When Lilly finally comes to terms with her unexpected pregnancy, she is sent away to a special home for “girls like her.”
Lilly looked up at the unsightly building before her—an old, massive, dilapidated building, all century-old dark gray stones—and momentarily considered running. The thought had no sooner entered her mind, however, than the large wooden doors opened with a loud creak, an echo of the pain she felt inside. An old woman—a nun—came out to greet her.
“You must be Lilly,” she said in a harsh, dry voice. Lilly thought she looked about as old as the building itself; her face had the deepest wrinkles she had ever seen. Without a word, Sister Louise nodded toward the door, indicating that Lilly should follow her inside.
The first thing Lilly noticed when she crossed the threshold of Saint Margaret was the smell: a strong sterile odor trying—and failing—to cover up an even stronger musty smell. Lilly was instantly hit with a wave of nausea much like those she felt at the start of this whole ordeal. A very pregnant woman—or rather girl—was scrubbing the floor at the bottom of the stairs, on her hands and knees. Another, no older than 14, was working around the massive Virgin Mary statue, whose nose had seemingly fallen off over the years.
“Follow me,” said Sister Louise sternly, after shooting a disapproving glance at the two soiled girls.
Lilly followed the nun up the long winding staircase, nodding apologetically as the floor cleaner scrubbed behind her.
They entered a tiny, faded yellow room with mold stains on the ceiling. A single bed—a white steel frame and two-inch-thick mattress—looked pathetic and uninviting in the corner of the room. Hanging above it was a wooden cross. Next to the bed was a small nightstand with two drawers. The nun opened the bottom one and handed her a fraying, long gray gown like the ones the other girls were wearing—her uniform.
“Change into this; it’s almost time to meet with Father Benedict,” she said, stepping out of the room. That was when Lilly noticed that there were no doors to any of the rooms. No privacy.
After putting the ugly gown on, Sister Louise told Lilly to tie her hair into a low bun and handed her some bulky moccasins—a far cry from her favorite Mary Janes. This would be her attire for the duration of her stay.
#
The priest’s office was in much better condition than the rest of the building. There was a fresh coat of olive-green paint on the walls, shiny oak bookcases on either side of his desk, and a large cross above the door—this room had a door, which Sister Louise closed on her way out.
“Welcome, Lilly,” said Father Benedict. He watched as she sat, his eyes stopping momentarily on her belly. Lilly instinctively wrapped her arms around her bump.
“So, you’ve gone and got yourself into some trouble, have you?” he said, full of disdain. “Fortunately, God is forgiving. That is why you’re here. If you were to keep the baby, you would never have a chance at a good family life. And your child would be soiled too. A bastard, that’s what people would call your baby. Imagine. But now we, with the guidance of God, can find an appropriate family for the child.”
He paused for a beat, then continued.
“I see that you’ve already got your uniform. For your protection and that of the baby, you should remain anonymous. To ensure no one catches wind of your… predicament, you will now be known as Beatrice. No one is to know your real name. You are allowed to call your mother and only your mother. Everyone here has a job; you have been assigned to laundry duty. Should you wish to take a walk, you will be given an appropriate outfit and a wedding band to wear. Daily mass is mandatory. Oh! And we left a Bible by your bedside for reading.”
With nothing left to say, Lilly was escorted back to her tiny room.
“How could I have let this happen to me,” she thought as she fell into a restless sleep.
#
It had all started on October 30, 1965, at Jeannie’s Halloween party. Mrs. Cartwright, Lilly’s mother, would not have approved of this unchaperoned get-together—Jeannie’s mother was working the nightshift at the local diner, and her father was stationed in Vietnam. But ever since Mr. Cartwright had lost his battle with cancer, she had been working two jobs and going to church, leaving her daughter to herself. Lilly was wearing a much-too-short black dress that her mother would also disapprove of, with cat ears on her head for good measure.
Classmates, neighbors, and people she didn’t know were at the party. The music was blasting, and everyone was dancing, smoking, and sipping on spiked punch. Lilly’s stomach flip-flopped when Jeannie’s older brother, Bobby, walked in. Her cheeks immediately turned all shades of red when he waved and gave her a wink—a first, since he spent most of his time with his teammates or smooching a pretty blonde named Donna. Lilly would often wonder what it might feel like to kiss him.
Bobby eventually pulled Lilly up for a dance.
“Hey, Lilly Kitty!” he laughed. “You look real cute tonight!”
“Thank you,” Lilly mumbled shyly.
“It’s really loud down here,” he said when the song ended. He took her hand and led her up to his room.
“That’s better.” After putting Elvis’ I can’t help falling in love on the record player, he sat on the bed, tapping the spot next to him. “Come join me. I won’t bite,” he laughed again.
A nervous Lilly took a seat next to Bobby, leaving a little space between them, careful not to appear too eager.
“I always thought you were cute, Lilly. But tonight, my goodness… Meow!... Do you like me, Lilly?”
Lilly nodded self-consciously, too nervous to say anything. Bobby moved in closer.
“Would it be okay if I kissed you, Lilly?” he asked, his face just inches from hers.
Nodding again, Lilly closed her eyes as Bobby’s lips met hers. Her stomach filled with butterflies at first, but then panic set in as she felt him unzip her dress. She tried to protest, but Bobby was too caught up in the moment to pay any attention. As he climbed up on top of her, she closed her eyes and tried to convince herself that this was fine. Bobby should be her first; she had known and liked him for so long. Once it was over, he pulled his pants back up, thanking her for such a fun time.
“I’ll let you get dressed. Just close the door on your way out,” he said matter-of-factly. Lilly’s heart sank.
“It’s fine,” she told herself. “It’s fine.”
She left right after, tearfully replaying the evening over and over in her head.
“It’s going to be fine,” she told herself again once in the safety of her home.
#
Lilly had not seen or heard from Bobby after that. She had done everything to push him out of her mind, and tried to feign excitement when Jeannie told her, just two weeks later, that her brother was getting married… and expecting a child.
#
One early December morning, Lilly woke up feeling queasy. She told herself she probably had a stomach bug, but the nausea persisted for weeks after that. When her period didn’t show, she chalked it up to hormones. She did not want to consider the alternative. Besides, she had only been with Bobby that one time; surely it couldn’t be! They weren’t even together.
“Just hormones,” she told herself.
It was only once her breasts grew fuller and her stomach rounder that she came to realize—or rather accept—that she was pregnant. She was scared, terrified. She knew what happened to girls like her: they got sent away, and their baby was put up for adoption.
“I’ll try to cover it up until I figure this out.”
#
Up until just recently, Georges had never really paid attention to the teenage girl who lived across from the construction site he was working at. But one mid-February morning, he caught her quickly covering up her mid-section as she walked out the door, a scared look on her face. That’s when he noticed that she was waddling rather than walking. He knew right away. Just then, he saw her tumble, and ran over to help.
“Are you ok?” he asked.
“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word,” he added, nodding to her small yet visible bump. “I’m Georges,” he said, helping her up.
“Lilly,” she answered. “I know what you must think. That I’m just a promiscuous girl, right? Well, I’m not!” she said defensively.
“I don’t think that at all,” said Georges, and he meant it. His older sister had gotten pregnant when she was just 17, and her boyfriend had moved away. Seeing his sister be sent away and never meeting his niece had forever scarred him. He knew better than to judge.
Georges walked with Lilly for a while; he told her to just wave him over if ever she needed anything.
That night, he told his wife about Lilly, and her heart broke for the young girl as well. She started making baked goods for Georges to bring to her on his way to work.
#
It took a while for Mrs. Cartwright to notice—or acknowledge—Lilly’s pregnancy. She heard the rumor leaving the convenience store and hurried back home, slamming the front door on her way in.
“How could you?!” she yelled, storming into Lilly’s room. Lilly tried to cover up, but wasn’t quick enough, which was all the confirmation her mother needed. “Do you realize the shame you’ve brought into this family? Were you ever going to tell me? Your father must be rolling in his grave right now. How could you do this to us?”
“It’s not like that,” Lilly cried, thinking back to the awful night in question.
“No? You’re marrying the father, then?”
“No, he’s… already engaged…” Lilly responded with shame.
Mrs. Cartwright was speechless for a moment.
“I can’t believe this,” she said. “I’m going to call Father John right away to make arrangements. You are not to leave this room.”
Hearing her mother on the phone, Lilly rubbed her belly protectively, lovingly.
“Hi Father. Thank you for taking my call so quickly,” Lilly heard her mother say. “Yes, quite urgent. My daughter… Lilly… She’s gotten herself… into trouble,” she sighed, then paused.
“I’d say around 4 or 5 months. I only just found out… No, the father will not be marrying my daughter,” she added, a hint of embarrassment in her voice.
Another, longer pause.
“Wednesday? Yes, yes, that’s fine. Thank you, Father.”
Lilly’s mother returned, a small luggage in hand, and informed Lilly that she would be going to the Saint Margaret maternity and birthing home for unwed mothers.
“But what about my baby?” asked Lilly tearfully.
“The child will be put up for adoption immediately after birth.”
#
The days at Saint Margaret were all one and the same. After showering, dressing, and eating the blandest food known to man, Lilly would spend most of her time in the old building’s rundown basement. She would handwash habits, gowns, and sheets—some soiled with the remnants of shame from the girls who stayed there.
She attended mass and prayer sessions daily, and went to confession regularly. Caseworkers were always nearby to remind her of the pending adoption, until there was no fight left in her.
On July 12, 1966, her baby—a boy—was born. She heard his cry and caught a glimpse of his tiny pink face before passing out. When she awoke, her baby was already gone. After a few days, the physical pain began to subside, leaving her only with emotional wounds, emptiness, and longing for the child she would never know.
Father Benedict visited Lilly one last time after that.
“You can put this whole ordeal behind you now; go back to your life and forget this ever happened,” he said. These words were apparently meant as comfort. “Just try to keep yourself out of trouble this time. May God watch over you always.”
Her head hung low and feeling dejected, Lilly left Saint Margaret heartbroken, knowing she would never forget her baby boy; this would forever haunt her.
#
A few weeks after her return, Lilly heard a slight knock at the door. She opened to find a small envelope, her name written beautifully across the front.
Dear Lilly,
I had been looking out for your return. As you know, Mary and I were deeply touched by your situation. We desperately wanted to help. No mother, no matter their age or circumstances, should be forced to give up their child.
After you left, we visited Saint Margaret to arrange an adoption. It was not easy to pull off, but Lilly, we adopted your son. He is healthy and doing well, and we’d love for you to be a part of his life, if that’s still what you want. You are welcome to visit anytime; you are family now. Our address and phone number are on the back of this page.
Georges and Mary
#
Two days later, Lilly was at Georges and Mary’s kitchen table, cradling baby Jude in her arms. He was perfect. Lilly was so thankful for this gift, one that most girls like her would never experience. At last, she was at peace.
###
© Sandra Zappitelli, 2024
*This story was written as part of NYC Midnight's short story competition. The prompts were Historical Fiction, Denial, and Construction worker.