge to push. But don’t push until you’re fully dilated to ten
or you could tear the perineum. At that stage, when you get the urge to push, blow. You can’t push at both ends at once.”

The class, which consisted primarily of couples, chuckled. Leigh had been grateful to find that two other women classmates
had brought female relatives like Leigh had. She wondered if any of the other women were as nervous as she secretly was.

“Well, that’s our last lesson,” the instructor said. “I’ll expect each of you to contact me after you deliver. I always love
to come and see ‘my’ babies.”

Kitty helped Leigh up and then rolled up the avocado-green exercise mat. Leigh looked down and couldn’t see her slightly swollen
feet. She had about ten days to go until her due date. She rubbed the ache in her lower back and was glad it was summer and
she could wear sandals. She couldn’t imagine trying to wear real shoes right now.

As she and Aunty waited their turn to say farewell to their instructor, the baby started kicking with both feet on the right
side of Leigh’s abdomen. When the baby had dropped and engaged a month before, it had evidently landed on one side and now
didn’t have room to turn over. At times like this, Leigh felt like the baby was complaining about the cramped conditions.
Leigh pressed against the painful rhythm.

Finally, they bid the instructor farewell and then, calling good luck to the others, they headed for the subway and the short
ride home. Well, ready or not, Leigh didn’t have much longer to wait.
And then I’ll be a mother.
As usual, she tried not to think too much about what the birth process was really going to be like.

It was still light out when they walked into their apartment and found Grandma Chloe waiting for them. Worried that Leigh
might need her earlier than expected, she’d called and said she’d decided to come early and stay with the Love
ladys until Leigh delivered. Leigh hurried over and threw her arms around her grandmother’s neck. “Oh, I’m so glad you came.
So glad!”

Kitty hugged Chloe, and then Nancy unlocked the door with her key and came in. “I could hear you squealing through my ceiling.
It sounded like all of you were having fun without me. No fair!”

“I’ll pour us some iced tea,” Leigh said as she moved into the small alcove that was her kitchen. She opened the refrigerator—and
then stood stock still in shock. The three women behind her chattered away while she stood there contrasting how she’d thought
the delivery would start—and how it actually had.

“Where’s that iced tea?” Nancy asked.

Leigh turned. Fluid was trickling down her legs. She had to clear her throat to reply. “I’ve… I’m… I think my water just broke.
I’ll get the mop.” But she didn’t move.

“Mop!” Chloe moved to her. “We’ll get you cleaned up. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to go to the hospital? I just don’t
feel right about this midwife thing.”

“Now don’t upset her,” Kitty said, shaking her finger. “The midwife will have a doctor on call in case of emergency, and the
hospital’s only ten minutes away.” She came and took Leigh’s arm. “Nancy, you call the midwife. Chloe, you mop up that puddle.
I’ll get Leigh changed into a clean summer nightie.”

Leigh was relieved to be told what to do and so happy that her grandmother had come early.
My baby is coming.
The thought filled her with awe, fear, and relief. Her pregnancy was ending.

* * *

Within an hour, the midwife, a plump thirtyish mother of three, arrived. Eight and a half hours later, she told Leigh she
could stop blowing and start pushing.

Chloe watched as her granddaughter gave birth to her great-granddaughter. The years rolled back for Chloe as she remembered
giving birth to Bette and Bette giving birth to Linda Leigh. Now another generation had been born.
How can I be seventy-two years old and a great-grandmother?
And then tears moistened her eyes as she wished Roarke could have been here. And Ted and Dane.
This should have been Dane’s baby, Lord.