Meadowlark by Wendi Stewart

Author:Wendi Stewart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: NeWest Press
Published: 2015-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

***

Elisabeth’s teeth are white and straight like Charlotte’s, as though they shared the same braces, the same mould to make them look like they belong to each other. Elisabeth’s hair is dark and coarse and twists into a French braid that Charlotte can do with her long thin fingers, supple like the rest of her. Elisabeth is small and compact. Charlotte’s hair is blonde, a faded yellow. Elisabeth used to put her fingers in it when she was little, and it felt like feathers, soft and thin and limp.

Elisabeth smiles like Charlotte, when Elisabeth smiles. She smiles in a reflex to Charlotte’s worried face. Charlotte looks closely at Elisabeth, like she’s trying to recognize her, pick her out in a crowd, a look that says she has a secret she’s trying to keep but keeping it is making her uneasy.

Charlotte’s voice is mostly a purr, a soft rumble that has no sharp edges, no shouts or unexpected outbursts; everything is controlled. Elisabeth’s voice doesn’t sound anything like Charlotte’s, but it still sounds foreign in her head, a sound she doesn’t recognize as though its rhythm and cadence are adopted. Adopted. Like Elisabeth.

Elisabeth can’t remember when Charlotte told her she was adopted. It was obvious. Elisabeth must have always known; her mother might have whispered it over and over with her lips pressed close to Elisabeth’s ear. I’m not really your mother, she might have said. My body never had to swell to hold your tiny folded body. I never had to endure the pain of getting you out. I am merely pretending to be your mother. Those were the words Elisabeth heard in her head over and over and over.

Adopted may have been Elisabeth’s first word. Not dada or some version of baby chatter, but adopted. The one word, waiting to find its way into a sentence. I am adopted. Someone gave me away, handed me over saying I don’t want this child. I don’t want her. I want something else, something different. You take her.

Elisabeth wonders if there is a sales room somewhere with a man sitting behind a desk in a suit with shiny trousers, the jacket on the back of the chair, with sweat circles under his arms, his sleeves rolled up. Does he thumb through a catalogue, scratching his head occasionally, as if trying to find a match gives him a headache?

Yes, well, we have a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy from good football-playing stock. Sure to be a handsome lad. Oh wait, wait, the man says, reading further, his finger guiding his eye. He has colic and cries a great deal. No one wants that, especially someone like you, without a husband, I mean, looking apologetic with a bit too much sympathy and his head tips to the side pretending he really cares when he doesn’t. He keeps thumbing the catalogue pages, shaking his head intermittently and clicking his tongue on the back of his dentures.

Wait a minute. We might have a match here. A baby girl. Native blood, but she’s lighter than most.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.