“How good to meet you. You are a daughter?”
Miyako ducked her head with a shy smile.
Dottie couldn’t think what else to say, and was relieved when Al plunged in. “Mrs. Shoko, we need milk, but we need help at our house, too.”
“You need…?”
Miyako muttered something to her mother in Japanese, and Mrs. Shoko turned back to Al and Dottie.
“Need people?”
“Uh, yes. One people—one person.” Al set his cup down and held his arms like a cradle. “New baby comes. You know Jeffy, right?”
Mrs. Shoko giggled. “Um…Mr. Sweet Boy.”
“Jeffy has a baby sister, too.” Al held up one finger, then a second. “Jeffy and Joy.”
Mrs. Shoko nodded.
“But soon his mother will have another baby, and she is sick. One, two, three.” He rubbed his abdomen and held up another finger. “And I…” He turned toward Dottie. “I must go back home…travel far.”
Mrs. Shoko’s brows met. She turned to Miyako for explanation and nodded. “Three? Three sweet ones?”
“Yes. But in March, I must go on the train, so Dottie needs someone to watch Jeffy—maybe two hours in the morning and two more in the afternoon, until his father—you know Dennis? Until he comes home from work.”
“Dennis…um. Cora sick? Wifedot need three babies…need…?”
Miyako spent an intense two minutes conversing with her mother, and held out her palms. “Little boy, Jeffy—so busy, very happy. You need watcher—every day?”
Al nodded. “Yes, every day. For four hours altogether.”
Mrs. Shoko held up four fingers. “This much?” The two women conferred again, and her daughter nodded. “You not worry. We watch.”
Dottie held her breath. How could she know for sure Mrs. Shoko understood? “Both of you?”
Miyako held up two fingers. “We come ten o’clock and three o’clock, March. Work in fields early. We take Jeffy play—see goats. Make him tired for nap.”
Her smile reassured Dottie this might work. But what if they…how could she trust that they would keep a close enough watch on him?
As if she understood Dottie’s reservations, Mrs. Shoko tapped Miyako, who left and returned with a framed photo—a young mother with a baby and a fine-boned boy on his father’s lap. Mrs. Shoko composed her face.
“My sweet ones. Tokyo.” She swiped at her eyes.
Miyako held the picture to her chest. “After camp, my brother say never trust government again. Take babies home.” She gestured toward the Pacific. “Mother’s heart broken—she want to watch Jeffy. She love.”
Dottie set her cup down and put an arm around Mrs. Shoko. “I’m so sorry about your grandchildren.”
Al and Dottie communicated without words. Another grandmother—a very lonely one—exactly what they needed.
****
A thread of moonlight touched the shiny spot on Dottie’s forehead where she brushed her wave back. Even at night, when he could see only the outline of her features, he marveled at how pretty she was.
“Oh no.” Her groan startled him.
“What is it?”
“I forgot to put that chicken in the Frigidaire. I was being organized, getting it in the roaster for morning, but I think I left it in the sink.”
“I’ll go put it away.” Al grabbed his robe and walked barefoot across the cool grass. In this peaceful countryside, a person would never know those twinkles in the distance signaled the great city of San Diego. He tried the back screen door—strange. Dennis usually locked it at night.
In the darkness, he judged the distance to the sink and hit it pretty close. He felt around with his hand, but no roaster. To be sure, he eased open the Frigidaire door, and sure enough, the blue enamelware roasting pan sat on the middle shelf. A floorboard creaked as he crossed the kitchen, and a low voice came from the living room.
“Who’s there?”
Like a thief caught in the act, Al peered around the doorframe. Dennis held Joy in the crook of his left arm and Jeffy over his right shoulder. “It’s just me. Dottie remembered the chicken—you must’ve put it away.”
“Yeah, about the time Jeffy woke up. Didn’t want them to keep Cora from sleeping, so…”
Al sank onto a nearby chair. “Looks like you couldn’t get up if you tried.”
Dennis grinned. “I’ve been sleeping with them, so everybody’s happy.”
“You must be exhausted, with such early mornings.”
“We’re working way up in Thousand Oaks this week—otherwise, I go closer to seven.”
“But you work till six—that’s a long day, Son.”
“Maybe, but we pulled lots longer ones aboard ship.”
“Um. I remember those days—never so glad to get onto solid ground.”
“Navy?”
“No, infantry, but back and forth across the Atlantic was enough ship life for me. You want me to take one of them so you can get up?”
“No, thanks. This is really the best, all alone with them, and Cora sleeping. After we married, I shipped out again. Through the last two years of the war, I dreamed about us having a family. Now my dream’s come true.”
“And soon, you’ll have another.”
“Yeah.” Dennis sighed. “I hope if we ever have a fourth, he waits a few years, for Cora’s sake.”
Out in the yard, the wind sent something spinning. “Thank the good Lord for Dottie trying that goat milk.”
“Sure hope Cora gets her strength up. I’m—” The younger man’s voice broke.
Finally, Al broke the silence. “You awful worried about her?”
“I couldn’t bear it if anything…”
“No.”
“You and Dottie have been so good. Before you came, we…” He sighed again. “I can’t seem to finish a sentence.”
Al cleared his throat. “If I were you, I wouldn’t want Dottie to leave.”
“You…you see that?”
“All I have to do is watch Cora drag herself from the bedroom to the bathroom. She needs a lot of help.”
“Would you—I know it must seem like a lot to ask, but would you consider staying on?”
“Dot and I have been talking about selling her house.”
“Selling? But you sold yours, didn’t you?”
“We did, just before we left. But both of us really like it out here, and we’re head over heels for Joy and Jeffy. We’ll feel the same about your new baby. If you’ll have us, we could stay here till Cora comes into her own again. Later we could find our own place nearby, but for now, we’re just fine here.”
“Hoah…” Dennis choked on whatever he intended to say.
“We could afford to pay you rent by the month…”
“I can’t…you and Dottie are saving our necks. We’d be in a terrible place without you—we were, before Christmas. When Dottie couldn’t come, I didn’t know what to do. Wish my parents and my sisters lived closer, but they’ll never budge from Nebraska.
“Anyway, after that phone call, Cora was so downhearted—I never saw her so discouraged.”
“I always wanted to see the west coast, ever since I met up with some Californians in France. We like it here—makes us feel young again, needed.”
“You’ve taken a lot off my mind. I’ll sleep better now.” Dennis rose from his armchair as easily as if feathers floated in his arms.
Al smoothed his hand over Jeffy’s back. “Son, you’ve got leg muscles I sure don’t have any more. Good night, now.”
Chapter Thirty-One
On February fifteenth, a unique impression struck Dottie when she wakened, as though the day were a holiday or something. She puzzled over the feeling, like a bell tolling in the center of her being.
Al managed to escape their room without waking her, so she took advantage of a quiet start to her day. She washed her face and hands, brushed her teeth, ran a comb through her hair, and put on the dress she’d bought at the Wearwithall.
Flowers befitted suc
h a glorious day, with brilliant sunshine already warming the earth. The bright fabric would cheer Cora.
Between the apartment and the house, a strange sound drifted to her, like a bird’s cry, or children playing down the road. But no children lived down the road. Her pace quickened with her heart’s pounding.
Arms full of baby, Al chased Jeffy toward the back porch. “Brace yourself. Cora’s calling for you.”
The sight of her daughter writhing on her bed put steel in Dottie’s backbone. Today might be the day.
She grasped Cora’s wrist. “Are you hurting?”
“Unnnhh.”
“How long have you been…?”
“After…Dennis…left.” Why not before? With his steady temperament, Dennis could handle an emergency far better than she. But that wasn’t how life happened.
She brushed the question into the background, with so many others. Why Tunisia? Why that specific battle? Who found Bill and carried him away? And why Owen, so soon after?
Cora’s forehead beaded with sweat. Dottie ran to the bathroom for a cool cloth, and Cora quieted enough to open her eyes.
“Mom?”
“Tell me what’s happening.”
“I’m so hot…thirsty.”
“I’ll get you a drink.”
The next time Cora opened her eyes, Dottie noticed a yellow tinge. Her breath caught in her throat. That couldn’t be good.
“Doctor…I think maybe…”
Cora asking for the doctor was the last thing Dottie would ever expect. Cora’s philosophy on childbirth remained simple—women had been doing this for ages, and she’d been through it twice—why bother with a doctor? But Dennis set up her appointment, on advice from Captain Kenny’s wife.
Outside the window, Al whizzed by after Jeffy, Joy clutched in his arms. Maybe they should load Cora into the Chevy and drive her to the doctor’s office. On the other hand, maybe she’d sleep for a while.
When Cora’s head lagged to the side, Dottie consulted Al. Jeffy caught her knees when she reached the front porch, and she whisked him into her arms as Al read her worry.
“What do you think?”
“She’s got a fever—she mentioned the doctor. Maybe we ought to call him.”
“Can’t hurt. His name’s Bulow. Want me to look up his number?”
“That would be a big help. Here, let me take sweetie-pie.”
“It’s been a couple of hours since she ate.” Al caught Jeffy with his long arm. “Come with me, buddy. We have something to find for Grandma.”
Dottie heated a bottle, and exchanged Joy for the phone.
“On Buena Vista Street—helped to remember that.”
Just then Cora let out a yell, and Dottie bit her lip.
“You call, Al. Be sure to mention the fever.”
Cora’s voice heightened into a scream, and Dottie fled toward the bedroom, panic in her voice. “Oh my. Ask them if we should bring her to the office or the hospital.”
The bottom sheet was soaked through. Cora gripped Dottie’s hand so hard it hurt. “Com—ing.”
Energy shot through Dottie. She yelled for Al. “It’s too late. Ask the doctor to come here, and to hurry.”
****
“If I could use your phone?” Doctor Bulow emerged from Cora’ bedroom.
Al pointed to the kitchen and listened as the doctor turned the dial. This number system made a lot of sense—no one could listen in to your calls.
Quite an improvement over all Sternville’s longs and shorts—but then, California seemed ahead in a lot of ways.
Al grabbed the warm bottle, took the children to the big armchair and settled in. The best he could do was keep them fed and happy.
“Yes. Doctor Bulow. Send an ambulance immediately. Six miles north, right on Alameda till you come to the Rancho Bernardo sign. Turn left there—third driveway on your right, a long lane—white frame house. Woman in labor—have them be extra careful. I’ll meet them at the emergency entrance.”
The phone clicked and he walked back into the living room. “Can you tell me anything?”
“She’s dehydrating fast, may need a Caesarean section.”
A sliver of fear slid down Al’s spine. “You might have to operate?”
The doctor slipped his stethoscope from his neck and opened his black leather bag. “Hard to tell yet. But we don’t want to take any chances.”
Al rubbed Jeffy’s shoulders with his free hand since Joy had learned to hold her bottle. “Jeffy, this is the doctor. He’s going to help your mommy.”
“Glad you called when you did. Your daughter’s a strong girl, but sometimes women need more than their own strength.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “I’m going to take off. Is her husband…?”
“He’s at work, but I’ll try to find him. Where will Cora be?”
“Scripps in La Jolla. The sooner her husband gets there, the better.” He donned his hat and Al noticed a Navy inscription on his bag. So, he’d doctored in the war.
Joy finished her bottle, and Jeffy’s sleeping form weighted Al’s shoulder. He planted his feet and squirmed from the chair, remembering how easy this maneuver had been for Dennis. He lined a chair and an ottoman along the couch so they wouldn’t roll onto the floor. In Cora’s bedroom, Dottie bent over the bed.
He hurried to the phone book. Surely, Cora must have written down a number for Captain Kenny. If she hadn’t, how on earth would they ever reach Dennis?
****
“A package came in the mail for you, Dot. Why don’t you brew us some tea and come out to the porch?”
“Come, Gamma.”
Dottie rubbed her hands down her apron sides, eyeing Jeffy. A package? Who could that be from? She turned a slow circle in the middle of the kitchen.
“The refrigerator’s cleaned out, and the oven and floor are scrubbed.” Al was right. She couldn’t think of anything else to do, not until Cora’s sheets dried. Besides, her feet hurt.
Six hours had passed since Al talked with Captain Kenny’s wife, who offered to drive over to the worksite and send Dennis to the hospital. But he still hadn’t called. Work had become Dottie’s friend, but a cup of tea sounded wonderful.
She’d polished the kettle until it sparkled, and filled it with fresh water. During the last few days, she’d let things go in the kitchen. Now, she ran her finger along the counter’s edge—not a speck. At least she was doing all she could here, so when Cora came home…
While she worked, she prayed like crazy. “Keep her safe, don’t let them have to do surgery, please.”
She didn’t even know which prayers she meant and which she didn’t. It scared the dickens out of her to think of them using ether to put her under. What if Cora didn’t wake up?
She’d never experienced ether herself, but heard from some women about the process. Wouldn’t it be better to have your mind about you as your baby came into this world? Yet doctors kept learning new ways of doing things.
She carried a tray with full teacups, a glass of milk for Jeffy, a teething biscuit for Joy, and some cookies to the porch, where Al kept Jeffy under control. Joy sat at Al’s feet, playing with his shoelaces, a slobbery grin on her face. Dottie placed the tray on the table and pushed it back so no tiny fingers could reach it.
“Ah. Tea. Been a long time since we drank a cup together, Dot.”
She nodded. “I didn’t think I could sit down until we heard from Dennis, but it feels awfully good to get off my feet. Thanks for the idea.”
Jeffy charged up the porch steps with a black and white kitten. “Kitty—Shoko.”
“Shoko gave you the kitty?” She raised an eyebrow toward Al.
“This morning—she brought it over because he fell in love with it at their place a few days ago. I think she would have stayed to babysit if I’d asked her—she seems so eager to spend time with Jeffy. Hopefully Cora won’t mind about the cat.”
“Gamma…cookie…”
“It’ll have to be a garage cat, with a baby in the
house. Jeffy, put the kitty down if you want a cookie. Oh, I should have brought a wet cloth.”
“I’ll get one, sit still.” Al was back in half a minute. Jeffy bent over the kitten, but it toppled off the bottom step and worked its way into the short grass along the porch.
“Come here, buddy—why don’t we let kitty explore?” Jeffy climbed into Al’s lap for his snack. “Going to open your package?” Al gestured with his chin to a box wrapped in brown paper, shoved partway under the table.
“I suppose so. Who’s it from?”
Al let her read the return address for herself. “Why, Bonnie Mae. Wonder what she could’ve sent?” Jeffy leaped from Al’s lap. “Me hep Gamma!”
“Yes. You open it for me, honey.”
Occupied for a full five minutes, Jeffy forgot all about his cookie. Al retrieved Joy’s rubber teething toy from her dimpled thigh. Dottie leaned her head back in the wicker chair. Rays of sunshine eased her tension. If only Dennis would call and say Cora was all right, this would be a perfect afternoon. Her prayers mounted to heaven, the same request over and over.
Al patted her knee. “I know vain repetition gets us nowhere, but that’s all I can manage today.”
“Pitty, pitty!” Jeffy pulled some fabric from the box he’d finally pried open, and Dottie helped him spread it wide.
“Why, it’s a new apron—I bet Bonnie Mae made it herself. She told me she was going to learn to sew. That girl can do whatever she puts her mind to.”
Jeffy handed her an envelope, and she pulled out two handwritten pages. Dottie scanned the first. “She says to tell you hello from George. The men are deep into the afternoon tournaments and have recruited Fred Messerschmidt—Berta’s feeling better. Guess Fred hired someone to watch the store in the afternoons. But George says to tell you he’s no replacement for you.”
Al focused on children and cookies. “Here, Jeffy. Come drink your milk.”
“Henrietta’s been in the hospital in traction. She fell and broke her leg. Oh, my. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.”
“That’s too bad. See? If we hadn’t come out here, I’d be a miserable man with no one to bake for me.” Al wagged his head in mock self-pity.
“And the Langley’s daughter’s expecting her fourth—the doctor thinks it’s twins.”
In This Together Page 27