go of us. For some reason we're a prime target for it,
but we'll stand up to it as we always do." she vowed.
"We really have no choice. It's either this or leaving
with our tails between our legs."
She headed for her bedroom and the spare
bedroom to sift through her wardrobe.
Finally the reality I had kept so well hidden
began to rise to the surface of my thoughts.
And, actually for the first time. I thought about
the baby inside me.
With both of us regretting my pregnancy and
hating the man who had done this to me, what kind of
a child would he or she be, and into what sort of a
world would he or she be brought?
19
One Last Salute
.
When my mother was determined to do
something, she devoted every last ounce of her energy toward accomplishing it. Establishing her surrogate pregnancy was no exception. She took great care in creating her physical appearance and did something I knew was abhorrent to her: She deliberately set out to gain weight, and as quickly as possible. Some days she gorged herself so much on fattening foods, especially ice cream, cakes. and cookies. that she ended up in the bathroom regurgitating for nearly half an hour. She would emerge pale and sickly, but like a stubborn and defiant prisoner of her own making she would return to the kitchen and make a milkshake. She would conquer her body, and that was that.
However, while she was doing all this I would sometimes catch her glaring at me with a glint of steel anger in her eyes. No matter what she had said or how she had spoken about Kirby or about cruel fate. I knew she blamed me. too. Her eyes gave me nightmares. In one dark dream she was actually pregnant. It was as if my pregnancy was contagious. She was screaming with labor pains, and I was at her bedside, holding her hand. and I was still pregnant myself'. I was pleading with her to stop, telling her she wasn't pregnant, but suddenly I heard the sound of a baby's cry. It sent shivers through me as I began to lift the blanket. Fortunately, before I saw anything. I awoke, in a cold sweat and breathing so hard I had pains around my heart.
A full month had gone by, and I had stepped out of the beach house only twice, both times after midnight. I was so terrified of being discovered that I couldn't walk far. and I kept myself in the shadows like some nocturnal creature who could be destroyed by any light, a vampire without any strength, only the curse upon her.
Mommy followed each step of her plan carefully. She went to a maternity shop and bought the clothes. She had more than one conversation with Thelma Carriage, and during the second one she broke out in sobs and revealed that Kirby had left her not only depleted of her fortune but with child. She begged Thelma not to tell anyone. '.which was the same as saying, "Please, tell everyone in the world about me."
Some of her older acquaintances began to phone, pretending to be concerned about her situation but really hoping to get some new tidbit of
information that they could claim. She doled it out cleverly, sprinkling details within the conversation. She claimed she didn't want to know the sex of the child. She said she wasn't sure she would keep the child. She didn't want to give birth anywhere but in the beach house, and maybe that way no one would be aware of the events that would follow. Mommy made each caller feel she was party to a secret, pretending to believe in the caller's oath of loyalty. She was so good and so convincing that I had to pause myself to remember it was all a ruse.
Dr. Cook came to see me once a week. Mommy again making it appear as though he was coming to see her. She was afraid one of his receptionists would find out the truth and reveal it, so she told Brenda Carriage that Dr. Cook was cooperating with her efforts and making house calls.
And then she did what I thought was the piece de re'sistance, the crowning piece of deception. She told Thelma Carriage that she was going to try to convince people the child was mine so she would still be available for any potential new wealthy bachelor or widower. She said she was even having me wear pillows so I would appear pregnant. This would cover any possible error I would make, especially in the event someone saw me. She did this right before she invited the Carriage sisters to an afternoon tea.
By now she had managed to gain nearly seven pounds. Her face was bloated, and her disguised, imitation-pregnant figure was convincing. She told me her plan for the afternoon. I was to remain out of sight until she gave me the signal, and then I was to appear as if I didn't know they were there and quickly retreat after giving them just enough time to see me.
Afterward she was ecstatic. They had bought into it entirely, she said. I thought she was acting strangely now because she was enjoying her success too much, and then an even stranger feeling came over me. I found myself actually becoming jealous. Mommy was relishing and savoring her state of pregnancy and the potential new baby's arrival far more than I was, and my state of pregnancy was real!
At times I thought she believed I really wasn't pregnant. She was doing that good a job of convincing herself so she could be believable to other people. A line from a novel I read during this time came to me: "Be careful of who you pretend to be or you'll became who you pretend to be."
There she was straining to get up from her chair or asking me to get her this or that. She got her waddle walk dawn perfectly and moaned and sighed just like a woman struggling with a pregnancy might. All this she was doing without anyone else but me there! Maybe she thought she was punishing me, getting back at me. I was too amazed and frightened to say anything, because when I did the first time, she turned on me, her eyes 'vide with fury, and screamed. "I'm doing this for you, you fool! I have to practice and get into the state of mind so I don't make any mistakes when I'm in public. How can you be so bright in college, be such an avid reader, and be so stupid sometimes. Grace?"