I Love You, Jilly Sanders

by Cindy Lou Daniels

  “I’ll walk back to town—”

  “Oh my God!” Jilly cried, interrupting Tage. “What if she has the baby? I don’t know what to do! You can’t leave me here alone!” She felt the insane urge to run fast and hard, away from the house, away from Gwen and Tage, and away from any notion of family she’d ever had.

  “Look,” Gwen said, her voice reasonable, “let’s wait until Otto and Cat get here and then we’ll decide if you two can make it back to town to get some help. If you can’t, I’m sure Cat’ll know what to do, and maybe Otto, too. He used to farm; he must have helped cows or something give birth before.” She blinked, then added, “Besides, nobody at the commune went to the hospital to give birth.”

  “You’re not a cow,” Jilly said flatly, “and just because nobody at the commune went to the hospital, doesn’t mean that you don’t have to!” It had only taken a moment for her to realize she wouldn’t run anyplace. Families ought to know enough to stick together no matter what. Her problem was that she hadn’t ever learned that; she had to experience the sensation for herself.

  “I only meant that I’d—seen—babies being born before,” Gwen said. She lifted the second layer of cake onto the first. “And I’m glad you noticed I wasn’t a cow.”

  “It’s not funny,” Jilly said. “We don’t know what to do!” She looked over at Tage, renewed panic swirling like hot milk in her stomach. “Do you?”

  Tage shook his head. “But she’s right,” he said. “We can’t leave her here alone. And if it comes down to the wire, it would be better if both of us were here in case Cat and Otto can’t make it home.”

  “Don’t even say such a thing!” Jilly demanded. Her emotions were rocketing between despair and fear and love. She longed for the calm she’d felt only a moment ago. She looked at Gwen, who sat at the table calmly frosting the sides of the cake. “What are you doing?” She stood up and resisted the urge to wring her hands together. “You should be in bed! You should—you should—” She cast about in her mind for something concrete. “You should take off your underwear!”

  Jilly’s mental image of the baby trapped in Gwen’s underwear was not at all funny and she considered strangling Gwen when she heard distinctly un-fairy-like laughter snort out of her nose.

  Jilly shot her a look of pure venom.

  “I’m sorry,” Gwen said contritely. “Really. I’ll make certain I take off my underwear in plenty of time.” She dipped her finger into the empty frosting bowl and slid it along the side. She popped the captured frosting into her mouth. Jilly’s panic seemed to calm her down. “Want some?” she asked, tilting the bowl toward Jilly.

  Jilly’s growl of exasperation made her meekly get up and put the bowl in the sink.

  “Have you guys drawn some water?” Tage asked, breaking the sudden silence. “We should fill up whatever jugs you have on hand. They say we’re going to lose power for sure.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Gwen said. “Let me see what we have.”

  “I’ll look,” Jilly ordered. “You sit down.” What if the baby dropped right out of her? Oh, God! There were times when an imagination was a curse!

  “Honey,” Gwen said, “I’m fine right now. And it helps a bit to move around and do something other than think about the cramps, okay?”

  “But what if the baby—” She hesitated and darted a quick look at Tage. She moved in to flutter near Gwen and whispered into her ear, “Maybe you better leave your underwear on for a while.”

  Gwen wrinkled her brow. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Why?”

  “If the baby falls out, they could catch it.” The look on Gwen’s face alarmed her. She thought Gwen might be on the verge of choking.

  “If it were that easy to have a baby,” Gwen told her, “everybody would be having one.” She reached into the overhead cupboard and pulled down a plastic pitcher. “Try not to worry, okay? I promise I won’t do anything to hurt this baby.”

  Despite the sinking sensation rocking in the bottom of her belly, there was nothing Jilly could do except agree and silently pray Otto and Cat were even now reaching the turn-off toward the house. This business of family was tougher than she’d realized.

  *

  The weather kept up a steady patter of raindrops the size of coins and the temperature hovered right around twenty-eight degrees, so wherever the rain landed it turned to ice and adhered. By early evening the windows of the old farm house froze over and Jilly had to open the front door to peer outside, still praying she’d see Cat and Otto walking up the driveway.

  But she only saw a slick coating of ice that reflected beautifully from the under-base of white snow. She leaned her forehead against the edge of the door and closed her eyes momentarily. Her skin literally tingled with nerves and she felt like throwing up. In vivid technicolor, she recalled the scene from Gone With the Wind; Prissy’s scared face and shivering voice had been perfect: I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ no babies! Jilly knew exactly how poor Prissy felt.

  She felt Tage’s hand on her shoulder and she turned around to face him, leaning into his chest for a supportive hug. “What are we going to do?” she asked, her voice muffled by the cloth of his shirt.

  Tage didn’t answer her, but she felt his muscles tense beneath her fingers.

  Gwen had finally Thank You God! gone upstairs to bed, and Tage and Jilly took turns checking in to see if she needed anything. Jilly resolutely straightened her shoulders and pulled away from Tage. “We better go check on her,” she said.

  Gwen’s smile faltered a bit when they walked into the room. “Still no sign of them?” she asked.

  Jilly shook her head. She sat down at the foot of the bed and gave Gwen’s toes a little squeeze. She knew if she was this terrified, Gwen’s fear had to be tenfold.

  Gwen drew her knees up as a pain caught her unaware. When she relaxed a minute later she said, “I’m sorry, you guys. I know you’re scared.” She rubbed a hand along her stomach. It looked hard and swollen, like an over-ripe tomato ready to split open. “Cripes! I should have sent you both after Cat and Otto.”

  Tage shook his head. “We wouldn’t have gone,” he told her. He paced back and forth in the limited area in front of the bed. Then he stopped and looked at Gwen. “Do you know what to do?” he asked faintly. “I mean—” He swallowed and

  Jilly saw his Adam’s apple bob— “I don’t think Cat and Otto are going to make it back tonight. And if they don’t—well—can you tell Jilly and me what to do?”

  Jilly’s heartbeat felt like horse’s hooves clumping in her chest. She’d never been so scared in her life. Gwen could actually die out here. She pushed the morbid thought away. “Tell us,” she said. “We’ll do everything you say.”

  Gwen hesitated but nodded. “I don’t know how long it’ll take,” she told them. “Babies take hours sometimes, but I guess we’d better at least try to be prepared. Then even if Cat and Otto do come back, things will be set.” She took a deep breath. “It’s funny, but you really should boil some water. To sterilize it. We’re going to need it to wash the baby with, and maybe to wash me off if things get—murky.” She paused. “Tage, maybe you should fill the tub up with water, just in case the electricity does go off, and Jilly . . . why don’t you find some of those plumbers candles, the ones like we used in your pumpkin.” She leaned back and closed her eyes, but then she said, “Find a pair of scissors, too, and some heavy string. There might be some down in the junk drawer in the kitchen.”

  She opened her eyes and gasped. “I guess you better bring in some towels, too. My water just broke.”

  Jilly lurched off the bed. “What’s that mean?”

  “Cripes!” Gwen gasped. She eased her way off the bed. “What a mess!”

  Jilly stared at the mattress. A large wet spot circled out and trailed over toward Gwen.

  “Tage, I think there’s an old quilt in the cabinet in the bathroom. Why don’t you bring that here and we’ll spread it out on the bed.”

  After he le
ft, Gwen smiled sadly at Jilly. “I’m sorry, honey. I know you’re worried.” She reached out and patted Jilly’s hip. “We’ll do the best we can, okay? There’s not much we can do to stop the baby once it decides to come anyway.”

  But Jilly knew there were a thousand things that could wrong.

  “After you find that other stuff, why don’t you braid my hair for me?” Gwen suggested. At Jilly’s dumbfounded look she added, “I don’t want it to get snarled up when I go into hard labor.”

  Tage brought the blanket in and Gwen stood up. Thankful for something concrete to do, Jilly pulled the wet sheets from the bed, so Tage could spread the blanket out.

  “One more thing,” Gwen told them, her voice firm. “I don’t want either one of you to panic if I start to yell later. Screaming is part of labor, and it hurts more to keep it in than to let it out.” She crawled back into bed and settled herself against the pillows. She smiled at them, her face strangely serene. “Go ahead and find that stuff,” she said gently. “We’ll all pretend we got parts in a hot movie, okay?”

  Jilly and Tage went to their tasks, but Jilly never felt less like smiling in her life. Please God, she thought, I know I’m always bargaining with you, offering You something in exchange for something else, but right now I don’t have anything worth swapping for what I’m asking, so could You just be here with us, please?

  For some reason, the brief prayer steadied her nerves, and after she brought the scissors, the twine, and the candles into Gwen’s room, she went to get the brush and a couple rubber bands.

  She sat down on the bed and Gwen scooted forward. “Do you want two Indian-style braids, or one long one down the back?”

  “I think two,” Gwen said.

  Jilly parted Gwen’s soft cream-colored hair with her fingers and drew the brush down its length before she separated the strands to begin braiding. Gwen’s hair felt strong and resilient in her hands.

  “Jilly, I know you don’t want to,” Gwen began, “but if you have to, I want you to deliver the baby. Tage shouldn’t do that,” she said. “Men . . . well . . . I just don’t think they have what is necessary to do the job, unless they’ve been trained to do so. So . . . if Cat’s not back, it’s going to have to be you, because I’m not going

  to be able to do it myself.”

  Gwen’s shoulders tensed and she kept her back firmly in place, not looking at Jilly’s face. Jilly’s hands trembled as she secured the rubber band around the end of the first braid and began the second one.

  “It’s messy,” Gwen told her. “You’ll have to be down between my legs to catch the baby when it comes out. There’s going to be blood on me, and there’s going to be blood on the baby, too.”

  Jilly’s hands faltered and she had to start braiding all over again.

  “That’s all normal,” Gwen said. “Once the baby’s out, make sure it’s breathing, okay?”

  “How?” Jilly asked. This was no time to be squeamish.

  “It might start crying on its own, and you’ll know its breathing, but if not, try rubbing the bottom of its feet.” Gwen turned and looked at her. “I want you to do everything to make sure the baby is safe first, you hear me? I don’t care what’s happening with me, and I don’t want you to think about me, either, not until you’re sure the baby’s all right.”

  Jilly hung onto the end of Gwen’s second braid, unable to complete the task of twisting the rubber band around its end.

  Gwen took the rubber band from her and smiled. “I really don’t think anything is going to go wrong.” She snapped the rubber band around her hair. “I’ll probably be yelling orders right up until you guys put the baby in my arms,” she teased. “But just in case, okay? Promise?”

  Even as her mouth dried up with reluctance, Jilly nodded. How could she not?

  “Thank you, Jilly,” Gwen said. “One of the luckiest days in my life was the day I met you. And today is going to be one of the luckiest, too. I know it is.”

  Jilly refused to think about luck.

  Tage came into the room and Jilly scooted off the bed. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  “Sure,” Gwen said. “I’m going to try to rest for a while. Having a baby is tiring work. Why don’t you two go get a drink or something? I’ll yell if I need you.”

  She settled back again and closed her eyes. Jilly thought she didn’t look so much like a fairy anymore; tonight Gwen reminded her of the Madonna, her head tilted down and the dark curve of her crescent lashes resting against the pain the world inflicted on humans.

  Chapter XVI.

  Otto and Cat had still not arrived by twelve-thirty, the freezing rain was still falling, and Gwen’s screams were reverberating through the house at a rate of what seemed like one every three minutes.

  “Cripes! I’m sorry,” she gasped out after every cry. “I can’t help it!”

  All three of them were on the bed together; Tage behind Gwen’s head and shoulders, Jilly kneeling at her feet. Tage offered Gwen his hands to squeeze, and she grabbed hold of them as though they were ropes.

  “Don’t worry about yelling,” Jilly told her, even though her heart felt like it was splintering every time Gwen screamed. What had Scarlett said to Melly when Melly was giving birth? “Yell all you want,” Jilly told Gwen. “There’s nobody around except us to hear your screams.”

  In Scarlett’s case, that was because the Yankees were coming. In Jilly’s case, there was no one about because of the ice accumulating outside. She looked at the clock: it read one-twenty. How could time disappear like that? she wondered. Everything was happening much, much too quickly!

  “I’ve got to push,” Gwen gasped. “I can feel it!”

  Jilly’s heart felt like some impish devil decided to drop-kick it out of her chest. “What do I do?”

  “Get down there,” Gwen ordered, her face turning purple with effort as she tried to talk and push at the same time. “Can you see the baby?”

  Jilly scrunched down and looked closely. Right smack dab between Gwen’s legs she saw the top of the baby’s head. Unbelievably, she saw its hair, dark and glossy.

  At that moment, the lights flickered and went out.

  “Oh my God!” Jilly gasped. “Tage, light the candles. You’ve got to light the candles!” She heard the scrape of a match and saw the fizz of flame. She caught a glimpse of Tage’s face in the orange glow; he looked rather like he wished he were dead.

  Jilly smiled grimly. “Don’t worry,” she said. She wasn’t sure if she was talking to Gwen or Tage or herself. Maybe all three. “We’re going to do this.”

  The candlelight was inadequate to the situation, but there was no stopping Gwen.

  “I’ve got to push again!”

  And she did.

  Jilly peered down and saw the crown of the baby’s head swell outward, and just when she thought Gwen would tear apart, the baby’s entire head slid out.

  Its little face was turned sideways, and to Jilly’s awe and wonder she saw its eyes were open. The baby blinked.

  “Holy shit!” she gasped.

  “What?” Tage asked, his voice wavering up high.

  “The baby’s head is out and its looking around!”

  “What!” Tage said again, but there was no time to explain.

  Gwen pushed again, a mighty spine-crunching effort, and the shoulders slid out, followed by the rest of the baby. It drew its tiny legs up against its chest until it looked like a fresh little acorn curled up between Gwen’s legs.

  A gross little acorn, Jilly couldn’t help but think, covered with blood and some sort of white crud. As if in response to her unintended insult, the baby opened its mouth and let out a loud quivering cry.

  “Is it okay?” Gwen asked, struggling to rise up on her elbows. “Is it okay?”

  Jilly had no idea. Gingerly, like reaching into a fragile eggshell to pluck out a baby chick, she picked up the baby. A cord ran from its tiny belly straight into Gwen.

  “She’s a girl,” Jilly told them. “
But she’s—she’s still connected to you.” She sounded rather horrified, even to herself.

  Gwen’s startled laughter was cut off by another groan and Jilly saw something heavy and purple slide out of Gwen.

  “Oh, now that’s just gross!” Jilly said, pulling her head back and making a helpless face of disgust.

  Gwen laughed weakly. “Stop it,” she said. “You’re killing me.”

  Jilly peered at her over the baby she still held in her arms. “This is no time to be laughing. What do I do?”

  In between giggles, Gwen told her to tie off the umbilical cord with a piece of the string about two inches above the baby’s navel. “Now cut it on the other side,” she directed.

  “Oh my God!” Jilly said. “Do I have to?” She was picking on Gwen now, reveling in the return of Gwen’s fairy-laugher, her own joy and excitement so strong she thought she might be levitating above the bed.

  She put the baby down beside Gwen’s leg, tied and clipped the cord with shaking hands, and picked up the baby, gunk and all, and handed her to Gwen. Gwen’s arms crooked around the infant protectively.

  Jilly stared down between Gwen’s legs. “What do I do with that thing?” she asked.

  “That’s the placenta,” Tage said.

  “Oh sure,” Jilly said. “Now you’re the expert!”

  Gwen laughed again, but tears streamed down her face as she looked at the baby.

  “Why are you crying?” Tage asked, panic surfacing in his voice. He looked over at Jilly.

  She had tears of her own on her cheeks. She brushed them away. “We’re happy,” she told him.

  Tage looked stupefied.

  “Never mind,” Jilly told him. “What do we do now?” she asked Gwen.

  “Wrap the afterbirth up in a towel for now, and we better heat up a little water to wash the baby.” She tore her gaze away from the baby. “You two were wonderful!” she said. “How am I ever going to thank you?”

  “That depends,” Jilly said. She cocked her head at Gwen. “Are you done screaming?”

  “Yup,” Gwen said.