Perhaps sensing that Izzy was unable to think of a response, or perhaps simply not caring what she had to say, Mrs. Jackson continued.
“Let me offer some suggestions, Isabel. I don’t know what Hal told you about his finances. Hal had a trust fund, but he was quite reckless with his money. There is almost nothing left. He was borrowing money from his father and me for the past few years to pay off debts he had incurred for reasons that he did not share and we did not ask about. If you were to think about legal proceedings regarding child support, you would find very little that Hal’s estate could offer. What I am offering, instead, is a lump sum to help with the initial stages of the rearing of the child, as well as a promise to pay for the cost of having the baby, any medical bills you might take on. My husband, if you didn’t know, was one of the most prominent OB/GYNs in the state and he still has many contacts in the field. We want you to go to a very respectable doctor in Chattanooga, perhaps the best doctor in the state. And my husband has also set up a meeting with a researcher and doctor who might be able to help you further with your current situation. It would be beneficial for you and for, as crass as it sounds, our family.”
“What kind of meeting?” Izzy asked. She thought about the offer of money, which, even with the pain of Hal’s death still settling upon her, she could not ignore.
“A possible research project that would help pay for the care of your child and offer the possibility of training and a career for you, if I understand correctly, though I don’t have the full details. It would be a wonderful opportunity.”
“What if I say no?” Izzy said.
“Very little would change,” Mrs. Jackson admitted. “You would be a single mother with very few resources trying to raise a child in inhospitable circumstances. You would only cause unnecessary emotional pain to people that Hal cared about very deeply.”
“And if I say yes?” Izzy asked.
“You will find that things would be easier for you and your child. I would imagine, especially now that my son is no longer with us, that he would have hoped that you would take care of yourself and this baby.”
“Hal didn’t want me to have the baby,” Izzy said.
“That was not up to him, frankly. It was not his position to demand that. I love my son, but he did not behave honorably. If you want to have the baby, I would not dream of trying to dissuade you. I’m only trying to find a way that everyone benefits from these awful circumstances.”
“I can’t think about this right now.”
“Not right this minute, I understand. I want you to take my number and we can talk about this in the coming weeks.”
Izzy took the slip of paper from Mrs. Jackson and put it in her pocket. She realized how long she’d been away from the smoker, from her work. She stood up to leave and Mrs. Jackson, for the first time, reached for Izzy’s hand.
“I’m so sorry, Isabel,” Mrs. Jackson said. “I know that you loved him, and so, since I loved him, too, I know this is very difficult to deal with.”
“It’s awful,” Izzy admitted. Mrs. Jackson’s face was blank, with the slightest hint of exasperation, which suggested to Izzy that she did not entirely understand or believe in her son’s love for Izzy.
“There will be a funeral, dear,” Mrs. Jackson continued, “but I hope you might give our family the space to grieve in our own way.”
“I have to go,” Izzy said, pulling her hand away from Mrs. Jackson. She thought Mrs. Jackson said something else, but she was already out of earshot. Jessica, the waitress who had been watching them, came over to Izzy.
“You okay, sweetie?” she asked.
“I’m okay,” Izzy said.
“Who was that?”
“Nobody. Friend of the family. Somebody we know died.”
“She looks familiar.”
“She’s nobody,” Izzy said, and Jessica shrugged her shoulders as if giving up the matter, and then patted Izzy on the shoulder.
Izzy kept moving, back through the kitchen, to the smokehouse, where Mr. Tannehill was standing over the opened Dr. Sears book, biting his thumbnail, nodding his head in agreement with whatever he had just read. He still had not noticed her, and Izzy composed herself in that moment. When he finally looked up, he gestured to the book and said, “How can something be so simple and so complicated at the same time?” She shook her head. She had absolutely no idea, no concept of how anything in this world truly worked.