The Gift (26 page)

The Whittakers invited them to stay for lunch, but her parents said they had to get back, and Margaret stood looking at her daughter with eyes filled with sorrow and regret for all she'd been unable to give her. She hadn't had the courage, and now she was ashamed that someone else had been there.

“You're all right?” she asked cautiously, almost as though she was afraid to touch her.

I'm fine, Mom.” Maribeth looked beautiful, and suddenly much older. She looked more like eighteen than sixteen. She'd grown up. She was no longer a little girl, she was a mother. “How are you?” she asked, and her mother burst into tears, it was an emotional moment, and she asked if she could see the baby. And she cried again when she saw it. She said it looked just like Maribeth when she was a baby.

They loaded Maribeth's things into the car, and she stood there, feeling a rock in her stomach. She went back inside, and into Liz's room and picked up Kate and held her close to her as the baby slept, unaware of what was happening, and that someone important was about to slip out of her life, never to return in exactly the same way again, if ever. Maribeth knew that there were no guarantees in life, only promises and whispers.

“I'm leaving you now,” she whispered to the sleeping angel. “Don't ever forget how much I love you,” she said, as the baby opened her eyes and stared at her as though she were concentrating on what Maribeth was saying. I won't be your mommy anymore when I come back here … I'm not even your mommy now … be a good girl …take care of Tommy for me,” she said, kissing her, and squeezing her eyes shut. It didn't matter what she had said about not being able to give her anything, or the life she deserved. In her gut, in her heart, this would always be her baby, and she would always love her, and to her very core she understood that. “I'll always love you,” she whispered into the soft hair, and then set her down again, looking at her for a last time, knowing that she would never see her that way again, or be as close to her. This was their final moment as mother and daughter. “I love you,” she said, and collided with Tommy as she turned away. He had been there, watching her, and crying silently for her sorrow.

“You don't have to give her away,” he said through his tears. “I wanted to many you. I still do.”

“So do I. I love you. But it's better this way, and you know it. It's so good for them … we have a whole life ahead of us,” she said, clinging to him, holding him, shaking as he held her. Oh God, how I love you. I love her too, but they deserve some happiness. And what can I do for Kate?”

“You're a wonderful person' he said, holding her with all his strength, wanting to shield her from everything that had happened and hold on to her forever.

“So are you,” she said, and then they walked slowly from the room together, and she left her baby behind her. It was almost more than she could do to walk out of the house with him, and Liz and John both cried when they kissed her goodbye, and made her promise to call them, and visit often. She wanted to, but she was still worried it would make them feel that she was crowding into Kate's life. But she needed to see them, and Tommy. Needed them more than they could ever know. And she still wanted a future with Tommy.

“I love you,” Tommy said fiercely, like the ultimate affirmation. He knew all her fears, her hesitation about infringing on their lives, but he wasn't going to let her go. And to her, knowing that was a comfort. She knew he would be there for her, if she wanted him, and for now she did. She hoped she always would. But the one thing they had all learned was that the future was uncertain. Nothing they had ever wanted or planned had ever happened as expected. They had never expected Annie to leave them so suddenly or so soon, or Kate to arrive, almost as quickly, or Maribeth to pass through their lives, like a visiting angel. The one thing they knew was they could count on very little.

“I love you all so much,” Maribeth said, hugging them again, unable to leave them, and then she felt an unexpectedly gentle hand on her arm. It was her fathers.

“Come on, Maribeth, let's go home,” he said, with tears in his own eyes. “We missed you.” And then he helped her into the car. Maybe he wasn't the ogre she remembered, but just a man with his own weaknesses and tarnished visions. Maybe in some ways, they had all grown up. Maybe it had been time for them to do that.

Tommy and his parents stood watching her as she drove away, hoping she'd come back to them, knowing that if life was kind, she would, to visit, or to stay forever. They were grateful for knowing her, they had given each other precious gifts, of love, and lives, and learning. She had brought them back to life, and they had given her a future.

“I love you,” Maribeth whispered as they drove away, and she stared at them through the rear window of her father's car. They watched her wave for as long as she could, and they stood there, thinking of her, remembering, until at last they went back inside to the gift she had left them.

Published by
Dell Publishing
a division of
Random House, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036

Copyright © 1994 by Danielle Steel

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address: Delacorte Press, New York, New York.

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eISBN: 978-0-307-56690-4

v3.0

THC GIFT “FEW MODERN WRITERS CONVEY THE PATHOS OF FAMILY AND MARITAL LIFE WITH SUCH HEARTFELT EMPATHY …DANIELLE STEEL HAS AGAIN UPLIFTED HER READERS WHILE SKILLFULLY COMMUNICATING SOME OF LIFE'S BITTERSWEET VERITIES. WHO COULD ASK FOR A FINER GIFT THAN THAT?” —
Philadelphia Inquirer

PRAISE FOR DANIELLE STEEL'S
THE GIFT

“AS A DANIELLE STEEL ADMIRER, I CONSIDER THIS BOOK TO BE HER FINEST. … A quiet, unforgettable series of family portraits … a book of reality and substance, a book of moral and truth, a book of love and supreme sacrifice.”

—
Winter Haven News-Chief
(Fla.)

A TOUCHING, SWEET AND SIMPLE STORY …
The Gift
is a departure from Ms. Steel's usual style and shows a great deal of depth.”

—
The Chattanooga Times

THE
GIFT
IS STEEL TO PERFECTION…. THIS IS THE AUTHOR AT HER BEST.”

—
Booklist

“A SIMPLE, POIGNANT STORY …Steel does a wonderful job of examining relationships and emotional ties. … A refreshing step back to an era when the family was the foundation of society.”

—
Sault Ste. Marie News
(Mich.)

“Well-meaning characters, uplifting sentiments and a few moments that could make a stone weep.”

—
Publishers Weekly

A MAIN SELECTION OF THE LITERARY GUILD AND THE DOUBLEDAY BOOK CLUB

Books by Danielle Steel

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www.daniellesteel.com

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