“I can’t do that without her permission, and she doesn’t seem to take them into account any more than she does me.”
The following Sunday Reverend Klepper saw how the fabric of Emilia Mae’s dress stretched tight across her stomach and asked again if she had spoken to her parents.
“I saw my father at the bakery last week,” she said. “He made some comment about how old Sam Bostwick was feeding me well. But I could tell by the way he watched me waddle that he knew it wasn’t the food. When I asked him what he meant by that, he said that he and my mother saw what was happening and did I understand that this was a small town and that they couldn’t afford to have people gossiping? I told him I did, but he shouldn’t worry, you were going to help me get free of it.”
Reverend Klepper stepped forward. “I hope your father doesn’t think I’m going to help you get an abortion.”
“I didn’t say how you’d help, just that you would.” Emilia Mae spoke in a flat tone until she got to this part. Then she raised her voice: “It’s time now, don’t you think? This thing is kicking and pushing me, and if we don’t do something soon it will be too late. What are you waiting for?”
Reverend Klepper sighed, his shoulders fell. He prayed for patience. It came fitfully. He took her hand. It felt warm and fleshy. “I’m going to tell you some very grown-up things so listen carefully. My wife, Cora, and I have been married for twenty-two years. We’ve wanted a child for all that time, but God has never blessed us with one. What you have is a miracle, one that Cora and I still pray for every day. Wanting an abortion is only your way of saying that you’re terrified. That’s understandable. When your time comes, it will be bloody and painful and very scary, I’m sure, but on the other side of it you’ll have a child, your own child. Then you can decide whether or not you want to keep the child or give it up for adoption. Do you understand?”
She stared at him as if she were puzzling something out. “Do you think it’s possible that maybe you and Cora would like this baby? You know, to adopt it?” Emilia Mae’s eyes had sunk into her cheeks in the past month. It took Reverend Klepper a moment to realize she was crying.
“Don’t say things like that unless you’ve given it lots of thought. Adoption is a decision you can’t un-decide. As for me and Cora, it’s a kind thought.” He placed his hand gently on her stomach. “But I think we’ll wait until the Lord blesses us with one of our own.” His smile was faint. “Right now, this child’s life depends on you. You matter more than anything in the world to it. Please take care of yourself.”
“I’m glad I matter to somebody,” she said loudly.
Reverend Klepper lowered his head and rubbed his brow with his thumb and forefinger.
“I’m sorry,” Emilia Mae whispered.
“No need to apologize. We all raise our voices in times of excitement.”
“Not about yelling,” she said. “I’m sorry about you and your wife.”
On the morning of June 9, Emilia Mae woke up in a pool of sweat. An unexpected heat wave bore down on New Rochelle with such ferocity that the main roads gave like mud underfoot. Nauseated and dizzy, Emilia Mae felt as if her insides were wringing themselves out. She turned on her side and waited to die. When the pain subsided, she called out for Xena, but Xena didn’t come. She gathered her soaked bedclothes around her and walked in slippered feet to Reverend Klepper’s house, only minutes away from the inn. Cora was awakened by the sound of what she thought to be a cat in heat. Or was it an injured dog? She got out of bed and went to the window. In the first light of morning she saw the young girl lying on the ground, curled up as if she’d been shot.
“Aloysius,” she cried. “It’s Emilia Mae.”
Emilia Mae must have passed out, because she had no memory of what came next. When she woke up, she was in the New Rochelle hospital. She swam in and out of the ether; the bitter taste of it stuck in her throat. Figures moved about like shapes on the other side of a rain-splattered window. Someone was asking, “Emilia Mae, can you hear me?”
Reverend Klepper.
She closed her eyes and tried to re-enter the tranquility of darkness, but it was too late. Pieces of reality were starting to float together.
“It’s over,” he said.
She tried to ask what happened, but had trouble moving her lips.
“It was touch and go there for a while. The baby had its cord wrapped around its neck. You had a cesarean. Thank God for Dr. Rogan.”
Emilia Mae tried to sit up, but the parts of her body required to do so felt as if they were ripping. She lay back down and saw that Xena was sitting at the foot of her bed with a bundle in her arms. Just then, Cora Klepper walked into the room with Earle in tow. “Look who’s here,” said Cora. “It’s Grandpa!”
Earle blinked back tears as he looked at his daughter and the baby. “Your mother sends her love,” he lied. “She’s holding down the fort at the bakery, but she’ll come soon.”
“You have a little girl,” said Xena, placing the baby on Emilia Mae’s chest. “God bless her.”
Reverend Klepper showed Emilia Mae how to hold the baby’s head just so. Cora’s eyes widened as she watched her husband. “How do you know so much about how to hold a baby?” she asked.
“I have done a few baptisms in my life,” he answered, still fussing with the baby.
All these people gathered around her brought Emilia Mae back to her fantasies about the Oz brothers. She wished she still believed in them; they would have loved this.
For the next two days, Emilia Mae lay in her hospital bed getting to know her baby. She had a tiny red face and looked unlike any creature Emilia Mae had ever seen. She was swaddled in a blue and pink blanket and had a pink cap on her head. She was as light as a freshly baked loaf of bread and smelled like one, too. Emilia Mae would stroke her face. Her nose was so small that Emilia Mae wondered how would she be able to breathe out of it. Her lips were red, and her cheeks were as soft as flower petals. Emilia Mae would loosen the swaddle to play with the baby’s fingers and toes. She’d put her finger in the baby’s hand and the baby would squeeze it. Once the baby even looked her straight in the eyes. Emilia Mae thought, She must already recognize me. When she drew the baby to her breast, the baby would put her mouth around Emilia Mae’s nipple and suck. Her body was warm, and Emilia Mae thought she could feel the baby’s heartbeat. Or was it her own? She could do this. She would be a good mother, unlike her own. She promised herself that this child would never feel unwanted.
On the third day, Xena was visiting Emilia Mae when Cora and Reverend Klepper showed up. “We have a surprise guest,” Cora announced, then left the room for a moment.
“Ta-dum!” she announced as she led Geraldine through the door. Geraldine looked nearly as shocked as Emilia Mae. She was still wearing her bakery apron and hadn’t had time to wash the flour from her hands. “Yup, here I am. Not that I had much choice. Cora showed up and said she wouldn’t leave until I came with her. I would have come anyway, I just needed to find the right time.”
“Well, this was the right time then, isn’t that so, Ally?” said Cora.