Piper, Once & Again

by Caroline E. Zani

  “Hoooo,” she said in a low voice, quietly reaching for her reins just in case he decided to spin and bolt. She scratched his withers knowing this calmed him.

  “Easy buddy, there’s nothing there, walk on.” For the first time since she owned him, he refused her commands. She clucked her tongue and gave him a reassuring squeeze with her legs to move him forward. His breathing quickened as he lowered his head, nostrils flaring. He let out a squeal and lashed out with one foreleg. He took one small step backward, spun, and reared. His 1600 pounds of muscle came down hard and jolted Piper, but she sat firmly and calmly, now glad to have her saddle beneath her and now wishing that she had her helmet, too. She instinctively found her stirrups again and pulled him around in a circle to avoid plunging back down the steep hill they’d just come up.

  “Hoooo, easy Valo; there’s nothing there,” she said, but, at the same time, she wasn’t so sure. She decided it best to dismount and lead him if he was that frightened. She swung her right leg over the front of her saddle and slid down all 17.2 hands to the ground. He immediately craned his neck as if to see why on earth she had done that and to say, “Aren’t we getting out of here?”

  This time she lifted the reins over his head and tried to lead him forward. He shifted his weight onto his hindquarters and pulled his head straight up, the whites of his eyes clearly begging her not to force him, as if she really could. She caught the scent of burning wood mingled with something sickening; she had a glimpse of dirt falling onto a small white blanket; sadness and a chill ran through her. She shivered in the warm air and drew a deep breath, trying to steady herself and her horse, who she knew, could easily drag her wherever he felt the need, a horse’s self-preservation was no match for even the best training.

  As quickly as the scent-ache came, it was gone, and Piper noticed Valo visibly relax, chew on his bit as horses do when they are comfortable, with his ears pointing in no particular direction, his head low by her side. She asked him, “Are you done with this nonsense?” not really believing it to be any such thing.

  It occurred to her then that scent-aches had never happened to her around her horses. She wondered if Valo had picked up on it, too, or just felt a change in her and reacted to it. She shrugged the thought off and remounted, thinking that at least one of her legs was getting a good workout. Knowing that horses have memories better than even the most deeply scorned woman, she felt the need to force him to walk past the spot at which he had first faltered, so that the next time they reached this spot he wouldn’t spook just because it was what he had done on this ride. He lowered his head as they approached and walked right on past the soil and leaves he had just moments before kicked up. She rode on down the trail toward Mr. Boudreau’s house but decided she wouldn’t stop today. She had forgotten his gift at the house in her haste to escape the quarrel that had ignited in the breakfast nook. She turned Valo out to the road and took the long way home, trotting most of way, loving the sound of horseshoes on pavement, slowing only a few times to let onlookers get an eyeful.

  HER BELLY WAS SO BIG and she so uncomfortable, that getting out of bed was just too difficult. Vander brought her the tea she had brewed earlier that day and some day-old bread but she refused to eat.

  “My Love, you need to eat, for the baby.”

  She gave him a look that made him close his mouth, put the bread and tea aside, and let her be. He went out to feed the animals for the evening, noticing that the light hadn’t faded even at this late hour. Spring was fast approaching, and soon the planting season would be here. And so would their baby, finally.

  Piper stuffed Vander’s pillow on top of hers which was propping her up in the bed. She rubbed her belly and wondered if she was going to be able to get this baby out of her, as it seemed utterly impossible. The baby moved inside her, and she marveled at what must have been its head pressing so hard against her insides that her entire belly shifted in one direction. She drew in a sharp breath; then, pressing back, she pleaded with her baby to take a nap, for she was tired and wanted rest. She sipped the tea but left the bread untouched, her appetite having disappeared earlier in the week when the pains started.

  She was scared and wanted her mother-in-law to be with her, but she wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to bring the sickness to her son’s home. She said that as soon as she was feeling well, she would pack some clothing and come to stay until the baby arrived. Piper was terrified that the baby would come before then, but on this day, she didn’t much care who was or wasn’t there; she wanted this baby in her arms, not her belly. Her back ached, she couldn’t sleep, and she knew she was being unkind to Vander with her remarks and her foul mood. Her mother-in-law had told her months before that all of this was to be expected and that she shouldn’t feel badly for telling the man who put her in this state exactly how it felt to bear his child. Piper smiled when she remembered this conversation. It was a milestone in her life as it marked the first time she shared a bond with another woman simply because she was a woman.

  Piper closed her eyes and thought about her own mother and how she wished she could be with her now; she needed her so. Imagining how her mother felt at this stage of pregnancy made her feel courageous and fully capable of doing what God designed her body to do. When she was young and her mother was still well, she had told Piper of her grandmother and her grandmother before her and how life goes on and changes, and how girls grow into women, have babies of their own, and then one day they go back to Heaven to watch over all of their grandchildren and great-grandchildren. This made little sense to a six-year-old who couldn’t imagine her mother ever leaving her to go up into the sky and leave her with only a father and brother, not knowing that in just two years it would be her reality. But now, as she prepared to give birth herself, she could see with great clarity that she belonged to all the women who came before her, and that she was simply doing what they had done—bring their children into the world.

  Imagining them watching over her gave her strength and vigor. She rolled her swollen body off the bed, and brought her empty tea cup and bread out to the hearth where Vander had left her a handful of purple and yellow crocuses in a glass of water. She smiled when she heard him approach the dooryard: the hens, like guard dogs, squawked and scrambled whenever someone was near. The look of surprise on his face to see his wife up and about was enough to put her in a better, lighter mood.

  “Thank you for the flowers,” she said and smiled.

  He nodded and looked at her protruding belly with nervous wonder.

  As she stepped toward him, she felt a warm gush of water soak her legs, and she stopped, frightened by the suddenness of it. Vander’s face went white, and he, too, froze in place. With much anxiety she looked down at the water on the floor and lifted her nightdress as if to see where it could possibly be coming from. She looked slowly back up at her pale husband.

  “Go! Get your mother, now! Now Vander, ride as fast as you can, I need her!”

  Vander stood for what seemed like years to Piper before he could comprehend what this all meant. “The baby?” he asked still clearly in shock.

  “Yes! The baby is coming, hurry!”

  Vander hurried out the door and into the darkening night toward the stable yard. He hitched his team up with confused fingers, seemingly having forgotten how to do what they’d done effortlessly for years.

  When the horses thundered past the house, Piper shouted from the door yard, “Hurry, Vander, there’s not much time.”

  He didn’t hear or see her, being focused on the path ahead, and the long ride to the village. A few strides into the woods, he began to wonder if maybe he should go back and do whatever needed doing himself. But quickly he realized that he knew nothing about birthing babies. Since he was a child, he had helped the ewes and the sows and the mares plenty of times, but this was his wife and his firstborn child. He was certain his mother could take care of everything if only he could get her there in time.

  His horses’ stamina was nev
er a concern to Vander, be it out in the fields, the forests, or at the shore. What concerned him now was the lack of light in the woods. He knew the short trail well, as did his animals; but there always seemed to be an obstacle that needed clearing. Branches fell, and rocks were washed free from hillsides. He prayed aloud that God would deliver him to his mother safely so that she could deliver his child.

  When finally he arrived at his boyhood home, he was out of breath, having held it through most of the ride. The horses hadn’t yet completely halted when he jumped off the cart and fell forward to the ground. Landing in a painful heap, he yelled to his parents. “Mère! Père! The baby! The baby is on its way! Mère! Piper needs you, Mère!”

  His father opened the door with a look of concern and surprise as he caught his stumbling son by the shoulders. “Garcon, calm down, it’ll be fine. I’ll get your Mère.”

  “Hurry, Père, there’s not much time!” He jumped back into the cart and pulled his horses around, wanting to offer them water but knowing that they still had the ride back and he couldn’t give them water while they were lathered and hot. He steadied them, and when his parents approached, he reached down and hauled his mother up into the bed of the cart, her nose red from sneezing, but her smile relaying her excitement.

  Next Vander reached for his father’s arm and realized then that his father was not the young sinewy and agile man he grew up with. Philip’s arms were thin and soft, and, when Vander pulled him into the cart, he heard his father groan with pain. “Père?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’m, fine, son, just getting on in years is all.”

  Vander swallowed hard and realized what was about to happen. He was going to be a father, like his father, and his father before him. The night air stung his eyes as he called to his faithful team to get on, to take them home, their only light the blessed full moon guiding them into their future.

  Shortly after Vander vanished from sight, Piper put some water on the hearth to boil as her mother-in-law had months before instructed her. Then she went to the bedchamber to try to calm herself. She looked at the bed linens and wondered if they would ever look the same after the birth. Just then the pains began, making her lean forward, holding her belly and crying out into the empty night.

  “God help me. Mère, what do I do? I need you!” She lay on the bed as the pain passed, making her feel calmer.

  “Oh, now, little one, hold on, please. Wait for your father and grandmother.”

  A few minutes later, the pain returned to sear her insides again and later that night she would try deciding which was worse, the pain or the fear of being alone.

  The pains crashed and retreated in waves as she lay sweating on the bed in the mid-April night. She prayed aloud to every saint she knew and asked God’s forgiveness for all the transgressions she could remember from childhood right up to giving her husband a nasty glance when he told her she must eat for the baby’s sake.

  “St. Christopher, help Vander come back safely and quickly. Mother Mary, I need you. Please take this pain from me! St. Monica! Help me!”

  She wanted to make a deal with God if He would just listen to her pleas.

  “Please God, let Vander and Mère be here soon. I’ll do anything, anything you want. I’ll give my children the best life I can; I will be generous in the market and give extra to those in need.”

  She took a sharp breath as the pains came and a guttural scream escaped her, so primal and fierce that it scared her.

  “I’ll learn to be patient, I promise. This time I mean to do it, to be patient and listen and watch before I act. I promi—”

  The pain tore through her and she bit the side of her hand as she bore down and began to push.

  “No!!!” she screamed, “Not now, not yet!” She writhed on the bed, twisting and kneading the bed linens in her agony.

  As the pains subsided for shorter and shorter intervals, her breath came faster and she could feel her heart beating like the hooves of Vander’s horses, louder and faster until finally she realized that’s what she was hearing. “Vander, hurry!” she pushed her head back against the pillows and tried to escape from the pain. In through the door came Vander and his parents. She lightened at the familiar sound of Vander dragging one boot heel every other step. She wanted to scream that he ought to be running! He stopped outside the door to the bedchamber. Vander’s mother shoved the men aside and ran to her daughter–in-law, bent and brushed the sweaty hair from her flushed face.

  “I’m here, Love. Everything will be fine, don’t fret.”

  “Philip, bring me a knife from the hearth. Vander, the water—now!”

  Piper raised herself up on her elbows. “A knife!”

  “Oh no, sweet girl. It’s for the life cord. It needs to be cut once the baby comes. Lay back.”

  Another pain came, and Vander nearly dropped the pot of boiling water as he jumped and craned his neck around to see where the blood-boiling scream came from.

  “Piper?” his indigo eyes wide. Philip recognized the fear. He thought of the many boy soldiers he had been in battle with—some at his side and some at the other end of his weapon. He put his hand on his son’s broad back, assuring him he knew just how he felt.

  “It’s the way it is, son. She’s just doing her job, like the mares in the field and the cats in the loft, and it’s not an easy one. You will cherish your wife for her strength and never forget that she endured this for you, for your lineage, your blood.”

  Vander looked into his father’s eyes and for the first time in his life, saw tears there.

  “The water, boys, the water, now!” reminded Vander’s mother as she looked under the bed linens and assured Piper that it wouldn’t be long now. The men stood looking at one another as if they wished she had named the other specifically, each so he would not have to enter the birthing room.

  Vander’s trance broken by the pitch of his wife’s voice and the words that escaped her. “Vander! Now!”

  He hurried into the bedchamber with blankets over his shoulder and carrying the pot of steaming water, which he placed on the floorboards at the foot of the bed. He saw blood and the crown of his child’s head and everything turned black behind his eyes.

  “Philip, come take your son before he falls, and I have three patients to take care of.”

  Vander righted himself and went back to the hearth, pale, looking like a scolded, exhausted child, but feeling relieved.

  With one final push, Piper delivered a scream into the night air and her daughter into her mother-in-law’s hands.

  “A girl, Piper, a perfect little girl, look.” She lifted the baby for Piper to see. She reached out for the newborn, but her mother-in-law said there was still work to be done. After washing the knife in the hot water she cut the cord, tying it off with a piece of boiled yarn. She handed the wailing babe to Philip who smiled down at his granddaughter and wrapped her in a warm blanket. He took her out to the hearth where Vander could be heard crying, holding his long-awaited gift in his arms. Once the afterbirth was delivered whole and Piper was out of danger, Vander brought to her their perfect angel, whom they named for her mother, Peyrinne.

  Together the family welcomed their newest edition with much love and hope, and they wished to celebrate. Philip called for a drink to toast the happy occasion and went to the hearth to see what could be found. Vander followed, saying he had saved ingredients from the Christmas celebrations for just this occasion. Into a clean pot he tossed the dried peels of their Christmas oranges, together with almonds, cinnamon, cardamom, and cloves from the market, some water, and lots of red wine. He looked into all the small pottery bowls above the hearth, knocking over more than one, eliciting concerned inquiries from both his mother and wife. With shaking hands he found the proper bowl and smiled at the feel of the soft raisins he had held over from the summer’s grapes. He turned the bowl upside down over the pot and when nothing came out, he began to turn it back over to see what the problem was. As he did the sticky mass of raisins tumbled
out, most hitting the mark and splashing the potent liquid upwards, sending it spattering onto the stove. Some, however, fell unseen, behind the pot onto the hot surface.

  He let the brew simmer as he had been instructed at Christmastime by Piper’s father, who had shared this recipe his wife taught him years before. The men stepped out into the chilled air and at the same time exhaled their tension. They both laughed, feeling more relaxed now. They went to the smokehouse to take a hog leg down to cook for the tired and happy family.

  When they reentered the warm house the smell of glöggi filled their noses. They each inhaled deeply. Vander frowned.

  His wife called from her bed, “What is that horrible smell?” He looked around the stove to see if he could find what was amiss and saw the sticky mass of melted raisins bubbling next to and underneath the pot.

  “A few raisins, Love, that’s all. I didn’t know raisins could smell like that!”

  They all giggled at his boyishness as he rubbed his nose nervously.

  Philip washed handfuls of potatoes and carrots and placed them in a pan with the hog leg and a few small onions, and set them to cook on the stove next to the winter drink. And into the night they celebrated the birth of Vander and Piper’s first child, the child that would forever change the way they looked at the world.

  Chapter 17

  WELL, SWEETHEART, it’s almost here.” Piper looked at her husband with anticipation.

  “I can’t believe it. Can you?” he responded.

  The vineyard was now in its third season, the five-year-old Vidal vines having been personally delivered by Mr. Porrazzo and his wife, six months after the young couple’s visit to France. Piper and Paul used their true first crop as a “starter” with which to learn and experiment. They built a separate barn on the property to house the winery and all their winemaking equipment and office.