Vada Faith (16 page)

“Don’t worry! Bobby Joe is still available and Bruiser too.”

“I’m not in the market for a man. Not one of those, anyway.” She sat down on a small wicker stool we kept in the bathroom for decoration. She seemed to be considering something. “Honey,” her voice softened, “you are about to make a big mistake here. If I didn’t think so I wouldn’t go on like this. You know how you jump in and do things then regret them later.”

“Like what. Name one thing I’ve done and regretted.”

“What about that lime green furniture you bought?”

“That’s different.” She was going to bring up every mistake I’d ever made.

“You can’t count the furniture. I recovered it. Besides, you can’t name one thing that’s had any lasting effect on me.”

“Well, you got married on impulse. That turned out good. You went and had the twins because all your friends were having babies. That turned out good.”

“So how do you know this won’t?”

“It can’t possibly turn out good. You are giving away the most precious thing in life. A baby. You’ll love this baby. I know you will. I’ll grow to love it too. I can’t help it. You know how much I love the twins.”

“You can love this baby. I’m not killing it, you know. I think it would be great if you would love it. You can be its long distance aunt. You can be its godmother. I don’t care. Not if it will make you feel better.”

“It won’t make me feel better. The only thing that will make me feel better is if you keep this baby and love it and raise it as your own child.”

She stood up and stretched. I did too. The bathroom was cramped.

“I just thought of something,” she moaned.

“What now?”

“What if it’s a boy? John Wasper would die for a boy. Don’t you want a son? John Wasper will freak out if this is a boy.”

“You’re forgetting something. It will be Roy’s son. His and Dottie’s. Honey, get it out of your mind that this little baby inside me is anything but theirs.”

I got cold chills when I said that. For it dawned on me that in spite of all the talk, I truly did have a baby growing inside me. Right that moment and this pregnancy would be unlike the one I’d had before and unlike any I’d ever have in the future.

This little seed of a baby inside me would grow until it stretched me out like a balloon. Like I was growing a watermelon inside me. I would go through all the discomfort and pain of carrying it. All the negatives. The hemorrhoids and the stretch marks. All the positives too. The baby showers. The presents. Perhaps I wouldn’t be as pampered by my family and my husband wouldn’t be beside himself as he was when I was pregnant with the twins. But still it was something to celebrate.

Sure there would be the labor of bringing this baby into the world. Just as my breasts began to fill with milk, I would have to hand him or her over to someone else to raise. How would that feel?

I remembered what Dottie had said about breast feeding. I’d wanted to breast feed the twins. But it had been too much for me. They’d been too hungry and my milk too slow. I’d had to turn to modern technology to retain my sanity. I bit my lip to keep from letting any tears form in my eyes.

“I’m smothering. I’ve got to get out of this bathroom.” I opened the door and was hit by bright lights and fresh air. Not fresh exactly. Beauty shop air is a mix of perfume and chemicals but fresher than the cubbyhole bathroom.

“Do your comb out,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, “and I’ll start dancing with the broom. Maybe we can get out of here before dark.”

“Right,” she said, and cranked up the volume on the country station on her way to get her customer from under the dryer.

I pulled the broom to me and made my way across the floor to Patsy Cline singing the classic, “Blue.” Of all songs.

“Why are you crying?” John Wasper sat down on the edge of the bed where I was sprawled crying my eyes out. I couldn’t tell him. One of the reasons I was crying was because during my nap I’d dreamed I had an alien baby growing inside me. It was the worst dream I’d ever had.

At times, I felt warm and cozy and loving thinking of what was growing inside me and then other times I felt estranged from it. I hated the feelings I was having. My emotions were all in a tangle.

John Wasper smelled like wood shavings. He’d been out in his workshop nearly all day and had refused to discuss the talk show when I brought it up. I’d planned to spend the day with him and the girls and to somehow try to make up for the embarrassment and hurt I’d caused him.

Instead, I’d listened to the drone of his sander all day. His grandfather, who’d been a furniture maker, left him a garage full of tools and the ability to turn wood into art. So, he buried himself deep in tung oil and beeswax and wood shavings anytime he didn’t want to deal with something. He was refinishing another cabinet for the kitchen as if his workshop was on fire. Like his life depended on it. Like it was the most important thing in the world right now. Like what I was doing wasn’t important. I was as insignificant as a rough edge on his precious wood which he’d just smooth off with sandpaper if he could and go right on. Well, I wasn’t that easy to smooth away.

Evidently what I was doing wasn’t as important as the bird’s nest the girls had found on the front porch early in the afternoon either. He pulled the ladder out of the garage, while I watched from behind the curtains in the den, and helped them put it back in the tree that hung over the porch. Then the three of them sat on the porch and studied his bird book. Their happy chatter could be heard all through the house. Like I really cared if they spotted a female Hummingbird and that her mate had a ruby throat or that they could both fly backwards. John Wasper and I had trouble just going forward.

“Please, will you stop crying,” he said, patting my shoulder awkwardly. I could feel his eyes on my back. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong,” I said, with my head still buried in the pillow, “is, I tell you at breakfast I am pregnant and you say, I am going out to work on the cabinet now. You disappear into that workshop of yours and I don’t see you for hours. I expected more from you. Just one kind word. Even that’s good, honey. But no. You don’t even say, honey, would you like to see the bird’s nest the girls found this afternoon. Oh no. I am not included,” I wailed, “not even in my own family.”

“You said you had a headache. I thought I’d be helping you if I stayed busy and kept the girls out of your hair. Besides what can I say about you being pregnant? I’m trying to deal with it. That’s all I can do. I didn’t want you to do it. You knew that. Now it’s done. I just don’t know what to do anymore, Vada Faith.”

“Like I want everyone out of my hair all the time,” I said, calming myself when I realized how upset he was. “I wanted to spend the day with you but now the day is gone.”

“So it’s gone,” he said. “We have the evening. Let’s not spoil it. Let’s go out to dinner. I’ll take a shower and we can go out and take the girls. We’ll have a quiet family dinner.”

“With a little celebration,” I said, beginning to cheer up. I rolled over on the bed. “For my pregnancy.”

“No, Vada Faith,” he said, through clenched teeth, “can’t you get it through your head I don’t want to celebrate this pregnancy. I want it over with. Your body belongs to those people for nine months. How can I get excited about that? It makes me sick. We’ll celebrate our own family being together and that’s all.”

“My body does not belong to them.” I sat up on the side of the bed to face him. “It belongs to me, Mister Smart Stuff. That remark was mean. You either take it back or I am not going out to dinner with you. I didn’t really want to celebrate being pregnant with this baby. I wanted to celebrate the fact that the Kilgores are finally going to get their baby. That’s all. Let’s forget them for now. I haven’t told them. I will, just not yet. Do you want to go with me when I give them the news?”

“No,” he said, standing up. “I don’t and I won’t take back what I said. Your body isn’t yours until this is over. You tell those people whenever you want. I want us to go out for dinner and pretend that things are normal. Pretend that you are not pregnant with this baby.”

“All right,” I said, standing up and sighing, “we can do that. It’s not just Mr. Kilgore’s baby.” I leaned close to him to make my point. “You act like I’m having it just for him. I’m not. It’s their baby. Not just his. It’s his and hers. Got it?”

“Yes. I’ve got it.” He put his arms around me and I put my head on his shoulder. It wasn’t my husband’s normal hug. It was distant. The kind of hug he reserved for his straitlaced Aunt Mildred or for his mother Louise who stood ramrod straight and accepted a hug but did not participate in it.

It wasn’t anywhere near the kind of hug John Wasper Waddell, star quarterback for the Shady Creek Cougars, gave to head cheerleader, Vada Faith Dunn, on prom night.

No. If I had to describe this hug I would call it mediocre. A word never before associated with him and his hugs. Everything about him was changing. Too rapidly for me to keep up. It was disturbing. I straightened the quilted bed pillows and went to get some ice for my puffy eyes. Somehow I’d expected to be walking on clouds when I became pregnant. Instead, I was lower than I’d ever been.

“What kind of person could have a child and give it away?” My sister’s words kept running through my head as I showered and dressed.

“Vada Faith,” my husband said, looking across at me as we sat at a candlelit table in The Steak and Lobster House, “you are so beautiful.”

“Stop teasing,” I said. His mood had lifted as we’d shared our small bathroom getting ready. I knew he’d noted my lace underwear. I was hoping he would concentrate on that and not on the fact I was pregnant. Not tonight anyway.

I couldn’t stop smiling. He always made me feel like a million dollars. I wore a new black dress with tiny straps on the shoulders. My hair was done in a softer style around my face. I’d splashed on some expensive perfume for good measure. I needed all the help I could get to maneuver us through the obstacle course I’d set us on.

He wore his good black dress pants and a new tie. His dark hair was slicked back. It was more like our anniversary or birthday than an ordinary dinner out.

“I wish the girls were here. They’d love these chicken fingers.” I dipped a piece of chicken in the honey sauce and put in into my mouth.

“You are so cute when you eat,” he said, leaning on the table watching me.

“Stop it,” I said, laughing at him. “Stop watching me.” I pushed the appetizer toward him. “Eat.”

“I’m glad Aunt Joy Ruth took the girls out for pizza,” he said, sipping on the sparkling water I’d convinced him to try. “I have you all to myself. I never do anymore. Since this thing, you know, I’m second in line.”

“Never,” I said, shocked, “you’re not second in my life. Ever.” I reached across the table and took his big hands in mine. “Don’t ever feel like that.” I looked into his beautiful eyes and a lump came into my throat. “No matter what, you’ll never ever be second,” I said. “Not with me. Not to anything. I love you more than life itself. I couldn’t survive without you.”

“You swear?” he asked, seriously.

“I swear.”

“I worry about us.” He kissed my hand. “What’s going to happen now? I feel like we’re getting covered over in stuff that is coming between us. It’s burying us alive. Burying our relationship. Burying our family. I know we agreed not to talk about this but it’s here on the table between us. I feel like we’re sharing our life with strangers and I don’t want them here. A hole is burned right through me because of it.”

“I understand. I do. It won’t be forever. It will only be for a short time. I promise. A very short time and then they’ll be gone and we’ll never have to think about them again.”

“Will you promise, Vada Faith? That it will be over soon?”

“I promise.” I put my hand over my heart and while it was there he placed his hand on mine.

“I can feel your heart. It’s beating so fast.” He had slipped his hand under mine. It felt warm through my thin dress.

“I’m nervous,” I giggled, feeling lighthearted for the first time in ages. “It’s as if we’re on our first date. I want to be with you more than with anyone else in the world, John Wasper.”

“It’s all I want,” he said. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Me too,” I said, overcome with love for him. I was beginning to feel good about us again. I could sense he felt the same.

Suddenly, his face fell, and he pulled his hand away.

I turned to follow his gaze. The couple we’d been discussing stood a few feet away talking to a waitress. My festive mood disintegrated.

“Hey,” Dottie said, waving as she headed to our table. Her long thin legs were clad in black satin pants. The satin shirt she wore opened to reveal a chain with clunky blue stones around her neck. Her husband trailed behind her, a drink from the bar in his hand. “How’re you all?” Dottie gushed.

My husband stood up. Roy put out his hand and my husband gave him a brief handshake.

“No need to stand,” Roy said. “You folks doing well this fine night?”

“Oh, dandy.” My husband fell back into his chair with a defeated look on his face.

“We’re fine,” I said, hoping to cover my disappointment and to make up for John Wasper’s curt tone.

“Great,” the man said, “just great.” He checked me over closely. Head to toe. More specifically he stared at my stomach.

“Roy,” his wife said, glaring at him, “please see if our table is ready.”

The man scanned the crowded room.

“You can sit here.” My husband indicated the two empty chairs at our table. His fingers played with the napkin he’d picked up. I could tell he was only being polite. I hoped they declined and the evening could be salvaged. Who was I kidding?

“You okay with that?” Roy smiled, already pulling out a chair for his wife.

Both of them seemed oblivious to the tension.

“Sure. Why not.” My husband nodded.

I wanted to smack him. It was hard enough dealing with him and the couple apart. I wasn’t sure I could handle them all at one table.

“My wife has an announcement to make,” John Wasper said, taking charge when not one single soul had asked him to. Especially not me. I could handle this on my own but he wasn’t about to let me. “We’ll need some drinks here,” he said to the waitress. What was happening to him? He was never one to drink before all this happened?