“Does that…?” She pauses, a blush reddening her cheek.
“Does what?”
I finish covering up and glance at her, but she’s looking away. “Go ahead, Mellie. Ask me whatever you want.”
“Well, I was just, you know, wondering what it felt like when DC…” She shrugs, unable to force the rest of the sentence out of her mouth.
I understand how she feels. I remember wondering about things like that when Lola was born. “What does it feel like to nurse DC?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Melanie, having your baby at your breast is one the most wonderful sensations in the world. Mothers always want to be able to give their children what they need, but it seems that we’re only really good at it when they’re very young. They grow up way before we’re ready, like you did. They find other things to make them happy.” I stroke DC’s cheek and think this will be my last chance to give everything to a baby, to be the most important thing in a child’s life. “For this little period of time, though, I can take care of everything DC needs and wants.”
“But, does it hurt?” She shivers and I can imagine what she’s thinking.
I can’t help but chuckle. She has no idea that breasts can give a woman pleasure and pride and satisfaction instead of the discomfort I know Mellie feels now. “Not really. I know what you’re thinking, but you won’t always be this tender and sore.” I pick up a strand of her ponytail and let the softness flow through my fingers. “When DC nurses, it feels like he’s tugging on a string that runs from my breast to the heart of me. Every nibble and suck is another tug on that string that makes us closer, ties us to each other. Just like when he was inside me and he got his food through the umbilical cord. Remember when we talked about that?”
She nods.
“From the very beginning of your life, we’ve been tied together, first by the cord, then by this invisible string that we create by nursing. Mamas and their babies are always connected. Like you and I are connected.”
Tears glisten in Mellie’s eyes but she smiles at me, a wistful kind of smile, full of love and hurt and hope and fear. I take her hand in mine. “So, why don’t you tell me what’s happened?”
“Mama, I started my period on Wednesday.”
“Oh, Mellie, I ruined your special day. I’m so sorry.”
“Special? It felt pretty awful to me.”
“It does, doesn’t it? But it’s not really awful. You’re truly a young woman now.”
“I guess so.”
“Did you have cramps?”
“Awful. And I was sick to my stomach. It happened during Math class, while we were having an evacuation drill.” The whole awful story spills out.
I feel so bad that I wasn’t at home to take care of her when she needed me. Her hand clutches mine so tightly, I can guess how scared she must have been. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”
She shrugs and pulls her hand away.
“I’ll make this up to you somehow.
“It’s okay. Stephanie and Flossie helped me out.” She hesitates, twisting her hands in her lap. “But I’m worried about the drills.”
How do I ease her mind about
this
terrifying thing? I know how to comfort her when she has cramps. I know what to do when that inevitable first heartbreak comes along. My mother gave me a good example in those instances. But Mama never talked about how her mother comforted her during World War II. What was their conversation like after Pearl Harbor?
Of course, this Cuban situation isn’t going to get that bad. We don’t even have to worry about that. These are just precautions. All I can think to say is, “It was just a drill.”
Mellie looks at me like I’ve been locked away from civilization for month.
“But what if it really happens? What if we are attacked? I don’t want to go to some other place. I don’t want to be away from you and Daddy.”
I glance away from her searching gaze, looking down to my sweet, helpless little boy. Those crazy things Rachel Winston said about bringing a child into this dangerous world suddenly don’t seem so far-fetched. But I can’t show my fear. I have to be strong. I have to use common sense. That means I have to make sure my children are safe. If safety means we’re separated for little while, then…
Besides, the Russians are bluffing. I take a deep breath. “The important thing is for you to be safe. The school knows what’s best. But nothing is going to happen. Do you hear me? We’re all going to be fine. This is all just a bunch of talk.”
Mellie looks doubtful, and my heart sinks. Is this where we begin to drift apart? So early? Is this the thing that makes my girl doubt that I can take care of her? I can’t find my way out of these thoughts to the words that will comfort her.
DC kicks his feet and wails his newborn cry. I know how to solve this problem. I’ll teach Mellie. “He needs to burp. Do you want to do it?” I lift the baby toward her.
She stares down at his little mouth, opened in a squall, milk pooled in the corners of his lips. He twists in my hands.
Mellie looks unsure. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Just hold his head and put him against your shoulder. He’ll snuggle into you. Then you just pat his back until he burps.” I drape a diaper over her shoulder and help get him settled. He snuggles into her like he was made to fit there.
“Like this?” She pats his back, barely touching him. His little legs jerk.
“You need to be more firm. He needs some help getting the air bubble up.”
She pats a bit harder and his legs quit jerking. “Just like that, Sweetie.”
I rest against my pillow and think into the future. Think about my Mellie holding her own baby, my grandchild. DC has stopped squirming and is resting peacefully on Mellie’s shoulder. Now she knows. She knows how to do the one thing a woman has always been able to fix, throughout wars and peace and everything in between.
“When I put him on formula in a few weeks, you’ll be able to feed him and burp him. You’ll be a big help to me.”
“Okay.” She smiles at me, looking so very grown up.
The quiet in my room is soothing and my eyes drift shut.
Then, I hear Birdie slam the front door.
BIRDIE
“Do you have your nickels?”
My best friends, Mary and Ramona, each hold out a nickel. Mary’s is shiny new, but Ramona’s is so dingy I have to make sure it’s really a nickel. Yep. I put them in my pocket. If I can get two nickels a day, I’ll have enough money to buy ice cream at school every day.
“Okay. You remember the rules, right? You have to be quiet.”
I keep my finger against my lips while we walk through the house. Mama must be in her bedroom. I put up my hand so Mary and Ramona will stop to wait at the door. They have their hands folded behind them just like I said.
Mama is propped up against some pillows and Mellie is holding the baby. I didn’t get to hold the baby like that. Mama made me sit beside her on the bed, and she kept her hand behind his head the whole time. Oh, well. I’ve got business to take care right now. “Mama, can we see the baby? Don’t worry,” I rush on. “I told them what to do since they don’t have any babies at their houses.”
“You and your friends can see DC this time. But, Birdie. Honestly.” Mama’s lips go flat and I know she’s not happy with me. I’m not sure why, though. Why doesn’t she want to show off my new brother?
"From now on, ask my permission before bringing your friends inside.”
“All right. But can we see him?” I fold my hands in front of me like my teacher does, and I talk in a soft, but grown-up way, to Mary and Ramona. I’m teaching them about babies. All girls need to know about babies. “See, this is what a baby really looks like. He’s much littler than we always think. No chubby legs.” I point to his legs dangling from the blanket. His socks droop off his toes like empty balloons. They are always falling off. I wish I got a nickel for every one I found on the floor. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about having money for ice cream every day.
But I have to keep talking so we can get to the good part. “And, see? No big eyes.” I push at Mellie’s shoulder. “Uh, Melanie? Turn around so they can see his face.”
She looks at Mama, who winks at her and nods. That means it’s okay for her to move and let us see DC’s face. What’s she waiting for, then? “Turn around. They want to see.”
Mary and Ramona come stand beside Melanie. Ramona adjusts her glasses so she can get a good look. Mary pulls out her handkerchief to wipe her nose. Uh-oh. “Mama, Mary doesn’t have a cold. Her mother said it’s hayfever. She gets it every fall.”
“Maybe Mary should keep her handkerchief over her nose and mouth. Okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Adams. I will.”
“You still haven’t seen the best thing.” I prop my elbows next to Mama’s pillow. “Mama, aren’t you going to change his diaper now?”
Mama and Mellie burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
Mama puts her hand over her mouth and makes her eyes serious, though her cheeks are still smiling. “No, Birdie. I’m not going to change his diaper now.”
That’s a surprise. She changes his diaper every time she holds him. Besides, I’ve got two nickels in my pocket. “But, Mama. I promised.”
“Sorry, Birdie. DC is your brother, not a zoo exhibit.”
Just then DC lets out a scream. He jerks his head and kicks his feet. Melanie hands him back to Mama.
Over the screaming, she says, “Y’all go back outside and play.”
“Okay, we’re going.” I motion for Mary and Ramona to follow me. “See? He’s just as loud as I told you.”
Mary says, “Birdie, I want my nickel back.”
Thursday, October 18,1962
MELANIE
Stephanie came home with me after school. Since Cherie ran away, Steph’s been at my house a lot. Mama doesn’t mind. We do our homework, watch TV, and sometimes Steph will help me do chores. But today, when Mama tells me to fold the clothes, Steph announces she’s going to Marvin’s.
“Stephanie, make sure you call your mother and tell her where you are.” Mama has reminded Steph to call home for the last three days.
“I will Mrs. Adams. Bye.” Steph grabs her books and leaves through the screened porch to cut across our back yard to Marvin’s house. She hardly ever talks about Buzz anymore, especially since her big plans for the Sadie Hawkins Day dance were cancelled by
Cherie’s Adventure
. That’s what she calls it,
Cherie’s Adventure
, like the title of a book. She says it real sarcastic like.
There’s a knock at the front door. I’m surprised to open the door to see Cherie standing there, holding a little package wrapped in blue paper printed with booties. I guess
The
Adventure
is over already. Cherie smiles at me more sweetly than she ever has before.
“Hi, Melanie. Is your mother busy?”
Mama comes up behind me, with DC in her arms. “Cherie, come on in. How are you?”
Mama and Cherie settle on the sofa, while I close the door.
“Oh, he’s so beautiful,” Cherie whispers. Her hands seem to reach out to touch DC without her moving.
“Do you want to hold him, Cherie?”
“Oh, could I?”
She looks so different, I can’t believe she’s only been gone a week or so. Almost everything about her has changed. She’s wearing a lot less make-up and her hair is softer. I never realized how pretty Cherie really is until today. She has the clear and glowing complexion the teen magazines write articles about. Her eyes are a nice green.
She holds DC in her arms like she’s afraid he’ll break. When she glances up at Mama, Cherie’s eyes glisten with tears. She looks like an angel, a sad, pretty angel.
Mama wipes a tear from her cheek, too.
“Melanie, why don’t you get us some iced tea? And how about bringing some of that cake that Flossie made today?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
In the kitchen, I pour three glasses of tea. I look out the window to watch Flossie taking the clean laundry off the clothesline, but I’m listening to Mama and Cherie talking in the living room.
Through the open kitchen door, I hear Mama say, “So, how do you like married life, Cherie?”
“Okay, I guess.” Cherie’s voice is barely a whisper.
“Be patient, honey. Everything will settle down soon.”
Cherie’s voice changes, like she’s answering a question in class, one she’s certain she has the right answer for. “Don’t get me wrong, Mrs. Adams. Clint is terrific. We have a nice little apartment near his work. It’s just that Mama and Daddy don’t understand. They can’t remember what it’s like to be in love.”
“Are you sure that’s it, Cherie?”
“Sure, why else would they be so mean to Clint? They treat him like he’s a criminal.”
I don’t quite understand what’s going on, but Mama looks at Cherie as a friend now, someone with the same interests as herself. How has Cherie suddenly gone from a teenager to a woman, someone who could be Mama’s friend?
Flossie stoops over and lifts the wicker clothes basket to her hip. Tilting back her head, she scans the sky and smiles before turning toward the screen porch. I cover the pound cake with a clink of aluminum against the glass cake plate. Mama and Cherie are laughing at something I didn’t hear.