Mother Knows Best(book 1)

Chapter 11

  The End

"I don't know what to say," he said.

"It's okay," she replied. "I know what we are---and I know what we're not."

Lang Leav

               Mrs. Smoothers breathed it in heavily, throwing her head back a little, and then puffed out circles of smoke. There were several bottles around her; curved, round like her belly, and half-drunk. Mrs. Smoothers was everything, but a mother. And at 9 months, she had developed a heavy drinking and smoking issue. She was a brittle woman, easy to wither like roses, and although her belly was not bigger than a cantaloupe, she had reached her max of waiting. She had a head of hair, ironed flat and colorless strands, where dark ginger curls used to be. Mrs. Walters was far thinner, all bones and shadows, her head over weighing her neck.

          "I have no interest in having a baby," she scoffed, crushing the end of her blunt on the table. "They are little money wasters. Creatures of destruction and complete home-wreckers. You know?" Her eyes; aged, dreary, and dark brown; stared remorselessly at the bottles. "I'm sure you think otherwise, Lilura, right?"

           Lilura murmured, "Yes, children are lovely. Very lovely." She forced food down her throat without tasting it, to keep the gnawing pain of hunger away, to keep her from feeling uneasy. She took the sides of her belly in her hands, rubbing protectively and delicately. "You have many many kids"---her obvious speculation, followed by tiny footsteps running around.

          Mrs. Smoothers groaned low in her throat, then turned to stare. Three little boys dash passed the two; heads full of hair, round faces, and limbs, mini copies of their father. They were covered, from head to toe, in bold freckles. And their father, Judge Smoothers, who was a sensible and well-respected man, kept them busy as boys should be.

         "Money wasters," Mrs. Smoothers hissed, and then in a much lower voice, "wasting all my money. And as my midwife, you ought to be telling my husband no more."

       Lilura smiled an unsure smile. "What is a man without offsprings--"

"--for he has no means to continue his name. I know, I know. You've told me so many times, but motherhood is just not for me. Motherhood is a prison. There is no room to breathe, no room to be yourself. There is no room for oneself in motherhood. I don't entirely know why I am talking to you, you've never been a mother before. You would not understand, Lilura, you just won't understand."

          "With all respect, Mrs. Smoothers, you really should stop drinking and smoking. One of your children has a cleft lip, the other, born underweight, and the last, breathing issues."

            "Lilura, with all heavenly respect, but I do as I please. I am I do soon?"

                            "Very soon, ma'am. Very soon."

        Mrs. Smoothers exhaled deeply. "I wish for it to disappear. You hear me, Lilura, I wish for this child to seek extinction quickly. Do not tell my husband this, but I wish not to bear anymore for him. My only pleasure is to have his wallet to my breast. To take all I desire, even if it does not belong to me. I have no interest in being in motherhood, and I wish for it to leave me."

            She then speaks in a much lower tone, enough for Lilura to hear but not the children. "And if it were to die, it would be my greatest request. You can do that for me, can you?"