After Anna(3)
I hear sounds and voices.
‘It’s good, but it’s not, like, valedictorian good.’
‘But still! I’m proud of you!’
I feel guilty and ashamed of myself.
‘Thanks.’ Anna perked up. ‘I like your letters. It’s so old-fashioned to get a real letter, instead of email.’
‘I’m so happy you read them!’ Maggie wrote Anna once a month, figuring that one-way communication was better than none at all. She had no choice other than snail mail, since she didn’t have Anna’s email address or cell phone number.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t write back. I should have.’
Maggie felt touched. ‘It’s okay, you didn’t have to.’
‘No, totally. It’s rude.’
‘It’s not rude, honey!’ Maggie heard the honey escape her lips, naturally. ‘No worries!’
‘And thanks for the birthday cards, too.’
‘I’m happy to. I celebrate your birthday, in my head. It’s crazy!’ Maggie cringed, hearing herself. Crazy.
I can’t tell my husband how I feel.
‘I save the cards.’
‘Aww, that’s so nice. That’s really sweet.’ Maggie swallowed hard, thinking of Anna’s birthday, March 6. The labor and delivery had been difficult, an unexpected Cesarean, but Maggie didn’t dwell on that or what came after. All her life, what she’d wanted most was a baby girl.
‘And you know that navy fleece you sent me, last Christmas?’
‘Sure, yes! Did you like it? Did it fit?’ Maggie always sent up Christmas and birthday gifts. She’d had to guess at the correct size, so she bought medium. Anna’s social media had moody shots of Congreve, but the privacy settings were high and the school’s website said it frowned upon selfies and the like.
‘Yes, I wear that fleece all the time. My Housemaster thinks it walks by itself.’
‘I figured, Maine, right? It’s cold.’ Maggie wondered who Anna’s Housemaster was and what her dorm was like, her classes, her friends. It felt so awful being shut out of her daughter’s life. It was like having a limb amputated, but one nobody knew about. Maggie looked complete on the outside, but inside, she knew different.
I never thought I would feel this way.
‘Also, congratulations on getting remarried.’
‘Thank you.’ Maggie assumed Anna knew from her letters. She didn’t know if Anna felt uncomfortable about Maggie’s remarrying, but it didn’t sound that way. ‘Noah is a great guy, a pediatric allergist. I work part-time in his office, I do the billing, and I have a stepson, Caleb, who’s ten.’
‘It sounds great.’
‘It is,’ Maggie said, meaning it. She was so happy with Noah, who was loving, brilliant, and reliable. He’d been a single father since the death of his first wife four years ago, from ovarian cancer. Maggie had met him at the gym, and they’d fallen in love and married two years ago. And Maggie adored Caleb, a bright ten-year-old who was on the shy side, owing to a speech disorder, called apraxia.
‘Caleb’s supercute and – uh-oh. I just busted myself.’ Anna groaned. ‘I stalk you on Facebook.’
‘Ha! I stalk you, too!’ Maggie laughed, delighted. She had thought about sending Anna a Friend Request so many times, but she didn’t know what Anna had told her friends about her mother.
My baby would be better off without me.
Anna cleared her throat. ‘Anyway, I should get to the point. I was wondering if you wanted to, like, maybe, see each other? I mean, for dinner or something? Either here or in Pennsylvania?’
‘I would love that!’ Maggie dabbed her eyes. It was more than she could have hoped for. ‘I’ll come see you, to make it easier! Anytime, anywhere, you name it!’
‘Um, okay, how about Friday dinner?’
‘This week?’ Maggie jumped to her feet, excited. ‘Yes, totally! I’m so excited!’
‘Cool!’ Anna sounded pleased. ‘I didn’t know if you would want to. Dad said you wouldn’t.’
‘Of course I would!’ Maggie resisted the urge to trash Florian. She was trying to be better, not bitter, like her old therapist had said. It wouldn’t get her anywhere anyway, so late in the game. Florian had cheated her of her own child, exploiting her illness to his advantage.
I have thoughts of harming myself.
‘I’m glad I asked, you know? And I kind of want to know, like, what happened. With you.’
‘Of course.’ Maggie flushed. Her shame was always there, beneath the surface of her skin, like its very own layer of flesh. ‘Anna, I’ll tell you anything you want to know. You must have lots of questions and you deserve answers from me.’
‘Okay. There’s a place in town that’s vegetarian, is that all right?’
‘Vegetarian’s great!’ Maggie felt her spirits soar. ‘Anna, I give you so much credit for making this call. It couldn’t have been easy. You’re very brave.’
‘Aw, thanks. I’ll text you the address of the restaurant. Okay, bye, Mom.’
Mom. Maggie’s heart melted again. ‘Bye, honey.’
I have thoughts of harming my baby.
Maggie ended the call, jumped to her feet, and cheered. ‘Noah!’ she yelled, running for the back door.