Emily felt breathless from the very idea. “Mom, I can’t leave school. If I make it into next year, I’ll have enough credits to graduate.”
“You’ll have a baby by graduation, Emily. Surely you don’t expect to walk across the stage with the rest of the class.”
Emily felt the lightness of the last few moments being snuffed out. The two of them were not contemporaries, nor were they friends. Esther was her mother, and her mother was passing down an edict.
“That’s not fair,” Emily said. If Esther was going to sound like an adult, she was going to sound like a child. “You’re making it out like I have no choice.”
“You do have a choice,” Esther said. “You can choose to focus on what is important.”
“My education isn’t important?”
“Of course it is. Or, rather, it will be.”
“Mom, I—” Emily hadn’t said the words out loud before, but she had been thinking them for the last month. “I can still go to college. We could hire a nanny and—”
“With what money?” Esther’s hands were raised in the air, unwittingly gesturing toward the mansion that had been in Franklin’s family for over half a century. “Who is going to pay for this nanny, Emily? Will you have a job in addition to attending classes? Will she be there when you have to prepare for your courses and write your papers?”
“I—” Emily saw now that she should have planned out this conversation ahead of time. She needed actual numbers to show her parents, an explanation of how a small investment now could pay dividends in the future. “I can’t not go to college.”
“Yes, you will go to college,” Esther said. “Eventually. When the baby is old enough to go to school. After he’s been successfully enrolled for a few years, you can—”
“That’s eight years!” Emily was flabbergasted. “You want me to go to college when I’m nearly thirty?”
“It’s not entirely unheard of,” Esther said, but she glaringly left out any examples. “You can’t take care of an infant while you’re in college, dear. That’s not possible.”
Emily could not believe the hypocrisy. “That’s exactly what you did!”
“Lower your voice,” Esther cautioned. “It was different for me. Your grandmother was home with you while I was at Harvard. And I had a husband. Your father gave me legitimacy. He allowed me to seek a career outside of the home.”
“Allowed?” Emily couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re always telling me that women can do anything.”
“They can,” Esther said. “But within reason.”
Her hands flew into the air in exasperation. “Mom!”
“Emily,” Esther said, her voice tightly controlled. “I know that we said we were not going to discuss the circumstances surrounding the genesis of your condition.”
“Christ, you sound like a lawyer.”
They both looked stunned. Emily’s hand slapped to her mouth. She thought things like that all of the time, but she never, ever said them out loud.
Instead of admonishing her, Esther sat down at the table. She dried her hands on her apron. “You have to earn your way back, Emily. You broke a rule—a cardinal rule—that women are not allowed to break. Those doors that were once open to you are now closed. These are the consequences you must suffer for your actions.”
“What actions? I didn’t—”
“You’re not returning to school,” Esther said. “Principal Lampert called your father last week. The decision has been made. There is nothing you can do about it. You have been dis-enrolled.”
Emily felt tears moisten her eyes. From birth, Esther had pounded into her the value of an education. Emily had spent hours studying and memorizing and drilling for every test, every paper, so that her mother would be proud.
And now, Esther was telling her that it was all for nothing.
“Emily, this isn’t the end of world,” Esther said, though clearly it was the end of something. “Your father and I have discussed this, and we are in agreement.”
“Oh, if Father says it, okay.”
Esther ignored her sarcasm. “What you will do is bide your time. You will stay in the house, keep yourself out of the public eye, and then, when enough time has passed, we will come up with a way to reintroduce you into the world.”
“You want me to stay locked in the house for eight years?”
“Stop being dramatic,” Esther said. “You’ll have a confinement until the baby arrives. You may walk in the back garden or, when school is in session, up and down the street. You should maintain a healthy exercise regime.”
Emily heard the practiced tone in her voice. She could see her parents hashing this out late at night, Franklin pacing the room with a glass of Scotch in his hand, Esther making a list of what Emily could and could not do, neither of them bothering to question what their pregnant daughter wanted.
The same way they had decided on her behalf that she would carry this baby.
The same way that they were making her leave school, give up graduating, defer college, postpone her life.
“And then?” Emily asked, because she wanted to know what else they had decided.
Esther seemed relieved by the question, which she clearly inferred as consent. “When the time feels right, your father and I will start taking you to functions. Something easy at first, only with our people. We’ll choose those who are most amenable to your reintroduction. Perhaps once the child is old enough, you could get an internship. Or a secretarial position.”
“You’re such a hypocrite.”
Esther looked more amused than insulted. “I beg your pardon?”
Emily was tired of keeping all of the thoughts in her head from coming out of her mouth. It was exhausting to be considerate, especially when no one—ever—thought to be considerate to her in return.
She told her mother, “You preach from on high about how important it is for women to be strong. You project this sense of invincibility. You let everyone think that you’re fearless, but everything you do, every choice you make, is because you’re afraid.”
“I’m afraid?” Esther huffed a laugh. “Young lady, I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life.”
“How many times has Dad hit you?”
Esther locked her in with a steely gaze. “Be careful.”
“Or what?” Emily asked. “Dad will give me another bruise? He’ll twist Gram’s wrist until she shouts? He’ll drag you up the stairs by your arm and beat you with your hairbrush?”
Esther did not look away, but nor did she see Emily.
“You are so terrified of what people will think of you,” Emily said. “That’s why you stay with Dad. That’s why you want to lock me inside the house. You have wasted your entire life trying to act the way they want you to.”
“My entire life,” Esther mocked. “Pray tell, who is they?”
“They is everybody,” Emily said. “You wouldn’t let me get an abortion because they might find out. You wouldn’t let me pursue adoption because they would use it against you. I’m being forced out of school because they told you it was time. You act as if you are in complete control of your life, your legacy, but you are terrified that they can take everything away from you at any time.”