Danielle Steel - The Gift

“Hi, girls, what have you been up to?” John asked jovially as he kissed his wife cautiously, and then glanced at her face to see her reaction. Lately, they seemed to be drifting slowly closer again, but it frightened both of them a little. They had been apart for so long, that any intimacy between them seemed unusual and foreign. He glanced at Maribeth with a warm smile too, and saw that Tommy was holding her hand and talking to her quietly at the kitchen table.

They had all had a good day, and Liz gave Tommy the job of talking Maribeth into joining them for Thanksgiving. But it was easily done, when he took her home after they'd done their homework in the living room, and they were sitting in the truck talking. She felt so nostalgic these days, so sensitive about so many things, and sometimes so frightened. Suddenly she wanted to cling to him, and hold on to him in ways she had never expected. She wanted to be with him more than she had before, and she always felt relieved and happy when he walked into the restaurant, or her room, or his parents' kitchen.

“Are you okay?” he asked her gently, as he saw she had tears in her eyes when she said she'd come for Thanksgiving.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she looked embarrassed as she wiped the tears away. “Just stupid, I guess. I don't know …things just make me cry now …they're so nice to me, and they don't even know me. Your mom has helped me with school, with everything …they've done so much for me, and I don't know how to thank them.”

“Many me,” he said seriously, and she laughed.

“Yeah, sure. That would really do it. They'd really thank me for that one.”

“I think they would. You're the best thing that's happened to my family in years. My parents haven't even spoken to each other all year, except to yell at each other, or say something mean about not putting gas in the car, or forgetting to let the dog out. They love you, Maribeth. We all do.”

“That's no reason to wreck your life, just because I made a mess of my own. They're just very nice people.”

“So am I,” he said, holding her tight, refusing to let her go, while she giggled. “You'll like me even better when we're married.”

“You're crazy.”

Yeah,” he grinned, “about you. You can't get rid of me this easy.”

“I don't want to,” she said, her eyes filling with tears again, and then she laughed at herself. She seemed to be on a roller coaster of emotions, but Dr. MacLean had told her it was normal. She was in her last month, and a lot of major changes were about to happen. And particularly at her age, and in her situation, a lot of emotional ups and downs were to be expected.

Tommy walked her slowly to the door, and they lingered for a long time on the steps. It was a clear cold night and when he kissed her good night he could feel her and the baby and he knew he wanted her forever. He refused to accept the idea that she might never many him, or sleep with him, or have his baby. He wanted to share so much with her, and he knew he would never let her go now, he kissed her again and then left her finally as he hurried down the steps looking handsome and tousled.

“What are you looking so happy about?” his mother asked as he came in after he took Maribeth home.

“She's coming to Thanksgiving,” he said, but she could see that there was more than that. He was living on dreams and hopes, and the excitement of first love. Sometimes he was so elated when he'd been with her he was almost manic.

“Did she say anything else?” His mother watched him carefully. She worried about him sometimes, she knew how much he was in love with her. But she also knew that Maribeth had bigger problems. Giving up a child was liable to mark her forever. “How is she coping with things? It's getting awfully close to her due date.” She was healthy, but in her case, that wasn't the problem. She had childbirth to face, with no husband, no family, a baby to give up, if she really did, and a difficult family situation to go home to. She was adamant about leaving them by June, if she even made it that long, which Liz sometimes doubted. She'd been gone for five months, and had been completely independent of them. It wouldn't be easy for her to go back now, and take whatever abuse her father chose to dish out for her transgressions.

“Is she really” serious about giving up the baby?” Liz asked, as she finished drying the dishes, and Tommy munched on some cookies. He liked talking to his mother, she knew about things, and girls, and life. They hadn't talked much in the last year, but she seemed more like her old self now.

“I think she is. I think she's crazy to do it. But she says she knows she can't take care of it right. I don't think she really wants to give it up, but she thinks she should, for the baby's sake.”

“The ultimate sacrifice,” Liz said sadly, thinking that there was nothing worse in the world for any woman to face, and wishing she could have another baby.

“I keep telling her not to, but she won't listen.”

“Maybe she's right. For her. Maybe she knows what she can and can't do right now. She's very young, and she has no one to help her. Her family doesn't sound as though they'll do anything for her. It would be a terrible burden, and she might hold it against the child. It might ruin both their lives if she kept it.” She couldn't imagine it, but in all fairness she had to admit that Maribeth's situation was anything but easy.

“That's what she says. She says she knows it's the right thing for her to do. I think that's why she doesn't talk about the baby much, or buy little baby things. She doesn't want to get attached to it.” But he still wanted to marry her and keep it. To him, that seemed the right thing to do. He was willing to shoulder his own responsibilities, hers, and someone else's. His parents had taught him well, and he was an exceptionally decent person.

“You have to listen to what she wants, Tom,” Liz warned. “She knows what's right for her, no matter how it seems to you. Don't try to force her into something else …” she looked at him pointedly then “…or yourself into something you can't handle. You're both very young, marriage and parenthood isn't something to be entered into lightly, or because you want to help someone out. It's a nice thought, but it's a lot to live up to. If things go wrong, and they do sometimes, you both have to be very strong to help each other. You can't do that at sixteen” … or even at forty or fifty …she and John had done so little to help each other in the past year. She realized now how lonely they had both been, how alone, and unable to support each other. They had been totally lost to each other.

“I love her, Mom,” he said honestly, feeling something wrench at his heart. “I don't want her to go through all that alone.” He was being honest with her, and she knew him well. She knew what he wanted to do for Maribeth, and however good his intentions were, or how sweet Maribeth was, she didn't want them to get married. Not yet, not now, and not for the wrong reasons.

“She's not alone. You're there for her.”

“I know. But it's not the same,” he said sadly.

“She needs to work this out. It's her life too. Let her find the right road for herself. If it's right for you both, one day you'll be together.”

He nodded, wanting to convince all of them that she should keep the baby and many him, but even Maribeth wouldn't agree to that, nor his parents. They were all being incredibly stubborn.

But on Thanksgiving they looked like one happy family, as they sat around the table. Liz had used their best lace tablecloth that had been John's grandmother's and a wedding present to them, and the china they only used on special occasions. Maribeth wore a dark green silk dress she'd bought for the holidays, and her thick red hair cascaded in generous waves past her shoulders. Her big green eyes made her look like a little girl, and in spite of her vast girth, she looked incredibly pretty. Liz had worn a bright blue dress, and a touch of rouge, which no one had seen in a long time. The men wore suits, and the house looked warm and festive.