Welcome to the World, Baby Girl!

by Fannie Flagg

  “About sixty-seven.”

  At this point Dena was wondering how fast she could get out of there and back to New York.

  “That meal was something, wasn’t it, Norma?”

  “Oh, yes. A fine Italian restaurant. Gitto’s.”

  “I’ll never forget it. Tell Baby Girl what all we had.”

  “I had the chopped sirloin and onions … mashed potatoes, spinach, creamed squash on the side. Mary Grace had fish with nuts sprinkled on top … trout almondine.”

  “That’s right,” Aunt Elner agreed. “She had fish with the head still on it. And it was looking in my direction. I made her turn it around the other way. For those prices they could have taken the head off, but that’s how the Continentals do it.”

  “Yes, and you ordered liver and onions.” Norma looked at Dena, who was still bewildered. “Here she had a chance to eat anything in the world and she orders liver and onions.”

  “Well, I like liver and onions. How long are you going to be here, Baby Girl?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “I tell you what. Norma, you and Macky ought to take a trip up to St. Louis while she’s here and take her to Gitto’s for dinner. I wouldn’t mind going back up there, would you?”

  “Honey, Baby Girl lives in New York City and I’m sure she has been to plenty of nice restaurants, she doesn’t need to go traipsing all the way up to St. Louis to eat a meal.”

  “Verbena said she and Merle ate out at that new pancake house on the highway and said they got a good meal; maybe we could go there?”

  “It’s up to Baby Girl; wherever she wants to go is fine with us.”

  “Well, if you like pancakes, Verbena says this place is the last word.”

  After they got back to Norma’s, Dena said casually, “You know, I think I really would like to see those fishing things. Is the hardware store hard to find?”

  Norma laughed. “No, downtown is only a block, you can’t miss it. It’s right past the flower shop. Do you want me to drive you?”

  “No, I’ll walk, thanks.”

  The real reason she wanted to go downtown was not to look at fishing lures. She wanted to get to a phone. As soon as she turned the corner she went into the Rexall drugstore and called her agent in New York.

  “Mr. Cooper, you have a collect call from Dena Nordstrom; will you accept?”

  “Yes, put her on. Hello! How are you feeling? Are you getting some rest?”

  “Get me out of here.”

  “What?”

  “I want you to get me out of here as soon as possible.”

  “You don’t have to go back to work for a couple of weeks.”

  “I don’t care, just get me out of here, now.”

  When she hung up and came out of the booth, several people were waiting to say hello to her and to say how glad they were to see her home. In a moment she walked by a place that seemed vaguely familiar. At least it smelled familiar. It was the bakery they said her grandparents used to own, still called Nordstrom’s Swedish bakery even though there were new owners. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered inside but nothing looked familiar. It was odd to walk down the street; people kept coming out of the stores and greeting her as if they were old friends. People she had never seen before in her life. Everybody knew who she was but when they spoke to her the older ones referred to her as Gene’s daughter, and the younger ones as Norma’s cousin or Aunt Elner’s niece. It was the first time in her life she had ever been referred to as anything but Dena Nordstrom.

  People kept stopping her and telling her about how they had grown up with her father, or that he had once been their paper boy and what a fine fellow he was. It seemed everybody had a tale about her father or her grandparents they wanted her to hear. Finally, what seemed like hours later, she reached the hardware store.

  Soon, Macky had shown her all his fishing flies, and explained each one by name and what fish it was used to catch. She said, “Macky, did you know my father?”

  He nodded. “Very well. And your grandparents. Fine people.”

  Today, she had been pleasantly surprised. Elmwood Springs was a really nice little town and all the people who had come up to her seemed very friendly. She suddenly began to wonder what it was that had caused her mother to move away. What had happened?

  Even though everybody had wanted to tell her about her father or grandparents or talk about how they used to come into the bakery and see her sitting up on the counter when she was little, no one mentioned her mother. It was almost as if her mother had never been there.

  After dinner Norma got out her father’s high school yearbooks and all his pictures in an album, but again there was not one picture of her mother.

  The next morning at breakfast Dena said, “Norma, what did you know about my mother?”

  Norma was caught off guard for a moment. Dena had never brought up the subject before. “Well, Baby Girl, not much. What would you like to know?”

  “Oh, what she was like when she was here and things like that.”

  Norma put a plate in the dishwasher and closed it and sat down across from Dena. “Well, I can only tell you what I know. I was in high school, I guess … or maybe I had graduated by then. But I certainly remember her. But you know, she wasn’t here all that long, and she stayed mostly to herself. I do remember we would go up to Aunt Gerta’s house to see you and she was always so proud of you, bought you all kinds of toys.”

  “Did you like her?”

  “Oh, yes, very much. But don’t forget I was still young and didn’t get to know her all that well.”

  “What about Aunt Elner?”

  “Well, Aunt Elner could probably tell you more than I could. We could talk to her if you’d like.”

  “Yes, I think I would.”

  Right after breakfast they were on Aunt Elner’s porch again.

  “Aunt Elner, I wonder if you remember anything about my mother.”

  Norma said, “I’ve told Baby Girl everything I remember.”

  “Well, honey, let me sit here and tax my memory.… Lord, that was a piece ago, wasn’t it. But of course I do. I remember the first day she came here. You were just a tiny baby; we went down to the train station to meet Gene’s wife. He had written of how pretty she was, but we had no idea she was going to be that pretty. We were all standing there and here this glamorous creature steps down from the train. We almost couldn’t believe our eyes. She looked like she had stepped out of a magazine. She had on this aqua wool dress and her hair was swept up on her head and she had this little smart pancake of a hat tilted over one eye. Oh, she was a fashion plate if I ever saw one. Let’s put it this way: we had never seen anything like her in Elmwood Springs. Beautiful red hair, and that creamy white skin, and those green eyes—you got Gene’s eyes but you got your mother’s figure. She was tall and I remember her posture, she held herself just like a queen.” She chuckled. “To tell you the truth, I was embarrassed; here we were, her new family, and me so big and fat, wearing a homemade housedress and my old black tie-up shoes, I just wanted to hide. But she recognized us and we were all anxious to get a look at you; you were Gene’s baby, you sort of broke the ice. And when we saw you we were all tickled to death. You couldn’t miss you were Gene’s baby, all right, with that towhead of white hair and those big blue eyes. She had you dressed in the cutest baby outfit, a little pink dress with lace, and she had a big pink bow tied around your head. You looked like one of those baby dolls that Norma had gotten for Christmas, didn’t she, Norma?”

  “You did, you were the cutest thing.”

  Dena said, “How did she seem?”

  “If anything, she was shy, she wouldn’t let anyone take her picture. I said as pretty as you were, you needed to have your picture made—but she wouldn’t.”

  “Did she seem unfriendly?”

  “Oh, no, she was very sweet and soft-spoken … but sort of reserved, wouldn’t you say, Norma?”

  “Yes, I guess you could say that. Not that
she wasn’t perfectly friendly, mind you.”

  Aunt Elner agreed. “No, she was perfectly friendly and pleasant but you could tell right away that she was not one of those flighty young girls that some of the boys brought home. Not only was your mother pretty, she was refined and well spoken, and she wrote with a beautiful hand. Well educated and from a good family but she never talked about them and we never asked. We didn’t want to open a sore spot, we thought if she wanted to talk about it she would, and after losing her entire family in a fire, then to lose Gene … I don’t know how she lived through it. Do you, Norma?”

  “No, I kept thinking that she would talk about it but she never did the whole time she was here.”

  “It must have been terrible for her, a young girl like that all alone in the world, her whole family gone. I don’t know how she stood it but you could tell it had affected her, she always seemed a little sad or something. Even though she never talked about it, you could tell she never got over it.”

  “I read in the Reader’s Digest that a person that survives a tragedy goes through all kinds of guilt for being the one left alive,” Norma said. “She should have gone for some help. But back then, they didn’t have any, not like they do today. She did seem nervous, though, didn’t she, Aunt Elner?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say nervous but she always seemed a little uneasy, looking over her shoulder like something was worrying her—sort of holding her back from really letting go and having fun. You were her only joy, you were the only thing I ever saw her eyes light up over. She never showed her emotions much. She didn’t cry or at least none of us ever saw her. She got a job and just went to work every day and came home and played with you at night. Otherwise, she never went out, never saw anybody. And then one day, when you were about four, she just up and left. Packed your things, took you out of nursery school, and left. She said she wanted to get a better job and she couldn’t get one in Elmwood Springs, so she just took off and she never came back. It broke your poor grandparents’ hearts.”

  “Did you ever meet anybody she knew?” Dena asked. “Did anybody at all ever come to see her?”

  Aunt Elner thought. “No … nobody ever did. She never had anybody come and see her, nobody except that Italian man that time.”

  Norma looked at Aunt Elner. “Italian? You never told me about any Italian man.”

  “Well, I forgot. I think he was an Italian or Greek or something, some kind of foreigner. I only saw him through a screen door but he had kind of slicky hair. He walked up on the porch and knocked on the door and asked if your mother lived there and Gerta went to get her and I can tell whoever he was she didn’t like him much, she didn’t even invite him in. Your mother had impeccable manners and that was not like her, but the minute she saw him, she took him way out on the sidewalk and away from the house. I was just sitting there in the living room and I couldn’t help but look. I could see right out the screen door. Whoever he was, your mother was not happy he showed up, I can tell you that. It looked like she was mad at him. And whatever she said must have run him off because after about ten minutes he was gone. When she came back in the house you could tell that she was still upset, her face was all flushed.”

  Norma was amazed. “And she never said who he was?”

  “No.”

  “And you didn’t ask?”

  “No, Norma, I don’t poke in other people’s affairs. Just pass and repass, I always say. She didn’t volunteer and we didn’t ask.”

  “Are you sure she didn’t say anything? I can’t believe she didn’t say anything.”

  “Norma, that was some thirty years ago.”

  “Well, try and remember back.”

  “She might have said something … let me search my memory. I think she might have said, ‘I’m sorry’ … yes, that’s right, she did. Like I said, your mother had beautiful manners. I think he may have been some old boyfriend who found out that her husband had been killed and showed up trying to get her to go out with him.”

  “Did he ever come back?” Dena asked.

  “No, not to my knowledge. But your mother left town shortly after that so I haven’t any idea if he ever bothered her again or not. But you know, you can’t blame the poor fellow, she was a pretty thing.”

  Norma said, “Couldn’t you hear any thing? Did you hear what they were arguing about?”

  “Oh, I could hear them, all right, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. They were talking in a foreign language.”

  “Both of them?”

  “Well, sure, honey, you can’t have one person talking one language and the other one talking something else.”

  “What language were they speaking?”

  Aunt Elner said, “Well, now, that was the funny thing. Like I said, he looked Italian. But they were talking in German.”

  Norma was not convinced. “Aunt Elner, now, think back: Are you sure it was German? Don’t you think it might have been Italian or maybe Spanish?”

  Aunt Elner said, “No. Don’t forget your Uncle Will’s father was a Shimfessle. All he spoke was German, so I know German when I hear it. It was German, all right, that much I’m sure of.”

  “Baby Girl knew her mother spoke German, didn’t you, honey?”

  Dena said, “Oh, yes … I knew that.” Suddenly Dena began to feel anxious, and she didn’t know why she lied. She had no idea her mother had spoke German. She quickly changed the subject and did not bring it up again. The next morning a telegram arrived for her.

  AM SORRY TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR BELOVED AGENT AND SHOW BUSINESS ICON, SANDY COOPER, PASSED AWAY SUDDENLY LAST EVENING. PLEASE RETURN TO NEW YORK AT ONCE.

  JULIAN AMSLEY, NETWORK PRESIDENT

  Later that night when she got off the plane at La Guardia, Sandy said, “Well, how do I look for a dead man?”

  Dena said, “Beautiful!” and kissed him, thrilled to be back.

  One of the first things she did when she got back to her apartment was to sit down and type a letter.

  Dear Gerry,

  Thank you so much for your flowers. I know you went to a lot of trouble to bring them to me and I really do appreciate it. However, I think it would be unfair of me to keep you from pursuing a relationship with the kind of woman you deserve to be with. You are too nice a guy to lead on.

  I hope we can be friends in the future and I wish you all the best in everything you do.

  Sincerely,

  Dena Nordstrom

  Rumors

  New York City

  May 1976

  As the months went by, Dena was getting better and better interviews. Her agent, Sandy, even heard serious rumblings. They were considering moving her to a coanchor spot on the six o’clock news. But in the meantime, Ira Wallace was happy with her work. The ratings were still climbing and upstairs was pleased, too. Production costs were small compared with the budget for an hour-long drama. News shows were suddenly big business.

  Competition was heating up, too, and Dena’s interviews were getting rougher and rougher. It made her uneasy, particularly when she remembered that Howard Kingsley might be watching her.

  Pete Koski had been elected governor of his state mostly because he had been a championship football star, but after twelve years in politics he had turned out to be a respected member of his party and now there was a lot of talk about him being asked to run for president in the upcoming campaign. Ira briefed her for the interview. As soon as she sat down and saw that look on Ira’s face, she knew something was coming, and prepared herself for the worst.

  “Your Mr. Macho, hall of famer, Super Governor, has a son that’s as queer as a three-dollar bill. Got his little fairy butt kicked out of the army for playing house with some other fairy, but Koski had it fixed so it wouldn’t show up on his record. How’s that for a nice little cherry bomb to throw in?”

  “Oh, God, Ira, why won’t you let me just have one interview without trying to turn it into an ambush?”

  “It’s the truth!” Wal
lace yelled defensively. “Capello got the goddamn report out of the goddamn military files and he’s got a statement from one of his boyfriends.”

  Dena stared at him.

  “Ira, I told you before I wouldn’t work with Capello. You lied. You didn’t fire him, did you?”

  “You think I would quit working with the best son of a bitch in the business just because you don’t like him? Whata’ya think, I’m stupid? I got him outta your face, what else do you want from me? Now I’m not asking you, I’m telling you—you work for me, not Howard Kingsley, me! You ask the questions that I tell you to.”

  “What does Howard Kingsley have to do with this?”

  “Don’t play innocent with me. Everybody knows what’s been going on with you two. Who do you think you’re kidding?”

  “Ira, I hope you’re not serious. You know that’s not true.”

  “Hey, what you do is your own business. Just don’t try and con me.”

  “Ira, you are disgusting, do you know that, a disgusting pig.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m terrible. Meanwhile, your sainted governor just got caught abusing his power. He bribed the United States Army, for Christ sakes. That’s a crime, kid, so don’t get all high and mighty with me. Sit down!”

  Dena realized for the first time how utterly ruthless Ira Wallace could be. “You can’t be insulted, can you? You really don’t care what people think of you, not even me.”

  “I see people for what they are; you see them for what you wish they were but they ain’t. And I’m warning you: if you want to stay on top in this business, you better get over this Doris Day phase you’re in or these new broads are gonna kick your ass. Here, read this.” He pushed a copy of a medical discharge toward her and an army psychiatrist’s private notes.

  “See … he admits it. What more do you want?”

  Dena looked at him in disbelief. “Ira, we can’t use this. This is illegal.”

  “Oh, I know that, for Christ sakes. I just wanted you to see it, you’re always screaming about backup. So there it is—your goddamn backup.”