I was thinking about Oberlin. She would still miss the fall starting date if she placed the baby for adoption. I wondered if she could go in the spring or would she have to wait until the following year?

“I’ll talk to her about it,” I said, knowing the conversation would not be easy or welcome.

“I think you need me to come up there and give you a hug,” he said.

He was right. That was exactly what I needed.

“Could you come right now?” I asked, feeling a little brazen. I remembered him holding my hand on his thigh. I wanted him to do that again.

“How about Friday evening?”he asked. “Can you wait that long?”

There was a hint of sexual innuendo in his voice that both surprised and titillated me and, however briefly, made me forget about Shannon’s dilemma.

“I’m not sure,” I said, “but I’ll try.”

I got off the phone and sat smiling for a moment. Amazing, I thought, that I could smile after a day like this one. I leaned my head back against the love seat and looked at my ceiling fan, which was spinning lazily. Could I do it? I wondered. Could I make love to Ethan? I rested my hand on my belly and felt my nipples harden at my own touch. Yes, I thought, I could.

I stood up and left the office, heading for my bedroom, remembering that long-ago priest telling me I must never commit the grievous offense of masturbation. I laughed out loud as I walked into my bedroom. This afternoon, I thought, I am going to sin.

CHAPTER 28

Maria

The day after I received the news about Ned Chapman’s letter to the police, Shannon showed up at Micky D’s while I was working. I hadn’t seen her since her graduation. She waved to me as she walked in the door and got in line. One look at her, and the suspicion that had formed in my mind at her graduation was confirmed: My seventeen-year-old granddaughter was pregnant.

I waited until she had gone through the line and taken a seat at a table before going over to her. I’d needed a few minutes to collect my wits.

“Hi, Nana.” She stood up to kiss my cheek and I sat down across from her, observing the Big Mac and milkshake on her tray.

“You know, Shannon,” I said. “That food is not good for your baby.”

Her eyes flew open wide. “Did Mom tell you?” she asked.

I wondered how long Julie had known and how long she’d planned to keep the news from me. I supposed she’d wanted to drop one bombshell on me at a time.

“I’m old, Shannon, but I’m not stupid,” I said. “I know a pregnant woman—a pregnant girl—when I see one.”

She looked down at her Big Mac, peeking under the bun as though studying the meat for doneness, and I figured she was waiting for me to chew her out. She was afraid, and my heart broke a little for her. I made a quick decision to be a better grandmother than I had been a mother.

“How did your mother take the news?” I asked.

“Like you’d expect,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Like my life is over. Ruined forever. She’s so—” She cut off her own sentence, looking away from me. “All she cares about is my music career. She doesn’t really care about what I want.”

She took a bite of her hamburger, looking around the restaurant instead of at me. The way she talked about her mother sometimes, you would think she hated her. Shannon reminded me so much of Isabel in the early sixties, while Julie reminded me of myself during that same time period. I could see my mistakes being played out all over again.

“When did you tell her?” I asked.

She swallowed her bite of hamburger. “Yesterday,” she said.

“And your father?”

“I told him last night.” She shook her head. “You know Dad,” she said. “He said ‘Oh, Shannon,’ and that was it. At least Mom yelled. Dad just…he can be so totally lame sometimes.”

“I bet it wasn’t easy telling them, huh?” I asked.

Her eyes filled suddenly, and she went from hardened young woman to scared little girl. I handed her a napkin, but she only clutched it in her hand as a tear fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek.

“Who is the boy?” I asked.

A light came into her eyes, the first glint of joy I’d seen since she walked into the restaurant. She told me his name was Tanner, that he lived in Colorado, and that she planned to move out there with him. That nearly stopped my heart. Please, no, I thought. It was bad enough she’d been planning to go away to college. I wanted my granddaughter in my life. I loved when she stopped by McDonald’s just to say hello. How many more years did I have? If she moved across the country, when would I ever get to see her? But I quickly got a grip on myself.

“I tell you what, Shannie,” I said, using the nickname I’d given her when she was a toddler. “If those plans fall through and you end up staying here, I’ll be happy to baby-sit for you.”

Her mouth fell open in surprise. Then she smiled.

“Nana,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling,” I said.

She pushed her Big Mac aside. “I think I’m going to get a salad,” she said, rising to her feet. I told her to stay put, and then I went behind the counter and got her the healthiest salad we made.

As I drove home later that afternoon, I felt good about how I’d handled things with Shannon. I thought I’d given her what she needed—some loving kindness, free of judgment. That’s what Isabel had needed, too, but that was not what she’d received from me.

My good mood ended the moment I got in my door. The phone was ringing, and when I picked it up, there was Ross Chapman once again.

“Maria,” he said. Even speaking that one small word seemed to be a great effort for him. The three syllables came out slowly, sadly. “Has your daughter told you what’s going on?” he asked.

I closed my eyes. I was angry beyond measure at him. I believed he’d lied for his son, and now he was badgering me for forgiveness he was never going to get.

“You mean, did she tell me about Ned’s admission of guilt?” I responded, and then I hung up. I had let that man toy with my mind before. It was not going to happen again.

1942-1944

On the first day of my senior year at the New Jersey College for Women, I arrived in New Brunswick still able to taste Ross’s kisses in my mouth and feel his hands on my breasts. We had grown ever bolder during that summer, each of us seeing several other people in order to avoid leading one person on, as I was afraid I may have done with Fred. Many of the young men—Fred included—were fighting in the war at that time, so Ross had quite a few more dating options than I did, but I did my best. Ross had been drafted, but at his physical exam they discovered a minor heart problem and he was classified 4-F. Although I was patriotic when it came to the war and felt everyone should do his or her part, I was relieved he did not have to go.

My parents had made friends with another couple in Bay Head Shores and they often went to their house to play bridge, leaving our bungalow empty. When I knew they would be gone, Ross and I canceled whatever dates we had for that night and we would have the house to ourselves, free to satisfy the hunger we felt for each other. The summer had been filled with cunning, deception, and a fierce physical passion. I could barely tear myself away from him that last night at the shore.

The fraternity down the street from our sorority house had a “welcome back to school” party the night of my arrival. I went with some girlfriends who were anxious to meet some of the Rutgers boys, even if most of them were “4-Fers,” but my heart wasn’t in it. I was standing in a doorway, missing Ross and already writing a letter to him in my mind, when a young man approached me. He walked with a pronounced limp, and something about his eyes reminded me of Ross. That was the only reason I could think of for the instant, feverish attraction I felt toward him. He introduced himself to me as Charles Bauer.

“A lovely girl like you shouldn’t be standing here alone,” he said. “Would you like to dance?”

“Sure,” I said. I moved easily into his arms. He was an awkward dancer because of his limp, but he didn’t seem at all selfconscious about it and I didn’t care a bit, because he felt like Ross in my arms. He was the same height, his shoulders the same slender width, and he used Canoe aftershave, the same as Ross. I inhaled as I rested my head in the crook of his neck, near tears with missing my lover.

After a few minutes, he leaned his head away from mine. “Is something the matter?” he asked.

I started to cry. He let go of me, took my hand and led me outside. We sat on the front steps, the sounds of the party behind us.

“What does a beautiful girl like you have to cry about?”he asked.

“I’m sorry,” I said, then lied because it was the only way I could possibly explain my sorrow. “I recently broke up with someone.”

“And you still care about him,” Charles said.

I nodded.

“That happened to me, too,” he said, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to me.

“Recently?” I asked, pressing the handkerchief to the corners of my eyes. He was very attractive. A gas lamp burned in the front of the yard and I could see that he did not really resemble Ross one bit. He was brown-haired, for pity’s sake, while Ross was fair. His eyes were also brown, while Ross’s were a smoky gray. But he was handsome, all the same, and sitting there, I still felt drawn to him.

“We broke up a while ago,” he said. “When I was stationed in Hawaii.”

“Hawaii?” I asked. I thought of his limp. “Were you at Pearl Harbor when…?”

He nodded. “That’s where I got this bum leg,” he said, patting his right thigh with his palm.