Shared Daughter: A Tale of Two Parents

One Daughter for Two
Love blossomed quickly between Margaret and Oliverit was as if fate had brought them together from their very first meeting. After dating for a month, Oliver surprised Margaret at dinner one evening.
Margaret, will you marry me? he asked abruptly, catching her off guard.
How? Marry? Weve only been seeing each other for a month! she laughed nervously.
So what? It just took me a month to realise youre the one I want to spend my life with. No one else matters to me. Youre my destiny
Margaret smiled shyly. Honestly, Oliver, I accept, she whispered, nestling close.
Her mum, Edith, was sceptical about Margarets sudden decision. Darling, are you sure youre not rushing? Are you pregnant? she prodded.
Oh Mum, dont be silly! Of course not. Oliver just told me he cant imagine life without me, and I feel the same. Its just love, Mum.
Those whod questioned their whirlwind romance soon saw how well-suited the couple were. Oliver was devoted, and Margaret loved and cared for him in return.
Their love was true and heartfelt, but there was one thing clouding their happinessthey desperately wanted children, but Margaret never fell pregnant.
Oliver, perhaps we need to see a doctor. There must be some reason we cant have a baby, she proposed.
I agree, replied her husband, without hesitation.
So began their hope-filled visits to clinics, prayers, and journeys, but hope, alas, faded. Margaret couldnt conceive.
Margaret, perhaps we should visit an orphanage, find a child we can raise as our own, Oliver suggested gently.
Id love that! Margaret burst out. Shed secretly dreamed of adopting, but was afraid Oliver would object. Ive thought about it, too
Lets do it then, Oliver said. I know a childrens home I pass coming back from work trips.
When Margaret and Oliver went to the orphanage, they found dozens of wary children, but one little blonde girl with blue eyes ran over and hugged Margarets legs.
Mummy! she exclaimed, delighted. The woman couldnt bear to let her go.
That is how little Lucy entered their livesa bubbly, spirited girl whose laughter lit up their home. Margaret finally felt fulfilled, her motherly instincts blossoming at last. She adored Lucy, and Oliver doted on her just as much.
Life ran smoothly. They lived in a village where everyone knew each other. Their neighbours, of course, knew Lucy was adopted, but while she was little, there were never issues. As the years passed and Lucy grew into a teenager, trouble began. Someone at school told Lucy she was adopted.
Lucy was fourteen then, and she came home from school distraught. She screamed and sobbed.
Mum, why didnt you and Dad ever tell me I wasnt your real daughter? I know you adopted me.
Margaret tried to soothe her. Lucy, we always meant to tell you when you were older, so it wouldnt hurt so much. We dreaded the day someone else said it first
Lucy cried and yelled. After that, she became withdrawn and then angry. Adolescence was hard enough, and Lucys attitude toward her parents changed; she became rude, slammed doors, and sometimes even shouted.
Then tragedy struck. Oliver died suddenly in a car accident while returning from a business trip in London during a heavy snowstorm, only days before Christmas.
Oliver often travelled for work, sometimes for a week, and if he was late back, hed send Margaret a postcardthere werent mobile phones then. When he died, Margaret was forty-six. Instead of supporting her mum, Lucy became wild. She vanished for hours, didnt listen, and was increasingly rude.
Margaret tried desperately to reach her daughter, pleading and crying, but never once raised her voice. That was how they lived. Lucy grew up quickly. Once she finished school, she came to Margaret and announced:
Im moving to London, Lucy said firmly.
Margaret looked at her, weary, gripping her tea towel. Are you planning to study, darling?
No, Mum. Im going to find my birth mother
Margarets heart stopped. Why, Lucy? Am I not your mother?
Lucy turned to stare out the window, silent for ages. I need to know who she is. Why she left me. Why she abandoned me. I have the right to understand.
You do, darling, Margaret replied quietly. She knew nothing could stop Lucy.
Lucy was nearly nineteen. She packed her few belongings in a small bag, kissed Margarets cheek, and promised to visit sometimes. Lucy left for the bus stop, and Margaret watched her daughter leave with sadness. Margaret was alone.
Time passed slowly. Margaret, now retired, often spent cold winter evenings sorting through Olivers postcards, kept in an old biscuit tin tied with a ribbon. There werent many cards; the last, with a faded sprig of holly, said: Margaret, delayed for three days, miss you. Love, your Oliver.
Margaret stroked the card with trembling fingers, hugging it to her chest as if embracing her late husband. So many years had passed, so much had changed. Nearly twenty-five years since Olivers death.
Margaret sat by the window, smothered by memories. Lately she’d grown frail, rarely leaving home except to pop into the village shop. Shed once joined the other women on the bench by the shop, but now stayed in, with the curtains drawn, the postbox empty, and silence that only broke when her cat, Toby, leapt off the windowsill or purred loudly.
Margaret fed Toby and drank her tea, deciding to run to the shop later. She glanced at Olivers photo on the mantelhim holding little Lucy, both smiling.
Oh, Oliver, you left me so soon. Now Im all alone, she would address the photograph. Complete silence.
One day, as she drank her tea, someone knocked on the garden gate. She remembered how Lucy had matter-of-factly announced she was off to find her birth mother, and relived the painful morning when Lucy had left. The sky had been grey and still. Margaret sat in her kitchen, brewing tea, when there was a knock.
She slipped her shoes on, draped a shawl over her shoulders, and went outside. At the gate stood a woman, much younger than herself, with sad eyes.
Hello Margaret? The strangers voice shook.
Yes, who are you?
The woman shifted nervously. Im Lucys motherher other mother I mean, her biological mother. My names Vera. I suppose you understand, she stammered.
Margaret felt a chill inside. Lucy had left not long ago, and now her biological mother was here.
Wait, if youre here, somethings happened to Lucy? Margaret asked, worried.
Vera spoke quickly and uncertainly: Lucys in hospital In London, somethings wrong with her stomach. We were walking in the park, she grabbed her stomach and collapsed onto a bench, turned pale, and I called an ambulance.
They stood in silence, facing each other.
Lucy found me a while ago, but was scared to tell you, Vera said tearfully.
Oh, were standing out here, lets go inside, Margaret murmured, breaking her daze at last.
She poured Vera hot tea, and the woman explained, sitting at the table: I was very young when Lucy was born. My parents were strict and forced me to give her up. My fiancé disappeared as soon as he heard I was pregnant, and my parents threatened to throw me out unless I gave up my baby. I signed the papers in hospital Ive lived with this for years But Lucy begged me to bring you to the hospital.
Margaret jumped up. Why didnt Lucy call me?
Her phone was stolen. Her whole bag, reallyby the time the ambulance arrived, shed left her bag on the bench with all her documents. When I came back, it was gone
Oh, my poor girl, Margaret whispered.
She gave me your address herself. Said, find my mum.
Both women were silent, exchanging glances, united only in worry and exhaustion.
Lets go, said Margaret, locking the door. Quickly!
The old bus seemed to crawl as it rolled toward London. Margaret and Vera sat quietly at first, then began to talk.
Im alone too, Vera sighed. My husband died three years ago, after a long illness. We tried for children for years, but I never had another. I sometimes think its Gods punishment for giving up Lucy. Thats my penance
So, apart from Lucy, we have no one else, Margaret said softly.
Thats right One daughter, for both of us Vera answered, sadly.
At the hospital, the nurse asked: Who are you here for?
For Lucy Baker, they chimed together.
And you are?
Her mothers, they replied, and giggled at their synchrony.
Two mothers? All right then, go ahead
Lucy lay pale in bed, IV drip attached. Seeing both women, she smiled faintly.
Mum and Mum she whispered.
Margaret kissed her first. Hush now, darling, Im here, and Vera settled beside her.
Its going to be all right, love, youre not alone, Vera said, adjusting the blanket.
They sat for hours by Lucys bedside, talking about everything.
From then on, Lucy had two mothers, and soon a husband and two sons. For Margaret and Vera, Lucy was their one daughter, shared between them. Occasionally, the whole family gathered.
Thank you for reading, subscribing and your support. Wishing you luck and all the best.