Marilee flashed the papers at Vella. There were clever little drawings all around the edges of the writing.
Adjusting her new reading glasses, Marilee launched into the letter as if she found it another War and Peace, which maybe it sort of was. Corrine had a flair for observing characters’ foibles. She told of the romantic triangle of three students, and, in detail, the story of one of the professors who admitted to mistaking a large dried dropping of bird poo for preserves and taking a bite. The professor said it was salty.
As often happens in these cases, while Marilee was in the midst of the second reading, Paris Miller arrived, slipped up on a stool and ordered a cherry Coke. “Two cherries, please, like Corrine made ’em.” Marilee offered to begin reading Corrine’s letter again for the girl’s benefit. She had gotten to page two, when Larry Joe Darnell came in for three barbecue sandwiches and drinks to take back to his crew at the Texaco. He made his order politely to Belinda, taking care to stand two steps back from the counter, presumably out of range of her newspaper.
Marilee started Corrine’s letter over once more for Larry Joe’s benefit. While she read, Larry Joe edged near to look over her shoulder. He kept interrupting by pointing out different illustrations on the edges of the paper. Paris stared down into her cold drink, quietly swirling the straw.
Vella, sitting on her stool, watched all of this, her eye running from face to face, as her thoughts revolved around telling Belinda her news. Telling everyone her news. In fact, it came to her that telling Belinda with people present might be a good idea. She determined to speak at the first opening. Very casually, say something like, I have news….
When Marilee finished reading, Larry Joe said, “So Corrine’s gonna work up at that ranch for special kids?”
“Yes.” Marilee carefully folded the letter, running her fingers over the folds.
The next instant she smacked Larry Joe with the folded letter. Once, twice, three whacks at the back of his neck. “And it’s all your fault…you…you mo-ron!” She smacked him again, made a frustrated noise and stalked from the drugstore.
Larry Joe, wide-eyed, looked at Vella and Belinda and Paris. “What’d I do?”
“You are a mo-ron,” said Paris, and walked from the drugstore.
Belinda then said, “What did you do? You made the stupid choice to get engaged to a selfish piece of fluff who wants to make you over, instead of waitin’ for a solid young woman who loves you just like you are. Here’s your order. Pay Mama.”
Then Belinda stalked away.
Vella felt a little like the only tree left standing in a wood. Deciding not to enter into the fray, she calmly took Larry Joe’s money without comment. If he wanted to ask her anything, he didn’t do it. He didn’t wait for change, either, but snatched up his bags of food and disappeared out the door.
Giving a deep sigh, Vella wiped a wet cloth over the counter. She glanced at the clock, thinking it a good idea to give Belinda ten minutes or so to settle her feathers.
Unfortunately, it was during this settling time that Inez Cooper came in, ordered a cold tea and went back to speak to Belinda. Vella found this behavior curious. She was actually a little jealous. Inez and Belinda had never been great friends. It seemed that a number of people who used to come to Vella for consultation had, during her time in France, changed their allegiance to Belinda.
She started toward the rear, not really to eavesdrop but just to listen a little, and after all, her own desk was there.
Before she reached the doorway, however, Belinda’s voice floated forward.
“Inez, I do not have another remedy for you to try on Norman, but I do have one for you to try on yourself. Stop all your houndin’. If it isn’t workin’, don’t keep doin’ it. Quit tryin’ to fix Norman and do some fixin’ on yourself. I suggest you go get your hair done, buy some sexy nightgowns and maybe read up on how to relate to a man. The bookstores are filled with that sort of help.”
“Well!” said Inez.
In two strides Vella was back at the soda fountain counter, feeling silly for running.
Inez came flying past. She got halfway across the store, turned and stalked back to the counter, swept up her cold drink at the same time tossing down two dollars. She then strode away hard enough to hurt her feet.
Vella thought that she was making a great profit on everyone leaving their change, which she put into her own pocket this time.
Jaydee had spilled it all to Winston, of course. “He wormed it out of me.”
“Well, I’m old but I’m not blind,” said Winston.
The two men and Willie Lee came into the drugstore the following day, during the lunch rush. They took their place at their customary table. Vella brought the men cold tea and barbecue sandwiches, and a chicken salad for Willie Lee and Munro, who hid among the human feet under the table. She returned a minute later with a tall latte for herself.
“Did you tell Belinda?” asked Jaydee.
Vella answered a little testily. “Not yet…there hasn’t been a moment.”
Winston reached out and took her hand, then pressed it to his lips. Their eyes met, and then skittered away from each other and then back again, as they shared faint smiles. In that instant the past and what might have been fell around them like a spray of sweet perfume. Vella was struck sharply by her position, smack in the middle between the two men.
“There’s Belinda,” said Jaydee.
“I know, sugar. Belinda has been here all afternoon. It’s just that there hasn’t been time…. We’ve been busy, and—”
“Belinda?” Winston called out, interrupting.
“Yes, Winston?”
Vella, who had experienced a prick of concern at Winston’s action, was distracted from this as she watched Belinda saunter toward them. Her daughter really looked unusually pretty in her pregnancy.
“How are you feelin’, darlin’?”
“Well, I’m fat and my back hurts, and I threw up my lunch, and right now I have a bit of a headache. How are you and everyone else?” Laying a hand on Winston’s shoulder, Belinda took them all in with her gaze.
“Doin’ pretty well, thanks,” said Jaydee.
And Winston said, easy as could be, “Jaydee and your mother are gonna get married.”
Vella was caught with her cup of latte halfway to her mouth. She had suspected Winston was going to do this, and she had been undecided as to wanting him to do the job and not wanting him to. Now she tipped over to wishing he had not. She looked at Belinda to gauge her daughter’s response and try to marshal words to deal with it.
But Belinda said quite blandly, “A blind person could have seen it comin’.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Winston said.
Belinda’s eyes met Vella’s. “Congratulations, Mama. When are you doin’ it?”
“Thank you, sugar. We aren’t certain yet. Only a few weeks, though.”
“Uh-huh. Well, I guess you can tell me more later, but excusez-moi for right now, y’all. I’m off to the bank, then home.” Belinda patted Winston’s shoulder as she left.
Vella, with both her thoughts and her gaze following her daughter, noted that Belinda was starting to waddle. She was going to be quite large as a matron of honor.
The next instant, right before Vella’s eyes, Belinda went down, just like a piece of cloth fluttering to the floor.
For the first time in her life, Vella was so struck that she could not move.
CHAPTER 18
What We Do Not Know
“SO, WHAT’S THIS ABOUT YOU FAINTIN’ YESTERDAY?”
Dr. Zwolle’s blue eyes shifted from Belinda to Lyle, who sat beside her.
Lyle had insisted on attending each consultation since he had learned about the baby. He brought his small notebook, where he jotted all manner of notes, as he did when doing an investigation. Then he would come home and look up things on the Internet. As he was not very experienced with using the computer and Internet, Belinda often had to help him. This caused
her to read a number of things she found unhelpful to her frame of mind, as well as her blood pressure. She developed a method of looking at the computer screen with a squint.
“It was just a little spell,” Belinda clarified, finding herself squinting now. “I sort of went down, but I came back immediately.”
“I see. And what preceded this little spell?”
“Well, I hadn’t felt good all day, threw up my lunch, and I was hungry…and a little dizzy. But immediately after, I was back to myself. The baby was movin’ and kickin’ a-plenty, and Oran—that’s our pharmacist, and he was a paramedic in the army—he said I was okay, and all my vitals were okay.”
Really, it had been Willie Lee’s pronouncement of her overall health and that of the baby that had been enough to reassure Belinda and cause Winston to support her decision to simply go home and rest. All three—her mother, Winston and Jaydee—had insisted on driving her home, where her mother had prepared a can of chicken noodle soup and insisted on helping her get to bed. It had been a strange experience. She could not recall her mother ever tending her with chicken soup or putting her to bed.
Lyle cleared his throat and read from his notebook. “Her blood pressure was at one eighty-nine over one ten.”
“Ah-huh.” The doctor nodded, her gaze returning to Belinda’s chart. “It’s milder today, one thirty-five over ninety,” she said for Lyle’s benefit, watching him write. Then the doctor smiled in a reassuring manner. “This is not terribly unusual or anything to panic about. I think we do need to get a check on your sugar levels, though.”
“She’s havin’ nightmares,” Lyle said.
“Oh?” The doctor’s eyes shifted to Belinda.
“Sometimes I do that. I’ve done that since I was a kid….”
“I don’t remember you doin’ that.”
“You were not with me when I was a kid, Lyle. But you might remember that I did go through a time of nightmares right after we bought the house.” Back to the doctor: “The baby’s gettin’ heavier, and it’s just a little more difficult to sleep. My body is under a lot of stress. And I’m kind of anxious about bein’ a first-time mother.”
“And her mother told her yesterday that she’s gettin’ married.”
“It was not a surprise, Lyle.”
The doctor’s eyes moved back and forth between them. “I understand. It’s a busy, stressful time.” Then to Belinda, “Are you worried about losin’ the baby?”
Belinda swallowed. “I guess I am. I mean, everyone keeps askin’ me how I am doin’, and then there’s all those cautions for a woman over thirty-five, and I keep throwin’ up, and I can’t have hardly anything sweet and have to walk, and I hate to walk…and people seem to think I’m gonna be upset about things that I am not. It is amazin’ the top of my head isn’t comin’ off.”
She closed her mouth, suddenly realizing how she was running on.
The doctor nodded. “You sound pretty normal, given your situation.”
Belinda held her breath, wondering if the situation the doctor was thinking of was having had an abortion. Oh, God, don’t let her say anything….
The doctor said, “We have to get you to relax.”
Dr. Zwolle outlined a plan for daily walking in the morning and rest each afternoon. “Feet elevated, at least an hour and a half…alone and quiet,” she instructed in a firm tone.
The doctor even gave Belinda the name of a meditation CD she wanted her to get from the bookstore.
“I’ll get it,” said Lyle, writing like crazy in his notebook.
A breeze gently moved the sheers at the bedroom window. There came the scent of fall, even though the air was yet warm.
Belinda stretched on her back in bed, her head resting on two down feather pillows covered in crisp cotton cases and her feet propped on two thick foam throw pillows. She felt like a watermelon in a patch, her arms and legs vines.
Dropping her head back onto the feather pillows, she donned a silk lavender-scented eye mask and clicked on the stereo using the remote. Ethereal flute music floated forth, followed by a voice that told her to inhale deeply. “One…two…that’s it…three, four. Now let it out to the count of six. One…feel it…”
Belinda found that she was paying more attention to what to do than doing it. She felt lacking in not being able to keep up.
Pointing the remote again, she clicked the button. The stereo whirred, another CD started. Instrumental music, pleasant guitar sound.
Breathing deeply, she told her body to relax. Yes, you, too, legs. There.
The baby kicked. The little one was not relaxing. “Mama loves you,” she whispered, and stroked her belly. Tears sprang to her eyes beneath the mask. She lay there feeling the life within. Marveling at it.
This went on for some time, and then there was a sound. Someone in the room?
Belinda lifted her mask to peek.
“Mama! How long have you been standin’ there?”
“A couple of minutes. I thought you were asleep, and then I saw you rubbin’ your belly. What did the doctor say?” her mother asked as she crossed the room and threw herself in the overstuffed chair.
So much for resting alone, Belinda thought.
“I am fine. I just have to walk every mornin’ and rest every afternoon. You can ask Lyle for details.”
“Was that Lyle I heard in the garage?”
“I hope so.” Belinda punched the pillows behind her head. The doctor had said an hour and a half with feet up, minimum. Lyle had shown her in his notes. She just never was good at being told what to do, and forced rest seemed to defeat the purpose.
“I heard what sounded like a power saw. I didn’t know he could use a saw.”
Belinda looked at her mother. “I guess he can.” She really hadn’t known, either. Now she felt a little worried.
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s makin’ somethin’. It is a surprise. Somethin’ with wood. I’m goin’ to put this mask on again—I’m supposed to relax.” The CD still played.
“Go ahead. I do not want to interrupt you. I just came for a minute to see how you were.”
Why was it that people never thought of “just a minute” as anything other than an interruption?
“Sugar…I have been thinkin’ that Jaydee and I might wait until after the baby comes to get married. I know this is a stressful time for you. I don’t want to make it more so.”
There was that tone. It said: Tell me what to do. Make me feel better.
Belinda lifted one side of the mask and peered out.
“I do not want to be the cause of any upset at this time,” said her mother.
Belinda pulled the mask off. “Mother, I have a body with a trillion cells taking part in this. It is not all about you.”
They gazed long at each other.
“You and Jaydee go ahead and get married.” She felt guilty for her impatient attitude. She wished she could quit feeling guilty.
“Well, we could do it quickly, so as not to be crowdin’ your due date, and so we can be married by the time my granddaughter arrives.”
“Good idea.”
“I hope you will be my matron of honor.” With that statement, her mother brought forth three pieces of fabric and waved them in the air. “What do you think of these colors? This one is mine, and this is for you, and this one for Marilee. She’s gonna be bridesmaid. Margaret Wyatt already has this fabric from Jean Lundy’s canceled wedding. Winston is goin’ to give me away, and…”
While her mother elaborated on plans for a wedding to take place in the astonishingly short time of two weeks, the relaxation music played in the background.
Belinda noticed that her right foot kept twitching and the baby was rollicking in her belly.
Maybe this was as relaxed as either of them was meant to get.
Nurse Betty’s clipped tone came over the telephone line. “I have the results of your blood tests yesterday.”
“Oh, yes.” A sliver of cold passed up her spi
ne.
“Your iron is good, but your sugar level indicates the beginning of gestational diabetes….”
Well, for heaven’s sake. Belinda sank down into the kitchen chair.
When she hung up after Nurse Betty’s brief instructions, she felt both relieved and dismayed. Relieved because she had thought the woman might be going to say something much worse, and dismayed as she got up and looked in the refrigerator.
Then she sat back down and rubbed her forehead. Never mind being a mother, she wasn’t certain she had what it took to get through the pregnancy.
“God, if You will, please help me.” A whisper.
Only believe.
Oh, she wanted to!
She peered out the window over the kitchen sink into the darkness. Light flowing from the garage window made a patch on the ground. She could faintly hear the music from the old radio that Lyle listened to.
He would not tell her what he was working on. For the baby, surely. Likely a cradle. He had told her to choose whatever crib and other things that she wanted, but not to get a cradle. Why didn’t he just tell her what he was making?
Belinda was, as her mother had been, a little mystified about Lyle using a power saw. She had not even known he owned one, nor that he had the notion or ability to make something. He did have a workbench, but in all the years they had been together the only thing she had ever seen him use it for was to assemble weight-lifting equipment.
It was amazing what two people who lived together, shared a bed together and made a baby together did not know about each other. It was thought provoking that really knowing each other had absolutely nothing to do with those three things.
What did it have to do with? she wondered.
Emma called while Belinda was in the tub, soaking in bubbles. “I’m givin’ you a baby shower—me and Gracie and Marilee. They wanted it to be a surprise, but I said we could never keep it from you, and besides, I know you hate surprises.”
Little Town, Great Big Life Page 20