The motherhood mandate, p.19
The Motherhood Mandate, page 19
Zara walked through the meeting room door with Brittany, Emma, and Grace following closely behind like baby ducks. Grace was pulling a red plastic wagon behind her that was loaded up with assorted gift bags. She wheeled it over to the gift table for the group to unload.
While they were carefully placing the gifts on the pink and blue tablecloth, Mia and Zoey appeared, herding their family members into the room. A woman, with Mia’s long brown hair and interesting taste in fashion, carried two bags that bulged with assorted boxes. Zoey was directing a pair of older women who were similarly weighed down with gifts through the door.
Other family members drifted in as well. An older African-American woman held a little boy’s hand, who could only be Kwame, Zara’s son. Mothers, sisters, aunts, cousins, best friends. Everyone except Rylee had their plus one.
She turned away and looked out the window. This group shower was so depressing. It sounded like a great idea in the beginning. Weekly meetings had allowed them to get to know each other enough to be friends. Heck, a few might even become lifelong friendships. But they’d all split off into random clicks. Without Devi, Rylee was completely alone.
She glanced behind her. Erin was bent down in front of the gift table. She had lifted the front of the pink and blue tablecloths that draped the table and was pulling large white boxes out from underneath the table. Another woman pushed them off to either side of the table and piled them up like they were oversized children’s building blocks.
Something about the boxes drew Rylee’s attention. Each box was wrapped with an oversized ribbon and recipient names were printed large enough to read from across the room. Where had she seen that before?
Erin dusted her hands off, then turned to the crowd. “The Wisconsin Individual Family Education program is delighted to welcome everyone to our Motherhood Mentoring Circle’s group baby shower!” she told them. “Grab a plate and help yourself to some food. After everyone’s had a bite to eat, we’ll get started opening up gifts!”
“I’m hungry,” Kwame told Zara.
She smiled down at him. “I know,” she told him. “You know that you can’t have any cupcakes until after you have something else, right?”
The boy pouted for a moment. “Chocolate?” he asked.
Zara looked over to the dessert table. “Looks like, little man,” she assured him. “Let’s get you something to start with. I believe they have eggs and bacon.”
“Bacon!” the boy said, pulling on her hand.
Rylee waited until almost everyone had filled their plates, then grabbed a small bagel with cream cheese. She wasn’t very hungry these days.
Then, she took a seat in the back of the room, quietly eating as she listened to the murmurs around her. From time to time, other people in the room looked in her direction, but no one tried to include her in their conversation. It was as if she was beneath everyone’s notice.
She checked her phone while she finished up her last bite. No messages.
“All right, everyone,” Erin said, her voice cutting through the noisy conversation around them. “Time to move on to the gifts. Lots of them to open, and we only have the room booked until noon.”
Rylee quickly got up and tossed her plate into the garbage, then returned to her seat. She was as far away as she could get from the gifts. Most of the group looked happy that the program had sponsored this. After all, many of them were poor, or nearly so.
That’s why she’d thought long and hard about what she wanted to give the group. A few of them, like Brittany, were adamant about going organic all the way and damn the expense. But most of the group was much more practical, and that made it easier to decide what to buy.
“I’m going to ask everyone for a bit of patience,” Erin said. “Let’s get chairs set up at the front of the room so that we can pass out the gifts where everyone can see.”
There was a bit of chaos as the chairs were moved so that the mentoring circle sat facing the rest of the party. Rylee took a seat on the far end, near the conference room door, so that she could minimize the chances of her being included in pictures.
The other mentor, Katie, started by passing out the smaller gift bags. Once everyone had one, they were allowed to pull out the handmade baby bibs.
Lily smiled, laughing as she displayed hers to the group. “I made each of them based on what you shared about your baby room design,” she told them. “I’m going with an ‘over the rainbow’ theme, so I created baby lions and tigers and bears. Oh, my!” She laughed, then turned to Brittany. “You told me how much you love your princess theme, so I might have gone a bit overboard on the crowns.”
Cell phones were raised as friends and families took the obligatory pictures for social media and baby books.
Rylee looked closely at her bibs. She hadn’t gotten into the whole ‘theme’ idea. After all, they weren’t staying in that apartment very long. She’d just wanted the basics: the rocking chair that had been in Sam’s family for generations, a dresser her grandmother had been given as a child, a mid-century style changing table and crib. Nothing fancy. That could wait until they’d finished moving to Massachusetts.
Her bibs were bright red, blue, and green. Single-line stitching in the same color with a single snap at the back of the bib to keep it in place.
She looked over at Lily and smiled. Generic. Just like her relationship with the group. Rylee leaned off to one side and placed it on the floor next to her.
“Grab mine next,” Zara ordered. The cloth bags were duly passed out to the group. Each bag had a different cloth picture book.
On it went. Hooded baby robes. A growth chart for the wall. Baby booties, socks, and onesies. Even a small bag of assorted pacifiers.
“I believe that mine’s next,” Rylee told the group during a lull. She saw everyone look closely at the white boxes, but she shook her head. She got up and handed a small card to each of them.
Brittany frowned. “Gift card?” she whispered to Emma.
Everyone tore open the envelopes and stared at the card. Then, Charlotte let out a happy whoop. “Diapers?” she exclaimed with a large smile, struggling to her feet. “We’re going to get an entire month of them delivered to our homes?”
Brittany looked over at Rylee. “This is incredible,” she said in amazement. “How did you know that I only want cloth diapers for Aaron?”
Rylee smiled, trying to force as much happiness as she could into her face. “I listened,” she told her. “You talk a lot about organic and how much you and Noah are putting into sustainability. Cloth seemed to be the right choice.”
She looked over at the family members milling around and chatting. The group parted and, for an instant, she spotted her mom standing next to Katie.
Rylee sat back in her chair. Wow. So that’s who the boxes are from, she thought. Of course, they were. She should have recognized the boxes from the last gala she’d been forced to attend. White boxes with colorful ribbons? Classic Ashley Williams donation style. Simple design. Catches the eye and, even if it’s just a small gift, reinforces the feeling of having a huge benefit.
She shook her head and looked away. Whatever, Mom, she thought.
“Our last gifts were donated by the Eternal Springs Lutheran Church as a part of the ‘First-Time Mom’ Celebration,” Erin told them. “Go ahead and find the box with your name.” She waited until everyone had moved them over to their seat. “Don’t worry about how you’re going to get these back to your homes,” she told them. “The church will work with you to set up a delivery date.”
Erin nodded. With that, the women started to unwrap the bows and tear the wrapping paper. Inside was a generic box that, when opened, had an inventory list of the items inside.
Zoey gasped. “No way!” she yelled. “An infant car seat and stroller combo? Baby monitor, bouncer, and a newborn bathtub?” She leaned against the box, crying. “I can’t believe it!”
Emma and Grace high-fived each other, while Mia, Lily, and Charlotte seemed to compare notes. Only Zara and Brittany seemed to look a bit reserved. Zara, possibly because she still had some items from when Kwame was a baby, and Brittany, because she was rather picky about what she wanted to buy for her baby.
Rylee looked down at her box and carefully opened it. A pink envelope sat on top of the inventory list, her name elegantly rendered in dark green calligraphy. She carefully opened the envelope and stared at the card. A baby shower for Allison.
She calmly placed the invitation back in the box and looked up. Her mom was talking to Erin. She wasn’t wearing the standard understated but expensive pantsuit she typically wore to this type of event. Instead, she’d dressed down, wearing a pair of fresh jeans and a deep purple cashmere sweater.
She made eye contact with Rylee, raising an eyebrow to ask if she felt comfortable talking. Rylee closed her eyes and gave a quick shake of her head. It didn’t matter if the entire congregation had helped fund this First-Time Mom bundle or if the Williams Family Foundation had been responsible. This was quintessential Mom. Give an anonymous donation and stand back in the crowd to lap up the appreciation.
She looked around the room, sad. She knew that these donations made a difference for some of the women in her mentoring circle. This might even become a part of the family’s annual charitable donations.
It didn’t make up for the fact that her parents had agreed to essentially disown her and her daughter. So, no. She wasn’t going to that damn baby shower, period.
Chapter Fifteen
It took her mom only a few minutes to hunt her down after worship service was over. “Rylee, honey, why didn’t you sit with us?” Ashley asked, just a moment after she poked her head into the church kitchen.
Rylee studied the generic white coffee mugs she was assembling on the counter for the Ladies’ Brunch and Bible Study. They only had twenty cups, so she probably needed to do a quick headcount to decide if they needed to switch to paper cups.
“Look at me, Rylee,” her mom told her. “I know you’re upset about what happened, but your father and I—”
“Did nothing,” she finished for her. The coffee had already been taken out by another volunteer, and the only other thing that needed to be staged was sugar and creamers. She walked over to the refrigerator, making a wide turn around Ashley as she went to get the bin of creamers.
Her mom turned to follow her movement. She looked every day of her fifty-odd years. Rylee noticed that her tightly braided blond hair was at odds with her pale green pantsuit and clashed with the platinum earrings.
“Rylee, you know that your father and I love you, unconditionally,” she finally told Rylee. “But your grandfather has to protect the family’s assets.”
Rylee stopped piling the sugar on the cart and slowly turned to face her mother.
“It may feel like it’s personal,” Mom told her, almost wilting under Rylee’s glare. “But really, it isn’t.”
“Isn’t personal,” Rylee spat. “Really, Mother?”
Her mom slowly shook her head. “Every single decision made about the family trust has to be fully vetted by the legal team,” she reminded Rylee. “Their job is to make sure that we follow the law.”
“So, you just check the box and forget about what is ethically and morally right?” Rylee asked. “I didn’t realize our attorneys had that level of training!”
“Rylee, sweetie—”
“Don’t ‘sweetie’ me, Mom!” Rylee snapped. “You disowned me and took away everything I had!”
Her mom took a few steps forward, cocking her head in concern. “Your father is working on a way to replace the amount of money you lost because of Sam—”
Rylee banged her fists against the cart, rattling the mugs. “First Kathryn and now you!” she hissed. “Unbelievable!”
“What are you talking about?” Ashley demanded.
Rylee turned to her. “Everyone here seems to be under the impression that Sam forced me to get pregnant because he didn’t want to lose me,” she said.
Her mom flinched. “And you think that I had something to do with it?” she quietly asked.
“Didn’t you?” Rylee demanded. “This whisper campaign has your DNA all over it, Mom!” she snapped. “‘Rylee is such an innocent,’” she whined, mimicking her mom’s voice. “‘Sam must have corrupted our poor little angel!’”
Her mom looked down at the floor for a moment.
“So, you don’t deny it, do you?!”
Ashley put her hands up, almost like she was trying to push away the truth. “I don’t really know how that got started, sweetie,” she told her. “No one talks to me about your pregnancy.”
Rylee snorted. “I don’t believe you,” she told her. “You are so closely involved in every single aspect of the Women’s Ministry that nothing—and I mean nothing!—happens without you giving it the nod of approval!”
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!” her mom stammered, a guilty look creeping into her face.
“Really, Mother?” Rylee hissed. “Are you going to blame some nameless person who doesn’t even know anything about me beyond your carefully curated public persona?”
Her mom shook her head again. “I honestly don’t know, Rylee,” she moaned. “I’d say that Wendy Maxwell started it, but since it involves her son . . . ”
“No!” Rylee yelled. She held up a hand, stopping the volunteer who carefully pushed open the door to the kitchen to check on them. The woman took one look at her mom and ducked away, quietly closing the door behind her.
“Now, Mother,” Rylee said, her monotone voice low. “Who have you been talking to about my ‘condition’? Why have I been getting the random ‘we’re praying for you’ comments?”
Ashley looked down at her hands, then up at Rylee. “I confided in Melissa and Jessica very early in your pregnancy,” she admitted. “I never told them Sam forced you to stop taking your birth control pills!”
“I see,” Rylee said, the icy calm in her voice at odds with the tears that started to stream down her face. “So, you knew what the rumors were, but decided to do nothing about it. After all,” she added. “I’m just ‘the baby of the family’ and ‘easily manipulated’ by a smart boy like Sam!’”
Her mom started to say something, but Rylee sharply overrode her. “It all makes sense now,” she told her. “The strange looks at worship service. The concerned way people kept an eye on me when Sam and I were in the same room. Even the way Pastor Chapman has been acting!”
She wiped her hands across her face, pushing away the tears. Then, she grabbed the coffee cart and started to make her way to the door. “It may seem like I made a colossal mistake, Mother,” she told her. “But your granddaughter is a gift from God.” She stopped and glared at her mom. “There isn’t enough money in the world to fix this,” she told her. And with that, she backed the cart through the kitchen door.
Rylee was curled up on the futon couch, watching the rom-com she’d rented. Sam clambered down the stairs, breezing by her as he headed for the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Rylee called after him.
He stopped at the refrigerator and pulled a bottle of soda from the door. “I have a mentoring meeting tonight,” he told her.
Rylee struggled to get up. Allison swam from one side of her belly to the other, making it almost impossible to sit upright. “No, you don’t,” she told him. “It’s Thursday, not Friday.”
Sam put the bottle on the counter and grabbed his coat from the back of a kitchen chair. “Theo moved it this week,” he told her. “No big deal.”
“You’re lying!” she cried. “You’re going out to that bar again, aren’t you?”
Sam pulled his jacket on, looking at her with a guilty grimace. “You know that I can’t afford to be arrested again,” he told her. “I can’t have even a sip of alcohol until after the baby’s born, same as you!”
“Well, that didn’t stop you from going out before, did it?” Rylee snapped, finally able to walk after him. “Or are you headed over to Lucas’ place again for another off-campus party?”
“Off-campus party?” Sam glared at her. “What am I, a freshman? No, Rylee,” he yelled at her, grabbing his keys off of the hook by the door. “I’m not going to some off-campus party. Midterms are coming up, for heaven’s sake. No one has time for that!”
“Bullshit!” she yelled back. “You’re going out to party, Sam, and if you don’t stop right now, I’ll call the police!”
Sam looked at her for a moment, then opened the back door and stomped his way down the steep stairs.
“This isn’t over, Sam!” she yelled after him, looking wildly around the room for something to wear outside. She spotted her sweater on the rocking chair and moved as quickly as she could across the floor to get it. Then, she walked back to the kitchen, stomping her feet into her boots.
“You lied to me every single time you went out to that bar!” she yelled, carefully making her way down the stairwell. “You lie about everything! I’ve looked at your damn receipts and I know that you’re buying alcohol with your tips!”
She got to the bottom of the stairs and pushed open the back door. “Sam!” she yelled. “This isn’t over!”
Sam had already made his way across the backyard to the garage. He put his key in the door to unlock it, but turned around to look at her. “Rylee, give it a rest!” he yelled back at her. “These meetings are fucking mandatory and I’m not spending any more time in jail because you made me miss one!”
“Bullshit!” she shrieked, carefully making her way down the stoop. “Your meeting is tomorrow, not tonight! You’re going down to that bar again, aren’t you?!”
She walked down the icy path, glaring at him. The arctic cold was rapidly seeping past the loose weave of her sweater, but she was beyond caring. Everyone was abandoning her. Her friends. Her family. The fellowship. The hell if Sam was going to get away with leaving her, too!
“Rylee, I already told you Theo had to move this week’s meeting because he has to go out of town for the weekend! What the hell else do you want?” he barked at her. “A note signed by the Court?”
