Eleanor had not been prepared for that question. For a second she froze, then quickly pulled herself together, remembered the instructions Dr. Miller had given her, and said:
— Natalie, sweetheart, the baby was stillborn. She never lived outside the womb, and legally in a case like that… they don’t release the body to the family.
— But you have connections. You could have asked. Pushed, — Natalie said, unexpectedly firm.
— Why? — Eleanor asked softly. — So you’d suffer every time you visited a grave? Try to understand — there was no life there to bury. You have to survive this and look ahead.
— Maybe that’s how it feels to you. But she lived inside me for nine months. I felt her. She responded to my voice, to my mood.
— Natalie, — Eleanor said, sitting beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders, — we’re with you. We’ll do everything we can to leave these dark days behind. You and Eddie have your whole lives ahead of you. Focus on the fact that you can still become a mother.
— What if I can’t? What if that was my one chance and I ruined it? — Natalie said.
— Don’t blame yourself. This was a tragedy no one could have prevented, — Eleanor said soothingly.
They sat in silence for a while. Eleanor exhaled in relief, thinking the difficult questions were over. But then Natalie spoke again.
— Eleanor… did you know our daughter was going to be different?
Eleanor calculated her answer.
— Yes, Natalie. Eddie let it slip once. And honestly, I took it calmly. Medicine can do so much now. No, they can’t cure a condition like that, but I would have done everything I could to help my granddaughter live a full life, — she said with practiced certainty.
Natalie looked at her with gratitude, hugged her, and for the first time since hearing the news, she cried.
Thank God, Eleanor thought. We’re past the worst of it. She’s accepted it. Now time will do the rest.
Days passed. Summer gave way to a mild, golden fall. Then the north wind came, and by December the city was buried in snow. Even longtime residents said they couldn’t remember a winter like it. The snow glittered in the sun and made everything feel almost festive. During that time, life in the Whitaker household changed too. The crisis seemed to recede. Grief and numbness gave way to something like hope. Natalie still thought about her daughter, but no longer with raw pain — more with quiet sadness and love.
Little by little she returned to ordinary life. She started seeing friends again, sometimes went out to a movie or dinner with Edward. It seemed to her that after all they had endured, their small family had become stronger, bound together by shared loss. One especially bright morning, Natalie felt she was finally ready to move forward.
— Eddie, — she said over breakfast, — what do you think about me going back to work? Not my old job, though. I don’t want people looking at me with pity or offering condolences. I don’t want to relive everything.
— Of course, — Edward said. — But maybe wait until after New Year’s. I was thinking we should take a trip somewhere first, let you recharge. And finding a job won’t be hard. You’re great at what you do. With your résumé, any company would be lucky to have you.
Over the next month Edward watched with relief as his wife came back to life. She smiled again, asked about his day, made plans. Only sometimes, when she was alone, she would take out the ultrasound photos and study them. The first one showed a tiny dot. Later came the outline of a little person. One of the last images she examined especially closely, and she couldn’t see the severe abnormalities Dr. Miller had described. A vague suspicion began to form, though she couldn’t yet put it into words.
Edward and Natalie spent New Year’s Eve alone. Eleanor stopped by briefly in the afternoon with gifts and a cake from an expensive bakery, but declined to stay for dinner.
— Don’t be offended, kids. I’ve got other plans, and honestly, I think it’s better if you two have the evening to yourselves.
Natalie silently thanked her for understanding and gave her the gift she had bought in advance. Two days later she and Edward left for the mountains, where they spent their time skiing, sledding, sipping mulled wine on the slopes, and enjoying rich comfort food. On Christmas night they sat wrapped in blankets on the balcony of their hotel room, watching fireworks bloom across the sky. Then one huge blue comet streaked overhead.
— Quick, make a wish before the stars fall! — Edward called out.
Natalie closed her eyes the way she had as a child and whispered something softly. When the last spark faded and the night turned still again, she said:
— I hope we wished for the same thing.
