fence.
“Miss Julia?” Hazel Marie said, bringing me out of my reverie. “I’ve been thinking that there’s something I could do. If I could bring myself to do it. I know other people have done it and been all right with it. I just don’t know if I could.”
“What’s that, Hazel Marie?”
“Well,” she said, needing the mascara-smeared Kleenex again for her eyes, “I could make up some story for Lloyd and leave him here. Then I could go off somewhere and have the baby and then . . .” She stopped, her voice hoarse with tears. “And then put the baby up for adoption.” The Kleenex covered her face by this time as her shoulders began to shake. “Then I could come back and get Lloyd. He wouldn’t have to know anything about it.”
My first reaction was to lean over, put my hand on her arm and try to talk her out of such an extreme solution, so I did. “Oh, no, Hazel Marie, that would be too terrible. I can’t bear the thought of you giving up that tiny baby and never knowing who it was or where it was. None of us would ever have a minute’s peace if you did that. Please, let’s think of something else.”
But my second reaction, which I kept to myself, was that adopting that baby out would solve a multitude of problems. But only for us and only in the short run, not necessarily for the baby. Who knew who would adopt it? Who knew what kind of life it would have? The thought of a little one with Mr. Pickens’s black eyes and Hazel Marie’s sweet nature in the care of strangers filled me with an overwhelming sadness. What it would do to Hazel Marie, I couldn’t imagine.
Then it hit me. The only reason either of us was thinking of hiding the existence of that baby was to keep us from being the topic of whispers and gossip. Well, and to keep a little immorality under wraps. But what if Hazel Marie stayed home, grew noticeably and publicly larger, and gave birth at Abbotsville General? Would the world come to an end? No, it wouldn’t. Oh, there’d be talk, all right, and she’d be snubbed and excluded from parties and clubs and what-not, as I would be, too, since she’d be doing it with my approval.
Well, I was getting tired of the same old social whirl anyway. All it was was the same people saying and doing the same things over and over. I could do without that. Pastor Ledbetter might drum us out of the church, but there were other churches that would welcome us and our tithes with open arms.
The more I thought about it, the better it seemed. Contrast a little snubbing against a child turned out to fend for itself, and there was no contest. All Hazel Marie would have to do was hold her head up high and go right on with her business, knowing that she was accepting the care and the responsibility for what she had put in play.
The only one who might suffer from having a mother who was having a second illegitimate slip was Lloyd. I hated the thought of him being the brunt of jokes and jeers, but if it got too bad, there was always boarding school. Although that was another extreme solution I could hardly bear to consider. Still, I suspected that he’d weathered the same responses to bastardy before this and he’d come out, as far as I could see, unscathed.
By this time, I’d about convinced myself that if the boy were told everything, given all the options to consider, that he’d come down on the side of keeping his little brother or sister and riding out the storm.
But it wasn’t my decision to make. It was Hazel Marie’s. She, however, could be swayed and I might try to do just that. I mentally shuddered at the thought of going about my usual activities around town with Hazel Marie in tow, and her as big as a house, and everybody shaking their heads in dismay at our blatant disregard for appearances. It wasn’t something I would look forward to, but I could do it if it meant keeping Lloyd with us and that baby out of the hands of a stranger.
But first, we had to give Mr. Pickens a chance.
“Miss Julia?” Hazel Marie said, bringing me out of my reverie. “I’ve been thinking that there’s something I could do. If I could bring myself to do it. I know other people have done it and been all right with it. I just don’t know if I could.”
“What’s that, Hazel Marie?”
“Well,” she said, needing the mascara-smeared Kleenex again for her eyes, “I could make up some story for Lloyd and leave him here. Then I could go off somewhere and have the baby and then . . .” She stopped, her voice hoarse with tears. “And then put the baby up for adoption.” The Kleenex covered her face by this time as her shoulders began to shake. “Then I could come back and get Lloyd. He wouldn’t have to know anything about it.”
My first reaction was to lean over, put my hand on her arm and try to talk her out of such an extreme solution, so I did. “Oh, no, Hazel Marie, that would be too terrible. I can’t bear the thought of you giving up that tiny baby and never knowing who it was or where it was. None of us would ever have a minute’s peace if you did that. Please, let’s think of something else.”
But my second reaction, which I kept to myself, was that adopting that baby out would solve a multitude of problems. But only for us and only in the short run, not necessarily for the baby. Who knew who would adopt it? Who knew what kind of life it would have? The thought of a little one with Mr. Pickens’s black eyes and Hazel Marie’s sweet nature in the care of strangers filled me with an overwhelming sadness. What it would do to Hazel Marie, I couldn’t imagine.
Then it hit me. The only reason either of us was thinking of hiding the existence of that baby was to keep us from being the topic of whispers and gossip. Well, and to keep a little immorality under wraps. But what if Hazel Marie stayed home, grew noticeably and publicly larger, and gave birth at Abbotsville General? Would the world come to an end? No, it wouldn’t. Oh, there’d be talk, all right, and she’d be snubbed and excluded from parties and clubs and what-not, as I would be, too, since she’d be doing it with my approval.
Well, I was getting tired of the same old social whirl anyway. All it was was the same people saying and doing the same things over and over. I could do without that. Pastor Ledbetter might drum us out of the church, but there were other churches that would welcome us and our tithes with open arms.
The more I thought about it, the better it seemed. Contrast a little snubbing against a child turned out to fend for itself, and there was no contest. All Hazel Marie would have to do was hold her head up high and go right on with her business, knowing that she was accepting the care and the responsibility for what she had put in play.
The only one who might suffer from having a mother who was having a second illegitimate slip was Lloyd. I hated the thought of him being the brunt of jokes and jeers, but if it got too bad, there was always boarding school. Although that was another extreme solution I could hardly bear to consider. Still, I suspected that he’d weathered the same responses to bastardy before this and he’d come out, as far as I could see, unscathed.
By this time, I’d about convinced myself that if the boy were told everything, given all the options to consider, that he’d come down on the side of keeping his little brother or sister and riding out the storm.
But it wasn’t my decision to make. It was Hazel Marie’s. She, however, could be swayed and I might try to do just that. I mentally shuddered at the thought of going about my usual activities around town with Hazel Marie in tow, and her as big as a house, and everybody shaking their heads in dismay at our blatant disregard for appearances. It wasn’t something I would look forward to, but I could do it if it meant keeping Lloyd with us and that baby out of the hands of a stranger.
But first, we had to give Mr. Pickens a chance.
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