Page 123 of Girl, Forgotten (Andrea Oliver 2)

Emily felt like she was preening. “You’re very happy today.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I get to spend the entire day with my family.” She held onto Emily’s arm for a few seconds, then returned to the dinner preparation. “Sit down. I think I can manage the rest.”

Emily was grateful for the reprieve. She propped her feet on Gram’s empty chair. Her back was no longer in spasm, but now she felt her toes were swelling into hurtful sausages.

She told her mother, “I should work on my English assignment. The paper is half my grade.”

“Don’t worry about that today.” Esther had her back to Emily, but her spine had stiffened. She turned around, crossed her arms over her chest. “Actually, perhaps you shouldn’t worry about any of it. You should leave school now on your own terms rather than waiting until it becomes impossible.”

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.