Finding Ashley by Danielle Steel (free ebook reader for iphone txt) 📗

keep it.” In a way it was a relief to both sisters to talk about it. Melissa hadn’t intended to, but seeing Hattie brought it all back again, just as she had feared.

“So they sent me to that dungeon in Ireland, and forced me to give the baby up. Mom said I couldn’t come home again unless I did. What else could I do at sixteen?”

“It would have ruined your life if you’d kept the baby. And you couldn’t have stayed in a Catholic school in New York with a child born out of wedlock.” They had gone to private Catholic schools all their lives.

“Instead it ruined my life giving her up. I’ve never been the same. And two years later, I was taking care of you. And I didn’t mind it. You were my baby from the moment you were born. I was six then.” Melissa smiled at Hattie. But there was always an underlying anger and bitterness just under the surface, which colored everything, when she thought about the baby her mother forced her to give up, especially now, when she had nothing else. It was why her books had been so dark, as she tried to exorcise the demons that tormented her, and never could. Her mother banishing her and making her give up the baby had traumatized her for life.

“Did Carson know?” Hattie asked her, curious. She had always wondered and never dared ask. Their mother hadn’t told Hattie at the time that Melissa left home for seven months because she was pregnant, but Melissa had told her herself when Hattie was sixteen. Melissa had warned her sternly not to let the same thing happen to her. Hattie still remembered how shocked she had been when Melissa told her the whole story when she was old enough to understand.

“Of course he knew,” Melissa answered her. “I told Carson after he proposed. I would never have married him with a secret like that. And I guess I only had two good eggs in me. We tried but I never got pregnant again after Robbie. Carson was very nice about it when I told him. She would have been sixteen when Carson and I got married, and he asked me if I wanted to try to contact her. He said she’d be welcome to visit. I tried, I called Saint Blaise’s, and spoke to the mother superior, and she said there was no way to find her. All the records had been destroyed in a fire a few years after I’d been there. She said she had no idea where the baby went, or the name of the people who adopted her. I’ve heard that from other women since, and I even read a book about it. It was an exposé of those convents and mother and baby homes in Ireland and England, written by a reporter who was a fallen Catholic. There were many convents like it in Ireland then. They were baby mills. It had been going on since the late forties. Mine was probably among the last of them. Nice Catholic girls from respectable families who got in trouble, and the Church offered a perfect solution. We went to Ireland for the pregnancy, disappeared from our schools at home, and left the babies with them, which made everything nice and simple for our parents, and the nuns had the babies adopted by wealthy American couples, and even a number of movie stars. The adoptive parents gave very large donations to the Church, and everyone was happy, except the girls who gave up their babies when they were too young to know better or have a voice in it. The adoptive parents got what people call today ‘designer babies,’ no drugs or girls from bad homes, all white middle and upper class Catholic girls. The pregnant girls’ parents who could afford to paid a hefty sum to the convent for keeping us, and then the adoptive parents paid a fortune for healthy white babies from decent families.

“The youngest girl when I was there was thirteen. She told me she’d been raped by her uncle, her mother’s brother. Her parents said she was in boarding school for a year, which was what Mom told her friends too. She told them my grades were slipping because I was boy crazy, so they sent me to a good school in Ireland for a year, and I was an angel when I came home. There was only ever one boy. I loved him. And I only had sex with him once. We were too scared to do it again, and I got pregnant the first time. His parents sent him to military school in Mississippi, and Annapolis for college. I never heard from him again. I never had sex again until I was a junior in college at Columbia five years later. I was too traumatized to even date. The baby’s father and I were just children. He was even more afraid of his parents than I was of ours. They sent him away two days after he told them. He snuck out to tell me. The school he was going to sounded like a military prison. His father was a retired naval officer. They treated us like criminals. We thought we were in love, but who knows what that means at sixteen? Mom and Dad shipped me off pretty fast too.”

“I remember,” Hattie said with tears in her eyes for her sister.

“Saint Blaise’s was a nightmare, worse than I feared. And the nuns had the adoption all set up before I gave birth. They wouldn’t tell me anything about the family, just that they were ‘lovely people,’ and they were going to name her Ashley. They were at the convent, waiting, when I had her. The moment the midwife delivered her, they rushed her out of the room to them. They said it would be a sin to let me hold her and rejoice in what I’d done. I