After Anna(56)

‘Why?’

‘You’ll see.’ Maggie crossed to the closet, opened the door on the left, and rummaged on her side, which was markedly messier than Noah’s side, though in her own defense, she had dresses, shoes, sweaters, scarves, purses, and skirts, and he had testosterone. She retrieved the fancy blue Lanvin shoebox from the top shelf and brought it over to the bed, opening the lid.

‘What’s this?’ Anna shifted on the bed, leaning over the box, and Maggie sat down next to her, putting the box on her lap and digging inside.

‘These are my keepsakes from when you were born.’ Maggie picked out the item on top, a plastic baby bracelet that read Ident-A-Band. ‘Here, from the hospital.’

‘Oh my God, really?’ Anna looked over, and Maggie read aloud what was written on a piece of paper inside.

‘ “Girl of Maggie I. Desroches, 3/6/2000, 8:12 pm, BKF.” That’s you.’ Maggie felt her heart lighten, thinking back. ‘You were born at eight o’clock at night. Can you imagine your wrist was ever that little?’

‘No.’ Anna giggled. ‘I’m surprised you kept it.’

‘Your baby bracelet? I bet all mothers do. It’s precious.’

Anna slipped it over her index finger. ‘So little!’

‘You were only six pounds when you were born.’

‘Is that fat or skinny?’

‘Skinny. Fat was my department.’ Maggie smiled.

‘What does BKF stand for?’

‘Bolton, Kraus, Finer. That was my OB group. Dr Finer delivered you. He was great.’ Maggie felt a twinge, thinking back. Dr Finer had been a wonderful OB, the doc who confirmed her diagnosis of postpartum psychosis, but she didn’t want to think about that now.

‘Look.’ Anna slid two fingers inside the bracelet. ‘That was my entire wrist.’

‘If I rested you on my arm, you could fit almost completely on my forearm and hand.’

Anna smiled. ‘What happened the night I was born? Did it hurt?’

‘Well, that day I felt kind of tired –’

‘Were you throwing up?’

‘Not past the first trimester.’ Maggie threw up the whole pregnancy, but enough already. ‘So I’d read somewhere that the way to induce labor was to stay really active, so I went food shopping, and I was in the produce aisle when my water broke. I basically peed myself in front of the green peppers.’

Anna squealed, covering her mouth. ‘That’s so embarrassing! Then what happened?’

‘I didn’t know what to do, I just froze, then I realized that I had to get to a hospital.’

‘Did you call Dad?’

‘No, he was out of town.’ Maggie kept her smile on, even after she remembered that Florian had been in Palo Alto, allegedly trying to raise venture capital. She would learn later that he’d cheated on her with a blond Stanford senior, and Kathy would joke that he’d raised adventure capital.

‘So what did you do?’

‘I took a cab to the hospital, and Kathy met me there. You were born on your due date.’

‘Dad wasn’t there?’

‘He came later,’ Maggie answered, diplomatically. ‘He got the red eye out of San Francisco and was there just in time to say hello.’

‘Aw.’ Anna smiled, and Maggie returned to digging in the box. She pulled out a wrinkled white envelope, and on the front she had written in faded ballpoint, Anna’s First Curl.

‘You saved my hair?’ Anna laughed.

‘Sure. My mother saved my first curl, too. I have it somewhere, I think in my jewelry box.’ Maggie didn’t add that her mother had also saved her teeth, gross little nuggets bundled in a Kleenex and wrapped with a rubber band.

‘Can I see my curl?’ Anna shifted over.

‘Of course. You had such pretty hair, it was so soft and fine.’ Maggie unsealed the back of the envelope, yellowed with age.

‘When was the last time you opened this?’

‘I never have. I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t open it until I got you back in my life. I’ve never even gone in this box.’

‘Aw.’ Anna smiled softly.

‘And now we get to do it together.’ Maggie swallowed hard, unglued the back flap, and looked inside the envelope. There was a flattened C-shape of a brownish curl, and all of the memories came flooding back, like a wave of emotion. ‘Wow.’

‘Let me see.’

Maggie felt herself choke up, but kept it together. ‘I remember that I used to play with that curl while you were nursing. I used to curl it around my finger.’

‘I nursed?’

‘Yes, for about three months.’ Maggie shook the curl into her palm, then moved her hand into the waning sunlight, which caught the reddish highlights amid the light brown strands.

‘So much red! I don’t have that much anymore, do I?’

‘No, your hair’s browner now. Mine got darker, too, from when I was little.’

‘Dad had a lot of red in his hair.’

‘Yes, he did.’ Maggie shook the curl back into the envelope, thinking back to the time she had first met Florian. His hair was the best thing about him. It took her a decade to learn that looks didn’t matter. The fact that Noah was handsome was just gravy. He was a good man, and he probably already felt lousy about the way he’d acted, which he should.