“Hello?” I’m trembling.
“It’s just me.”
Stephanie. I let out a big sigh. “Thank goodness. I was afraid something had happened to Mama.”
“No, but something’s happened to
my
mom.” Anger squeezes her voice tight, like it’s being pushed through a tiny tube. “I swear she’s lost her mind.” She huffs into the phone. “Now she won’t even let me out of the house. I’m gonna kill Cherie when she gets home.” Steph sucks in a deep breath. “So, you’re gonna have to come over here to get the stuff.”
“Really? She won’t even let you bring it to me?” It does sound like Mrs. Starr has a screw loose.
“Nope. It’s like I’m living in a concentration camp now.”
A car pulls into the driveway, its headlights shining through the twilight gloom of our living room. I hadn’t even remembered to turn on the lamps. Birdie jumps up from the chair and runs to throw open the front door.
“Flossie’s here,” I say to Steph. “I’ll be over in a few minutes, okay?” I slam the receiver down. Standing in the front door, I watch Flossie and her brother, Max, hand small paper bags to Birdie, then load their own arms with larger items and Flossie’s ever-present shopping bag.
“So, how are the big sisters this fine evenin’?” Flossie sings out.
Max tips his hat to me, and I open the door wider. He walks in behind Birdie.
“Can I help with anything?” I reach out to take a bag from Flossie, but she shoos me away.
“I can manage this, sugar. You just close the door behind us. I swear, sometimes Max still thinks he was raised in barn.” Flossie chuckles. “C’mon girls, we’re gonna fry us some chicken and make us some biscuits.”
Birdie dances in the kitchen. “How did you know I wanted fried chicken, Flossie?”
“Well, now, most of the time little birds don’t eat fried chicken. But I knew me and Mellie would be wantin’ some.”
Birdie dances faster and claps her hands together. “But this little bird l-o-v-e-s fried chicken.”
“Gracious me, and she can spell, too.”
“Y-e-s, ma’am.”
“All right then, fried chicken for everybody.” Flossie tugs a clean white apron out of her shopping bag and ties it over her red print dress. She carefully takes off her hat, sticking the hatpin through the crown before placing it on top of the other items in her bag.
Max clears his throat. “Flossie, you all set, then?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. We’re gonna have us a time, aren’t we, girls?”
Max twirls his ball cap around on his finger. “Birdie, don’t you let this ol’ gal talk you into any trouble now.” His wide grin crinkles his eyes at the corners. Even his ears wiggle just a smidgen from the force of his smile. “’Less I hear different, I’ll pick you up tomorrow evenin’.”
It seems like Max is never going to leave, and I’m never going to get to Steph’s.
Flossie nods and waves her hands in the air like she’s scattering flies. “That’s right, Max. Now go on home to your wife. We got some chicken to fry.”
“Bye, Max.” Birdie dances to the front door with him and waves until his headlights lead him down the street.
Finally, I can get going. “Flossie, is it okay for me to go to Stephanie’s house for a few minutes? I need to get something.” I pull the last item out of the grocery bags on the table and put the buttermilk in the refrigerator.
“It’s mostly dark outside now, Mellie.”
I swallow. What if she won’t let me go? What will I do then? “I know, but this is important. I’ll come straight home.”
Flossie rubs her hands down the front of her apron, like she’s still thinking about whether or not to let me go. “What on earth is so important?”
All I can think about is I need to get some better protection soon. I’ve already used up half a roll of toilet paper.
I don’t want to lie to Flossie, but I don’t want to go into all the details either. The best I can come up with is, “I forgot something from school.” And I did, in a way.
With a sigh, Flossie says, “No messin’ round, now. I’ll need some help with the biscuits if we’re gonna eat before midnight.”
I’m about to burst with relief when I say, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Hurry, Mellie. I’m starvin’,” Birdie says while she drags a chair into the kitchen to help with the chicken.
FLOSSIE
The girls and me are sittin’ on the screened porch lettin’ our suppers digest a bit before bed time. I’ve never seen a tiny thing like Birdie eat so much. I’m surprised she doesn’t have chicken and biscuits and mashed potatoes comin’ out of her ears. But then, I ate my share. Mellie, she didn’t put a dint in her dinner.
Can’t quite figure out what’s troublin’ her. I’m thinkin’ it’s more than just worry about her Mama and the baby. Well, if she needs to, she’ll tell me what’s the matter. Not my business to go messin’ in hers.
I’m enjoying my last cup of coffee and humming as Melanie and me push the glider back and forth with our feet. Birdie’s gone quiet. I think she might be asleep. She’s wrapped in her blanket and tucked up under my arm like a little chick.
The night is black as pitch and the earlier storm has settled into a steady rain, its rhythm only interrupted by an occasional distant rumble of thunder. The quiet is soft and settled around the three of us like Birdie’s blanket.
Melanie lets out a big sigh from her end of the glider, and I sense the restless anxiety easing out of the girl a bit.
“I didn’t have a chance to ask how your visit to Stephanie went. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. I just needed to borrow something from her.”
“I didn’t even think that you girls might have some homework. Do you?”
“No. Birdie doesn’t have homework yet. And we had an evacuation drill in school today, so I don’t have any either.”
“Say what? Evacuation drill?”
“Yes, ma’am. They made us line up like we were getting into cars to leave school.”
“Umm, umm, umm. You had to do that before?”
Melanie shakes her head. Now, that would be enough to make the girl tense-like. But I still have a feeling something else is bothering her. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t have homework tonight. You girls got enough on your mind without havin’ to worry about such as that.”
The lightning keeps up the show, but the thunder is a shadow sound. Birdie sleeps on. I’m just about to suggest we head to bed when Mellie says, “Flossie, you remember that day we were talking about Cherie and you sang that song with me?”
“I sure do. Remember it like it was yesterday.”
“Cherie ran off today and got married.”
“Umm, umm, umm. How’s Stephanie and her Mama and Daddy takin’ that news?”
“Not good. It was strange being in Steph’s room with most of Cherie’s stuff gone. The room looked empty and Stephanie seemed real sad. Except she acted like she was mad at her sister.”
“Well, sometimes we just don’t want folks to know what we’re really feelin’ inside. Sometimes mad is better than sad.”
“Maybe so. But I think Steph’s mom is going to be sad for a long time.”
“Probably not for that long. Soon as Cherie comes back and explains things, they’ll get back to normal.”
“Do you think so? Can you really get back to normal?”
“In this case they will. Cherie getting married happened before they all planned on it, but it would have happened sooner or later.”
“But when Mama comes home with the baby, that won’t be
normal. When we have more drills and stuff at school, things aren’t normal.”
“Mellie, you just have to let things happen as best you can. Life goes on. Things become normal again.”
’Course, that’s not exactly true. Sometimes you just limp on through the change and make the best of it.
Lord knows, that’s what I’ve had to do. After my Clyde was killed, I spent years hoping for normal to come back. Sometimes, it just never does.
The jangle of the phone sends Mellie rushing to the kitchen. I pick up Birdie, and we follow just in time to hear Mellie say, “Really? A boy?”
Birdie jumps down from my arms, wide awake. “It’s a boy, Flossie. A boy.”
All serious now, Mellie says, “How’s Mama?”
Birdie dances around, tugging on the phone cord, wanting her chance to talk. I pull her back against my legs so Mellie can finish talking to her Daddy.
“Three days before Mama can come home? That seems like a long time.”
Three days without their Mama will seem like a really long time to these girls. After a few minutes, Mellie says, “Bye, Daddy. I love you. Give Mama and David Clayton a kiss for me.”
She hands the phone to Birdie, who paces the kitchen, twirling the phone cord around her fingers like her mama does. “But, Daddy? If Mama has to stay in the hospital, who’s going to take me to get take my cast off?” She pauses for a minute. “You? You’re going to take me to the doctor? Okay, I guess.”
Melanie really smiles at me for the first time all evening. “Daddy said for us to go to bed. He wants to talk to you.”
“I ’spect he does. Why don’t you go ahead and brush your teeth and hair, sugar? I’ll send Birdie in a minute, then I’ll tuck you girls in.”
Another hour passes before I have the chance to rinse my coffee cup and turn out the kitchen light. Tiredness creeps into my bones like the moist air seeping in through the windows. I wish I was home, gettin’ ready to crawl into my own bed. Instead, I unfold a sheet and spread it on the sofa in the living room.
“Flossie.”
I ‘bout jump out of my skin before I realize it’s Melanie standing behind me in the dark. “You scared the life outta me, child. What’s the matter?”
She steps up beside me. In the bit of light coming in between the blinds, I see she’s got tears in her eyes. I want to hold her in my arms so bad. But she’s a young lady now. I can’t do something like that. It’s just not done. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Um. I got my period today, and my stomach hurts something awful. Can I have some aspirin?”
Besides everything else that happened to the poor girl today, she gets her monthly. “’Course you can have some aspirin. Want me to fix up the hot water bottle for you?”
“Will it help?”
“Most times it does help. It can’t hurt, can it?”
“No, ma’am. Thank you.”
“You go on back to bed, and I’ll bring you a glass of water and that hot water bottle.”
After I wrap a towel around the water bottle and get Mellie all settled in bed, she still looks like a lost lamb. She raises her arms toward me and much as I know I shouldn’t do it, I lean down and hug her. She wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me somethin’ fierce.
Those things that are so different about us don’t matter much just now. Not to me. Not to her.
Monday, October 15, 1962
NORAH
“Hi, Mama.”
Melanie stands at my bedroom door with her arms wrapped around her books. “Hi, Sweetie.” My new baby boy, DC, relaxes, his lips going slack on my nipple. I bring him up to my shoulder.
I haven’t seen her since I left for the hospital on Wednesday. It seems like forever, not just five days. She looks so much older. Maybe it’s because I’ve only seen DC and other babies lately. Even Birdie looked all grown up. “I swear you look like you’re a year older.”
She darts her gaze away from me, like she does when I’ve discovered something she wanted to keep secret from me. What have I missed in the days I’ve been gone?
But she recovers her composure and puts her books on the dresser.
“Come here and give me a hug,” I say.
She stands beside the bed. “Is it okay when you’re…?
“Of course, it’s okay.” I reach for her hand and tug her to me for a kiss and a hug. “We won’t break, Sweetie.”
My oldest girl feels so strong and solid against me. She smells like AquaNet and perspiration and Secret roll-on deodorant, a mixed bag of childish and womanly scents. Just knowing that babies can grow up into fine people like my Mellie gives me confidence. Before I can get all teary, DC huffs small breaths and pushes at Mellie’s stomach with his feet.
I pat the bed beside my hip, motioning for her to sit with me for a while. “So, how was school?”
She shrugs. “Okay.” Her brows pinch together and she looks away. “Are you all right, Mama?”
“I’m perfectly fine, Sweetie.” I adjust DC so he’s resting on my left side, facing Mellie. “And so is your brother.”
She smiles and looks down at her hands.
“You can touch him, you know.”
She takes her baby brother’s hand. “He’s so tiny.” When his fingers wrap around her index finger she sucks in a breath. “Look at his little fingernails,” she whispers. His lips move in a half smile. “Oh, he smiled at me. Hi, David Clayton.”
DC yawns and nuzzles my breast. “I think he’s a little tired from Birdie’s after school inspection. He’s also ready for his second course.”
Mellie’s staring at the baby’s mouth fixed around my nipple like it’s the strangest thing she’s ever seen. Maybe I should’ve covered up. There’s nothing like a maternity ward to make you forget about modesty. I reach for the extra receiving blanket beside me so I can drape it over DC.