Part 12 (1/2)

”Aunt Linda lost her baby.”

This happens to poor Linda a lot. ”That's awful.” Pregnancy and miscarriage talk used to make me squirm, but now it's fascinating. I gaze at Mom. She would have liked more babies-I'm sure of it.

”This was her sixth miscarriage.”

”I'm really sorry.” I squeeze Mom's shoulders. ”Can I get you some herb tea? How about that violet kind you like?”

”I'm fine. Can you sit a minute?”

I perch on the edge of one of her wingback chairs. I feel stupid with the chicken leg in my hand.

”They did some testing on the fetus.”

I'm not so hungry anymore. The smell of the chicken is turning my stomach.

”And ran some genetic tests on Linda.”

”That's all she needs. They should leave her alone.”

”But now she knows what's going on.”

”They found something?”

Mom nods. ”It's genetic.” She pauses, looks at me intently. ”Linda is a carrier of what's called a trisomy-a triple chromosome. Very rare.”

”And it causes miscarriages?”

”Babies that have it either die and miscarry”-Mom swallows hard-”or are born with severe mental and physical handicaps. Linda's doctors told her not to try anymore.”

”But Anna,” my cousin, ”is fine.”

”She could be a carrier.”

A shudder goes through me. ”I'm sorry, Mom. Poor Aunt Linda. That's all she needs.”

”Honey.” Mom looks down at her hands and then forces her eyes back to my face. ”You need to be tested. You could be a carrier.”

”What do you mean?”

”From . . . him.” Dad? Even gone-ruining my life, finding a way.

”That means . . . all my babies . . . ” Will die? Be severely handicapped? I'm not sure what they mean by that. There's a kid in a wheelchair at school. He's kind of twisted and talks weird, but he's smart. I could deal with that. I could love a child like that. Even a baby who wasn't smart. I think you'd end up loving them even more. They'd never grow up. Always be with you. I'd like that. I'd never be alone again.

But all of Aunt Linda's babies died. Except Anna. ”Did you have miscarriages, Mom?”

She shakes her head. ”I just got pregnant the one time. With you.”

I guess nature made me a beast for a reason. Too ugly to attract a mate and pa.s.s on the curse. Would an adopted baby love me or be frightened like those kids at the library last summer? Do they give children to single beasts?

Mom gets up and hugs me. ”You'll be fine. It's nothing to worry about.”

I hug her back and try to believe, but the quiver that runs through her body makes it difficult.

Over her head I catch a reflection of myself in the window behind her desk.

Dyed, straight blonde hair.

Perfect clear skin.

No thick gla.s.ses.

I'm beautiful.

But inside, I can't escape. I am what I am.

My world was close to change.

Breaking these shackles,

My bid for freedom

So near this time.

But chains still bind me tight.

All my cries

For love, for hope