| General Fiction posted September 14, 2020 |
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(1,439 words) Making up for the past
A Woman of Experience
by LisaMay
pregnancy Contest Winner
A single woman in her later years, Miss Amanda Cressford’s appearance did not make her stand out. Of average size, with greying hair cut in a short bob, she wore her understated clothes with informal elegance. She might not have made a memorable visual impact, however, none of ‘her girls’ ever forgot the kindly disposition which shone through her calm blue eyes. Blue is usually described as a cool colour, but somehow her eyes always glowed with the warmth of compassion and understanding.
Over the years, Miss Cressford had opened her home and her heart to provide board and lodgings to various female students who attended the local university. She was known for her loving concern and motherly touch with the young women who lived under her roof. Often it was the first time away from home for these girls; Miss Cressford’s accommodation offered a tone of respectability and hospitality that reassured anxious parents. The girls entered as hesitant strangers, and left as friends – with each other, as there were usually at least two girls in residence, but more especially with Miss Cressford herself. She had the subtle knack of proximity and invisibility through knowing when to encourage with an all-seeing eye, and when to turn a blind eye.
The driving forces in most young women’s lives – Miss Cressford considered – were romance and passion. She was not unacquainted with these forces herself. She knew, from personal experience, how an attentively charming young man could entice a love-hungry girl to dream of her forever future, wrapped in the romantic mists of happily-ever-after. Oh, how easy it was to be carried away with the emotional intensity of the moment, transported on wings of desire, to feel the bliss of loving and being loved.
She also knew, from personal desolation, how that future could be snatched away when the dream was a mismatch. Her young man had succeeded in his conquest and then moved on to another, leaving Amanda not only bereft but also with a heart-breaking decision to make.
In truth, the decision had been forced on her “to preserve the good name of the family”. The impact of that decision continued to haunt her through the following years, all the time wondering… wondering...
She’d promised herself that should it be necessary, she would provide the comfort and support to any young woman who found herself in the same position, something her own judgmental parents had denied her.
* * *
Flurries of exam panic, hangovers, dramas of friendships gone wrong, heartbreak, – Miss Cressford had seen it all in her large, rambling bungalow, but mostly the girls had been quietly intent on studying towards their degrees. All she had to do was provide meals and clean linen, a warm environment and a companionable ear if they chose to share anything with her.
Now here she was, currently with three intelligent young women to watch over: polite Janet – a studious, reserved girl; helpful Susanne – a tall, slightly awkward country girl; and sassy, quick-tongued Carly, dressed in outrageous thrift-store finds.
Amanda was experienced enough to know that judging these three books by their covers at first glance could be entirely misleading.
Once shy Janet came out of her shell, could she be the one to become a problem, after discovering the thrills of freedom away from parental overview? Or maybe it would be gullible Susanne who could suffer at the hands of city sophisticates. Carly exuded confident worldliness and appeared immune to upsets.
Amanda did not intrude on their privacy, but her manner and genuine interest meant she was often privy to the girls’ comings and goings. Indicative of closeness, she was “Miss Cressford” to their parents, and “Amanda” to the girls. As the months passed, she was sometimes included in their activities: meeting Janet to view an exhibition, joining Susanne for a coffee at the mall when an afternoon lecture had finished, or going to watch Carly play basketball. Maybe they thought she was lonely, and they had assumed the role of looking out for HER. Perhaps they were missing their grandmothers.
Amanda found it intriguing watching the young women develop into their personalities. They were certainly willing to tell her things, sometimes too much so! How times had changed; she would never have dared tell her parents half of what these girls got up to with their social lives, but they seemed to value her comments, in fact they eagerly sought her opinion. Were they showing off, boasting, or did they tell her such things because they needed guidelines? Of course it was both; Amanda had experience enough to recognise the shock value of youthful bravado and rebellion, mixed with a desire to understand more as adulthood emerged.
Amanda thought back to her relationship with her mother, wondering whether the dismaying news of her unplanned pregnancy might have been handled differently if the communication lines had been more open between the two of them.
* * *
From experience, Amanda knew that intelligence was no guarantee of moral behaviour, but she was privately aghast that Carly was so lacking in boundaries. Surely she should have some insight to the risks her lifestyle posed? Amanda had come to realise that Carly’s forward personality was a bold front; her promiscuity was a cry to be loved, yet all it attracted was shallow abuse of her underlying sensitivity.
Amanda came home one afternoon, arms laden with groceries, and as she entered the kitchen she glanced at the three girls seated around the table. An air of concern hung heavy in the room; one look at Carly and Amanda knew that something serious was afoot. Practical Susanne helped Amanda put the groceries away, then she whispered: “I think we need to talk to you about something.” Janet was gripping Carly’s hand and the three of them were clearly trying to come to terms with some major event.
Seating herself across the table from Carly, Amanda reached for her other hand.
“What’s happened, and how can I help?”
Carly pulled her hand away, but only to brush tears from her face. She tilted her chin defiantly, then her face crumpled.
“I’m pregnant...”
Janet turned to Amanda and said earnestly: “I suggested she should have an abortion. She’s getting really good marks, so why throw graduation and a career away? Heaven knows who the sperm donor is. Children need two parents. I’m not saying this to be horrible. It makes sense. Carly, your mum and dad need never know. You can start a family later, when you’re ready.”
A shadow flickered in Amanda’s blue eyes. Suppressing a quick comment, she waited for the girls to finish speaking, while momentarily lost in her memory of waking up after the gruelling delivery of her own baby, whom she never saw or held, and being told she’d never have another.
“That’s your punishment,” her mother had said reprovingly.
“Then I’ve been punished twice,” Amanda had sobbed.
Meanwhile, it was Susanne’s turn for an opinion: “I’m adopted and I know my parents were ecstatic to have the chance of becoming a family when they got me. Carly, you’d be doing another couple a big favour by allowing them to adopt your baby – and it would have two parents.”
“But what about what I want?” wailed Carly. “It’s mine! I’m only crying because I want it so much. I love it already. I want to keep it, but how will I look after it? Mum and Dad will have a fit when I tell them. They sacrificed a lot so I could come to Uni. Maybe I won’t tell them. I can’t face their disappointment. I’ll have to run away.”
“No you won’t,” Amanda said firmly.
Three strained faces turned towards her. “You have to give your parents a chance, so you must tell them, and then handle the consequences. It seems huge now and obviously it won’t be easy, but the most important thing is to decide what YOU want to happen. Yes, you might provide a solution to other people’s issues if you have an abortion or the baby is adopted, but you’ll have to live with your decision forever. If you feel in your heart that you want to keep your baby, and if you think it’d be any help if I spoke with your parents… well, we can see this through together. I will support you.”
While the three young women were absorbing Amanda’s words, she was thinking: I let my own baby down, but I’ll make sure this little one has a chance of growing up with its own mother.
A single woman in her later years, Miss Amanda Cressford’s appearance did not make her stand out. Of average size, with greying hair cut in a short bob, she wore her understated clothes with informal elegance. She might not have made a memorable visual impact, however, none of ‘her girls’ ever forgot the kindly disposition which shone through her calm blue eyes. Blue is usually described as a cool colour, but somehow her eyes always glowed with the warmth of compassion and understanding.
Over the years, Miss Cressford had opened her home and her heart to provide board and lodgings to various female students who attended the local university. She was known for her loving concern and motherly touch with the young women who lived under her roof. Often it was the first time away from home for these girls; Miss Cressford’s accommodation offered a tone of respectability and hospitality that reassured anxious parents. The girls entered as hesitant strangers, and left as friends – with each other, as there were usually at least two girls in residence, but more especially with Miss Cressford herself. She had the subtle knack of proximity and invisibility through knowing when to encourage with an all-seeing eye, and when to turn a blind eye.
The driving forces in most young women’s lives – Miss Cressford considered – were romance and passion. She was not unacquainted with these forces herself. She knew, from personal experience, how an attentively charming young man could entice a love-hungry girl to dream of her forever future, wrapped in the romantic mists of happily-ever-after. Oh, how easy it was to be carried away with the emotional intensity of the moment, transported on wings of desire, to feel the bliss of loving and being loved.
She also knew, from personal desolation, how that future could be snatched away when the dream was a mismatch. Her young man had succeeded in his conquest and then moved on to another, leaving Amanda not only bereft but also with a heart-breaking decision to make.
In truth, the decision had been forced on her “to preserve the good name of the family”. The impact of that decision continued to haunt her through the following years, all the time wondering… wondering...
She’d promised herself that should it be necessary, she would provide the comfort and support to any young woman who found herself in the same position, something her own judgmental parents had denied her.
* * *
Flurries of exam panic, hangovers, dramas of friendships gone wrong, heartbreak, – Miss Cressford had seen it all in her large, rambling bungalow, but mostly the girls had been quietly intent on studying towards their degrees. All she had to do was provide meals and clean linen, a warm environment and a companionable ear if they chose to share anything with her.
Now here she was, currently with three intelligent young women to watch over: polite Janet – a studious, reserved girl; helpful Susanne – a tall, slightly awkward country girl; and sassy, quick-tongued Carly, dressed in outrageous thrift-store finds.
Amanda was experienced enough to know that judging these three books by their covers at first glance could be entirely misleading.
Once shy Janet came out of her shell, could she be the one to become a problem, after discovering the thrills of freedom away from parental overview? Or maybe it would be gullible Susanne who could suffer at the hands of city sophisticates. Carly exuded confident worldliness and appeared immune to upsets.
Amanda did not intrude on their privacy, but her manner and genuine interest meant she was often privy to the girls’ comings and goings. Indicative of closeness, she was “Miss Cressford” to their parents, and “Amanda” to the girls. As the months passed, she was sometimes included in their activities: meeting Janet to view an exhibition, joining Susanne for a coffee at the mall when an afternoon lecture had finished, or going to watch Carly play basketball. Maybe they thought she was lonely, and they had assumed the role of looking out for HER. Perhaps they were missing their grandmothers.
Amanda found it intriguing watching the young women develop into their personalities. They were certainly willing to tell her things, sometimes too much so! How times had changed; she would never have dared tell her parents half of what these girls got up to with their social lives, but they seemed to value her comments, in fact they eagerly sought her opinion. Were they showing off, boasting, or did they tell her such things because they needed guidelines? Of course it was both; Amanda had experience enough to recognise the shock value of youthful bravado and rebellion, mixed with a desire to understand more as adulthood emerged.
Amanda thought back to her relationship with her mother, wondering whether the dismaying news of her unplanned pregnancy might have been handled differently if the communication lines had been more open between the two of them.
* * *
From experience, Amanda knew that intelligence was no guarantee of moral behaviour, but she was privately aghast that Carly was so lacking in boundaries. Surely she should have some insight to the risks her lifestyle posed? Amanda had come to realise that Carly’s forward personality was a bold front; her promiscuity was a cry to be loved, yet all it attracted was shallow abuse of her underlying sensitivity.
Amanda came home one afternoon, arms laden with groceries, and as she entered the kitchen she glanced at the three girls seated around the table. An air of concern hung heavy in the room; one look at Carly and Amanda knew that something serious was afoot. Practical Susanne helped Amanda put the groceries away, then she whispered: “I think we need to talk to you about something.” Janet was gripping Carly’s hand and the three of them were clearly trying to come to terms with some major event.
Seating herself across the table from Carly, Amanda reached for her other hand.
“What’s happened, and how can I help?”
Carly pulled her hand away, but only to brush tears from her face. She tilted her chin defiantly, then her face crumpled.
“I’m pregnant...”
Janet turned to Amanda and said earnestly: “I suggested she should have an abortion. She’s getting really good marks, so why throw graduation and a career away? Heaven knows who the sperm donor is. Children need two parents. I’m not saying this to be horrible. It makes sense. Carly, your mum and dad need never know. You can start a family later, when you’re ready.”
A shadow flickered in Amanda’s blue eyes. Suppressing a quick comment, she waited for the girls to finish speaking, while momentarily lost in her memory of waking up after the gruelling delivery of her own baby, whom she never saw or held, and being told she’d never have another.
“That’s your punishment,” her mother had said reprovingly.
“Then I’ve been punished twice,” Amanda had sobbed.
Meanwhile, it was Susanne’s turn for an opinion: “I’m adopted and I know my parents were ecstatic to have the chance of becoming a family when they got me. Carly, you’d be doing another couple a big favour by allowing them to adopt your baby – and it would have two parents.”
“But what about what I want?” wailed Carly. “It’s mine! I’m only crying because I want it so much. I love it already. I want to keep it, but how will I look after it? Mum and Dad will have a fit when I tell them. They sacrificed a lot so I could come to Uni. Maybe I won’t tell them. I can’t face their disappointment. I’ll have to run away.”
“No you won’t,” Amanda said firmly.
Three strained faces turned towards her. “You have to give your parents a chance, so you must tell them, and then handle the consequences. It seems huge now and obviously it won’t be easy, but the most important thing is to decide what YOU want to happen. Yes, you might provide a solution to other people’s issues if you have an abortion or the baby is adopted, but you’ll have to live with your decision forever. If you feel in your heart that you want to keep your baby, and if you think it’d be any help if I spoke with your parents… well, we can see this through together. I will support you.”
While the three young women were absorbing Amanda’s words, she was thinking: I let my own baby down, but I’ll make sure this little one has a chance of growing up with its own mother.
pregnancy Contest Winner |
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