The Secret to Hummingbird Cake

by Celeste Fletcher McHale

  She laughed. “Fine,” she said and tucked her hands under her thighs. “Carri,” she said, “do you ever wonder what it will be like . . . later, I mean.”

  I knew exactly what she meant. “After she’s gone . . .”

  “Yes.”

  “I think about it all the time,” I said. “I try not to, but I do. Do you think about it?”

  She nodded her head. “All the time.”

  “It’s strange to think about the future without her, isn’t it?” I said.

  “I don’t even know how to think about it without her.”

  “It’s like it upsets the balance, tips the scales or something,” I said. “Who’s gonna keep the score at ball games? Who’s gonna put together our electronics? Who’s gonna tell me my jeans are too tight?”

  “Who’s gonna make the Hummingbird Cake?” Ella Rae continued. “Who’s gonna make me behave like a lady?” She smiled. “Who’s gonna be the responsible one now?”

  We both laughed at ourselves and our ridiculous questions, but we laughed to keep from crying. The truth was, Laine’s absence was going to leave a huge hole in our lives. What would happen when a third of our lifetime trio was gone? We’d starred in the “Carri, Laine, and Rae Show” for so long, I wasn’t sure Ella Rae or I would have an identity without Laine. Life would go on, but life as we knew it would not.

  Several years ago we’d lost our classmate Ricky Cahill when he was killed in an automobile accident. We’d gone to school with him all our lives. We were all in our early twenties at the time. We weren’t really close friends, but in a small town, you show up at wakes and you pay your respects.

  Ricky was a friendly guy, outgoing and good-looking. I remembered being at his wake and thinking how awful and tragic it was. I also remembered something Laine said that night sitting on the church pew beside me. “I know this is sad,” she said, “and I’m sad too, especially for his family. But I keep hearing people say, ‘Isn’t it tragic because he had his whole life in front of him.’ But what difference does that make? It’s not how long you live; it’s what you leave behind. Ricky was a great guy. Everybody loved him. That’s an amazing way to be remembered.”

  It’s not how long you live; it’s what you leave behind. Those words brought me some measure of comfort on this day. Laine would leave this world having made a difference. I knew it because of the students who came out to the Farm. I knew it because of the mailbox that was stuffed with cards. Her life, brief as it would be, had touched countless others. I was both proud of that and grateful for that.

  I also knew Laine wasn’t afraid to die, and that helped me too. While my own faith had been shaken by her illness, hers had been bolstered. She spoke of heaven as if she’d seen it already. She could see her daddy again, her grandparents, a cousin she’d lost early in her life. Even pets.

  She reminded me constantly that as soon as she closed her eyes, she’d be in the presence of God. “I don’t want an open casket. People would look at me and see a shell and feel sorry for me. But I’ll already be in paradise.” She had the faith of a child, and I wished I had half of it.

  “Do you think she’ll save us a seat?” Ella Rae asked suddenly.

  It took me a moment or two to realize what she meant.

  “In . . . heaven?” Ella Rae said. “You know, I’m just saying . . .”

  “Oh, sure she will, Rae,” I said. “Because she so loves to do that.” I put on my best Laine imitation: “If y’all could get your butts anywhere on time, I wouldn’t have to save seats every time we attend a function.”

  Ella Rae laughed. “I do remember that. She said it at church!”

  “On the front pew.”

  “Do you ever wonder what she does in her room all the time?” Ella Rae said.

  “I know,” I said. “It’s driving me crazy! But every time I ask her, she just says she’s working on a project.”

  “I went in her room the other night to get her a sweater and tried to snoop around a little,” Ella Rae said. “Then Debra walked in. I was so busted.”

  I suddenly felt my boobies begin to sting and I knew it was meal time for my sweet Elle. I needed to pump.

  “Oh no,” I said, “I forgot to get my breast pump upstairs.”

  Ella Rae made a face while I held my hands against my chest. “Do you have any idea how disgusting that is?”

  “It’s not disgusting,” I said. “It’s natural.”

  “It’s appalling.”

  “What do you think they’re there for, Ella Rae?” I said. “And when did you find out what appalling meant?”

  “I read sometimes.” She narrowed her eyes. “And I think they are decorative. You know, like Christmas ornaments.”

  I shook my head. “I have to get my pump. This stuff is liquid gold. I can’t waste it.” I pressed my hands tighter against my chest.

  “Don’t you have maxi pads in there?”

  “What?”

  “Didn’t you stick those maxi pads in your bra?” Ella repeated. “You always do.”

  “Ella Rae, they are not maxi pads,” I said. “They are breast pads.”

  “Thick, white, poofy. Same thing.”

  I shook my head. “I cannot wait for you to have a baby.”

  “I hope you don’t think I’m gonna feed it with my boobies,” she said. “Besides, that’s why doctors make dry-up shots and Walmart makes bottles. Now keep those things away from me.”

  “You are crazy,” I said. “Run look in the window and tell me what they’re doing. Maybe they won’t notice us.”

  Ella Rae crept over to the window and gestured for me to come as well.

  They were still on the sofa, but lying down now. Mitch had pulled her against him, and I was pretty sure Laine was asleep. Mitch was gently stroking her hair and looking down at her. He’d stop briefly to wipe his tears and then begin to stroke her hair again. He glanced up and saw us and silently mouthed the words, Thank you.

  I grabbed Ella Rae’s hand, and I didn’t even mind the sandpaper this time. We’d just witnessed an extraordinarily sweet moment. The last few months had been full of them. I was grateful for them all. Laine would die in peace with everything and everybody now. What a rare and incredible blessing.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Mitch stayed with us for the next five days. He met Mrs. Jeannette, Michael, and his wife and girls. Ella Rae filled them in about Mitch. I don’t know if they were shocked by his presence, but they accepted him immediately and thanked him profusely for coming.

  He made friends with Jack and Tommy too. They tried to make him feel as at home as possible, offering to take him places and show him things, but he didn’t take them up on it too often. He stayed by Laine’s side most of those five days. Laine became more and more emaciated, but I’d never seen her smile so much.

  I had grown to like Mitch and had come to understand his decision to leave Laine years ago. I had assured him an explanation wasn’t necessary, but he insisted on sharing the story with Ella Rae and me. It was during these days I began to realize there was just no easy way to understand anyone’s choices until you’ve walked in their shoes.

  On the fourth night after Mitch’s arrival, it started raining and hadn’t stopped. The forecast called for seven straight days of it. The thunder was constant and maddening. I hadn’t slept over an hour at a time since Laine had said, “It can’t be much longer now.” Sweet baby Elle had gotten over her bout with colic and was sleeping peacefully in her bassinet beside our bed. Jack was snoring lightly when I slipped out of the bedroom.

  I tiptoed down the stairs and into Laine’s bedroom.
Mrs. Jeannette was asleep on the sofa beside the bed. Laine was sleeping soundly, the only noise the steady hum of the oxygen machine. I watched her for a minute or so, until I felt satisfied, then left the room.

  I let myself out the front door quietly and stepped onto the porch. This had become my nightly ritual, slipping out to the porch to wrestle my demons. But tonight I had company.

  “Hey,” Ella Rae said.

  I looked over to see Ella on the porch swing and Mitch in a rocker.

  “So I’m not the only one?”

  “I haven’t slept in days,” Ella Rae said.

  Mitch smiled a little. “It’s been years for me.”

  I sat down in the other rocking chair and tucked my feet under me. “Jack and Elle are having no trouble.”

  “Neither is Tommy,” Ella Rae said. “I’m glad that job is done and he’s home for a while. Things are sure gonna be strange around here when it’s ov—” She stopped abruptly, caught herself like the day I said Laine would take the Hummingbird Cake recipe to her grave. And she felt the same way I had.

  “It’s okay, Ella Rae,” I said. “We just can’t pretend any more.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Every day I feel like we could’ve done more. Do you feel like that too?”

  “All the time,” I said. “I still think about the chemo.”

  Mitch cleared his throat. “Surely the two of you can have no guilt. I left the woman I loved. I sent her on her way, knowing she loved me too. You two are already grieving, I’m the bad guy here.”

  “Don’t say that, Mitch,” Ella Rae said. “You love her too.”

  “A lot of good that did her.” He shook his head. “I have so many regrets, and all of them have to do with Laine. I know you don’t need to hear this, but I need to say it. Will you indulge me?”

  Ella Rae and I nodded.

  Mitch didn’t speak immediately. I’m not sure he could. We sat in silence until he was ready.

  “I didn’t have a pleasant childhood,” he began. “My parents fought my entire life. About everything. My dad drank. A lot. So did Mom. My childhood memories consist of screaming matches between them and not much else. I was relieved when they sent me to live here with my grandparents because it was the only stability I ever knew. Even though it was tough on a new kid in high school here.”

  He chuckled a little. “I wasn’t athletic, wasn’t a hunter, didn’t fish. I liked to read. Still do. And please don’t take this the wrong way, because it isn’t meant to be a reflection on anyone, but Laine was one of the only people in high school who acknowledged my existence. I always remembered that.”

  “It wasn’t you,” I said. “It was softball. It was all-consuming.”

  “I know. I’ve seen you both play. Pretty impressive.” He smiled. “Anyway, when I was a freshman at ULM, I met Sydney. She was a nice enough girl and we began dating. It was going pretty well for a few months until one night when we were at a restaurant and I saw a girl from my English class. I don’t even remember her name. We talked about class, she introduced us to her boyfriend, normal stuff. When they left, Sydney accused me of flirting with the girl and humiliating her in public. I didn’t even know how to respond. And it gets better. When we got in my car, she started slapping me and scratching me with her nails. I never said another word. I drove her straight to her dorm and didn’t call her again. I had lived through that in my life already. She called me every day, she camped outside my apartment, she left notes all over my car, she keyed my car, smashed a window in my apartment. You get the picture.”

  “I know women like that,” I said.

  “My way of responding was not to respond,” Mitch continued. “I thought it had worked. For a couple of weeks, I heard nothing from her. Then one day she showed up outside my history class, crying, apologizing, begging me to talk to her. We went outside and she told me she was pregnant. I didn’t believe her. I assumed it was another attempt to make me stay with her. She showed me a—what do you call those pictures of babies?”

  “Sonogram,” Ella Rae said.

  “Yes, a sonogram,” Mitch said. “She said it was why she’d been so crazy lately. I was eighteen. It made sense to me. And one thing I knew from an early age, I would never let a child of mine go through what I’d been through. I thought it was the best thing to do for the child, so I asked her to marry me. That day. She said yes. Worst mistake of my life. No, second worst.”

  He fell silent again for a little while.

  “You don’t owe us any of this, Mitch,” I said. “It’s okay if you want to stop now.”

  “But I do owe you this, Carrigan,” he said. “I owe you both.”

  “No,” Ella Rae said, “we don’t need—”

  “Let me finish,” Mitch said. “We got married the next weekend. She moved into my apartment, and for a month or two, I thought it might work out. I didn’t love her, but as long as she wasn’t destroying something, I thought I would learn to. Well, I was wrong. She began accusing me of cheating on her at least once a week, always followed by breaking plates, throwing things all over the apartment. And she never missed an opportunity to claw my face.

  “I swear, I never touched her, never cursed her, never raised a hand to her. And I didn’t tell her this, but before our son was born, I had already been to a lawyer and had divorce papers drawn up. But I wasn’t going to leave her before she delivered. Finally our son, Adam, arrived. Let me say, regardless of the relationship you have with the other parent, you fall in love when you look at your child.”

  “Yes, you do,” I said.

  Mitch smiled back. “So for him, I tried one more time. This time it was worse. She’d gained quite a bit of weight during the pregnancy and it only escalated her jealousy. She began to accuse me of seeing our next-door neighbor, who happened to be a pianist at a local church. I came home from work one night to find her beating on the poor woman’s door and screaming things you wouldn’t hear in a locker room.”

  He paused and took a breath. “That was the last straw. I filed for divorce the next day. Sydney still tried everything she could to get me to come back, and then she’d go off the deep end again. Finally I got a restraining order against her and told her I would take our son away from her if she ever pulled another crazy stunt. A few months later, I ran into Laine. She was . . . and is the love of my life.”

  He stopped and wiped his eyes. “I don’t know how much she’s told you,” he said. “But we were in love. Those months were the happiest of my life. She loved Adam. And he loved her. She was a better mother to him on the weekends I had him than Sydney ever was.

  “One day I told her I was going to petition the court for custody. And that’s when things began to change. Laine couldn’t bear the thought of taking a child away from his mother. She started encouraging me to mend my fences with Sydney, at least while Adam was young. She didn’t want him bouncing between us. And she reminded me of what I had been through as a child.

  “In the end, I chose my son. Sydney agreed to counseling, and finally got proper treatment for a bipolar disorder. And that helped tremendously. But I could never look at her without thinking she was the reason I had lost Laine. And Sydney knew that. Last year she asked me to leave. It was a relief for us both, and Adam finally has two fully functioning parents.”

  “I am so sorry, Mitch,” I said. “You didn’t deserve any of this.”

  “What I didn’t deserve was Laine,” he said. “The day I went back to Sydney, Laine told me if we were meant to be, then love would always find a way. And love finally did. Thank you for calling me, thank you . . .”

  Mitch began to weep openly, and Ella Rae got up and embraced him. I clenched my t
eeth as hard as I could and turned my head away.

  “Let’s go inside, Mitch,” Ella Rae said. “This is too much for you tonight. You need to get some sleep.”

  Mitch regained his composure. “Thank you both,” he repeated, “for everything.”

  I squeezed his hand.

  Ella Rae stayed inside too and left me alone with my thoughts. And they weren’t good ones. Listening to Mitch describe Sydney, I couldn’t help but think how close I had come to becoming someone like her. All crazy and mean and unpredictable. At least Sydney had an excuse, a real illness. I was just hateful. I had done something awful for no other reason than to hurt Jack. And the craziest thing about that? I still had no idea if Jack had done anything at all to warrant it.

  Maybe this was just who I was. Laine had sacrificed everything for a child she barely knew. I had hurt three people for nothing as noble as love . . . but just because I was feeling hurt and rejected. I was so sick of myself.

  I jumped from the rocker and ran upstairs to our room, not bothering to be careful or quiet. Being with Elle made me sane again. I watched her sleep and felt the calmness creep back into my body. I curled up on the edge of the bed and kept one hand on the bassinet.

  I glanced at the bedside clock. Three a.m. Maybe sleep would come for a little while at least, but it took its own sweet time showing up.

  At exactly seven a.m. there was a light knock at my door. I sat up straight and was instantly wide-awake. I looked in the bassinet. Jack must’ve taken Elle down already. I opened the door and found Ella Rae standing there.

  “Debra says Laine wants to talk to us.”

  I didn’t care for the look on her face. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” Ella Rae said. “It doesn’t feel right, though.”

  We went downstairs and into Laine’s room. She was in her bed, slightly elevated and . . . glistening. Laine’s word for sweating. The thought almost made me smile.