the tea bag, milk, and sugar, so I simply hand the mug to Meggy and sit back down.
“Listen up, Gracie,” Meggy says. “I’m going to start with a story that took place when I was a kid. It’s something that happened all the time in the Irish community, but this is just one example.”
“It happened where I grew up, too.” Angel nods.
“There was a family that lived two houses down from us. They had eight or nine children, the normal amount in our neighborhood. Your mother and I used to baby-sit for them. Anyway, the oldest girl got pregnant when she was in high school. She was sent away on a trip before she started showing. When she gave birth, her mother adopted the baby and said it was the child of one of her husband’s business colleagues. The teenager then came back home and finished growing up. And it all worked out. The girl went to college and got married, and her little boy was raised by his grandmother, who loved him.”
A dark feeling fills my stomach, as if I have swallowed something that doesn’t agree with me. I must be misunderstanding the story. This can’t be headed where it seems to be. I try to keep my voice casual. “What happened when the kid found out who his real mother was?”
Meggy and Angel look at each other. “That’s not the point. The child could have just as easily been raised by a cousin or by an aunt. This practice was very common at the time. It’s like adoption, but within the family so everyone remains together.”
My body folds over slightly, protective against the hunger in my aunts’ gaze. The air in the room is so heavy I have a hard time opening my mouth. “You think I should give up my baby?”
“You’re barely showing, for being five months along,” Angel says softly.
“You haven’t told many people, right? Your mom has mentioned that you don’t have any girlfriends. And you have to admit that this is not the best time or way for you to have a baby.” Meggy’s voice is hard, insistent. “It might work out better if you waited.”
“You’re alone,” Angel says, her eyes down. “I’m married. I’ve been ready for a baby for years. He or she would be so loved. Your uncle Johnny would be a wonderful father. Can’t you see?”
“And the kid would be well provided for,” Meggy adds. “How do you plan to support yourself and a child? I bet you’re getting money from your grandmother, and that’s fine, but how long do you want to be on the dole from her? The only other person in the family she supports completely is Ryan. How would you feel about being in that company for the long term?” She shrugs. “It would make me feel like a loser.”
Angel says, “You’d get to see the baby as much as you want.”
I look down and see that my hands are gripping my stomach. I move them away and start playing with my hair, twisting and pulling at it. I’ve been trapped in a terrible nightmare. I have spent too much time alone and started to hallucinate. This is not happening.
“Does my mother know about this?”
“Of course not,” Meggy says. “I thought that if you were adult enough to get knocked up, then you were adult enough to make this decision.”
“Meggy,” Angel says.
“I’m keeping my child,” I say. The sentence rises out of me clearly, as the only thing I do know.
“Just think about it,” Meggy says, and stands up. “You’ll realize that the best thing you could do for this baby would be to give it to Angel and Johnny.”
Meggy takes Angel’s elbow and guides her up from her chair. Angel’s eyes, so sad and wanting, are fixed on my face.
“Just think about it,” she echoes.
I can’t seem to move, so I don’t see them to the door. I hear the door click shut, the clack of their shoes on the front walk, the hum of the car engine, and then I am left alone in silence, my hands back on my stomach.
I VISIT Gram later that day at the agreed-upon time. I considered canceling, but knew she would be disappointed, and then I would have had to see her tomorrow. There’s no point in putting Gram off.
On the way to the assisted-living center I stop at McDonald’s and buy a chocolate milkshake. The shakes seem to be my only pregnancy food craving. I am on