“Is she all right?” Jane asked anxiously, and her mother quietly nodded and sat down. She had been a good mother to both of them. She was a quiet, unpretentious woman, with good taste and sound ideas, and values that had served both girls well, although the sensible lessons she’d taught hadn’t done much to help Sarah with Freddie.
“She’ll be all right,” Victoria Thompson said, as she reached out for both their hands, and Peter and Jane held her hands tightly. “She lost the baby … but she’s very young.” Victoria Thompson had lost a baby, too, her only son, before Sarah and Jane were born, but she had never shared that sorrow with either of her children. She had told Sarah now, hoping to comfort her and help her. “She’ll have another baby one day,” Victoria said sadly, but she was almost more concerned with what Sarah had blurted out about her life with Freddie. She had been crying terribly, and insisting that it was all her fault. She had moved a piece of furniture by herself the night before, but Freddie was never there to help her. And then the whole story had come tumbling out, about how little time he spent with her, how much he drank, how unhappy she was with him, and how unhappy he was about the baby.
It was several hours before the doctors would let them see her again, and Peter had gone back to the office by then, but he had made Jane promise she would go home at the end of the afternoon, to rest and recover from the day’s excitement. After all, she was pregnant too. And one miscarriage was bad enough.
They had tried to call Freddie, too, but he was out, as usual, and no one knew where he was, or when he would be returning. The maid was very sorry to hear about Mrs. Van Deering’s “accident,” and she promised to refer Mr. Van Deering to the hospital if he called or appeared, which everyone silently agreed was unlikely.
“It’s all my fault….” Sarah was sobbing when they saw her again. “I didn’t want it enough. … I was upset because Freddie was so annoyed, and now….” She sobbed on incoherently, and her mother took her in her arms and tried to stop her. All three women were crying by then, and they finally had to give Sarah a sedative to calm her. They were going to keep her in the hospital for several days, and Victoria told the nurses she would be spending the night with her daughter, and eventually she sent Jane home in a cab, and then she had a long talk on the phone in the lobby with her husband.
When Freddie came home that night, he found his father-in-law waiting for him in the living room, much to his amazement. Fortunately, he had had less to drink than usual, and was surprisingly sober, considering it was just after midnight. He had had a boring evening, and had finally decided to come home early.
“Good Lord! … sir … what are you doing here?” He blushed faintly, and then flashed him his broad, boyish smile. And then he realized that something had to be very wrong for Edward Thompson to be waiting for him at this hour in this apartment. “Is Sarah all right?”
“No, she isn’t.” He looked away for a moment, and then back at Freddie. There was no delicate way to say it. “She … uh … lost the child this morning, and is at Lenox Hill Hospital. Her mother is still with her.”
“She did?” He looked startled, and felt relieved, and hoped he wasn’t so drunk that he couldn’t conceal it. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He said it as though she were someone else’s wife, and it had been someone else’s baby. “Is she all right?”
“I believe she’ll be able to have more children. What is apparently not all right, however, is that my wife tells me that things have been somewhat less than idyllic between the two of you. Normally, I would never interfere in my daughters’ married lives; however, in this rather unusual instance, with Sarah so … so … ill, it seems an opportune moment to discuss it with you. My wife tells me that Sarah has been hysterical all afternoon, and I find it rather significant, Frederick, that since early this morning, no one has been able to reach you. This cannot be a very happy life for her, or for you. Is there something we should know about now, or do you feel able to continue your marriage to my daughter rather more in the spirit in which you entered into the union?”
“I … I … of course … would you like a drink, Mr. Thompson?” He walked swiftly to where they kept their liquor and poured himself a liberal glass of Scotch, with a very small splash of water.
“I think not.” Edward Thompson sat expectantly, watching his son-in-law with displeasure, and there was no question in Freddie’s mind that the older man expected an answer. “Is there some problem that keeps you from behaving appropriately as her husband?”
“I … uh … well, sir, this baby thing was a little unexpected.”
“I understand, Frederick. Babies often are. Is there some serious misunderstanding with my daughter that I should know about?”
“Not at all. She’s a wonderful girl. I … I … uh … just needed a little time to adjust to being married.”
“And to working, too, I imagine.” He looked pointedly at Freddie, who had suspected that was coming.
“Yes, yes, of course. I thought I’d look into that after the baby.”
“You’ll be able to do that now a little more quickly, won’t you?”
“Of course, sir.”
Edward Thompson stood up, and he was a daunting vision of respectability as he looked over Freddie’s rather dishevelled state. “I’m sure you’ll be very anxious to visit Sarah as soon as possible tomorrow morning, won’t you, Frederick?”
“Absolutely, sir.” He followed him to the front door, desperate to see him out now.
“I’ll be picking her mother up at the hospital at ten o’clock. I’m sure I’ll see you there then, won’t I?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“Very well, Frederick.” He turned in the doorway and faced him for a last time. “Do we understand each other?” Very little had been said, but a great deal had been understood between them.
“I believe so, sir.”
“Thank you, Frederick. Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Freddie heaved a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him, and went to pour himself another Scotch before he went to bed, to think about what had happened to Sarah and the baby. He wondered what it must have been like, losing it, but didn’t want to ask himself too many questions. He knew very little about things like that, and had no desire to expand his education. He was sorry for her, and he was sure it must have been awful for her, but it was odd how little he felt about the baby, or for that matter, for Sarah. He had thought it would be so much fun to get married to her, parties all the time, someone to go out with whenever you wanted. He had never anticipated how shackled he would feel, how bored, how oppressed, how claustrophobic. There was nothing about being married he liked, not even Sarah. She was a beautiful girl, and she would have made the perfect wife for someone. She kept a beautiful home, cooked well, entertained beautifully, was intelligent and pleasant to be with, and he had even been excited by her physically at first. But now he just couldn’t even bear to think about her. The last thing in the world he wanted was to be married. And he was so relieved that she had lost the child. That would have been the icing on a cake he already knew was poisoned.
He showed up at the hospital the next morning, dutifully just before ten o’clock, so Mr. Thompson would find him there when he arrived to pick up his wife. Freddie looked somber in a dark suit and dark tie, and the truth was that he was extremely hung over. He had bought flowers for her, but she didn’t seem to care; she was lying in bed, staring out the window. She was holding her mother’s hand as he walked into the room, and for a moment he felt sorry for her. She turned her head to look at him, and without a word, tears rolled down her cheeks, and her mother quietly left the room, with a squeeze of Sarah’s hand, and a gentle touch on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Freddie,” she said softly, as she left, but she was wiser than he knew, and just from the look on his face, she already knew that he wasn’t.
“Are you mad at me?” Sarah asked him through her tears. She made no effort to get up, she just lay there. And she looked terrible. Her long, shining black hair was a tangled mess, and her face was the same color as the sheets, her lips looked almost blue. She had lost a lot of blood, and she was too weak to sit up. But all she did now was turn her face away from him, and he had no idea what to say to her.
“Of course not. Why would I be mad at you?” He moved a little closer to her, and moved her chin so that she would look at him again, but the pain in her eyes was almost more than he could bear. He wasn’t up to dealing with it, and she knew it.
“It was my fault. … I moved that stupid chest in our bedroom the other night, and … I don’t know … the doctor says these things happen ’cause they’re meant to.”
“See …” He shifted from one foot to the other, and watched her fold her hands and then unfold them, but he didn’t reach out to touch her. “Look … it’s better this way anyway. I’m twenty-four, you’re twenty, we’re not ready for a baby.”
She was silent for a long time, and then she looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. “You’re happy we lost it, aren’t you?” Her eyes bore into his until they almost caused him pain, as he tried to struggle with his headache.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. You’re not sorry, are you?”
“I’m sorry for you.” It was true. She looked really awful.
“You never wanted this baby.”
“No, I didn’t.” He was honest with her, he felt that he at least owed her that much.
“Well, neither did I, thanks to you, and that’s probably why I lost it.” He didn’t know what to say to her, and a moment later her father came in with Jane, and Mrs. Thompson was busy making arrangements with the nurses. Sarah was going to stay for a few more days, and then she was going home to stay with her parents. And when she felt strong again, she would go back to Freddie at the apartment.
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