For the Girls' Sake Read Free Page A

and sturdy and blond. Like little Swedes."
    She always said that as if Swedish children were fairer than any other kind. She never addressed the fact that Schoening was a German name, not Scandinavian.
    Obviously, there would be no assurances of unfailing love no matter what. Shelly would lose her grandparents, too, if it came to that.
    "Well," Lynn said, "the reason I’m calling is that I’m considering having Shelly tested so we can lay this foolishness to rest. It makes me mad to have to subject her to needles and all that scariness, but I might do it. So what I wondered is, do you remember what Brian’s blood type is?"
    "Oh, yes," his mother said promptly. "He’s O positive, just like me. What a good idea, Lynn! Doubts should always be laid to rest, don’t you think?"
    Fury kindled in her breast. Now that she’d gotten what she wanted, she let anger have its rein, sharpening her voice. "What I think is that all this is incredibly insulting. I understand that Brian’s still angry about our divorce, but you know me better than to believe this...this hogwash. You claim to love Shelly. You always say I should bring her for visits more often, that she’s adorable, that I should send pictures so you can show all your friends, and now you talk about her as if she’s tainted and you’ve always known something was wrong with her. She’s...she’s a bright, beautiful child whose eyes don’t happen to be blue. Well, I’m not Swedish, and I don’t expect my daughter to look like she is!" Lynn ended with a snap. " That’s what I think."
    She didn’t wait for a response. She hung up the telephone in a righteous rage that deserted her too quickly. How could she get mad, when Shelly wasn’t Brian’s daughter? Maybe she was the one who was blind! Maybe she should have realized immediately that something was wrong, that the baby the nurses handed her was a changeling.
    But she hadn’t, oh, she hadn’t. Instead, the connection had been deep and instant, a mother’s love for this child and only this one.
    Well, the fierceness of her love hadn’t diminished. She would tell Brian that she wasn’t going to get Shelly tested, and if he cut his daughter off, so be it. She would let him live with a creeping feeling of shame. It would serve him right.
    She stood up, as wearily as if she’d just overcome a violent bout of flu, and turned off the kitchen light, using the glow from the bathroom to find her way to her bedroom.
    Life might get harder; Shelly would be hurt that her father didn’t want her. But no one must ever know.
    * * *
    T HE DREAM CAME EVERY NIGHT from then on. She was searching desperately for someone. For her little girl. First she was on the beach, and she’d been reading her mail, and the fog had rolled in, and she looked up suddenly and realized she couldn’t see her.
    "Shelly!" she began crying. "Shelly, where are you?" She leaped to her feet and spun in every direction, crying over and over, "Shelly!"
    She began stumbling toward the water. Boulders reared from nowhere, tripping her. The roar of the surf filled her ears, and she knew with sickening certainty that Shelly had been caught by a wave.
    But, no, she wasn’t on the beach at all. She was in a city, although the fog still played tricks with her eyes. The sound was from traffic. Oh, no! How could she have looked away, even for a moment? The sea was merciless, but cars were deadly.
    She searched the sidewalks frantically for a bright chestnut head. People passing ignored her. Then she saw her, out on the median, cars racing by without slowing at all for the toddler who teetered there. She wore rags; she looked like Cosette in Les Misérables, wretched and unwanted. Brimming with tears, her bright blue eyes met Lynn’s momentarily through a break in the traffic, but without recognition.
    My daughter doesn’t know me, Lynn realized with horror.
    "Stay where you are!" Lynn screamed. "Wait! I’m coming!"
    But her voice meant nothing to this