Catherine & Thomas Ch. 07

"You sit down and rest for a while my dear. I'll get you some tea. A nice strong cup of tea always makes me feel better and I'm sure it will do the same for you." She bustled off and I soon heard the rattle and clink of crockery and cutlery in the as yet unseen kitchen.

She returned a few minutes later, carrying a tray laden with a tea pot, milk jug, sugar pot, two cups and a plate of biscuits.

"The biscuits are homemade and quite delicious. Of course they weren't baked in this home but I won't tell if you don't." she said smilingly.

I managed a weak smile in return. She seemed like a very nice person but all I wanted now was to curl up in bed and sleep for a long time. She must have sensed this because we didn't linger long over our tea. Strangely enough, I did feel a bit better afterwards. She showed me upstairs to a large sunny bedroom, with an adjoining bathroom.

"I'm sure you'll be very comfortable here Catherine but please don't hesitate to tell me if you need anything, anything at all." Maria said, patting my hand in her motherly way.

"I'll leave you alone for now. Dinner is at 7pm but you don't have to come downstairs if you don't feel up to it. I'm sure you need to rest."

She closed the door softly and then I was alone. I slowly surveyed what would be my home for the next few months and not even the warm and bright furnishings could stop me feeling an intense and terrible loneliness and homesickness. I unpacked my meager belongings with a heavy heart and sank down onto the bed, intending to rest for a few minutes only. I opened my eyes to discover it was dark outside, the bedside clock's glowing numerals told me it was after 9pm. Maria must have checked up on me because I was covered by a light blanket. I lay there for a long while, listening to the faint sounds of Maria moving about her house. The neighbourhood sounds drifted though my open window. I could hear the occasional car drive past, a sudden burst of laughter from a nearby house, a woman's voice calling her dog in. As I listened I drifted back into sleep and when next I woke it was morning, the sunlight streaming into the room, bathing everything in an early morning golden glow.

I struggled to my feet and walked unsteadily to the bathroom, where I stepped gratefully into a steaming hot shower. A half-hour later I was dressed and made my way downstairs, the morning air refreshingly cool against my still-wet hair. I found Maria in the kitchen. The welcome aroma of coffee and toast greeted me and I realised with a start that I was ravenous. Maria smiled her warm smile and told me to sit.

"I love early mornings but I'm not at my brightest at this time of day so excuse me if I'm not very chatty Catherine dear." Maria offered.

I nodded and smiled, relieved that I wouldn't have to make small talk. I settled myself at the table, where I had a view of a beautiful, if overgrown garden. My eyes rested on the floral splendour outside while Maria set the table. I thought of offering to help but my limbs felt heavy and tired and I guiltily remained silent, not that Maria seemed to mind. She hummed softly to herself as she worked and within a few minutes had set everything out on the table. I buttered toast while she poured the coffee and we ate breakfast in a companionable silence. It was only when we had packed away the last dish after cleaning up that she spoke.

"Catherine, Louisa told me very little about you except to say that you're pregnant and that you'll be giving the baby up for adoption." I stiffened at her words and held my breath. "I won't pry or ask you to tell me anything if you don't want to but please know that you can talk to me if you need to. This house has given shelter to many scared and bruised souls and you'll find no judgment here, only comfort when you need it."

I released my breath and nodded; my throat tight with unshed tears. I could not look at her and she seemed to understand, placing a soft hand on my shoulder and giving a gentle pat before she padded out of the room. I stood there for a long moment until I realised with a jolt that I was gently caressing my abdomen. I jerked my hand away as if from a hot surface and walked outside into the garden to distract myself. I realised I would have to contact my parents soon, the sooner the better. I hadn't spoken to them in a while and knew I couldn't put it off any longer. I went upstairs and switched on my mobile. There were two messages in my mailbox. The first was from my father, asking me to call. The second was from Thomas and my heart jumped involuntarily. He had called late last night.

"I went to your apartment twice today and you weren't there. Where are you? I'm worried. Have you...have you done it yet? I need to talk to you. Please call me."

I replayed the message twice, just to hear his voice. Then I called my parents' home number, before my courage could fail me. My father answered, which was a relief. I didn't think I could handle my mother's sharp questions. I told him I was out of town, staying with friends and that I wouldn't be back for several months. My father was understandably confused and worried but all I could tell him was that I needed to be by myself for a while, that everything was ok and that I would let him know if I needed his help. He wasn't happy with my explanation but eventually I convinced him that I was fine and he made me promise to call home regularly.

The second call was much more difficult. I dialed Thomas's number with shaky fingers, my throat dry and my heart pounding as I listened to the phone ringing. He answered just as I was about to disconnect, his tone brusque and impatient. My courage faltered and I couldn't speak. He was about to hang up when I made a sound. There was a brief silence and then,

"Catherine? Is that you?" he asked softly.

"Hello Thomas, yes, it's me." I answered, finally able to speak.

"I'm glad you called. I was worried when I didn't find you at home. I went there again this morning and you were still out. Where are you now? Are you at home? I want to come over." He said.

"I'm not at home. I'm...I'm with a friend. I stayed over with a friend." I said.

"Well then, where does your friend live? I'll fetch you and we can go somewhere and talk. We need to talk Catherine." He replied.

"I left town Thomas. I'd rather not say where I am and who I'm staying with. I won't be coming back for a while." I said.

"Who are you with Catherine? Is it a man? Is it Kyle? You must tell me where you are." He said urgently. I could hear the barely repressed anger and frustration in his voice.

"I'm not with Kyle. I'm not with a man. I'm staying with a very kind woman who you don't know. I just...I just need to be alone for a while Thomas. Please understand." I begged.

"What's going on Catherine?" he persisted. "Have you done it yet? Please say you haven't. Please say you haven't done it yet."

There was no need to ask what "it" was.

"I haven't done it." There was an audible sigh of relief from him.

"Thank God." He said softly.

I plunged on. "I'm not going through with the abortion Thomas. I couldn't do it." I cut short his happy exclamation. "But that doesn't mean I'm keeping the baby either. I haven't made my final decision. That's why I left. I need to do this on my own. I can't make a rational decision if I have to deal with you and mom and dad."

I don't know why I didn't tell him that I had already decided to give the baby up for adoption. I suppose I thought he would be determined to find me if he knew I wasn't going to keep the baby.

"Please don't try to find me. That would be the worst thing you could do. I need to be away from you." I asked.

"But Catherine, how can you ask me that? How can I stay away, knowing that you're out there, all on your own, carrying my baby? You shouldn't be on your own. I should be with you. You don't have to go through this on your own." He insisted.

"I do. Trust me I have to do this alone. Please Thomas, please promise me you won't try to find me. If you come here I'll leave and then I won't contact you again." I threatened.

He was silent for a long moment and then I heard a heavy sigh.

"Alright Catherine, I won't try to find you. I...promise." The last words were said grudgingly.

"Will you at least keep in contact? Will you let me know how you are? How the baby is? At least give me that Catherine." He asked.

"Ok, I will." I promised.

"What made you change your mind?" he asked.

"I couldn't stop thinking about how this baby didn't ask to be created. I am responsible for this and I need to face up to my responsibility. I kept feeling as if I was trying to run away and eventually...well...I realised I couldn't run away...so..." I finished lamely.

"I'm glad you didn't go through with it. I'm really glad Catherine. I want you to know that I would have supported you, despite what I told you. That's why I tried to find you. I wanted to tell you I wouldn't let you go through that alone. I still didn't agree with your decision but, well, I knew I couldn't force you to do what I wanted and I didn't want you to go through that alone. It wouldn't have been right." He said.

"Thank you Thomas." I managed to choke out the words before dissolving into tears.

Thomas waited patiently while I cried. "It's ok Catherine. It's ok darling. Everything will be alright, you'll see. Its ok." He murmured over and over.

At last my tears dried up and after much hiccoughing and sniffing I could talk again.

"I should've had my umbrella for that downpour." Thomas joked gently, eliciting an involuntary snort of laughter from me. He laughed in return and I realised how long it had been since I heard him laugh. I had forgotten that I wasn't the only one in pain.

"I'm sorry Thomas. I really am. I wish it hadn't turned out like this." I said.

"It's not your fault honey. It's just the way things are." He replied. I heard his chair creak as he settled back and I imagined him reaching up to run his hand through his black curls as he talked.

"Neither of us planned this...well...I planned to get you." He said ruefully, "but I didn't plan for things to go this far."

"I miss you." I said, before I could stop myself.

"I miss you too." He replied. "Are you sure about doing this on your own? I'll come there, wherever you are. I'll stay as long as you want and do whatever you need. I won't try to coerce you into anything Catherine, I promise. I don't know if I can be away from you for so long."

I closed my eyes and stopped myself from telling him to come to me. That I missed him so much it hurt. That I was frightened and lonely and I didn't know what I was doing. I missed his voice and his touch and his nearness. But I didn't say any of that. Instead I said,

"No Thomas, it's better this way. I'll call you. I'll let you know how I'm doing, how we're doing." I said.

I sensed he wanted to argue and knowing him as I did, it took a great effort to accept my answer without further resistance.

We said our goodbyes and I rang off, missing him even more but at the same time, relieved that the conversation was over.

I won't bore you with the details of my daily life over the next few months. I adjusted slowly to life in Maria's home. True to her word, she didn't press me for details of my pregnancy. She was the least curious person I had ever met. She allowed me my privacy but was at my side when my morning sickness made me want to die to get some relief. She rubbed my back, cleaned me up and put me to bed, bringing me soothing cups of miracle tea and then leaving me in peace.

Once the morning sickness finally passed and I could spend time away from the bathroom and my bed, I soon grew bored and restless. I could only explore the neighbourhood for so long and read so many books. Maria suggested that I join her at the community centre one day and maybe I would find something there that interested me. I tagged along somewhat reluctantly but it wasn't too bad. The people were nice and I joined a couple of classes.

Time passed and I grew bigger. Maria took me shopping for maternity clothes and I soon resolved to take up a career campaigning for stylish maternity clothes as soon as I could face the world. We managed to find clothes without dots and bows and I spent many engrossing mornings figuring out new combinations from my meager wardrobe. For long moments at a time I could forget the circumstances of my pregnancy and I felt a kind of happiness then that I hadn't thought previously thought possible.

I was sitting outside in the garden one sunny day when I felt a flutter of butterfly's wings. I held my breath and the butterfly flapped its velvety wings again. My baby was saying hello. I stroked my swollen belly and greeted her, or him. I hadn't been curious before about knowing my baby's sex but now I was. I wanted to know who was inside me. From that moment I conducted regular conversations with my child, telling my little one about the world he or she would be born into.

Maria accompanied me on my doctor's visits and I was glad of her company. She held my hand during the examinations and asked intelligent, perceptive questions. She surprised me because I saw no evidence of children in her life. During one of our evening chats she revealed that she had raised her three younger siblings when their parents died and had supported both her sisters through their pregnancies. She loved children but couldn't have any herself. She seemed to accept this philosophically but I sensed an underlying sadness so I didn't press her any further. We became closer as the months passed and I grew to love this kind and generous woman who had opened her home and her heart to me. Several times I wanted to share my secret with her but every time I bit my tongue. I didn't want to see her open face close up and her affection die in the face of my revelation, so I kept my secret.

I called Thomas regularly and we communicated in a way we never had when we were together. We talked about our childhoods, compared our very different experiences growing up in the same home with the same parents. We talked about his business, my studies and discovered each other's likes and dislikes. I discovered he adored avocados and hated guavas. He discovered I nursed a secret crush on John Cusack (a fact that led to much teasing) and that there was a certain shade of green that made me nauseous. We laughed about silly stuff and talked seriously about our future, about our baby. He ended nearly every conversation asking me if I knew what I was going to do and every time I told him I hadn't decided yet. That was the only lie I told him.

By now I knew that I would have a girl, information that elated me and made me indescribably sad. I had started the adoption arrangements, contacting a social worker who would facilitate the process. I was in my sixth month by then and she had already passed on the files of several prospective parents. I read their biographies and studied their pictures, wondering about what wasn't in those files. Did they love reading and would they encourage my daughter to love books as I did? Did they hug and kiss often and did they express their love openly? Were they tolerant and kind? Would they show my little girl what a marvelous world it could be? Would they speak of me kindly and with understanding and tell her that I did what was best for her? I couldn't get those answers from a file so I arranged to meet those couples who looked the best on paper. I declined Maria's offer to accompany me – I had to depend on my own judgment.

Those meetings were heart-breaking. All those good people; so eager to raise my child as their own. They all asked about the father and all except a very few didn't push when I declined to give details. I met with about a dozen couples before I made my decision. They weren't the richest couple but they were well-educated and shared a similar witty sense of humour and an effortless kindness that appealed to me. I met with them a few times before informing the social worker that I wanted them to be my baby's parents. I signed the papers with a heavy heart, listing the father as unknown. It was better that way. The Sanders were eager to be more involved in my pregnancy and both of them accompanied me to some of my doctor's appointments until I asked them not to. They were hurt but reluctantly agreed when I explained that I found their presence too stressful and I didn't think that was good for the baby.

The next few months passed too quickly. I wanted to drift along like this forever. I waddled awkwardly and despaired of ever seeing my toes again but I didn't care. It couldn't last of course. My back had been paining all day and I had gone to bed early, hoping to sleep through the discomfort. It hadn't worked and I felt worse than ever. I lay in bed for as long as I could, hoping desperately that I would feel better soon, but I didn't. Eventually I crawled out of bed and made my way to Maria's room. I tapped at her door until she woke up, finding me crouched in the hallway, the pain overcoming me now.

"My dear! Let me help you up child. Here, let's get you onto the bed." She clucked worriedly, but never lost her composure.

We shuffled to her bed and she did her best to make me comfortable. I was crying now; the pain had become intense. Maria massaged my back for a long time and checked her watch every now and again, whenever another spasm gripped me. Dimly I realised that she was timing contractions. I couldn't understand why we weren't on our way to the hospital. Surely we should've left already. I voiced these thoughts to Maria and she assured me we had plenty of time.

Not long afterwards she left my side to get dressed and I heard her go to my room. Then she went downstairs and I heard the car backing out of the garage. Soon afterwards she came upstairs and helped me up.

"Come along dear, it's time to go. The little one is ready." Maria was stronger than she looked and she supported my weight easily as we made our way carefully downstairs to the car.

I don't remember much of the journey to the hospital, just Maria's soothing voice telling me everything would be fine. I had eventually told Thomas about the adoption, just a few days previously and I desperately wanted him with me now. He hadn't taken the news well and his anguished sobs still rang in my ears. I realised then that he had still nursed a faint hope that I would keep the baby. I listened to his crying – it was the least I could do. He told me it wasn't too late to change my mind but I knew that wasn't so. It was too late the moment I decided not to have the abortion. I kept Thomas's sweet face in my mind and tried to remember everything so that one day, maybe, I could tell him what happened at the birth of his child.

The labour and birth went well, or so they told me. I couldn't quite see how being turned inside out was normal but I was too busy crying and screaming to discuss my opinion of the process.

My little girl was finally born at 08:23am on a sunny Thursday morning. I held her and kissed her sweet, beautiful face for the first and last time and then I handed her over to her new mother and father. I turned my face away from their joy. My heart was breaking and I knew it would never fully heal. I was glad when they left the room because all I wanted to do was yell out that I'd changed my mind, that I wanted my baby back. I bit my lips until they bled. The nurse gently wiped away the blood but mercifully made no comment. I managed to hold back my tears until I reached the recovery room. Once the tears started I couldn't stop. Ugly gulping sobs wracked my body and I desperately wanted to die. I couldn't conceive how I would find the strength to go on. Eventually a nurse came in and injected something into my IV. I continued crying for a while longer until I eventually fell into a fitful sleep. During one of my brief periods of wakefulness I thought I saw Thomas at my bedside. The illusion was so real I felt his fingers stroke my cheek before I descended into sleep once again.