Vada Faith (22 page)

John Wasper came back inside after settling the girls on the swings. He stood in the doorway looking at me as I prepared a tray to take outside.

“Don’t say a word,” I said, seeing the hurt written on his face. “I’m not up to anymore criticism.”

I was feeling extremely beaten down. That morning I’d taken the hate letter off the refrigerator where I’d posted it and read over the words. Someone had written the meanest things and then had signed it from your friends in Shady Creek. Friends? Ha! Maybe that person was right. The surrogacy was causing my family great pain. Would they end up having to pay for what I’d done? I’d never thought about it but was I using my body as a baby machine as the letter suggested? I didn’t think so. Maybe I was the fool after all.

“Why did you do this to us,” John Wasper asked. “You didn’t have to do it so quickly. You could have learned more about it. We could have talked it over more.” He paced across the kitchen floor.

“Yes,” I said, slowly, “I should have taken my time and educated myself.” I got napkins from the cupboard feeling sick to my stomach. “I just didn’t.”

“I’m going to start remodeling the upstairs bedrooms. I have to have something to do besides think. I’ve been putting aside some money. We’ll move the furniture into the spare room up there.”

“All right,” I said, gently, sorry now that I had put Grandma Belle’s plaque in his workshop and said he should bloom where he was planted. Nothing was turning out the way I’d thought it would. I couldn’t look at him as I said, “I can’t help you move any furniture.” I began folding napkins. “I’m spotting.”

“You don’t need to move anything heavy. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” he asked.

“Because I figured you’d be glad.”

“I worry about you, you know. I want you to be okay. You’d better go on and see that doctor.” The words were the right ones but his voice had an edge. “Stay off your feet.”

“I will.” I wanted to believe he still cared. I sat down across from him.

“There’s something I have to ask you.” I played with one of the paper napkins, folding and refolding it. “It’s important to me,” I said.

“All right. What?”

“If I decided to keep this baby, what would you say?”

“I’d say no.” He looked away from me. “I’ve thought about it. I figured you might want to. I can’t do it. I’m sorry.” He was a million miles away instead of across the table.

“I don’t know about giving it to the Kilgores,” I said. “They’re unstable and less than what I thought they were.”

“Why didn’t you check them out, then, before you got involved? No. You go into this on blind faith. Just like you always do. Eyes shut tight. Don’t give a thought to us. Well, it’s a mess, I’ll agree. The girls don’t understand and that hurts me.” His big beautiful eyes were so sad. Now all his anger was gone. “I knew they wouldn’t and I sure as hell don’t either.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, picking up the tray. “I really am.” It was too little, too late. I knew that now.

“Yeah,” he said, opening the back door for me and then following me out. “I’m sorry too.”

“My ultrasound was fine,” I said to him a few nights later. I hadn’t bothered to show him the ultrasound picture as I knew he wasn’t interested. I was so upset when I’d heard the heart beat that first time and saw the tiny image, I nearly went into shock. I’d insisted Dr. Fine keep the appointment from Roy and Dottie. I wasn’t ready to share the moment.

John Wasper had been avoiding me by working overtime. Then, he was either working upstairs or in his shop. He had turned out some beautiful wood pieces and had taken them to the local flea market to sell. He ended up letting an oak table go for half price and selling a cherry table on time. He spent his spare time working on a set of little wooden houses the girls had been wanting.

“I’m glad about the ultrasound,” he said, stretching out on the clean sheets we’d just put on our bed. “You feeling better?”

“I’m fine,” I said, climbing into bed.

“So,” he said, “you think the Kilgores are unfit.”

“I do and I don’t think they’ll stay married after they get this baby. Not for a minute.”

He sat up and leaned on the back of the bed. “Why wouldn’t they stay married?”

“I don’t know. Just a feeling.”

He gave a long tired sigh.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I can’t sleep anymore. I haven’t slept a full night since you got involved in this mess.”

“I didn’t know you weren’t sleeping.”

“This whole thing is driving me crazy.”

“I love you,” I said, moving closer to him. “You still love me?”

“Sure,” he said, but his words were lukewarm. I kissed him.

I moved closer and put my hand on him.

He pulled away. “I can’t,” he said, finally.

“You can’t what? Make love to me?”

“No. Ever since you’ve been pregnant. It hasn’t felt, well, right.” He cleared his throat. “Now, uh,” he moved farther away, “I just can’t.”

“You mean,” I said, “you really can’t do anything?” It was incredulous. The one thing that had always been exactly right between us was now gone because of me.

“That’s right.” He sat up in bed quickly. “What if I can’t ever again?” He asked, distressed. “I told you this thing has me torn apart inside. Since you went and got inseminated.”

“Well, I can’t undo that,” I said, moving away and rearranging the sheets around me.

“I know.” He sighed. “We have to get through it. That’s all. Get through it. I just can’t seem to figure out how.”

“I haven’t committed adultery, you know.” I could feel my anger building. “That’s how you act. Like I’ve cheated on you or something. I don’t like the way you make me feel. I have not cheated on you.”

“I didn’t say you had. I just feel, I don’t know what I feel. Like you’ve been with someone else, I guess.”

“I haven’t been with someone else,” I said. “You know that. I’m true blue.”

“Sure,” he snapped, “true blue.”

“I am.”

“Then why weren’t you content to have my babies and only mine?” He turned away. “No. You have to go and have a baby for another man. A stranger. A weirdo.”

“Listen,” I said, “I thought we had this all worked out.”

“You had it worked out. I saw my mother today. She’s a nervous wreck over this. You giving away a baby. She said she never sees you or the girls anymore. You’re too wrapped up in this weird couple and yourself.”

“I am not!” I snapped. “Your mother’s nerves are tore up over this! What about mine? I do not count here. I can see that. It’s back to sympathizing with Louise. I didn’t marry you to have her to tell me what to do or your big brother, Bruiser, who by the way is all over my sister, which I do not appreciate.”

“Maybe your sister has more sense than you. Like maybe she knows how to be loyal to her man.”

“Well, heaven help her if Bruiser Waddell is her man.” I deliberately steered away from the word loyal.

“There’s nothing wrong with my brother.”

“Nothing except his head is screwed on backwards.”

“Don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself and to us?”

“What I’m doing?” Thunder sounded in the distance. Then rain started pounding against the house.

“This project of yours is starting to unravel,” he said, “and you want to blame everyone in the world but yourself.”

“I do not,” I said, getting out of bed to close our window. As I made my way through the semi darkness a flash of lightening lit up our room. Another clash of thunder sent me hurrying to pull the window down.

“Mommy?” Hope Renee was standing in the doorway.

“What is it, sweetie?” I asked, going over to kneel down by her side. “What’s wrong?”

“You gave Charity away,” she rubbed her eyes and put her thumb in her mouth, “you gave her to bad people. We couldn’t get her back and it was storming.”

“No, honey,” I said, smoothing her blond curls away from her face, “we didn’t give Charity away. Come on, I’ll show you,” I said as I led her down the hallway. “You had a bad dream and we are having a storm. See the bright lights outside. Remember what I told you about storms and about thunder and lightening. How we need the rain for the flowers and trees to grow.”

“Yes,” she said, gripping my hand tightly as we walked into the bedroom she shared with her sister. A teddy bear night light glowed between their beds.

“There.” I pointed to Charity. “See. Your sister is sound asleep.” I pulled the sheet down so she could see.

“Here,” I said, patting the bed, “you climb in with Charity.”

“I would never give you or your sister away,” I said, hugging her as she climbed into her sister’s bed. “Never.”

“Never?” she asked, settling down in bed beside her sister.

“Never.” I kissed her cheek. “I love you a bunch.”

As I made my way back to my own bed, I made a decision. I knew exactly what I had to do to make things right.

For a split second my burden lightened.

Then, I realized John Wasper would not be happy with my decision. However, it was the only decision I could make and live with myself.

“You going to the homecoming football game, Vada Faith?” Marge Randolph asked. It was the first time she’d been in for a while. Not since I’d spoken to her about her grandson, Ryan.

“Not tonight,” I said, picking up a pink curler from the bin, “I’m too tired for football.” This was the busiest day we’d had in ages and every customer wanted the works. “We’re open ’til 8,” I said. “After that I’m headed home.”

“You should support the home team,” she said, sounding miffed. “My grandson, Rick, plays varsity. Ryan’s brother.” She sniffed.

“I know,” I said. “I do support them. I buy candy and calendars. I ordered greeting cards from Rick just last week.” I held up a piece of her hair and put a roller around it. I wound the last piece of her hair on curler. “What more do they expect?”

“They need us to come out and cheer ’em on, that’s what. It’s homecoming, girl. Where’s your school spirit?”

“I’m not in the mood,” I said. She didn’t have to tell me about Shady Creek’s homecoming. I knew all about it. Had since I was a kid. I’d experienced it firsthand when John Wasper and I were high school seniors. He was the football hero and I was the homecoming queen. How could I forget? It wasn’t the same now. I had bigger worries than what to wear on the homecoming float.

I took the plastic cape from her shoulders and steered her over to an empty dryer chair. “How about some coffee?” I asked. “It’s fresh.” She nodded and I went to get it.

“If I was going to use any energy tonight,” I said to her, as I pulled the dryer down over her head, “it would be to clean my oven.”

The hum of the dryer prevented her from commenting though she looked like she might before she settled back and opened a magazine. She’d rubbed me the wrong way and though it was true, my oven could use a cleaning, I wouldn’t be cleaning it tonight. No, tonight, as tired as I was, I had something important to do and I didn’t want anyone, not even my sister, to know what.

“You taking the girls to the homecoming picnic tomorrow?” Joy Ruth asked as I went to collect another customer. She dabbed at Alberta’s gray hair with hair color. “The pumpkin patch is sponsoring a hay ride.”

“Yes,” I said, feeling my spirits rise in spite of myself. The annual celebration on Saturday on the town square was always fun. “The girls can’t wait. Of course, John Wasper has to work.” I shook my head in dismay. “He loves the picnic. I hope he gets off early and can make it. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day.”

I loved fall in Shady Creek. Lately, I walked everywhere I went. The air was beginning to crisp up and leaves were starting to trail down and cover the sidewalks in City Park. I’d been taking that route to work every morning and enjoying the gardens.

As I walked, I mulled over my verbal agreement with the couple and all my options. They were clear cut. I’d made up my mind. Now it was time for action.

Roy Kilgore was due back in town today from a business trip and I planned to see him after work. His wife was caught up in the local La Leche group and would be at a meeting. She’d called last night with the details of another shopping trip for the baby. Her words were slurred and I knew she was drinking more with her husband out of town. Her drinking was becoming increasingly worse and it only added to my growing list of concerns.

She called daily now to tell me what else she’d bought for the baby. I couldn’t believe there were any baby things left in the whole state to buy. It amazed me. How was one little baby going to use so much stuff? Some of her friends were having another shower in a few weeks. The baby wasn’t even due for months.

“When are you going to start wearing the new maternity clothes?” Joy Ruth asked. She’d just finished with Alberta and was pocketing a hefty tip.

I was sitting in a dryer chair, ignoring my sister, taking a much needed break.

“So?” She started sweeping wads of Alberta’s gray hair into a dust pan.

I couldn’t put my finger on it but something was up with my sister. She wasn’t acting right. It was almost as though she wanted to tell me something but was afraid to. She was also being kind which was unusual for her. We both did our share of back stabbing.

“I have gained some weight,” I said, looking down at myself. My jeans would no longer snap and I was wearing oversized shirts to work instead of the fitted ones that tucked in. Then I’d put a smock over that. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable in my clothes. I’d already gone up a cup size in my bra which didn’t go without notice from John Wasper. He didn’t say one word. Just stared at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Though he hated this pregnancy, I knew he loved seeing me pregnant. He’d never admit that either, especially now.

“You have some really cute maternity clothes,” she persisted. “Some don’t even look maternity. You could get away with wearing them.” She smiled, showing her dimples. “I would.”

“You would?” I studied her face to see where this was leading. She hadn’t been this kind to me in ages.

I hadn’t worn the new clothes because I didn’t want to hear her complain about my surrogacy. Maybe she’d accepted it. “I might wear one of the new outfits to the homecoming picnic tomorrow.”