Vada Faith (18 page)

I turned to follow my sister who was moving away from Dottie.

Suddenly I felt lightheaded and sank into a big padded rocking chair that stood by one of the cribs. “I’ll be right here when you two are ready to go.” A rack of white baptismal dresses had caught their attention and they were pulling one after the other out to examine.

I started feeling better after a minute or two. I really wanted to go but they were pawing through baby clothes as if they didn’t have another thing to do. My sister trotted behind the older woman from one display to another. She would look back at me and roll her eyes every few steps.

I’d have to hear all about this later. Jeez. Why couldn’t she have stayed home for once in her life and let me be my own person? Let me have a little fun. Yet, I had to admit this wasn’t turning out to be much fun.

When we finally left the store my sister carried a baby swing, I had an exersaucer, and Dottie carried a baby carrier.

After stowing the stuff in her car, we headed back into the mall.

“I think we should get something to eat. I’m starving.” My sister was scanning the place for a restaurant.

“Well, I’m not. I want to shop for clothes. You go ahead and eat. We’ll catch up with you later.” I headed toward the maternity store, hoping to feel better once I got inside.

“Forget it.” My sister hustled to catch up with me. “I’m coming with you.”

“I’m hungry too. Aren’t there any good restaurants in this town?” Dottie was scanning the mall, looking for a suitable restaurant.

“Let’s see what’s in here first.” I hurried ahead, checking out the maternity dresses on display in the shop window.

“Oh, all right.”

I could tell the woman was disappointed. I didn’t care. She’d had her way long enough.

Inside the shop, I went straight to the evening dresses. Something totally impractical. It was where I was always drawn when I was pregnant. I wanted to look special. Being pregnant always made me feel magical. Right now, all I was feeling was nauseous, but I was sure the magic would soon kick in.

“Why do you want a cocktail dress?” My sister fingered the midnight blue dress I was holding up to myself. In the mirror I looked like a queen with this sequined dress draped around me.

“Oh, this is perfect.” I carried it into the fitting room with her tailing me.

“I’ve never been able to afford anything like this before. Pregnant or not.”

“What do you think?” I twirled around in front of the mirror in the blue dress. Dottie was rummaging through some silk maternity slacks nearby.

“Get it,” she snapped, barely glancing up. I was shocked into silence. What was wrong with her?

“If it’ll make you happy, buy it.” She raised her head slightly and slipped on a pair of glasses. Her voice was a little softer. “My husband said buy whatever will make our girl happy. If that’s it, then get it.”

The woman was envious of me, I realized, as she turned away. Of course she would be. I must be dense. I carried her husband’s child. It had never occurred to me how awful she must be feeling. I vowed to be more understanding and then it occurred to me that what she was feeling might be exactly what John Wasper was feeling too. My stomach churned.

“Just start a pile over here,” she said, curtly, pointing to the counter where a salesclerk was ringing up a sale.

“How about some stretch pants?” She held up a pair of green pants. “You can’t get enough stretch pants. Especially if you’re pregnant.” She sounded as if she knew that personally.

“They have seven colors,” she said. “Here. Take one of each.” She handed me the slacks. “These are size six.”

The shopping part was easier than I’d expected. It was becoming the only easy part of the whole thing.

“Vada Faith,” my sister poked her head through a rack of nightgowns. “Come and look at the nighties!”

“Those are too cute.” I went around to where she stood, holding up two nighties for me to see. “Not the one with the feathers, you goof ball. No feathers. I’m pregnant. Why do I need feathers?” I giggled.

“I’ll bet John Wasper would like a little feathers every now and then.”

“Lower your voice,” I said, under my breath, “And don’t pick up anything with feathers. Look.” I pulled a teal satin nightgown from the rack where I stood.

“This is perfect. I’ll take it.” I placed the nightgown on the counter as I made my way through the lingerie department. I wasn’t sure I wanted Dottie watching me pick out things I would wear in the privacy of my own bedroom. In front of my own husband. I wasn’t sure she should have come with us.

“Hello girls.” Roy Kilgore’s voice came from behind me. Smooth as silk. There he was. Close enough to touch.

How long had he been standing there in back of the lingerie section while we sorted through the undergarments?

“Hi.” My face was on fire. I had a handful of maternity bras and across the aisle my sister was waving a sheer black nightie at me.

“Roy?” His wife turned and raised an eyebrow. “What on earth are you doing here?” She was not happy to see him.

“Just wanted to make sure my darlings are having a good time.” His southern accent was thicker than molasses. As he pulled out his wallet he grinned like he’d won the lottery. “And to make sure you have enough money, sweetheart.”

In a way, he had won the lottery and I was carrying his loot inside me. “I have my Visa,” Dottie said curtly. “What do I need cash for?”

“Now, sweetie. Money flies when you girls go shopping. It’s good to have a little cash. Here.” He handed his wife a roll of money. “Vada Faith, honey, this is for you.” He held some bills toward me.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t Mr. Kilgore.”

“Sure you can.” He shoved the money closer. “Now, remember. It’s Roy. Call me Roy.”

“Roy.” I backed away. “Thank you, anyway.”

“Please. I want to do this.”

I looked at his hurt face. Then I glanced over at my sister. Her expression was blank. “All right.” I took the money from him and stuck it in my purse. “Thanks.” I moved away from the rack where he stood.

“Now sweetheart, you take the girls out for lunch on me. Have a good time yourself, you hear? Get some perfume or something.”

“That was nice of your husband,” I said to Dottie when he’d gone.

“Yes, he can be nice. He can be many things.” She sniffed. “Now for tops,” she said, putting her glasses back on. “How many tops do you need?”

The last thing I heard as I started to go down was her saying, “Tops,” from somewhere far away.

I came to on the sofa in the lounge of Mother-to-Be.

“What happened?” I asked as my sister leaned over me. “My head hurts.” I tried to sit up.

“You hit your head when you fell.” Her face was full of concern as she touched my face. “Maybe you have a fever?”

“Here.” The store manager handed me a glass of water.

I took a sip. My head was pounding. “I guess I should have eaten breakfast this morning but I was excited and in a hurry.”

“You have to eat, Vada Faith,” Dottie said sternly. “For my baby’s health. You’d better start listening, do you hear.” She pointed a finger at me. “Promise me you won’t do this again. It’s foolish not to eat. My baby needs nourishment.”

“I know. I was running late and just didn’t.” I was still feeling sick and it irritated me that she wanted to monitor my every move.

“I’ve arranged for the new clothes to be sent.” The older woman gathered up my purse. “Now let’s go get some food in you. Is there somewhere we can go and get a drink? You’d like a drink, wouldn’t you?” She looked at my sister. “My treat.”

“Don’t touch the stuff myself,” Joy Ruth said, and steered us out of the store and into the mall cafeteria which was crowded. “This place will have to do.”

“You sit down,” Dottie said, pulling out a chair for me. “We’ll go through the line.”

She came marching back shortly and put a tray of food in front of me. “I don’t know why people bring children in here.” She wiped at a wet spot on her skirt. “That kid over there dropped her juice on me.” I looked up to see a little girl hide her face in her mother’s skirt. “Honestly,” Dottie complained, “I think she did it on purpose.”

“Accidents happen. This is a family restaurant.”

She gave me a cool look so I didn’t say anything more.

I wasn’t up to a confrontation with anyone. I was too sick.

I could only swallow a few bites of the chicken she had piled on my plate. I moved the potatoes and vegetables around until she was satisfied that I’d eaten enough to sustain her baby.

At home I sat down and put my feet up. The house was quiet with everyone gone and it was cool. I felt so sick I wanted to die. I didn’t remember feeling this sick with the girls but as I drifted off to sleep, I realized I’d never been pregnant with a stranger’s baby.

“Vada Faith, Mr. Kilgore’s been arrested!” Joy Ruth came charging through the back door.

I was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. I’d slept all afternoon after our shopping trip. It was nearly dark outside now. I was too tired to look up.

“Hell-o!” She rushed past me, turning on the television in the living room. “Now let’s go to Maddie Magill,” Barry Carruthers voice shot from the TV. “She’s on special assignment over at the Civic Club.”

I dragged myself into the next room.

“There was a news bulletin earlier,” my sister said, sitting down on the floor. “Just wait. It’ll be back on. Jeez, news people. Hurry up already.”

“Thanks, Barry!” Maddie Magill said from the front lawn of the Civic Club. “As you know, we are celebrating the life of rock legend Elvis Presley this week.” She looked over her shoulder. “Just look at the crowd we’ve got over here.” The people behind Maddie cheered. “These fans are awaiting the arrival of Elvis Rodriquez. He’s come here from Mississippi to entertain us.”

“There’s mama!” I pointed to a blurry woman with a clump of white flowers pinned in her hair. “She’s acting like a teen ager over an Elvis impersonator.” In an instant she disappeared in the swirling crowd of women.

“You sure it was her? She loves Elvis but that’s a bit much.”

“It was her all right. If you haven’t noticed, she stands out.”

“Elvis! Elvis!” The crowd chanted and the camera zoomed in on a man in a tight white suit. He leaped onto the sidewalk from a yellow school bus and burst into song. “Don’t be cruel - to a heart that’s true,” he wiggled his hips. “I don’t want no other love, baby, it’s just you I’m a thinkin’ of!”

Mama was suddenly in front of the camera again jumping up and down, screaming like a ten-year old girl. The daisies pinned in her hair were bouncing up and down. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Go girl.” My twin dropped to her knees and swayed to the music. “Look, isn’t that Dottie?” She stopped swaying and pointed at the screen. For an instant the woman’s face appeared on the screen and then the camera panned the crowd. “That woman is like a case of the itch.” She sighed. “You can’t get rid of her and scratching doesn’t help.”

“What’s she doing there, I wonder? Why would she want to see him? He’s not even very good.”

“She’s an Elvis fan, honey.” She rolled her eyes. “You know his fans are diehards. Just like Mama.” She pulled herself up from the floor. “Besides it’s an advantage for the woman. Makes her a little more normal. This infatuation sounds good after that nipple manipulation thing.”

“Look. There she is again. She’s waving at that singer.” She wore a wide brimmed hat that covered most of her face. It could have come from my mother’s own collection. Jackie Kennedy sunglasses completed her attire. I’d still know her anywhere with her Barbie doll looks.

“You think she knows him? Didn’t Maddie say he was from Mississippi?”

“I don’t know. Who knows? He’s waving at all the women.” Joy Ruth smoothed her shirt down over the navy shorts she wore. She’d lost interest in the concert. “Vada Faith, aren’t you worried. I told you Mr. Kilgore has been arrested. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Elvis, are those mutton chops real?” The camera zoomed in close to the singer. He was one good looking guy. As Maddie Magill held the mike to his face he mopped his brow with a white towel.

“Sure are, ma’am.” He threw the towel at the crowd and they went wild again. “As real as I am.” In a slurred voice with his lip slightly raised, he started crooning, “Are you lonesome tonight?”

“That’s it for the celebration here at the Civic Club,” Maddie said, holding one hand over her ear and talking into the mike as she walked away, “and as you can see we’ve got a crowd worthy of a true king. Elvis will perform throughout the evening. Come on down folks and join in the celebration. Now, back to Barry at the station.”

“Thanks, Maddie. For those of you who missed the news bulletin, local resident Roy Kilgore, owner and operator of Kilgore’s Home Improvement Company, was picked up by local police for questioning regarding charges brought by several of his former employees.”

As the tape rolled, Roy Kilgore strode down the sidewalk of his beautiful country home. Beside him walked the county sheriff.

“Mr. Kilgore, are you being charged today?” The young reporter stuck the microphone through the car window into the man’s face as he climbed into the back seat of the cruiser.

“No. I’m going voluntarily.” He held up both hands. “See. No cuffs. This is only for questioning. That’s all.” Gone was his soft southern drawl. In its place was this hard, gritty voice. “I want to get this thing settled,” his eyes narrowed as he spoke, “and get these guys off my back and off my front porch.”

“That’s it for now on this case,” the young reporter said as the car rolled away, “but we’ll keep you posted. Now back to you at the station.”

“Thanks, Donny,” Barry Carruthers said with his big false smile. “Now let’s go to the weather.”

“You might want to leave that on,” Joy Ruth said as I clicked the TV off. “They might give more news on Roy Kilgore.”

“I don’t care. I’m too tired to watch.”

“You do look awful.” She looked closely at me for the first time since she’d stormed into the house. “Are you okay, Vada Faith?”

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Why not take tomorrow off.”

“Can’t. I’m booked. I’ll rest this week end.