Vada Faith (29 page)

“I like Albert,” I said, and lifted my cup in the air. “Here’s to Albert.” I took a sip and giggled.

“What’re you drinking, anyway?” she asked, sitting up in the lawn chair and slipping her feet into her gold flats. “You girls are awfully giddy.”

“Cider. Same as you,” I said, getting up from my chair. “I’m going inside to get something bubbly. We’ll drink a toast to Joy Ruth and Bruiser and to you and Albert.”

Inside, I popped the top on a bottle of sparkling grape juice. I poured three crystal goblets half full of the clear liquid. As I turned toward the door balancing the tray in front of me I had a sharp pain in my abdomen.

The next instant I was on the floor, my feet twisted in the apple rug my husband hated. I must have screamed because mama shot through the back door and leaned over me, her face white.

“What on earth.” She glanced around at the shattered glasses and liquid dripping down the kitchen wall.

“Are you okay, honey?” She asked, helping me up.

“I think so.” I leaned on her and hobbled to a chair.

“Joy Ruth!” She called, through the open door.

“What the heck.” My sister’s eyes swept over the mess in the kitchen as she banged inside.

“Get a broom and sweep up this mess,” Mama said, taking charge. “We don’t need someone getting cut.” She sat down next to me and reached for my hand. “You sure you’re okay, honey?”

“I don’t know.” I felt light headed and then my body released a gush of fluid like a heavy period. Except I wasn’t supposed to be having a period. Not for a long time yet. “Something’s wrong,” I said, trying to stand. My knees buckled.

“Oh, no!” I saw the dark stain creeping down my white pants.

“Call 911 Joy Ruth,” mama said. “Hurry!”

The next thing I knew I was in the emergency vehicle with several medics standing over me. Bruiser knelt beside me holding my hand. His face was as white as the sheet covering me. “You’re going to be all right, you hear me,” he said, “don’t you worry.”

I lost consciousness as one of the medics said, “Check her blood pressure again.”

I came to in the emergency room. It was easily recognizable from the many times I’d been there when I was growing up. I’d been one to fall out of trees and off bikes. How I wished that were the case now.

“John Wasper’s on his way,” my sister said, standing beside my bed. Behind her mama nodded. I could see tears in her eyes. “Bruiser said to tell you he’d be back after he gets off work. He was upset.”

“He’s okay,” I said. I struggled to lift myself up on my elbows. “Why’re you all looking so glum?” I said. “I’m okay.” I turned to the nurse who adjusted the IV bag. “I am okay?”

“Dr. Fine will be here any minute,” she said. “We’ll know more then. You need to rest.”

“I’m going home.” I moved to the edge of the bed. “I’ll call the doctor later.” I tried to get up but couldn’t lift my legs they were so heavy. “I guess I’ll stay,” I said, settling back down on the pillow. “Until I feel better.”

“Good idea,” my sister said. She smiled for the first time since we’d arrived at the hospital.

“Get some coffee, mama,” I said. She looked sick. “I’m okay.”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I will. The machine is just down the hall.” She came over and kissed my cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

“You should have left mama home,” I said to Joy Ruth. “You know how upset she gets.”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep her home,” she said, pacing around my bed. “You know her. She talks this independent stuff. I’m independent. You’re independent. Then something happens and we’re as connected as pearls on a string. Each knotted to the other.”

“I know,” I said, still feeling shaky. “Do you think I’ll lose my baby, Joy Ruth?”

“I don’t know. Nobody’s said anything. The nurse said you’ve stopped bleeding.” She picked at a fingernail. “That’s a good sign. Isn’t it?” She looked at me with hope in her eyes.

“Yes,” I said, trying to reassure her, “it is.” I didn’t really know. I settled back on the pillow. “Where are the girls?” The last I remembered they were playing on the swings.

“Louise has them,” she said. “She was there before the medics came. She was able to take them without them knowing anything was wrong.”

“Good.” I closed my eyes trying to shut out the pain. I didn’t want Joy Ruth to know I was having cramps. Really bad cramps. My back felt like it was breaking in two.

If I lost this baby how on earth would I explain it to the girls? How could I go on with my own life?

Then I drifted into a drug induced sleep until John Wasper lifted my hand from the sheet where it lay cold and unmoving. It didn’t even feel like my hand.

“Vada Faith,” he said, “are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” I said, still drifting along on the medication.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His face was lined with worry. “I shouldn’t have asked you to get an abortion,” he said. “I probably jinxed your pregnancy.”

“No,” I said, weakly, “you didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I never should have gotten involved with Roy and Dottie Kilgore. I didn’t know what I was getting into. Like you said. I jump into things with my eyes shut.”

“If anything happens to you,” he said, tears in his eyes, “I’ll shoot myself. I’ll take my gun and shoot myself.”

“Nothing’s happening to me. I’m losing the baby is all.”

“I never wanted you to lose it.” He looked miserable. “That’s a lie,” he said. “I did want you to lose it and if you do it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” Tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Something was wrong all along. I knew it. I just didn’t want to face it.”

“You don’t know that,” he said.

“Yes,” I said, “I do know it. This whole thing was doomed from the start, even this little baby knew it.”

My sister peered around the door of the cubicle. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” I said, motioning to her.

“Well now,” Dr. Fine said, as he strode in right behind her, all businesslike.

“Let’s see what’s going on here.” He started to pull down the sheet. “If you’ll excuse us,” he said turning to John Wasper and Joy Ruth, “I’d like to examine Vada Faith and then we’ll have some answers.”

After being admitted to the hospital for observation, I sent everyone home. Now alone in my room, I had plenty of time to think. Word had spread quickly about my condition and the waiting room had filled with relatives and friends. Bruiser was reluctant to leave until I assured him I was fine. John Wasper was still out in the lobby drinking coffee. Just knowing he was near made me feel better somehow. Safer.

I stared at the bright yellow walls decorated with a border of storks carrying babies in their beaks. It was feeding time in the nursery and several babies were letting it be known that they were hungry.

Strange, when your baby is about to die they put you on a floor where there are all these live babies. There was already enough hurt in my heart. I didn’t need to see all those new mothers being wheeled down the hallway with babies in their arms.

I could see several visitors across the hall chatting as they stood at the nursery window gazing in at a dozen pink and blue bundles.

New babies were coming into this world every few minutes while my own baby’s life was slowly ebbing away. I didn’t need Dr. Fine to confirm it.

John Wasper came in and sat on the bed patting my arm. He finally cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Vada Faith, for not doing my part.”

“You didn’t have a part,” I said, shaking my head, a bit dazed from the pain medication. “That was the problem.”

“Maybe I should have stopped you. I should have taken on more responsibility. You wouldn’t have wanted that new house out in Crystal Springs maybe if I’d speeded up the repairs on the old house. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d done things different.” He sighed.

“This wasn’t about house repairs,” I said, “or anything you did. It was about me. I had this hunger, this longing all my life to be somebody important. I thought this was my chance. I can’t really explain it. I was wrong to do this. You tried to tell me. So did Joy Ruth. I wouldn’t listen. I made a mess of us.” My tongue was thick now and the words felt heavy in my mouth.

“Bruiser said when a marriage ends it’s fifty-fifty.”

I wanted to close my eyes except he was leaning close and I didn’t want to miss anything he said. Was he talking about our marriage ending?

“Bruiser said Missy Sue left him because she objected to sleeping with him, a bottle of Bud Lite, and the sports channel on their honeymoon.”

Any other time, that would have made me laugh.

Now nothing was humorous. Not even the silly Cathy cartoon my sister had brought in earlier. A disheveled Cathy was on the phone with work, saying, ‘I won’t be in today. My hair won’t start.’ I used to laugh at Cathy. Not this time. It was all I could do to keep from crying. Even Cathy’s crazy hair made me sad.

We sat there for a time with me nodding off and him with his head in his hands.

He finally raised his head and said, “I told you about that stupid rug. You should have put it in the trash as I asked you to.”

“The fall on that rug didn’t hurt me.” I was fully awake and feeling worse.

He stared down at his hands and said, “The Kilgores are downstairs.” He stood up. “You want to see them?”

“I don’t know.”

He shrugged. “He is torn up over this. He seems genuinely upset. His wife’s a little weird.”

“Send them up for just a minute.”

“You know,” he said, turning to me, “I still love you. I never stopped.” He shook his head.

“I know,” I said, “I love you too.” I could see the tired lines around his eyes. “Will you come home, please?” I could hear the pleading in my voice.

“No,” he said, wearily, shaking his head. “I can’t. Not now.”

“Does this have something to do with Sandy Dooley?”

“No, it doesn’t.” Yet he looked uncomfortable.

“I saw you together. In the parking lot at work.”

“This has to do with us, Vada Faith,” he said, ignoring my comment. “That’s all it has to do with. Just us.”

“The girls miss you,” I said, which was true. I knew it wasn’t fair to use them but it was all I could offer.

“I miss them too,” he said. “I just can’t come home right now.”

“Fine,” I said, breaking apart inside. “Suit yourself.”

“I’ll get the Kilgores.” He walked out as a nurse came in with medication, his footsteps heavy going down the hallway.

A serious Roy Kilgore stuck his head around the door a few minutes later as the nurse was leaving.

“Vada Faith,” he said, “how are you feeling?”

“All right,” I said, looking past him. “Where’s Dottie?”

“I asked her to wait outside a minute.” He came over to me.

“I don’t want you to lose the baby,” he said, his voice catching. He had tears in his eyes. “I love it, you know.”

“I know,” I said, letting him take my cold hand from the sheet and hold it in his warm one. I was floating on a cloud of medication.

“I wish things had been different.” He sighed. “I know now they can’t be.”

“No,” I said. “They can’t be.” I struggled to keep my eyes open.

“I do care about you,” he said, “but you were right. You have your family and me and Dottie, well, we aren’t doing too hot. I’d have loved the baby though. I would have loved it.”

I fought the medication that threatened to put me back to sleep. “I know.”

“Vada Faith,” Dottie stood in the doorway. Her usually cheerful voice was flat as the Coke my husband had brought me earlier from the cafeteria.

For once she wasn’t made up like a circus act. She wore no make-up and had on jeans and a plain white shirt. It was almost midnight. She stood at the foot of the bed. Misery covered every inch of her face. “You okay?” She asked.

I tried to focus on the older woman’s face. “I’m okay. It’s the baby who isn’t.”

“The doctor said we’ll have to wait and see.” Her voice held an argument as she rubbed her hands together. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“I know what the doctor said.” I struggled to sit up. “I know what I know. I’m losing my baby.”

“Will you change your mind and give us this baby? It’s ours really.” She was beside me now and I wanted to reach out and slap her.

“There isn’t going to be a baby,” I said, my voice filled with fury. “Why won’t anyone believe me, and we’re all to blame.” I rolled onto the far side of the hospital bed and cried. “Every one of us is to blame,” I said between sobs. “We’ve done this precious baby an injustice. Me bringing it into the world only to give it away and you wanting to buy it.”

“Is it a sin to want a child so bad?” She came close and gripped the bed rail. “Well, is it?”

She leaned over me and I buried my head deeper in the flannel blanket.

“I’ve stayed awake all night thinking of schemes to get a baby.” Her words hung suspended in the air over me.

I managed to sit up straighter, wiping my face with the sheet. “Surrogacy was wrong for me, Dottie,” I said. “All wrong.”

“It was wrong for us as well,” Roy spoke softly beside me.

“Well, it wasn’t wrong for me.” Dottie’s voice was shrill and she started pacing around the room.

“It’s time for us to go.” Roy stood, gesturing for his wife. “We’ll check back tomorrow. You take care of yourself.” He took his wife’s arm and led her out of the room.

As I watched them disappear, I hoped never to see them again.

When I lost my baby, I was by myself and that was the way I wanted it. To be alone with my baby when it left my body. For it was my baby. Not Roy Kilgore’s baby. Not Dottie’s. Not John Wasper’s. Just mine. That little baby belonged to me from the start.

I was alone in my pain as well. At 2 a.m. when I felt the gushing start deep inside my body, there wasn’t anyone around. John Wasper had gone for another cup of coffee.

I was in more pain as the night wore on and he knew it. He hated feeling useless. There was nothing anyone could do. There was no use calling the nurses from the station down the hall either. It was too late. Everything was too late.

My precious baby was gone. It left my body with such speed it scared me. I gripped the bed and let it go. The most horrible pain of all wasn’t inside my empty womb but deep inside my heart. It was ripped in two.