CHAPTER 2

THE MYSTERY CHILD

“I know it was partly my fault,” Rebecca told her mother over lunch at Richard’s Delicatessen, “But it’s mostly his.” She took a bite of her personal veggie pizza, heaped with green peppers, and sipped at a strawberry smoothie. “Look, I know we’ve been separated almost six months, but Craig’s the one who has to apologize before I’ll seriously talk with him about getting back together. He walked out on me, not the other way around. And he left me just when I needed him most.”

Alice, Rebecca’s mother, was in the middle of consuming a chicken salad with all the trimmings, topped with Italian dressing. She looked up and pointed her fork at her daughter. “That’s bunk. I know you believe it, Becca, but you bear a large part of the responsibility for this mess. It almost seems like you intentionally alienated your husband. He consoled you for over five months, and you just kept ignoring him. What did you expect?” She took another bite. “He’s a good man. You need to call him.”

Rebecca put down her pizza and adjusted herself in her seat. Her face looked flush. She leaned forward and looked directly at her mother. “Mom, you don’t…”

“Men are different,” her mother continued as she dug into her salad and acted as if she hadn’t heard her daughter. “You just can’t push him away all the time without a good explanation when you seem to him to be as healthy as a horse and are just being obstinate.”

“I know, Mom.” She folded her arms on the table. As she continued, her voice rose. “But I’m learning to live with my losses without anyone’s help, including his.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and scanned the room to see if anyone was listening. She noticed an older woman across the room glance in her direction. She lowered her voice to an icy whisper. “I needed Craig when Tyler died. He wasn’t there for me then, so I sure as heck don’t need him now.”

Alice shook her head slowly. “He was there for you, begging you to get help. You never told Craig you needed him. What did you expect him to do?” She finished her iced tea with a long swallow. “Instead of listening to Craig, trying to understand him, you chose to work sixty hours a week.” Her voice rose. “Then, on top of that, you still took nearly every extra shift offered to you. You just wanted to push everything into a little box so you didn’t have to remember or talk about Tyler’s death. I know you like the back of my hand, Rebecca Jean. You probably went home and wouldn’t talk to your husband either. That only works for so long, my dear. I know what I’m talking about. Something had to break. And it did.”

“I don’t want to talk about Tyler,” Rebecca said, not looking at her mother and taking a drink from her smoothie. Her voice again returned to an icy whisper, as she looked her mother in the eyes. “Just how do you know if we talked or not? Have you been speaking with Craig?”

“What, knowing you isn’t enough?”

“Answer my question, Mom.”

Alice raised her eyebrows and looked off in the distance. “Maybe. I might have off and on.” She looked back at Rebecca. “But I haven’t heard from him in awhile now.”

Rebecca grit her teeth. “Mom, you had no business…”

“Becca,” she said in a stern voice, “I’m trying to help you. The last time I talked with your husband, I believe he was hinting around that he might file for a divorce. Maybe it was more than a hint. He might have been trying to tell me something… something he wanted me to pass on to you.”

Rebecca stopped chewing and shook her head. “He wouldn’t do that…, not without talking to me first.”

“You’ve been impossible! You won’t talk to anyone; won’t take any advice. My suggestion to you is if he calls you again, talk to him--or better yet, call him.”

Rebecca wouldn’t budge. Taking another bite from the pizza, her mouth full she said, “Not until he comes to see me first and apologizes.”

Alice threw her hands up. “Do it your way, Rebecca. You always have. But remember, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and He may be working something out at this moment. Don’t push Him away too.”

“I wouldn’t do that, Mom, but it would take a miracle for me to take Craig back right now. I just don’t have the need for him or anyone. I’m doing fine by myself.”

Alice finished her chicken salad, “Okay, do what you want. As I said, you always have.” She picked up her brown eel-skin purse off the floor and pulled out her wallet. She paid for their meals, leaving the money on the table. “Are you ready to go?”

“Definitely.”

As they left the restaurant, Rebecca gave her Mom a hug. “Thanks for listening, Mom. I always feel better after I talk with you, whether we agree or not.” She patted her on the back. “I have to run. I’ll talk to you tonight.”

“All right. Love you.”

“Love you too. Tell Dad I said hi.”

On her way home, Rebecca stopped at a local church where she found solace from the torment of her loss. These visits had eventually replaced the trips to the cemetery she’d made daily for the first few months after Tyler’s death. Sometimes for hours on end she would stand and stare at Tyler’s headstone. Now, going to the church most nights after work to say a few prayers for him and then speaking to him silently for several minutes gave her the peace and tranquility she sought. In church, she always pictured him sitting on Christ’s lap with a dozen angels surrounding them.

A few weeks after Tyler’s death, Rebecca remembered and recognized the horrible things she’d said to God when her son died, and confessed. She knew He would forgive her, but she had a hard time forgiving herself. She still found herself apologizing to Him and crying each time she prayed.

This time she felt peculiar as she stood up from the pew to leave. It was nothing she could explain or put into words, but she felt as though a hundred pounds had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt alive, a reckless abandon, a freedom she hadn’t felt in months. She felt forgiven. It felt good.

***

Early the next Saturday morning, Rebecca was preparing to work another extra shift when the phone rang.

“Becca.”

“Hi, Mom, you’re up early. What’s up?”

It was a crisp, fall morning in early October. The sun was just breaking over the horizon and not a cloud was in the sky.

“It’s supposed to be such a beautiful day, I thought about going to the farmer’s market this afternoon. Your sister said she wanted to go, and we can all have lunch at that deli again. Want to come?”

“Sorry, Mom, I was just leaving for work. They’re paying me double-time and a half today. I couldn’t turn it down.”

“Well, if you ask me, you’re still working too much overtime. Stop and smell the flowers once in a while.”

“Mom, I love you, but please, I didn’t ask. I’ll take a rain-check for a little shopping next week though.”

“Okay, I’m going to hold you to it. I didn’t want you to be alone today, this being Tyler’s one year anniversary and all.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Rebecca put her coat on over her nurse’s uniform, grabbed her purse and keys and opened the front door. When she stepped outside to leave for work, she looked toward the sky, stopped, closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of the crisp, cool air. Aw, smell that fall air; Mom was right, she thought to herself as she twisted around to pull the door closed to lock it. She noticed Ethel, the woman next door who always seemed to have her nose pressed against her window, watching the comings and goings of her neighbors. Rebecca gave her a short wave, wanting her to know she saw her too.

Something rubbed against Rebecca’s leg, startling her. She looked down. The neighborhood Ragdoll Siamese cat she often fed, purred and pushed against her leg again. It was a pitiful sight; its long, multi-colored hair all matted down and filthy, its cry begging for something to eat.

She bent down to pet the little fur-ball. “I’m sorry, Ragamuffin, I don’t have time to feed you this morning. You’ll have to wait until I get home tonight.”

Something else caught her attention as she started to stand up. There, down the walkway on her bottom step was a large brown wicker basket, a pink knitted blanket loosely covering the top. She let the screen door bang closed behind her--the heavy wooden door remaining ajar. She walked down the three steps, and bent over the basket.

“What have we here?” she said aloud. There was a note, folded and pinned to the top of the blanket, which she removed and opened. In beautiful script handwriting, it read: REBECCA, I AM A GIFT FROM GOD. PLEASE TAKE CARE OF ME.

Cautiously, half expecting something to jump out at her, Rebecca slowly pulled back part of the blanket revealing the face of a tiny, sleeping baby. “Holy…” Rebecca sucked in a breath. Her heart pounded. “Who are you?” Rebecca asked in a whisper. The baby, probably six weeks old, was wrapped in a pink and blue receiving blanket, sound asleep. Rebecca tucked the note in her coat pocket and carefully looked around the neighborhood. She didn’t see anyone, and surprisingly Ethel wasn’t peering out her window. She just knew someone had to be watching; no one would leave a new baby on a doorstep like this and walk away. What if she hadn’t been going to work so early? It could have frozen to death before being found, or a dog or other wild animal could have gotten to it and done something horrible.

She gently picked the basket up and went back into her apartment looking over her shoulder. She pulled the blanket back and saw that the baby was now wide-awake, staring up at her with large, sky-blue eyes. Golden blond hair capped the infant’s head and wisps curled on its forehead. Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat as the baby gave her a happy toothless grin. She couldn’t resist smiling back, kissing the top of the baby’s head as she lifted the little swathed bundle carefully from the basket. Holding the baby gently to her shoulder she walked back to Tyler’s room. She stopped as she breached the doorway.

An avalanche of memories revisited, flooding Rebecca’s being. All her maternal instincts returned, warming and filling her veins. Gently lying the child down on a changing table, she unwrapped the blanket from around the tiny baby, discovering a naked little body. A baby girl!

Still hoping someday to adopt a child, she had kept all of Tyler’s furniture, toys and clothing. She dressed the infant in a disposable diaper, a t-shirt and a sleeper to keep her warm. Retrieving a bottle and the last of some formula powder from a cabinet in the kitchen, she mixed it with water and warmed the formula in the microwave, pouring it into the bottle.

Cradling the child in her arm, the baby eagerly gulped the milk, her miniature fingers caressing the bottle as she suckled and emptied it. She lifted the baby to her shoulder and patted her back until she let go of the extra air with a loud burp.

What a sweet little girl. Who would abandon this child and why leave her on my doorstep?

As she held the infant, this helpless creature, all the feelings and emotions she had suppressed since Tyler’s death returned with the ferocity of a thunderstorm. Rebecca cried, tears steaming down her face as she recalled holding Tyler the same way. She wiped her eyes with the corner of the baby’s blanket.

The baby’s stomach full, her eyes no longer able to stay open, the infant fell sound asleep. Rebecca gently placed her back into the basket.

Wiping away her own tears again, she watched the infant doze for several minutes, and then decided to make up the crib. But first, already running late for her overtime shift, she was either going to have to call in sick or call the police and turn the baby over to social services.

What should she do? Should she really keep her? What gave her the right? What would she tell everyone? What about her mom and dad, her sister, and especially that pesky, nosey neighbor?

The thought of turning her over to social services made her cringe and gave her goose bumps. How could she do that to this child? The idea of the infant being passed from one foster home to another sickened her as she recalled some of the foster children with questionable injuries brought into the emergency room where she worked. The last child, a three-year old boy had more than twelve cigarette burns on his back and chest. These were found when he was brought in with a broken arm that his guardian claimed he obtained from falling down a stairway.

The note. That was it! The note that accompanied the infant, she decided, gave the baby to her, no one else. It would be her proof--to herself--of legal custody. She knew it would never stand up in court if it ever came to it, but to her it was enough to make a decision. Besides, it was her doorstep the child was left on and the note had her name on it, so the person who abandoned her there must have wanted only her to take care of the baby. That had to count for something. And if the mother ever came back and wanted the baby, well, she would deal with that then.

Rebecca finally called the hospital and told her supervisor she didn’t feel well and would not be in. She didn’t approve of lying, but this had to be one of those rare exceptions. There were greater concerns right now and she didn’t see any other way at the moment. Explanations, those that made sense, were not immediately available and in addition she did not wish to compound her lie.

She went to the living room window and peered out from the side, hidden by the curtain. Could someone still be watching? For almost twenty minutes, she went from room to room, looking out every window searching for something out of place, a strange car parked in the street, someone who didn’t belong. Nothing.

***

The telephone rang and Rebecca jumped. She hesitated to answer it. Could it be the hospital? Should she try to sound sick? Turning the ringer down so as not to wake the baby, she let it ring several more times before deciding to answer.

“Hello,” she said weakly, coughing a few times. She was barely audible.

“Becca, are you all right?” It was her sister and she sounded concerned.

“Oh. Hi, Sue,” she said in her normal voice. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong? I tried to call you at work. Mom told me you couldn’t go shopping with us today cause you were working overtime, but the hospital said you called in sick.”

“Yeah. I did. But I’m not sick,” she said cautiously.

“What’s up? That doesn’t sound like you.”

She paused. “Sue, something really strange has come up.” Rebecca thought fast. “I was getting ready to call you. I have a situation and I can’t discuss it with anyone else right now, especially Mom. Can you come over?”

“When?”

“As soon as possible. Right now.”

“Becca, I’ve got the baby, I’ve got to go shopping with Mom later, and I’m really kind of….”

Rebecca pressed. “Please, Sue. This is really important. I wouldn’t ask you otherwise.”

“Becca, what’s wrong with you? You’re worrying me. Why can’t you just tell me over the phone? What in the world could be so important?”

“I don’t want to… I can’t discuss it over the phone.”

“That bad, huh? Who’d you kill?”

“I didn’t kill anyone, Sue! And it’s not bad. I just have to be very careful. You’ll understand when you get here.”

“Well, okay. Let me get Christina ready. I’ll be over in about an hour.”

“Thanks, Sis. Hurry.”