The Singing Trees by Boo Walker
Chapter 33
CELIA
Annalisa was a complete wreck by the time her daughter was born on February 3, 1972. Not believing that she had what it took to be a great mother, so much of her wanted to give her baby up for adoption, but she’d decided against it. The decision had nothing to do with Nonna’s insistence or Annalisa’s fear of God. Her decision to keep the baby came down to the fact that, when she really sat to consider the idea of letting another person raise her baby, she couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t stand the thought of going on and living a life, knowing that her child was out there.
Her contractions started around four in the morning, and she knew her baby was ready to enter the world. Because Annalisa’s due date approached, Nonna had been staying with Walt for a week, helping Annalisa every way she could. Waddling her way to the living room, she dialed Walt’s number. In moments, she was lying down in the back seat of his Plymouth as he raced the three of them to the Maine Medical Center. During her attempts to quell the pain by following the breathing technique she’d learned, she realized how terribly afraid she was to take on such tremendous responsibility.
“It’s a girl,” the doctor said as he handed Annalisa her child in the delivery room. She’d endured seven hours of labor and was covered in sweat, deathly tired, but she couldn’t help but laugh at the gender. During all those times she’d referred to “him,” God must have been snickering at her.
When Annalisa held her baby girl for the first time, she felt love and confusion at the same time. Even in that most precious moment, Annalisa questioned whether she could be a good enough mother to raise her daughter without a father. She named her daughter Celia after her mother, but that hefty name gave even more weight to the heft of raising a human being.
Annalisa stared into the bluish-green eyes of this dark-haired child and even then could see Thomas in her. She kissed Celia on the cheek and pulled her into her chest, thinking that nineteen was entirely too young an age to take on such enormous responsibility, especially alone.
When she looked into the eyes of her daughter again, she turned her lips up into a smile. Perhaps there was no better comfort that Annalisa could offer than a mouth showing happiness, even if the curvature of her lips was a serious deceit. But even then, barely human, Celia could surely read through it. Annalisa felt like an impostor, stretching her mouth into a lie. She wasn’t happy at all.
Holding this tiny beautiful being in her arms filled her heart with the magic of life, but she couldn’t pretend to tell her baby that life would be a waltz of love and joy. This poor baby would have to figure out her way through the world, attempting to slay the never-ending demons, and like Annalisa, Celia wouldn’t have a loving father by her side.
Nonna was in the room for the birth, and she’d gone out to retrieve Walt. The two came in and gushed over Celia. Nonna took the baby from Annalisa’s hands, desperate to introduce herself to her sixth great-grandchild. Annalisa could hear the Mancuso clan outside the door, all waiting to get a peek.
Welcomed by Walt and a host of Mancusos packed into her apartment bearing hand-me-downs and baby gear, Annalisa carried Celia into her apartment for the first time. Though she knew it should be a happy moment, she was terrified. Since deciding against giving Celia up for adoption, she had tried to make sense of staying, but it was feeling more impossible by the minute.
She hated herself for not being more thrilled and tried to remind herself of all the women who dreamed of this day. It wasn’t that she resented the baby; it was just scary. In fact, it had nothing to do with Celia at all. It was Annalisa thinking she couldn’t do it, that she would be inadequate. Despite all her worries, having her family gathered around her was reassuring and comforting.
Annalisa gave Nonna the baby and excused herself to her bedroom. She opened up a window to the city and then crashed onto her bed. With the sounds of her loved ones in the living room and the city she’d once dived into with youthful vigor taunting her from the open window, she buried her face into a pillow so that no one would hear her cry.
If she didn’t follow her family back to the Mills, she’d be alone. That was why she was crying most. Loved ones waited in the next room, and she had a baby . . . but she was alone.
As the hollowness of that realization hit her, she decided she couldn’t fight off moving home any longer. She’d tried to ignore it, but there was no rational way for her to stay.
It was time to go back home to the Mills.
Time to give up all her dreams and retreat back to reality. She might never get out of Payton Mills, but that didn’t matter anymore. Nonna was right. She couldn’t be selfish and chase silly dreams. It was time to focus on being a good parent.
When she returned from her bedroom, having washed away her red face, she told Nonna her decision. “I guess it comes down to the fact that I just don’t have any fight left.”
Never had she felt more defeated.
In the morning, Annalisa pushed into Walt’s shop with Celia in her arms. He stood with a customer in a fedora showing off a grandfather clock he’d brought in. “Look at you out and about,” Walt said. “How are you feeling?”
“To be expected, I guess. A little lighter on my feet.”
Walt must have seen the sadness in her eyes and asked the customer to excuse him. He led Annalisa to the back of the store, where he reached for Celia. “May I?”
“Of course.”
Walt cradled Celia in his arms. It was strange to see him take her child in such a loving way. “How’s this new world treating you?” he asked sweetly. “You have so much ahead of you.”
Annalisa thought that was an understatement. So much ahead and so much of it awful. “Walt, I have to go back home.”
He took Celia’s little hand, and she grabbed on to his thumb. Without looking at Annalisa, he said, “That may be best.”
“I apologize. I’ve let you down, and I hate that. You’ve given me every opportunity and allowed me a chance at my dream, but this little one has changed things. I just can’t do it on my own.”
With Celia still holding his finger, he looked at Annalisa. “You haven’t let me down in any way, young lady. Every decision you make needs to be about you and this wonderful girl. I’ve lived my life.”
A tear dripped down her cheek. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me, Walt. Seriously. No one has ever done so much. I can’t bear to think of what you’re taking on with your shop now.”
“Annalisa,” he said gently, his eyes on Celia, “I’ve managed to run a watch shop for forty years—and most of it without you. I can figure it out. Look what you’ve done here. You’ve breathed new life into this place . . . and brought me new customers.” He touched his chest and coughed some. “You’ve breathed new life into me despite these damn lungs.”
Annalisa felt so lonely for him. “Why don’t you come back with me? Find a little place in Payton Mills. I feel like we’re family. Nonna would just die if you picked up and moved.”
He handed Celia back. “This is my home, dear, but it’s not that far away. Surely you’ll both come see me.”
Feeling slightly optimistic, Annalisa said, “Yes, you know I will. Whenever I can get a ride. What can I do for you before we go? I can help find a new tenant.”
“Just take care of the two of you. Whatever that requires. Don’t look back. You’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know. You’ve become like a daughter to me.”
“And you, like a father to me,” she cried, thinking she couldn’t endure the pain of any more goodbyes.
He pulled out his handkerchief and coughed into it, reminding her that he wouldn’t be around forever. When he’d stopped, she said, “If you moved to the Mills, I could take care of you. I’d love nothing more.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” he said, leaving it at that.
“Nino is coming to get us tomorrow. I’ll get packed and then clean the apartment. It’ll be ready to show by the time I leave.”
He reached for Celia’s foot, her little white slipper. “Don’t feel defeated. Life throws curveballs.” He shook the foot. “This is one beautiful curveball.”
Another tear came. Celia was beautiful, but Annalisa felt so incredibly depleted inside. “I just hope I can be a good mother. Right now, it doesn’t feel possible.”
“I have no doubt that you’ll be a wonderful mother, but I suppose parenting is no different than anything else. It takes a little practice. Try it on for a while and see what happens.”
Annalisa brought Celia up to her chest. She hoped he was right. Because right now, she felt like the little human in her arms was not where she belonged.
Annalisa thought she’d hit her lowest low when she’d finally admitted to Walt that she was leaving Portland, but walking head down into Nonna’s house with Nino was the ultimate moment of defeat. She’d been the determined one who would find her own place in the world, no matter the cost. She’d left Payton Mills, knowing there was something bigger for her out there. After she’d graduated high school, they had watched her go and had wished her luck, and she’d felt so proud driving away in Thomas’s VW that day.
Only to come back home. Her clothes, sewing machine, a few of her paintings, and her wind chimes were packed in Nino’s car.
Her feelings of defeat made no sense, because the entire Mancuso clan waited for her, and they didn’t treat her like a failure. Some of them had been there for the birth, and now they were here for her return. She could barely get Celia through the door before they stole her away.
Feeling another cry coming on, she excused herself to her bedroom and fell onto the bed. She was right back where she’d started. For almost three years she’d planned her escape, and she’d failed.
Nonna knocked and came in, taking a seat beside her. “This is all normal,” she said.
“I don’t know about that. This doesn’t feel right. None of it. I feel like I’m living someone else’s life. I’m a terrible mother. Sometimes I look at her and feel so angry. She’s the most beautiful girl in the world, and all I can see is Thomas and what he did to me and the life she’s taken from me.” Annalisa couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but they were true.
Nonna sighed and paused. “You have a lot of life to live. You can’t figure it all out within two years of graduating from high school. This is nothing more than a setback.”
“A setback? This is more than a setback. I don’t feel like I’m starting over again. I feel like I’m crawling into my own grave and giving up.”
“That’s up to you, no?” Nonna asked. “I know you have what it takes to be a good mother, but you’ve been a free spirit. It may take some time to connect with that person.”
Annalisa sat up on the bed, her feet on the rug. “I keep wondering if I need to put her up for adoption, and now it’s too late. What would everyone think of me? Now that they’ve met her. Now that she has a name? It’s too late, and I failed her.”
Nonna let out a subtle smile. “You young ones think it’s all supposed to be sorted out, that there are answers out there. I’m not sure there are. Quit trying to decide what the rest of your life will look like. Embrace these moments. You have plenty of time to learn how to be a good mother.”
Annalisa shook her head. “I wouldn’t even know how to start.”
“You can start by getting out of bed,” Nonna said, repeating her advice from one of the days after Emma’s overdose. “When it comes to being a mother, that’s your first victory.”
“I just want out, Nonna.”
Nonna patted Annalisa’s hand. “That’s the one thing you can’t have.”
There was no doubt that Annalisa had every opportunity to learn how to be a good mother. She watched Nonna taking care of Celia in awe. Nonna could somehow make three incredible meals a day, keep the house clean, and keep Celia laughing all the way to bedtime. Annalisa thought it funny that she’d been painting those women walking in and out of Pride’s, thinking they embodied strength. Now, Annalisa knew no one embodied strength more than Nonna.
It seemed impossible for Annalisa. For the next few weeks, Annalisa could barely get out of bed, which meant she couldn’t even enjoy that tiny victory.
Sometimes she’d listen to Celia crying in the crib next to the bed and do nothing about it. She couldn’t bring herself to get up and try to comfort the girl. What was she to say? Pretend that the world was okay? Annalisa thought that the less she poisoned Celia with her bad energy, the better. Then Nonna would come bursting into the room, any time of the night, and sweep up Celia into her arms and rock her back to sleep.
Annalisa was not capable of this kind of mothering. She was still caught up in thoughts of Thomas stomping on her dream, thinking that only thirty minutes away, he might be back in school at Weston. Or maybe he was in Portland. Either way, he was surely with Linh.
Linh. The name stung every time.
They’d been destined to fail since the beginning. It was awful to think that the warning Thomas’s father had issued at the country club that night they all dined together was spot-on. Annalisa and Thomas were too dumb to see that their limited understanding of the world wasn’t enough to guide them through the hard times. Their relationship was destined to get in the way.
Reminding herself that she had to suck it up and be the mother she needed to be, Annalisa kept stretching her lips, attempting to find the smile she once had. No matter how hard she tried, though, she couldn’t feel the smile, couldn’t feel the joy she needed to show her baby that life was full of opportunity and joy.
Each day took her further away from herself, and her bed became both her sanctuary and her prison. Celia’s cry became a reminder of everything she could have been and everything she wasn’t. If she wasn’t careful, she would never paint again. She felt further from it each day, especially as Sharon Maxwell’s annual show in April came and went.