The Midwife's Choice by Delia Parr

We’ll see she eats well, gets plenty of rest, attends meeting every Sunday, saves a good portion of her wages, never leaves the house without a chaperone, and writes to you at least once a week. I—I brought references with me. They’re right upstairs. I have a letter from our pastor, Reverend Blackstone, and another our housekeeper dictated to me since she’s never been schooled in her letters.”
    Overwhelmed, Martha suspected she had been out-talked and outmaneuvered, if not outwitted. June had cleverly addressed almost every concern in Martha’s heart, and she just wanted to . . . to hate her.
    But she could not.
    She just could not.
    June Morgan had not prompted the crisis tonight.
    If Martha had let Victoria explain about her life in New York City, if she had treated Victoria like a young woman instead of a child, if she had only listened to her daughter, Victoria would not have left the kitchen in tears or issued her own ultimatum.
    Martha herself and her all-fired pride and strong maternal emotions had driven her child straight to another woman for comfort tonight, just like she had driven her from home last June.
    Truth be told, there was much more at the root of her turmoilthat nourished her determination to keep Victoria in Trinity. Her late husband, John, had turned his back on both family and social standing when he quit his studies at Harvard and moved west. He had built a good life for them all as a yeoman farmer, and it was only after his untimely death that his father, Graham Cade, had entered Martha’s life.
    She had steadfastly refused all of his efforts to have her move to Boston so he could see to his grandchildren’s welfare, but when Oliver turned fourteen, she could not argue with his decision to go to Boston to begin studying law under his grandfather. Today, he practiced in his grandfather’s law firm.
    The irony never ceased to confound her. Oliver now had the life his father had rejected, but to lose Victoria to a city, too, was almost too much to bear. Her eyes filled with tears, and her heart ached with every heavy beat that pounded in her chest.
    Had God blessed Martha with these two children, only to have them reject the life both she and John had wanted for them here in Trinity?
    Was she being completely selfish?
    Probably.
    That thought did not sit well, any more than the next thought. At least she and Oliver remained close. He visited at least once a year and always left with her promise she would come to Boston to see him. If she totally alienated Victoria, if she forced Victoria to disobey her and return to New York City without her mother’s blessing, could Martha ever hope to see her again?
    The answer cut to the very essence of her spirit.
    And if she were honest and fair, she would realize that this was an opportunity for Victoria that Martha could never give to her. She could not ever hope to match the Morgans’ wealth or station. She could not help Victoria to pursue her talents, any more than she could have done for Oliver. Not without Graham Cade.
    She could, however, offer Victoria what no one else could—a mother’s love and understanding and encouragement to nurture the gifts the Creator had given to her.
    Martha let out a deep sigh and knew what she must do. “I think the water is ready now. If you could fetch those references, I’ll fix the tea. But be careful not to wake Victoria. Not just yet,” she added, just in case June thought Martha was completely ready to give in.
    With a relieved and hopeful smile on her face, June rose from her seat. “I think there are some oatmeal cookies left from supper. Do you think Fern and Ivy would mind if we had some? I simply can’t resist sweets.”
    Martha chuckled, in spite of herself. No, she could not harbor any ill feelings for this younger woman. Jealousy, perhaps. Even a little envy that a woman who hankered for sweets like June said she did could