“Uh-huh,” Lucy said. She clearly knew the truth too.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
Lucy shook her head, and he could see her eyes were glossing over with tears. “I don’t know, Jeptha. Sometimes I just wish …”
He stared at her, feeling his nose prickle. For the first time, Jeptha didn’t want to know everything in his wife’s head, sure she was still regretting the night last summer that had gotten them to this place. His shoulders slumped forward, the last tiny smidgen of hope he’d been nursing slipping out of him as easily as a bar of wet soap off the bathtub’s edge. She was right. They’d both been fooling themselves, playing house and hoping they could construct a real life out of foolish dreams, with no nod to the reality that surrounded them.
“You know what, sometimes I do too,” Jeptha said. “But I can’t. So why don’t you text me that class info, and I’ll be there tomorrow.” Then he walked out the door.
HOURS LATER, THREE rejections under his belt, he found himself parked in a chair on Cody’s front porch as the weak winter sun set. “What are you doing here?” Cody asked as he came out on his porch with a sweating beer in his hand that Jeptha’s eyes went straight to.
“Just drivin’ around. Wound up here.”
“It was weird enough seeing you in a suit on your wedding day. Why the hell are you wearing one today?” Cody asked, motioning Jeptha up on the porch with a lazy wave of his hand. He sat in one of the wicker rocking chairs and took a deep pull on his beer. Jeptha took a seat in the rocker beside him, where Marla usually sat.
“Job hunting.”
“Worst kind of hunting there is,” Cody said. “How’d it go?”
Jeptha poked his finger between the collar of his shirt and his roughened skin and pulled. On his wedding day, the suit had given him a sense of promise. Today, it scratched him all over and seemed to echo the word “no” with every step. His father’s alcohol-infused sweat seemed to linger in its fibers.
“Ain’t no one gonna give me a job. I wouldn’t,” Jeptha said. Today was nothing like his wedding day.
“Aw, shit, man. It ain’t that bad, is it?”
“Tried over at the plant where you are, couldn’t get past that red-taloned HR lady.”
“Stephanie? She’s the worst. Ain’t got no idea what happens there once the carpet ends.”
“Well, she was damn clear she didn’t want me on any surface over there, carpeted or no.”
“What about Wal—”
“Nope. Can’t even get on there.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that ain’t been a problem before now.”
“Before now, I didn’t have a wife and a little boy on the way.”
“What’s Lucy say?”
“Not much. Just sighs.”
“She working?”
“The bar three nights and Walmart forty hours. Looking for some cleaning jobs too.”
“Ain’t she about to have that baby any day?”
“Yep.”
“Damn, man. You need a beer,” Cody said, and heaved himself out of the chair. Jeptha didn’t stop him.
“Here,” Cody said, thrusting a can toward Jeptha. The cold, heavy beer felt right in his hand. He stared at it, the circle of the pop top the perfect size for his finger. He slipped his fingernail under it and flicked it up the smallest amount he could without opening it, over and over, listening to the tinny little rings it made. His mind was immersed in imagining the soul-pleasing sound of giving in—pop, thwack, fizz—and then tasting that first sip. His mouth watered and he bit his lip.
“So what are you going to do?” Cody asked.
“About what?” Jeptha said, still staring at the unopened can.
“Work.”
“I ain’t got a clue.”
“You gonna drink that beer or stare at it?” Cody asked.
Jeptha took a deep breath and put it back on the table. “Nah. It’s been five months. Don’t wanna go back down that road.”
Cody stared at him, a look of surprise on his face. After a minute, he said, “Why don’t you come by the plant tomorrow with me? Shift starts at eight. I can introduce you to Tom, see if maybe they’s a spot for you. He can hire people without having to go through Stephanie.”
“Yeah?” Jeptha asked, his voice two octaves higher than it had been. “Man, that would be awesome. You sure?”
Cody glanced quickly at the unopened beer again and nodded. “Yeah. Come on.”
Marla stuck her head out the screen door. “I’m putting on dinner. Jeptha, you staying?”
“Nah, I’m good. I got to get home.” He smiled at Cody. “I got a job interview tomorrow.”
“Damn right,” Cody said.
“Good for you. Good luck,” Marla said. “Say hey to Lucy for me.” She looked at Cody’s beer, and then up at her husband, one eyebrow raised. Then she went back into the house.
“Wish you was drinking. Now this one’s gonna go to waste too,” Cody said, putting the beer down on the table beside Jeptha’s.
“Marla got you on a beer diet?”
“Something like that. Don’t like me drinking too much. And not in front of the kids.”
“Ouch.”
“She got the idea from watching you, asshole. Said you was like a new man. Got her thinking she wanted one too.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Aw, don’t be. I kind of like it, actually. Plus, I done lost ten pounds. And Marla likes that,” Cody said, with a quick wink. He stepped into the house, and the screen door swung shut behind him.
Jeptha’s eyes were on that half-empty beer, his fingers twitching beside his leg, desperate to grab the can and chug it down in one sip. What was half a beer? Nothing. He didn’t need to open the other one, just keep Cody’s from going to waste. It wasn’t like it was falling off the wagon to have half of a beer. He took three steps toward the can, his hand already reaching out.
“Eight o’clock, Jeptha. I’ll see you there, right?” Cody said from behind the screen, his eyes narrowed.
Jeptha jumped backward and shook his head. “Yeah, eight,” he said and ran off the porch to his car.
IT WAS QUIET in the trailer that night. Jeptha and Lucy tiptoed around each other, polite but neither quite ready to make amends. Jeptha wanted to tell her about the interview but didn’t want to jinx it. Besides, no matter what he did or what he looked at, all he saw was that beer can, drops of condensation dripping down its side. In bed, when Lucy scooted her butt toward him and he put his hand on her hip, he felt a cool, metal can in his grasp. When she rolled over to kiss him, apparently ready to apologize, if not in words, he tasted sparkling, hoppy beer instead of his wife. When she climbed on top of him, her long hair hanging down over her now-huge boobs, he had to force his eyes open because whenever he closed them, he saw not her body, but a can of beer, foam frothing out the top. After, he grabbed onto her waist and held her tightly until he fell asleep, afraid of what might happen if he let go.
14
WHEN JEPTHA LEFT THAT morning, dressed once again in his suit, Lucy was sure he wouldn’t remember the childbirth class. He’d left as determined as she’d seen him in weeks, even whistling “Shady Grove” as he walked down the steps. The sex, she thought. She’d been willing to forgive him enough to have angry, pity sex with him, but not enough to remind him about the class before he left. It was as obvious as those rainbow-hued tests of the emergency broadcast system that used to come on TV. This was a test and one she dearly wanted him to pass. If he didn’t, it wouldn’t just be LouEllen’s voice that echoed through her head, saying “I told you so.” Jeptha was trying, she knew that, squaring his shoulders a little more every day to deal with the rejection he faced after every interview. If she hadn’t been pregnant, she wouldn’t have put so much hope on him. But then, she thought with a rueful laugh, if she hadn’t been pregnant, she wouldn’t have been here with him at all.
There had been good moments thes
e last few months. He was sober, for one thing, which was a minor miracle. He’d put together all the stuff for the baby, never complaining when he pinched his fingers assembling a swing that he must have known would never fit in their trailer. He had stood with her in the baby aisle at Walmart, offering whatever opinions he had on diaper cream and nursing pillows, and hadn’t even seemed annoyed by the process of it. He had worked hard to try to get a steady job. She would never have thought it would be the case, but there was a core of sweetness in Jeptha, especially when it came to her. Every instance of it surprised her. There were moments—at their wedding, when he had stared at her, open-mouthed with awe when she walked down the aisle; when she saw the bright blue living room he’d painted for her; when he brought her Krispy Kreme hot nows as a surprise—when she found herself liking him, maybe even loving him. In those moments, she was sure that not only could they could do this, but that they were doing it—they were a family. They could raise a kid, not perfectly, but with some amount of love that would be enough.
She’d held onto this notion so tightly that she’d allowed herself to hope when Jeptha came out in his dad’s suit. He looked handsome, like he had at their wedding, and capable, even driven. But after a night of almost no sleep and with the baby due in a few weeks, Lucy had woken up without blinders on. He was never going to get one of these jobs he was going out for. She was an idiot for ever hoping.
Crystal Gayle’s face appeared below Lucy’s head on the table. Lucy smiled. The dog harrumphed deep in her throat, like she had been shouldering forever the frustration Lucy was feeling. She wagged her tail and nudged her nose under Lucy’s leg.
“You think he’ll ever change?” Lucy said to her, rubbing the Mohawk that sprung up between the dog’s ears. Crystal Gayle woofed softly, a sound of hope. Poor thing, she’d been sticking it out on a hope and a prayer for much longer than Lucy had. She was a smart dog, though—Lucy hoped maybe she knew something that humans couldn’t see.
“All right, girl. I’m gonna head to work. He said he’d see me at class, so let’s hope so, huh?”
WHEN LUCY WALKED into the community room of the hospital that night, she was alone. Six happy couples, each with their own pillow, sat in a circle, all cuddled up with each other. She nearly fled in tears. But the instructor spotted her then and waved her over. She was an older woman, her graying brown hair cut in an unattractive bob, with a teddy bear embroidered on the roll of her turtleneck and breath that smelled of onions and uncleaned dentures. When Lucy came closer, the instructor adopted an expression like a sad gummy bear, her eyebrows smooshed together and the corners of her mouth pulled in and down, as if she were smiling and frowning at the same time. Lucy wanted to punch her in her pity-laden mouth.
“Forgot your pillow? On your own?” she said, her voice quiet and mousy, probably intended to be kind. Lucy fell into a pile beside her and sat in a static of anger, her hands clenched together so tightly her knuckles were white.
“My name is Phyllis, and we are here for childbirth class, to learn about childbirth and how you and your partner—” She stopped and looked over at Lucy. “Excuse me, how you can navigate your way through what is a beautiful, natural process that will bring your baby into this world.”
Lucy stared at the floor to avoid the wall of pity that surrounded her. She squeezed her hands tighter.
“Can I help you?” Lucy heard Phyllis ask.
Lucy looked up, and there in the doorway was Jeptha, a pizza-stained pillow from the couch clutched under his arm. Lucy sighed audibly as tears of joy came to her eyes.
“He passed,” she said under her breath as Jeptha strode across the room and sat beside her as the other dads had done.
“Oh! Welcome! Our last dad is here!” Phyllis said. She clapped her hands and beamed with joy—relieved, Lucy was sure, that she wouldn’t have to spend her whole night having to change her lecture to accommodate the sad, single mother she thought Lucy was.
“Hi,” Lucy whispered to Jeptha. “You came.”
“Sorry I was late. I was at work.”
“Work?”
“At the plant. Cody got me on. Full time.”
Lucy leaned over and hugged Jeptha, not caring at all that the other couples were staring and Phyllis was bungling her lecture about the naturalness of childbirth. She kissed him on the cheek. “I’m so happy. And proud of you,” she said.
Jeptha squeezed her hand. “Me too,” he said. He nodded at Phyllis. “We supposed to be listening here?”
Lucy was so happy she barely heard any of the words Phyllis said for the rest of the night. First labor is a lot longer than you think. Try to breathe. Put your hand in this ice water and see how long you can stand it. She and Jeptha kept laughing at all the wrong moments until it was clear they were Phyllis’s least favorite couple in class. Lucy didn’t care. It was worth it.
TWO WEEKS LATER, Lucy was uncomfortably aware of Judy’s eyes on her lumbering, waddling form as she came through the door for her shift.
“How are you feeling?” Judy asked.
Lucy yawned. “That,” she said, as she tucked her stuff under the counter. She tied her apron around her waist, grabbed a rag, and lifted up Delnor’s beer to wipe under it. “Hey, Delnor,” she said.
“There she is,” he replied, his voice sleepy. “How’s that baby doing?”
“Causing as much trouble as you, Delnor,” she said, smiling at him.
“So raging against the machine.”
“Pretty much. He’s in there, kicking and swimming around, getting cooked. Making my belly hurt.”
“Aren’t you getting pretty close?” Judy asked.
“Five weeks or so,” Lucy said. In the beginning, she’d been so excited when people asked when she was due. She had no idea how much she would come to hate that question.
“How’s Jeptha? I don’t see him in here anymore except for when he plays,” Judy said.
“He’s good. He got on at the plant a couple weeks ago, full time. He’s liking it. Gets to work with Cody,” Lucy said, cautiously. Lucy hadn’t mentioned Jeptha’s job to anyone, not wanting to jinx it, but now that he was a few weeks in, she felt more comfortable.
“What I’ve noticed is he don’t hardly drink no more,” Delnor said.
“I know,” Lucy said. “He gave it up.”
“Why’d he do a damn fool thing like that?”
“Don’t know, Delnor,” Lucy said with a laugh.
“Probably love. It’ll make a man do crazy things,” Delnor said.
“Will wonders never cease,” Judy said, rolling her eyes at Lucy. “Delnor Gilliam, a romantic.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with that. I got a heart in here somewheres,” he said, pawing at the front of his shirt.
“Probably hard to find under all that alcohol,” Judy said.
“Speaking of which …” Delnor trailed off pitifully, holding up his empty glass with a pleading expression on his face.
“Oh, fine. Just this once,” Judy said and put a new beer in front of him.
“I might fall in love with you if you keep doing that,” Delnor said to Judy.
“Keep talking and I’ll take it back.”
Hearing that, Delnor wrapped his beer in both hands, took a huge sip, and promptly spilled some down his chin and into his lap. Judy shook her head and threw a towel at him.
“So, Lucy. How’re you feeling about work? You thinking about scaling back a bit?” Judy asked.
“I don’t know. Can’t go down at Walmart or I lose my insurance. And Jeptha just got on, and I don’t have much longer to work before I’m gonna go out anyway.”
“You know I don’t tell people what to do …”
Delnor stared up at Judy and grumbled. She flicked her narrowed eyes at him and his beer. He stopped. “Unless they need it. And I’m not going to tell you. But Jeptha’s full-time now. You’re full-time now. You may want to think about resting a little.”
“I’m fine,” Lucy said, feeling anything but
.
“Lucy. You had to lay down in the basement the other day because you were having such bad contractions. That floor is disgusting.”
“I just needed a few minutes. I was fine.”
“What does Jeptha say?”
“You think I need to obey my husband?”
“Don’t insult me like that. I’m asking because he sees you at night when you aren’t here putting on your best face.”
Lucy sighed and leaned back against the counter. “He says I should tone it down a little. Says now he’s got a job, I don’t need to have two.”
“I think you may want to listen to him.”
“I just worry, Judy,” Lucy said. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “This sober business is new to him. So is the steady work. If he lost it …”
“You could come right back here and work again.”
“You’d keep my job for me?”
“You think I want to hire someone else permanently? You’re my best worker. But Brandy Anne, or whatever her name is, says she’s between chairs at the salons and could use a couple months of work.”
Lucy closed her eyes and let herself imagine not having to come to work at Judy’s three nights a week after her eight-hour shifts. She loved the job, but she was flat exhausted. She could go home, finish getting the baby stuff together, clean the house, read the baby books. Or sleep, she thought with a groan. Her belly tightened up then, and she rubbed hard against it with her hands, her face tense with pain. Whoever said Braxton-Hicks contractions didn’t hurt had never had any. When it subsided, she opened her eyes.
“Are you really serious?” Lucy asked.
“Brandy Anne is coming in twenty minutes. Thought you could train her and then take off.”
“Thank you, Judy,” Lucy said, relief flooding her voice. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
AFTER A WEEK of working only one job, Lucy felt like a new person. Instead of collapsing onto the couch during her break, she walked the aisles trying to think if there were any last-minute baby items they needed. They had used Jeptha’s first check to stock up on diapers, formula, and clothes. Everything had a place, even if that place was tucked into a basket under the couch. Everything looked ready. But, with just a few weeks left to go, Lucy was a ball of nesting nerves. Her doctor had told her to relax and rest as much as she could, but she couldn’t stop walking the aisles, sure she’d forgotten something.
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