Ten

The doctor had been there four hours already and Mrs. Ellison, the housekeeper, kept bringing clean towels and removing soiled ones from Vivian's bedroom. Adam had smoked two cigars as he paced in the hall outside the bedroom and he had drunk countless cups of black coffee, all made stronger with a dash of Kentucky bourbon. He was haggard, his eyes bloodshot as his wife struggled to give birth behind closed doors. Each time he heard Vivian moan or cry out, Adam swore to himself there would be no more children—no more.

"Mrs. Ellison," Adam said as she came out of the bedroom, "please, how is my wife?"

The housekeeper looked at Adam with intense sympathy. "She's working at it. The doctor says it won't be long now. I'm to get more cold clothes; she's a bit feverish."

"Feverish? She's ill as well?"

"Now, Mr. Cartwright…" but Mrs. Ellison stopped as an infant's plaintive wail filled the air. "Sounds like your child has arrived." She smiled at him but Adam wasn't looking at the diminutive woman; he stared at the partially opened door. Adam gingerly pushed it open and stared at Vivian as she lay on the bed, her gown plastered against her, her hair wet with sweat, strands sticking to her neck and her face pale as death.

"Vivian?" Adam approached the side of the bed, fear strangling him. He bent to pick up his wife, to clutch her to him but the doctor intervened. Mrs. Ellison had followed Adam in and she had readily taken the newborn from the doctor and wrapped it in a towel as the child continued to wail.

"Mr. Cartwright," the doctor said, putting his hand on Adam's arm to restrain him, "your wife is exhausted and needs her rest. Let her sleep. We'll watch her fever but I don't think it's anything to worry about. Once Mrs. Cartwright is cleaned up and rested, I think she'll be herself again. And I'm a bit proud to say that I just delivered into this world one of the most beautiful baby girls in all my years as a doctor; she'll grow up to be as beautiful as her mother. Now I have to go—I'll check on Mrs. Cartwright tomorrow. Thank you for your help, Mrs. Ellison and I'll see myself out."

Mrs. Ellison, smiling, brought the infant over to Adam who was loathe to take the child. His daughter was so small, her fists so delicate and tiny and at the end of each finger was a perfect fingernail, small and pink.

"Here, sir, take her—yes, just hold her and rest her head in the crux of your arm." Adam held his daughter, amazed by her angelic face. She was a beautiful child and he imagined that Vivian had looked thus when she was born. Mrs. Ellison looked on and smiled at the large man holding his tiny daughter.

Then Adam looked to Mrs. Ellison. "What about my wife? Is she going to be all right?" He looked to the bed and saw Vivian's chest barely rise and fall.

"Yes, sir, she'll be fine. If you leave, I can clean up in here and help her change into a fresh gown. Now take your daughter and go sit with her; she'll sleep for a bit like her mother."

"If it was a girl, we were going to name her Rose Elizabeth," Adam said, looking at his daughter, "but I think now that I've seen her, that it should be Lily, Lily Elizabeth."

"Lily Elizabeth," Mrs. Ellison said. "That's a lovely name. I think it's fitting as well. Lilies spring up and then show their beautiful faces." Mrs. Ellison gave Adam a little push. "Now go spend some time with your daughter, Lilly as you'll need to take her to Mrs. Askew tomorrow."

Suddenly, the idea of sending his child, this beautiful creature in his arms to be taken care of by another woman seemed repugnant but he had agreed. He had met Mrs. Askew and her children and her husband and he and Luke Askew had discussed animal husbandry. Luke had said that some of his cows had come down with a respiratory issue and although with time and the money he had, most had pulled through. Of those which did, most had very low milk production until they fully recovered which would take time. So when he and his wife were approached by Mrs. Ellison, they had agreed that Mrs. Askew should become a wet nurse. Luke made a joke about his cows not being the only ones to earn money by giving milk. Adam had smiled at the remark but was concerned. But Vivian and Mrs. Askew sat and talked over tea while her youngest son, Jack, fussed in her arms until she put him down. Adam half-listened to their conversation.

"That's when you know they're ready to be weaned," Mrs. Askew said. "They won't sit still long enough to nurse but it does help to calm them down to sleep."

"He's two," Vivian said, "correct?" Mrs. Askew said that yes, he was and Vivian asked if her child would need to be nursed for that long.

Mrs. Askew laughed and put a comforting hand on Vivian's hand. "Oh, no, ma'am. I suppose that it's just something I enjoy, having them close. A year or slightly less usually does it. After that, well, they can easily bottle-feed and can be given regular food fixed for their small mouths and their teeth coming in. You'll see, ma'am. It all works out."

"And I can come see the child?" Vivian asked, a note of apprehension in her voice.

"Of course, as much as you want, anytime you want. Trust me, ma'am, I'm always here." She laughed and Vivian seemed to relax a bit.

That evening as Adan drove their buggy home being gentle not to rattle Vivian, Adam broached the subject of the wet nurse again. "Are you determined to have our child raised by another woman, Vivian? You can change your mind, you know."

"Yes, I know." A silence fell between them and then Vivian spoke quietly. "I wonder if I'll make a good mother, Adam. I'm afraid I won't. I wish I were like Mrs. Askew; she seems to be at ease with her children, handling all their problems. Did you see, Adam, how she took care of all of them? And she has so many children and yet…" Adam could hear from her voice how close to tears she was.

Adam put his arm around Vivian and pulled her next to him. She rested her head on his shoulder. "Not everyone's the same, Vivian. And…if you looked like Mrs. Askew, I'd divorce you. I don't know how her husband tells her from his white-faced Guernseys." Vivian looked up at him, tears about to spill but she began to laugh lightly as the tears fell down her cheeks.

"Oh, Adam, I do love you so." She moved closer to him and Adam sighed in contentment. Although Vivian didn't bow under to his demands and was rarely in fear of his ranting, she did try to please him. Adam loved his wife and was happy in that love, exultant in her love for him. And Adam never doubted that Vivian loved him. Never.

Vivian came down the stairs of their New York townhouse. Adam, who sat of the sofa waiting for her, stood up when she descended. His mouth had dropped slightly; she was stunning in a purple dress, her luxuriant hair piled on top of her hair and accented with a jeweled purple plume and her long strand of pearls wrapped five times around her neck, the longest section reaching almost to her waist. It had been a gift from Adam for giving him a daughter, Lilly, his Lillabeth, as he called her. Adam had never spent so much money on any piece of jewelry he had bought Vivian but then she had never had his child before and risked her life. It was the first time they were going out socially since Lily's birth and although Vivian was rounder, her figure more curvaceous, Adam preferred it to her earlier youthful slimness.

They were going to the Christmas ball of one of Adam's best and wealthiest clients and Adam knew that Vivian would be the center of attention when they walked in; she always was.

"Don't you get jealous?" a friend, Tom Benson, had asked him at one occasion where Vivian had danced continuously with one partner after another.

"Why should I be?" Adam had asked as he drank a glass of punch that had been piquantly spiked with Jamaican rum.

"Because just about every man in this room is probably having lustful thoughts about her. Don't take this the wrong way, Adam, but a man gets the impression that she just might give him a tumble."

Adam drew himself up and replied sarcastically and threateningly. "Now why would I take something like that as an insult? Just because it appears to be one? Do you have anything else to say about my wife? If you do, I will be glad to meet you at an appointed time to defend her honor."

"No, Adam, look," the man said, holding his palms out as a sign of submission. "I was out of order—I apologize if what I said…excuse me. I see someone I need to speak to." And the man practically slunk off.

And Adam had watched Vivian, how she smiled and was an animated conversationalist in another man's arms. And when the dance was finished, he went to Vivian and took her in his arms and he remained her dance partner the rest of the night and was rewarded with her flirtation with him. He felt as if he was falling in love with her all over again and then he well understood why Benson had asked him if he was jealous. And that night as he took her in the darkness of her room, he was slightly cruel and it made him feel better when he left her heavily breathing as she lay on the damp sheets while he went to his own room to have a satisfactory night's sleep.

Before they had traveled to New York for the Christmas ball, Adam and Vivian had gone to see Lilly. Vivian had said that she needed to see Lilly since it might be at least a week before she saw her again. Lilly was almost three months old and was thriving with the wet nurse. Adam would go to visit the child with Vivian a few times a week and as Vivian would hold their daughter and coo to her and walk with her around the room, Adam was struck by how lovely she was. To him, seeing Vivian as a mother added a new dimension to her and increased his love for her. He saw her now as more than a sexual partner; she was his way to leave a dynasty behind him, to make sure that his blood ran through the veins of future generations. And after a few weeks, Vivian began to sob on the way back to their house after visiting their daughter.

"Why don't we bring Lilly home," Adam said in an effort to console his wife.

"It's too late for me to nurse her, my milk has dried up," Vivian sobbed. "Oh, Adam, I wish I had kept her with me. Each time I leave, it's as if my heart stays behind."

Adam was tempted to remind Vivian that it was her desire to hire the wet nurse and she therefore had no right to complain, but he couldn't. Vivian was so distraught over leaving her child that he couldn't hurt her more. "It will be fine, my love. I'll ask Mrs. Askew the earliest that Lilly can be weaned. All right?"

"Thank you, Adam."

He held the reins with one hand and with the other pulled out a handkerchief. "Here, wipe your nose. You're as bad as Lilly." Vivian took the handkerchief and lightly laughed.

"I love you," she said and slipped her arms through his, leaning her head against his arm.

And Adam drove along the roads of the countryside to their home. He was building a stable on the property. He had decided to buy a racehorse and Vivian had mentioned that she liked to ride. He was looking for a gelding for her and that was how he came upon the racehorse, Folly's Hero. Adam thought that he would have to write his father and invite him out. Adam wanted Vivian to meet him and wanted his father to see Lilly. He thought that in the morning, once he arrived at the office, he would write home—it had been so long and he knew that his family must be worried. But the next morning he had two clients waiting for him and the day went by without another thought of a letter home.