The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb - Melanie Benjamin [124]
“Country doctors.” Mr. Barnum snorted. “I’ll find the finest New York doctor and send him to Middleborough.”
“Yes, that would be a relief.” I nodded, hesitating—but then I decided to plunge forward, as time was of the essence. “However, would he be willing to—I know there are things you can do, if the health of the mother is in question. It’s probably past the stage of any prevention powders, but—”
“What? Prevention powders?” Mr. Barnum stared at me, aghast; then he blushed. He actually blushed; I had never seen him do that, not even when the wild Circassian girl asked if she could dance bare-bodiced at the Museum. “What on earth do you know about such things?”
I met his gaze levelly. “When I was on the river. A girl—a dancer—once thought I might need something of the kind. She was quite mistaken, I’m glad to say. However, it was the first time I had heard of these things, and now I’m happy that I did, for I can think clearly about Minnie’s situation.”
“Vinnie, you never cease to amaze me,” Mr. Barnum said, grasping my hand. “You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met.”
I smiled at him, happy to hear this; it filled my soul with gratitude and yearning and other unfamiliar emotions that I usually did not have time to miss—except when I was with him. But now was not the time to reflect upon such things.
“We need to consider the option of doing—something—so that Minnie does not carry the child to term.”
“But do you think there’s the possibility that the child might be tiny, as the doctor says?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that Minnie and I were not. Nor was Charles, remember? That’s three of us who were born normal-size that I know of—and that’s enough for me. I have no idea how we’ll be able to convince her, for she is over the moon with happiness—she said she’s doing this for me, too.” And now I was face-to-face with the hard, unpleasant truth of the matter, the factor I had tried my best to ignore but which would not go away. I looked at him and took a big breath. “All that baby business, back in the sixties. It broke her heart to say goodbye to those infants. She keeps saying how glad she’ll be not to have to say goodbye to her child, how happy Charles will be, how happy I must be. She thought I mourned those children just as she did, but I did not. She says she’s so glad she can do this for me! So it’s all my fault!”
“The one thing you cannot do is blame yourself.” Mr. Barnum shook his head. “Believe me, I know. When I lost Pauline last year, I couldn’t stop blaming myself, wondering if I could have seen the symptoms earlier.”
“But this is different! Pauline died of fever! I have pushed Minnie into making a decision that will cost her her life.”
“You don’t know that, Vinnie. You don’t know if she wouldn’t have done this anyway.”
“She never would have met Edward if it wasn’t for me!”
Mr. Barnum pressed his crooked lips together, as if trying to prevent himself from saying anything further. He did not; I think he understood that I needed to say these things. Instead, he pushed himself off his seat and lurched over to my side of the carriage; he put his arm about me and gathered me close so that I could lean my head against his broad chest. He had never touched me in this way before; always he had been proper, respectful. A kiss upon the cheek in greeting, a fond handshake when embarking upon a new venture, a pat on the back in farewell.
But never had he held me; never had any man held me like this, so completely, as if he had a right to do so. Not even my husband, who would not have attempted to unless I first instructed him how. But I would never have done so; it was not in my nature, so accustomed was I to cringing from a man’s touch, fearing the intent behind it, fearing my own helplessness in the face of it. I had never before missed being held.
Until now.
I felt my limbs loosen; no longer did I feel responsible for holding them together