AFTER
I'm giving it up
No more running around spinning my wheels
You came out of my dream and you made it real
I know what I feel
It's you
It's all because of you
You are the reason
"The Reason"
Celine Dion
May 21, 1952
Worcester, Massachusetts
The last time Chuck remembered being as nervous as he was now was his first day of classes his freshman year at Stanford. Or worse, the first day of high school. This morning, he had fussed over his clothing choices and forgotten if he had brushed his teeth. Sarah's experimental kiss, and subsequent confirmation that he had in fact already brushed his teeth, had been a bright spot of laughter in an otherwise nerve wracking morning.
Gertrude had left him a piece of toast, actual toast instead of just bread, which, according to Casey, was as close to heaven on earth as he would hope to come after so long without electricity, but Chuck's appetite was absent. Too many butterflies…no room for food.
Sarah had asked him twice what was the matter, why was he so nervous to visit Molly at the orphanage. He wasn't entirely sure, other than he knew he wanted to make a good impression.
As an adult, he had little experience with babies or young children. He wasn't sure how to act, what to say, what to do. Molly's deafness compounded the problem. He had never in all his life even been in a room with a deaf person, let alone interacted with one.
He recalled how Sarah had explained all Molly's difficulties. He was worried he would make them worse. Upset her, confuse her…even frighten her. After all, she lived in an orphanage with nuns. How frequently would she have interacted with any adult males?
The entire time Sarah had spent getting ready, Chuck had studied Sarah's sign language manual. It was too much to expect to know everything, but there were a few basic things he looked up, in hopes that he could show Sarah he was trying. He would learn, he told himself. He would figure it out so he could communicate with his child.
His child.
The words sounded like thunder in his head, rooting him to the ground like a lightning strike. He had pledged it, fully sincere…but the reality of it still bowled him over whenever his thoughts cycled back around to the idea.
Bryce was Molly's father. There was a high probability that Bryce had died before he ever knew he was going to be a father. Had he survived his tour of duty with the army, this entire scenario would be drastically different, more complicated. Thinking of what could have been, what might have been, was a waste of energy. Chuck knew that from experience. The actualities crowded out the possibilities. Bryce was dead…and Molly was an orphan. She needed a mother and a father. The unspoken part of Chuck's wedding vows to Sarah had implied he would be Sarah's husband…and the father to her children.
Just as there were many different kinds of orphans…there were also different kinds of parents, mothers and fathers. Biological parents…like Gertrude and Casey's parents, both sets completely unknown to the both of them. Or like Bryce to Molly and Eleanor. It required nothing other than a reproductive gamete, like he'd learned in science. That, and the initial act of procreation, occurring while both mother and father were unaware. Real parents were those who could not only call themselves mother and father, nouns, but who mothered and fathered…verbs. Stephen and Mary Bartowski, Emma Burton…even Gertrude and John Casey…they were real parents. Jack Burton, sadly, had been somewhere in between, mostly noun and precious little verb.
That uncategorizable nature of Sarah's father had contributed in a broad way to the fact that Chuck was volunteering to do what in essence John Casey had done for him…be a father to a child not of his body, but his heart.
Casey would growl at me if he ever heard me say that.
He might, but it was true. And because of that love offered to a heartbroken child so long ago, Chuck had the strength and the will to do the same for the child of the woman he loved. They were a family. All that was left was getting everyone under the same roof. Safe. Home.
By the time he pulled his car into the parking lot of the orphanage, turning off the ignition, he realized his jitteriness wasn't anxiety or nerves…it was excitement. Ever since he had learned of Molly's existence, he had been picturing her, imagining what she would look like. He wanted to see her at last. His heart was buoyant as Sarah smiled at him, taking his hand once they were out of the car and walking down the sidewalk.
It was a beautiful late spring day, the sky blue and clear from horizon to horizon. As they walked, Chuck could hear the sounds of children…talking, laughing, squealing. Off to the left, beside the building encased in a short fence, was a playground. A group of children were outside, supervised by a small group of nuns. It was a school day, so these children were younger than school age, toddlers, Chuck surmised.
As they walked closer, he got a better look at the children. They were playing in a sandbox, tossing a ball, playing on swings and a short jungle gym. Chuck counted close to ten, boys and girls, all a flutter of activity. Seated at a small wooden picnic table, one child sat separately, a picture book on the table in front of her.
She seemed oblivious to her surroundings, to the noise, her focus intent on the book. She had platinum blonde hair, fine ringlets barely covering her head, crazily sticking out in every direction despite the valiant attempt to tame them with a hair ribbon. They were a good distance away still, but even from there, Chuck could see the deep turquoise blue of her eyes.
He had stopped walking forward, unaware of his own body, utterly transfixed as he looked.
Molly.
"That's her," Sarah whispered, pointing where his eyes were already focused.
Chuck watched her tiny, chubby hands carefully reach and turn the page of her book. He could see her scanning the pictures, watching her expression change as the pictures she was looking at changed.
He didn't know he was crying until his vision became so blurry the little girl went out of focus. His breath left him, but the love that surged inside him, so unexpected and so overwhelming, filled his veins, suffused every part of him with life. Sarah's hand, squeezing his, brought him back to the ground from such an impossible height that for a second, he thought he had glimpsed heaven, or eternity.
"She's beautiful," he whispered, his voice sounding foreign to him. Slowly, he looked down at Sarah, out of the corner of his eyes. "Just like her mother."
Sarah smiled, tucking his hand, wrapped in hers, against her chest, overwhelmed by his words. Her love shone in her eyes; nothing more was necessary.
The rest of the walk inside felt like it was made on air, like he was floating. The nuns greeted him; he spoke with kindness in reply, though even after he had spoken, he couldn't remember the words he had used. Sarah was speaking, and he could hear the sound of her voice, but not the words. The sound was enough, melodic like music and infused with joy.
The sight of Sister Katherine, standing in the doorway to the vestibule that led outside, snapped him out of his trance. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Bartowksi," Sister Katherine said warmly. "We met yesterday at your house. I'm Sister–"
"Katherine," he answered with a smile. "I remembered."
Sister Katherine was tempering her response, Chuck could tell. She smiled at Sarah like she would have a close friend, even a family member. She was poised, professional, in front of her Mother Superior, but her green eyes were dancing with excitement, barely contained.
"We don't have a lot of male volunteers, especially during the day like this," she said, loud enough for the other nuns to hear. "But come with me. You can come outside with the preschoolers."
Chuck and Sarah followed the nun down the hallway. When they were alone, out of earshot of the other nuns, Sister Katherine stopped, turning around to address Chuck directly. "I'm so glad you're here," she sighed. Turning to Sarah, she added, her voice lower, "You told him the truth."
Sarah nodded silently.
"Mr. Bartowski–"
"You can call me Chuck…if, you know, you're allowed to…or whatever…" he rambled.
"Ok, Chuck," she answered with a smile. "You described him very accurately, Sarah," she added, smirking. To Chuck, she said, "In mixed company, in an informal setting, first names like that are acceptable."
She paused, started walking again, beckoning over her shoulder for them to follow. "When Sarah was here, you were all she ever talked about. I feel like I've known you just as long as she has." She stopped, turned, first looking at Chuck, then down, her face flushing slightly. "I assumed you were the babies' father, mistakenly of course. Once I realized the truth, it made so much more sense to me. She obviously loved you so much…it didn't make sense to me, how you could abandon her when she needed you. But you weren't their father, and worse, you didn't even know."
"If I had known, I wouldn't have left her here, regardless of who the babies' father was," Chuck told her, amazed at the intimate conversation he seemed to be having with a stranger. She was a nun; maybe that was why it didn't bother him. He assumed her intentions were pure.
Sister Katherine studied him. The depth of her stare was a bit unnerving, but he endured it. "I believe you would have. That was why I risked serious censure, even excommunication, to find out where the baby was taken. I didn't know all of this would happen," she said, waving her hand to encompass the building, the current state, "but I thought at the least, Sarah could find comfort knowing her daughter was safe…and loved.
"I've seen so many young girls here, having babies out of wedlock, locked away from the world for secrecy's sake. They're afraid, uncertain. Giving up a baby is never easy, but I know the mother eventually comes to accept that adoption in that situation is the best choice, what is best for their baby. Sarah was…different. I didn't understand, but I wanted to. She was so…alone. Solitary. It made the idea of giving her baby away so much more painful.
"I believe everything happens for a reason, a reason known only to God and revealed to his children at the time and in the manner that is appropriate. The key is paying attention."
She was young, but she was wise, Chuck thought. It made sense that she had befriended Sarah. It made him feel better about the time she had spent here, alone, sad, from what he had read in her letters. A bright spot in an otherwise dark situation.
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Sarah led Chuck by his hand towards the little girl at the table. Chuck watched as Sarah changed her approach, making sure she was directly in front of Molly. She was trying not to startle the child, gradually walking into her line of sight. Chuck stayed a step behind her, still cautious, worrying that his appearance, a stranger, could frighten her.
"I'm going to talk out loud and sign at the same time," Sarah said as she released his hand and started signing. Her hands were a blur, a sign of her mastery. He tried to study her, remembering the few bits he had practiced that morning. "It's like talking in front of a baby. That's how they learn when they can hear. It's how I'm hoping she will learn, even though she can't hear."
All at once, Molly looked up from her book. Molly's face lit like the sun when she saw Sarah.
Bryce was her father, but all Chuck could see when he looked at Molly was Sarah. She looked so much like her mother, how had anyone here not known Sarah was her mother? Molly's eyes were a deeper blue, but her hair, the curve of her cheek, even softened as it was in her cherubic visage, was all Sarah. Chuck hadn't known Sarah when she was this young, but he had seen pictures she had kept from her mother's collection. It was like gazing back in time.
Molly raised both hands, reaching for Sarah eagerly, making a sound unlike any Chuck had heard before. The volume was louder than he expected, the tone off. She can't hear her own voice, he had to remind himself.
Sarah rushed to sit beside Molly on the stool for the picnic table. He had tears in his eyes again as he watched the little girl snuggle against Sarah, comforted. Molly tucked her face against Sarah's arm, a child's understanding of peekaboo–if she couldn't see, he couldn't see her. She was shy at the sight of him.
Sarah tapped Molly's arm, waited for Molly to look up, and then said, "This is my husband." Sarah signed along. "He wanted to say hello." The "hello" was Sarah's hand up straight, and her four fingers bent forward and back. Chuck repeated the motion so Molly could see.
He was relieved when, a little reluctantly, the girl made the sign, roughly, compensating for her plump little hand.
Chuck's smile lit his face. Molly's smile, spontaneous in reply, was uplifting, relieving.
"Are you looking at your book?" Sarah asked, signing.
Molly understood what Sarah signed, because she immediately sat forward and turned the book to another page. From what Chuck could tell, it was an alphabet book, full of pictures and drawings categorized by letters of the alphabet. Molly had turned to the page with pictures of animals on it.
Chuck thought his heart was going to burst inside his chest. This must have been a favorite activity. There was a routine, he noted, as he watched them interacting. Molly would point, Sarah would sign. Ant, bear, chicken, dog…by the time they were at frog, Molly was giggling. Her voice was unusual, not what he expected, but her joy was unmistakable, and that was all that mattered. Molly's finger lingered over the "o" picture, the owl. Sarah made the sign.
Molly looked up at Sarah, stretching out the fingers on her right hand as far as she could, and tapped her chin with her middle finger. Chuck heard Sarah gasp and watched as she blinked rapidly, fighting tears.
"Yes, that's my favorite," Sarah whispered slowly, repeating the sign Chuck had witnessed, but more deftly and gracefully.
Sarah looked at Chuck. "She's never done that before. Made that sign," Sarah exclaimed.
"Pretty long first word," Chuck said with a smile.
"It's easier to sign than to say," Sarah explained.
Chuck took a deep breath. He hadn't thought of that, coming to sign language long after learning to speak. He lifted his right hand, curling his fingers in and then pointing his pinky finger into the air, followed by an arc from in front of him to his chest. "I," he started. Next, he took his right hand, tucked in his thumb, bent his other four fingers forward, and tapped them against his forehead, "know."
Sarah looked on the verge of completely breaking down, so touched that he had learned any sign language at all. She still smiled, but her cheeks were wet. Curious, Molly leaned forward, touching the wet streaks on Sarah's cheeks. Then Chuck watched as Molly reached her hands over her head, then pulled them down while she intentionally frowned.
"No, I'm not sad," Sarah answered, mimicking Molly's movements. "I'm happy," Sarah said, placing her palm flat against her chest and sweeping upward and outward.
Molly studied Sarah for a second, a curious look on her face. Then she looked over at Chuck, no longer shy, instead curious. She jumped off of the seat, slowly teetering on her feet around Sarah to get closer to Chuck. Molly made the same sign that she had started with, probably because she saw the tears on his face as well.
Chuck mimicked what he had seen Sarah do. "I'm happy. So happy," he breathed.
Smiling, Molly made a rudimentary approximation of the sign they had both done. Without a warning, Molly leaned forward and raised her arms at Chuck, the universal sign to be picked up. Chuck didn't need the sign language book for that. Gently, he tucked his hands under her arms and lifted her onto his knee. Carefully, he arranged the child so she was facing Sarah.
Sarah's fingers were steepled over her mouth, her eyes glowing with love and tenderness as she watched them together. Over Sarah's shoulder, Chuck could see all three nuns, Sister Katherine included, who now stood smiling, watching what had transpired. Chuck bowed his head, brushing the top of Molly's head with his cheek. She smelled the way Sarah had when she was small, baby powder and lavender.
There was nothing in the world at that moment but the woman he loved, and the emotion she had for him as she watched him with her child… their child…in his arms. This was his world, his home. His family.
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They left the orphanage and went straight to Burton Carmichael.
Chuck had initiated the conversation with the director of the orphanage, telling her of their intention to adopt Molly. It was a bit disheartening when the first thing out of the director's mouth was a laundry list of difficulties both they and Molly would face. Not about the adoption process itself, but about her needs and the special care she would require. Chuck could understand, they were looking out for Molly's best interests, trying to keep her life as stable as possible, without another uprooting and then failure.
He listened, telling the director he understood, and nothing was changing their mind. The director looked relieved, probably because Chuck's sincerity, his tenacity, was irrefutable.
Chuck called Roan from the orphanage, unsure if the factory had telephone services restored, and told Roan to meet him and Sarah at Burton Carmichael. The legal paperwork could be expedited, so that the waiting time to bring Molly home would be only about a week. First, the paperwork, then the rest of the day he planned to spend with Sarah, making plans, making purchases, to make their home ready for a toddler.
When they arrived, two people were waiting to meet with Chuck. Agnes rushed from her desk to hand Chuck his messages, mumbling something about not being sure when and if he was coming to the office today. He apologized for not letting anyone know where he was, then thanked her for taking his messages.
"Mr. Bartowski, Mr. Winterbottom and Mr. Babinska are both waiting to talk to you. Physically waiting, sir," she added urgently.
Hartley's presence Chuck could suss out, after the proposal he had made before the tornado. He was probably trying to ensure that production was up and running again in order to meet the new demand from the market overseas. Dominic Babinska's presence, however, he had no clue about, and it worried him.
Both men jumped from their chairs as Chuck approached his office door, still holding Sarah's hand. "Can I help you?" Chuck asked both of them.
Hartley was all smiles, while Babinska looked irritated. Still, Babinska made a gesture with his hand, inviting Hartley to go first. He walked with Chuck to the door.
"I'll let you gentlemen talk," Sarah said as she released Chuck's hand.
"Oh, no, young lady, this involves you as well," Hartley told Sarah.
All three of them entered Chuck's office together.
"What about Sarah?" Chuck asked immediately.
"Oh, uh, yes," he stammered. "First, you are up and running, correct? I hear the machines on the factory floor, all your workers busy as bees down there."
"Yes. The power is back on. We are up and running and able to make all of our orders on time," Chuck confirmed.
"Good, good, good," Hartley chanted, rubbing his hands together. "My buyers will be pleased. And speaking of buyers," he added, his voice rising with excitement, "there is a contingent of industry leaders from Europe who plan to come to America next month, a summit of sorts, looking to procure exports…all kinds of finished goods. I got Burton Carmichael on the schedule."
"That's great news, Hartley!" Chuck beamed. "Thank you so much."
"This is where you come in, my dear," Hartley added, turning to Sarah. "You speak German, correct?"
She nodded. "And Spanish and French," she added casually.
"Really?" Hartley exclaimed, his smile growing to fill half his face. "That's even better! Do you think you would be able to act as a translator? Mr. Rubinstein doesn't speak a word of English. And if you speak French and Spanish…good Lord, Chuck, you need to hire this girl. Multi-linguality is an enormous asset in business in today's world."
"Really?" Sarah countered. "I don't know that a job is what I'm looking for. I'm more concerned with taking care of my house and my family."
Chuck's smile was enormous, bright as he thought about Hartley's words. "Sarah, you are still technically my business partner. Who says you can't work and still take care of your family?"
"It wouldn't be all the time, you see. Just for situations like this," Hartley clarified.
Chuck became a bit more serious. "This would be a great way for you to learn more about the business. You're so smart. There's no reason why you can't help me run our business." He had been thinking ever since he realized the reason why Sarah had never gone to college was because she had never officially graduated from high school. Their family was taking priority right now, but Sarah was young. She had plenty of opportunities. He wanted to help instead of hinder.
"That sounds great!" Hartley exclaimed. "The date is June 29, Chuck. Mark your calendar. That, my friend, is the day I believe you will become a very wealthy man."
Hartley left, all smiles, before Chuck had the chance to tell him. Chuck was already the richest man in the world, and it had nothing to do with money or his business. He had something priceless, abundance and blessings. And the reason, as always, was Sarah.
Then Chuck faced Babinska.
