Beach Baby. Joan Kilby
of course.” Nina watched Serena to see which fork and knife she used on the radicchio salad served by a uniformed maid. “He loves Yale. I don’t want him to give it up.”
“Just imagine the scenario that would follow,” Serena went on. “He’d end up in some dreadful job for minimum wage, in a fast-food joint or washing cars. Probably he’d have to work two jobs just to make ends meet without a spare moment to write his stories. Within a year or two he’d resent you and the baby. Oh, he wouldn’t say anything, not Reid, but you would know how he felt deep inside. You would feel responsible.” Serena drank from a crystal water goblet then delicately blotted her mouth with a linen napkin. “I’d hate to think what that would do to your relationship.”
Nina knew all about Reid’s dream of becoming a writer, how much it meant to him and how tenaciously he was pursuing it. It was his unshakable belief in himself, his utter certainty about what he wanted to do with his life that she most admired about him.
“The last thing I want is for Reid to give up on becoming a writer,” Nina said. She smiled her thanks to the maid who’d silently removed her salad and replaced it with salmon. “But does he need to go to university to do that? And if he did quit to get a job, would it have to be such a poor one? Couldn’t he work for Mr. Robertson and write on the side?”
Exactly what kind of work Reid might do for his father, Nina had only a vague idea. The Robertson family had made their money several generations ago in the mining industry and now were diversified into many areas including property development and light manufacturing.
“Those two men!” Serena shook her head with an exasperated sigh and a conspiratorial smile that suggested she and Nina were allies. “These days they’re like a couple of bull moose butting antlers in the forest. Reid is determined to be independent. Reginald point-blank refuses to give Reid a job if he quits university to get married. Not that Reid expects or even wants to work for his father but he would do it for the baby. If his father would agree, which he won’t. Nor will Reginald give Reid any money to continue university if he marries. So you see, my dear, Reid is damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t.”
“I’ll go away,” Nina blurted. “I’ll have the baby on my own. When Reid’s finished studying we can be together.”
Even as she said it, she wondered how she would manage. Her father had lost his job as a longshoreman and his unemployment benefits had run out. Leo’s pride prevented him from applying for welfare and Nina had inherited the same stubborn conviction that a person should support herself. The family couldn’t live on what her mother made cleaning houses; they’d been counting on Nina finding a job and bringing in income. That was before she got pregnant.
“My dear, you know Reid,” Serena said, her smooth, confiding tone honeyed with a mother’s indulgent smile. “With his strong sense of responsibility—quite remarkable in someone so young—he would never allow you to do that.”
What she said was true, Nina realized. Reid would put her and the baby first, even if it was to his disadvantage.
“Please don’t think it’s you Reginald and I object to,” Serena went on. “Or your family. It’s just that you and Reid are so young. You’ve got your whole lives ahead of you. But if you and he marry and have a baby…” She trailed away, having already painted Nina a bleak picture of the future.
Serena was right. It would be a disaster for Reid. The last thing she wanted was to hold him back, or worse, have him hate and resent her. And she didn’t think she could raise her baby without him. Nina put down her knife and fork, too sick at heart to eat any more of the exquisite food.
“But what can I do?” Nina said. “It’s too late for me to have an abortion. And I wouldn’t want to, anyway.” She was only four months along but already she had a fierce love for her little sweetpea.
With a sympathetic smile, Serena reached across the table and placed a manicured hand atop Nina’s. “There’s a lovely couple in our sailing club, Jim and Elaine Hocking. They’re a little older and can’t have children of their own. Your mother knows them—she cleans their house. Jim and Elaine would give your baby a warm, loving home with every advantage.”
Surrounded by fine china and old silver, with the scent of roses wafting through the open window on the warm breeze, Nina began to cry. She thought about her situation and knew she wanted the best for her baby. And she knew, too, that that was something she couldn’t give.
Still feeling a gentle pressure on her fingers, Nina swallowed. Then she heard her name spoken, bringing her back to the present. It was Dora who was squeezing her hand.
“With all my heart I wish your father and I had been able to talk you out of giving up your baby,” Dora said. “If only you’d accepted Reid’s proposal—”
“Marrying Reid wasn’t an option.” Agitated, Nina paced the small space between table and stove. “All he ever dreamed of was being a writer. If we’d married he’d have ended up flipping burgers and wondering which he hated more, his job or me. Cutting him loose was the best thing I ever did. For all of us.”
When Reid had come home from Yale for the birth and found out she’d given up their baby for adoption, they’d had a raging fight. Before her eyes, she saw his love for her shrivel and fade, like a wisp of black smoke. She’d felt angry then, too, and betrayed. After giving up their baby for his sake and for the sake of their future together, she’d lost his love anyway. Her sacrifice had been for nothing. Now all she had left were regrets.
Forget Reid. Forget his quirky smile and intelligent eyes, the way he made her laugh, the way he’d made her shiver and burn when his hands moved over her skin.
Forget Reid? Nina sighed. She’d never managed that.
“Why did—?” she began then stopped. “I don’t even know her name.”
“Amy,” Dora replied.
“Amy,” Nina repeated. In her heart she’d always thought of her as sweetpea. That is, when she allowed herself to think of her at all. “Why did she run away?”
“She found out accidentally that she wasn’t Elaine and Jim’s biological child and was angry at them for not telling her she was adopted.”
“How did she find out?”
Dora hesitated. “She gave birth to a child of her own, a little girl,” Dora said. “She had complications and—”
“Wait a minute—Amy had a baby?” Nina whirled to face Dora. “I’m a grandmother?”
“And I’m a great grandmother.” Dora blinked as if she could hardly believe it, either. “The child is nearly a year old. She’s called Bea or something. I didn’t quite catch it.”
“I’m thirty-seven,” Nina said. “Which means Amy would have been only—” quickly she did the mental calculations “—eighteen when she had her baby.” Nina leaned her head against her hands. Like mother, like daughter. She tried to imagine Amy as an adult, but the face was a blank. Stabbed by that terrible sense of loss all over again, Nina asked, “Did she give her baby up for adoption, too?”
“No, she left home to live with the baby’s father then she quarreled with him and came out west.” Dora bit her bottom lip. “She asked Elaine for your contact details and Elaine called me wanting to know if she should give Amy your name and address. I hadn’t heard from Elaine since they moved back east. It’s a good thing you’ve never managed to convince your dad and me to move to a fancy apartment or she might not have found us.”
Nina looked up. “Did you give her my phone number?”
“I wouldn’t do that without consulting you,” Dora said. “But I did manage to wangle Amy’s local address out of Elaine.”
Her daughter was no longer a hazy memory consigned to the past but a real person confronting her in the here and now, maybe asking hard questions like Why didn’t Nina find a way to keep her? Despite