Replacement Baby (2 page)

Lisa’s mind was bursting with thoughts and questions about what she had discovered under the closet floor. The newspaper clippings. The picture of the baby that had her exact name and the same birthday, yet did not resemble her at all. Her own hair was not dark, and her eyes weren’t, either. From down the hallway, Lisa could overhear her mother muttering about what a terrible daughter she was.

Lisa listened as her Mother clomp down the stairs. A door slammed downstairs, and then Lisa heard some cursing. After that and for several minutes, there was nothing but silence. In the silence, Lisa became lost in her thoughts. A strange sense of realization began to well up inside her chest. She attempted to push away the feeling that she was somehow connected to the box full of photographs and newspaper clippings. Doubts filled her mind. But still, the idea that the box was not there by coincidence would not go away.

“Lisa? Lisa! Get down here now!” Her mother’s voice sounded sharp and cold, as it always was, as it called from downstairs.

“I’m not Lisa Elise,” she whispered, the idea finally sinking in. She looked nothing like the baby with her name. But who could she be? And what happened to the dark haired baby in the photograph? And then what of all the newspaper clippings of the pale haired baby?

“
Lisa!
” Her mother yelled as she pounded on the bathroom door. Lisa sprang to her feet to prepare to face this cold woman who collected newspaper clippings of the pale haired baby, missing from a London park.

“I’m coming, Mother,” Lisa said bitterly, her voice quivering. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and gripped the doorknob. She walked past her mother and down the hallway to her bedroom to fix her makeup, not looking back as her footsteps echoed on the bare walls.

Chapter Two

There was an
icy silence as Lisa and her mother drove across town in the cab. Though they sat beside one another, there was no acknowledgement between them. The cab stopped in front of the canopy at the Fifth Street Gala Nightclub, where Lisa’s eighteenth birthday party was being held. A doorman opened the cab door and Lisa stepped out, bathed in light from the bright windows. Ignoring her mother, she walked up the steps and into the building. A man in a tuxedo took her shawl and led her down a long hallway to a large, open room. A sizable live band played and several couples danced. It was an old fashioned place, the kind that Mother had gone to when she was a teenage girl. Mother had told Lisa this several times since planning the event.

The place had a certain old fashioned charm to it. It was not the type of location Lisa would have chosen, but the place was a bit of a novelty, with the live band and waiters in starched tuxedos.

The man in the tuxedo guided her to a long table, covered in a white tablecloth with a cardstock sign marked “Reserved.” Three girls in brightly colored dresses, their hair curled and hair-sprayed, sat at the table. Kim had been invited, as well as Christina and Crystal. They all sat in a row at the table. The three girls were Lisa’s friends from school. Not close friends, because Lisa didn’t fully trust them. It was rare that Lisa opened up to anyone. But she talked to them more than other girls at school, and they always sat together at lunch every day during their senior year. She had once been close friends with two boys at school, Tim and Ed, but her mother had seen the three of them walking together one day after school. After much arguing back and forth, Lisa was ordered not to speak to them again. Mother did not want Lisa hanging out around guys.

“Oh, you look gorgeous!” Crystal exclaimed in her high voice, faking enthusiasm.

Yes, I do look good, but you don’t think so,
Lisa thought. She rolled her eyes. Crystal never complimented anyone and really meant it. At least, she did not compliment anyone but herself. Besides, Crystal talked about almost everyone behind her back.

“Oh, this place is so cool!” Christina stated, waving her hand toward the band and the dancers. “I feel like I’m back in time.”

“Yeah, like a time warp,” Crystal agreed. “Sometimes I stay up late and eat chocolate bars and popcorn when I can’t sleep. The only thing on TV at that time is old
I Love Lucy
reruns. They went to these types of places back in those times.”

“It’s really a neat experience,” Kim piped up, trying to put a more positive spin on the party location.

Lisa felt herself blushing. The novelty of the old fashioned place was quickly wearing off.

“Oh, yes, I selected it just for Lisa,” Mother said, a forced smile plastered on her face. Her lips were red and her dark hair was pinned back tightly. Her hair had lines of grey running through it, like the marbling on a piece of meat.

The girls began chattering back and forth about each other’s clothes and hair and makeup. No one seemed to notice that Lisa was hardly speaking a word. Steaming plates with London broil, boiled vegetables, and mashed potatoes came out. Lisa ate in silence, and still scarcely a word was spoken to her. All of her friends were just talking amongst themselves.
Great, no one speaks to me at my own birthday party,
she thought, hurt.

She took this time to think about the newspaper clippings. Who was that missing baby? Why were all the clippings in the box and hidden under the floor? What happened to the missing infant? Was she ever found, dead or alive?

“Oh, Lisa,
look
!” Kim cried, pointing. Lisa’s gaze followed the direction of Kim’s finger. A tall, three layered cake covered in white frosting with pink roses sat on a platter in the arms of a waiter. On it were eighteen blazing candles. The man brought the cake to her, and suddenly the band began to play and everyone in the room sang.

Lisa blushed at all the attention. She took a deep breath and leaned over the cake. She blew as hard as she could, and to her surprise, every single candle was extinguished.

“Happy birthday, Lisa!” Her friends exclaimed, clapping and screeching.

“What did you wish for?” Christina inquired.

“Can’t tell,” said Lisa. “If I tell, it won’t come true.”

The three girls nodded in understanding and groaned a long and disappointed “Oh.” Their waiter sliced pieces of thickly frosted cake and placed them on delicate china with gold edges.

“You can tell me your wish,” Mother said, leaning over to whisper.

Lisa smiled.
You won’t hear a word from me.
Just then, a tall, cute guy wearing a sharp black and white tuxedo approached her.

“Care to dance, birthday girl?” he asked, his hand outstretched.

Lisa glanced at her mother, whose mouth was gaping. “Of course!” she replied with enthusiasm, getting up from her chair.

Suddenly a hand gripped her wrist, hard. “Don’t you dare,” her mother whispered in her ear, pulling her back down to her seat. “You are too young,” she said sharply after the man had turned away. Seeing an opportunity, Crystal leaped from her chair and whisked the young man away.

“Some girls aren’t allowed to dance with guys yet.” Lisa could overhear Crystal’s shrill voice above the music, mocking as it always was. She then followed her comment with a burst of laughter. Lisa knew her cheeks were turning red and she stared down at her hands.

“I’ll just stay and chat with you,” Kim reassured Lisa.

Lisa smiled, feeling comforted by Kim’s efforts. Kim usually kept her gossip to a minimum and she was the least self-absorbed of her three friends. Lisa didn’t feel like she could trust Kim completely, but she could more than Christina and Crystal.

Kim, Christina, and Lisa ate their cake, while Mother declined her slice. She held up her hand when the waiter placed the plate in front of her, indicating to him that she didn’t eat desserts.

When Mother got up to use the restroom, Kim slipped the card from Mrs. Harrison to Lisa, who quickly read it, took out the cash, and stuffed it all into her purse before Mother returned.

Kim did stay and talk for a while, but soon Lisa’s two other friends had been snatched up by young, good looking dance partners as well. Lisa sat in silence beside her mother, staring at her friends as they twirled across the floor in the arms of their attractive partners. She frowned, feeling like a child.

Lisa stood up. “I need to use the restroom,” she said to her mother. She navigated down the halls until she found a small powder room. She stared at herself in the mirror. Light brown, curly hair. Light green eyes. Freckles. No, this was not the baby in the photograph with the name
Lisa Elise Porter
scribbled on the back. She looked nothing like that baby.
Who am I really?
She wondered.

“I need to find out,” she whispered. “Somehow, I need to figure out who I really am.”
This
was her birthday wish.

Chapter Three

Back at their
brownstone building, Lisa and her mother climbed the stairs.

“Aren’t you going to thank me for the party?” Mother asked, perturbed.

“Thank you for the party,” Lisa mumbled obligingly.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” her mother said, suddenly sounding cheerful, as if there had been no tension the whole night.

Lisa walked into her room and took of her shoes and nylons stockings.

“
Lisa
!” Her mother called sharply from down the hall. Habit kicking in, Lisa rushed toward her mother’s voice. She found the tall woman standing at the door to her closet, staring at the floor.

Lisa’s heart sunk and she was sure she felt her skin turn pale.

“Were you looking for something in my closet?” Mother spoke the words icily.

“Uh… uh… yes, Mother,” Lisa said, trying to keep her voice from quivering. “I was just wanting to borrow your shoes. I’m sorry. I kicked a few other shoes around and I guess I left a mess. I’ll clean it up.”

“Shoes?” Mother asked with suspicion.

Is she getting suspicious? She knows about the box. She has to know. She was the one who placed it there. She had to be the one who put it there. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

“Yeah, but I decided not to. Hey, Mother?” Lisa said, trying desperately to change the subject. “Can you please help me out of this dress? I’m having some trouble with the zipper.”

Mother nodded and the two went to Lisa’s room, muttering about how Lisa was a slob and how she messed up her neatly organized shoes. As her mother unzipped her and unfastened the hooks, Lisa glanced out the window. The window in her bedroom faced the street. Suddenly, she had an idea.

“Mother, I looked out the window a few minutes ago and I noticed a weird looking guy with a brown baseball cap and a dark jacket standing under the tree outside. I thought it was kind of strange because it’s pretty hot outside to be wearing a jacket. And it’s also weird that he’s looking in the windows.” She glanced back at her mother to see her reaction.

Her mother’s face tensed up. She snatched up a flashlight, which sat on Lisa’s desk. Then she darted to the bedroom door without a single word.

She stopped in the hallway and peeked her head back into Lisa’s room. “Stay upstairs,” she said. “I’ll go look.”

When she heard her mother clomp down the stairs, Lisa grabbed a notebook and pen and dashed down the hall. She shut her mother’s door and locked it. If her mother came back before she finished, she could say that she was scared so she locked herself in the room. Lisa’s room and the bathroom had no locks. Mother’s room was the only one upstairs that had a lock on the door.

The lifted the floorboard and snatched out the box. She opened it and removed everything, and then began placing the items in the same order she remembered them being when she first found the box. She neatly placed the baby photograph near the bottom, and then stacked the newspaper clippings one by one until they were in a tidy pile. As she stacked, she jotted down some notes.
Green Park. London. Loretta Grigsby Jennings. Rose Garnet Jennings. October, 1977.
Finally, she held the soft baby bonnet and dress in her hands.
What if these are mine?
She wondered.
Could I really be Rose Garnet Jennings?
Just then, the heavy front door slammed downstairs. Lisa placed the baby clothes in the box and closed the lid. She laid the box under the floorboard and closed it. She snatched up her notebook and pen and jumped to her feet, hurrying out of her mother’s room as she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Glancing quickly at the stairs as she scampered to her bedroom, Lisa saw Mother. But to her relief Mother did not see her. Mother was looking down at the stairs as she walked and did not lift her eyes until after Lisa got to her room. Lisa closed the door and thrust the notebook under her mattress, peering her head out into the hall.

“Is everything okay, Mother?” She asked. “Did you find him?”

“No,” her mother said with annoyance. “And I looked everywhere. I even walked down the street both ways. You be sure to tell me if you see him again, though.”

“Yes, Mother, I will,” Lisa promised.

“Now go to bed. Good-night.” Her mother walked down the hall toward into her own bedroom, muttering about dirty, good for nothing prowlers. Lisa listened as Mother’s door closed and she turned the lock.

* * *

Lisa woke up hours later with a headache. She had slept fitfully all through the night. In her dreams, a tall, dark haired figure snatched a baby, dressed in yellow, from her mother’s loving arms. Then Lisa had dreamed of her own childhood as a little girl growing up in a cold, lonely house with sharp words and a distant mother.

Lisa stretched out in her bed. Her mind became flooded with ideas.
Am I baby Rose? Am I the kidnapped baby? Is it possible? Could it really be?
Lisa thought back to her mostly empty childhood. Growing up, she had read novels, like the
Ramona Quimby
series and
Little Women
. The families in these stories were steered by loving parents. Those parents always took an interest in their children. As a school age girl, her mornings and afternoons spent at school had been pleasant enough. There were kind and encouraging teachers and challenging work. After school, Lisa would frequently come home to an empty house because Mother often travelled for work. Three days per week, Mrs. Harrison would be at home waiting. Mrs. Harrison did light chores, such as dusting the fireplace mantle and bookshelves, and making Lisa’s bed. She was kind-hearted, and on the days when she worked, she would serve Lisa milk and cookies after she got home from school. She would ask Lisa all about her day, all about her teachers and classmates and homework. This was something Mother never did.

Mother was often traveling abroad for work. When she was not traveling, she usually worked late into the evening. Mother was a secretary of some sort with a door-to-door sales company. At night, after Mrs. Harrison left, the men would often come to the house. Sometimes two, three, or more men would ring the doorbell once night had fallen. They would gather in the front room, talking in low voices with Mother. They each carried a briefcase, and inside were black boxes of all shapes and sizes. Lisa would sometimes notice them stacked up on a table in the room.

Lisa knew all this because on occasion Mother would call her into the room, as if to show off her little girl like a prize-winning racehorse. The men would pinch her cheek and quiz her on her sums or her spelling words. These strangers frightened Lisa, so she would always recite the requested facts with obedience. Then she would go upstairs and sit at her window until she saw them leave. When they departed, she would breathe a sigh of relief. Those guys just seemed creepy to her, but she never could explain why.

Mother always told Lisa that she worked with these men. When Lisa asked about the black boxes, Mother told her that they were door-to-door salesmen and that the boxes were filled with merchandise. It did seem strange to Lisa, but she was always too scared to look in the boxes or ask more questions.

When Mother was asleep and the men were gone, Lisa would sometimes stay up late reading or looking at the large atlas until two o’ clock in the morning or later. Lisa was not an avid lover of reading, but she did find solace and comfort in those late nights. She enjoyed being in her mother’s office, which held several full bookcases.

She still crept into the office at night on occasion, but not as often as when she was a little girl. The escape, which was provided by reading, seemed less appealing as she got older. Now, she desired real escape. She longed to explore the world, or at least to leave New York for a while.

In Mother’s home, Lisa felt trapped. The woman’s coldness used to hurt Lisa, but now it mostly aggravated her. She longed to have a parent she could talk to. Lisa had asked about her father on several occasions, but her questions always made Mother angry. She would snap that he ran off and died when she was a baby. Mother would always command Lisa not to ask about her father anymore. Still, Lisa was often curious to know more about who he was.

Lisa glanced outside. It was still dark. In the moonlight, she could identify the hands of her clock. It was a quarter ‘til five in the morning. She lay her head on her pillow and tucked her body further under the cool white sheet, bathed in moonlight, while she pondered her future.
I need to tell Mother that I’m going to Boston for school. I’ve got to tell her. I’ve got to get over my fear and hesitation and just tell her the truth,
Lisa decided.
What’ve I got to be afraid of? Sure, she’ll freak out. But now I’m eighteen and I can make my own decisions.