The memory keeper's daughter - Kim Edwards [163]
“Mom!” Phoebe was exasperated. “Robert and me are getting married.”
Caroline replied without thinking. “You can’t get married, sweetie.”
Phoebe looked up, her face set in a stubborn expression Caroline knew well. Fluorescent light fell through a colander and made a pattern on her cheeks.
“Why not?”
“Sweetheart, marriage…” Caroline paused, thinking of Al, his recent weariness, the distance he put between them every time he traveled. “Look, it’s complicated, honey. You can love Robert without getting married.”
“No. Me and Robert, we’re getting married.”
Caroline sighed. “All right. Say you do. Where are you going to live?”
“We’ll buy a house,” Phoebe said, her expression intent now, earnest. “We’ll live there, Mom. We’ll have some babies.”
“Babies are an awful lot of work,” Caroline said. “I wonder if you and Robert know how much work babies are? And they’re expensive. How are you going to pay for this house? For food?”
“Robert has a job. So do I. We have a lot of money.”
“But you won’t be able to work if you’re watching the babies.”
Phoebe considered this, frowning, and Caroline’s heart filled. Such profound and simple dreams, and they couldn’t come true, and where was the fairness in that?
“I love Robert,” Phoebe insisted. “Robert loves me. Plus, Avery had a baby.”
“Oh, honey,” Caroline said. She remembered Avery Swan pushing a carriage down the sidewalk, pausing so Phoebe could lean over and touch the new baby gently on the cheek. “Oh, sweetheart.” She crossed the space between them and put her hands on Phoebe’s shoulders. “Remember when you and Avery rescued Rain? And we love Rain, but he’s a lot of work. You have to empty the litter box and comb his hair, you have to clean up the mess he makes and let him in and out, and you worry about him a lot when he doesn’t come home. Having a baby is even more, Phoebe. Having a baby is like having twenty Rains.”
Phoebe’s face was falling, tears were slipping down her cheeks.
“It’s not fair,” she whispered.
“It’s not fair,” Caroline agreed.
The stood for a moment, quiet in the bright harsh lights.
“Look, Phoebe, can you help me?” she asked finally. “Linda needs some cookies, too.”
Phoebe nodded, wiping her eyes. They walked back up the stairs and through the hallway, carrying boxes and bottles, not speaking.
Later that night, Caroline told Al what had happened. He was sitting beside her on the couch, arms folded, already half asleep. His neck was still tender, reddened from shaving earlier, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. In the morning he would rise at dawn and drive away.
“She wants so much to have her own life, Al. And it should be so simple.”
“Mmm,” he said, rousing. “Well, maybe it is simple, Caroline. Other people live in the facility and they seem to manage okay. We’d be right here.”
Caroline shook her head. “I just can’t imagine her out in the world. And she certainly can’t get married, Al. What if she did get pregnant? I’m not ready to raise another child, and that’s what it would mean.”
“I don’t want to raise another baby either,” Al said.
“Maybe we should keep her from seeing Robert for a while.”
Al turned to look at her, surprised. “You think that would be a good thing?”
“I don’t know.” Caroline sighed. “I just don’t know.”
“Look here,” Al said gently. “From the minute I met you, Caroline, you’ve been demanding that the world not slam any doors on Phoebe. Do not underestimate her—How many times have I heard you say that? So why won’t you let her move out? Why not let her try? She might like the place. You might like the freedom.”
She stared at the crown molding, thinking it needed painting, while a difficult truth struggled to the surface.
“I can’t imagine my life without her,” she said softly.
“No one’s asking you to do that. But she’s grown up, Caroline. That’s the thing. Why have you worked all your life, if not for some kind of independent life for Phoebe?”
“I suppose you’d like to be free,” Caroline said. “You’d like to