Vintage

by Susan Gloss

  April laughed. “You sound excited.”

  “Sorry, I guess maybe I’m living a little vicariously.”

  “Okay, yes, I’m excited,” April said. “And scared, too.”

  At the hospital, Violet insisted that they get out at the emergency room entrance. Violet handed her keys to an attendant near the door.

  “We can just park the car in the lot and go in the regular doors,” April said. “I’m pretty sure I can manage walking a few hundred feet.”

  “No way,” Violet said, finding a wheelchair near the doors and helping April into it. She wheeled April into the elevator and up to the labor and delivery floor.

  While April checked in at the reception desk, she looked around and noticed that she was the youngest person in the waiting area by at least ten years. All the other women around her were dressed in cute maternity clothes. One of the women clutched a binder labeled “Birth Plan” to her chest and barked orders at the man sitting with her, who April guessed was her very obedient husband. Another lady sat with her belly popping out of a black suit blazer, tapping away at her BlackBerry and appearing as if she were negotiating a multimillion-dollar deal from her waiting room chair.

  Where are all the teenage mothers I’m always hearing about on the news? April wondered. She would have liked to see at least one person who looked as clueless as she felt.

  Charlie arrived ten minutes later, bursting through the doors of the waiting area, where April was still waiting to be put into a triage room. “Do you really think the baby’s coming?” he asked.

  April shrugged. “That’s what the water breaking always means on TV. You don’t need to panic, though. The nurse said I probably have a little bit of time, since I’m not having contractions yet. At least I don’t think so. Anyway, she said they can do a test to tell if my water really broke or if I just peed my pants without knowing it.”

  “Can that happen?” Charlie asked.

  “I guess so. The nurse acted like it happens all the time.”

  Once April was settled into a tiny triage room, shielded from the open door by a mint-green curtain, she insisted that Violet go home.

  “It could be a long time,” April said. “And anyway, Charlie’s here now.”

  “Okay, but only if you promise you’ll call me as soon as the baby is here,” Violet said. “Or if there’s anything I can do in the meantime.”

  “We will,” April said. “Thank you for everything.”

  After Violet had gone, Charlie stood next to April’s bed, looking anxious as the nurse made April spread her legs so she could conduct some sort of litmus test with a strip of colored paper, sort of like chemistry class.

  “Yep, your water broke,” the nurse said.

  “Good, I’m glad to hear I didn’t pee my pants. I’ve lost control of a lot of my body over the last nine months, and my bladder is one of my last strongholds.”

  April was trying to lighten the mood by making a joke, but the nurse didn’t catch it. She just asked, “How far apart are your contractions? And how long are they lasting?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve had some pain, but nothing regular that I could time.” She thought back to the events of the morning and blushed. “I did, um, have sex this morning, though. Do you think that could have brought this on?”

  To April’s embarrassment, the nurse typed that information into her patient chart on the computer.

  “Orgasm can stimulate the uterus into action,” the nurse said. “Especially at this late stage of pregnancy. So, yes, it might have helped you along a little, but sex or none, this baby is ready to come out. Since you don’t seem to be having regular contractions yet, it may be a while, though.”

  “A while? Like hours?”

  “Hours or, in some cases, days.”

  Days? April prayed it wouldn’t be days. “So can I go home and come back later?” she asked.

  The nurse shook her head. “Once your water has broken, you’re at higher risk of infection. And since you had some complications earlier in your pregnancy, we’d like to keep you here to monitor you.”

  The nurse set April up in a bigger room that she referred to as a “birthing suite.” It was really just a regular hospital room with the walls painted mauve and more comfortable chairs, but April was just glad not to have to share it with anyone, especially BlackBerry Mom or Birth Plan Binder Lady.

  Charlie settled into one of the cushy chairs next to April’s bed. He squeezed her hand. “You ready for this?”

  April thought about it. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. I’m pretty sure that’s why pregnancy is the way it is. You’ve got nine months to get used to the idea of having this thing inside of you, and by the time you come to the end, you’re so damn uncomfortable that you just want it out, even if the thought of taking care of a baby terrifies you.”

  “Are you terrified?” Charlie asked.

  “All those other women in the waiting room freaked me out. They seem to have everything planned.”

  “Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my premed studies, it’s that the human body can do some pretty weird things. Even with all their planning, there’s no guarantee that everything will go the way those women want it to. The body is unpredictable.”

  April settled back onto the pillows and said, “Life is unpredictable.”

  Chapter 26

  INVENTORY ITEM: baby bonnet

  APPROXIMATE DATE: 1940s

  CONDITION: excellent

  ITEM DESCRIPTION: White linen baby bonnet with embroidered yellow ducks; trimmed with silk ribbon and white lace.

  SOURCE: farmstead estate sale

  Violet

  VIOLET WAITED FOR A phone call while she hung fur-collared wool coats on racks. She waited while she folded angora sweaters and arranged them on display tables. And she waited some more as she went through her closing routine that evening and locked up the double front doors of the bungalow.

  She needed some good news. The last few months had brought their share of bad news, and Violet figured it was about time she had something to celebrate. April and Charlie’s baby seemed like a perfect reason to do so. Waiting for the news, though, was making her crazy.

  She left the house, where she’d been working what felt like non-stop to get things set up the way she wanted them. Just for something else to do, she wandered over to Pinkus McBride’s, the neighborhood corner store, to buy a card for April. The convenience store only had a few baby-themed cards, and all of them were either pink or blue. Not knowing which to get, she picked out a plain white card that had Congratulations scripted across the front in shiny gold letters.

  “Celebrating something special?” asked the teenage clerk as he scanned the bar code on the card.

  “My intern—I mean friend—is at the hospital right now having a baby.” Violet dug in her wallet and produced a few crumpled bills.

  “Cool. You got kids?” he asked.

  Violet shook her head. “Maybe someday.”

  The clerk sized her up and gave her a skeptical look. Violet grabbed the card and left the store. She walked past James Madison Park on the way home, where barefoot, college-age kids played Frisbee in the dusk and lounged on blankets near the lakeshore. She wished she could share in their carefree enjoyment of the warm evening, probably one of the last of the year, but she had far too much on her mind.

  She walked down to the small beach at the park and stood with her toes in the pebbly sand watching a group of sailboats round a buoy halfway across Lake Mendota. A man selling ice cream bars from a pushcart yelled, “Cold treats for a hot day!” A little girl bought a red, white, and blue bomb pop, which reminded Violet of the Fourth of July, and with a pang of sadness, she thought of her and Sam’s first date. She headed home.

  When she returned to the green bungalow, Miles greeted her at the door. As she bent down to pet him, the phone rang. She answered it, full of hope that April and Charlie’s baby was finally here.

  “Hello?”


  “Is this Violet Turner?” asked a vaguely familiar voice.

  Violet sucked in her breath. “Yes.”

  “This is Ellen from Agrace Hospice, and I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Violet leaned on the countertop. “Yes?”

  “Betsy passed on this afternoon.”

  Violet heard a whooshing sound in her ears and felt light-headed. She realized she’d been holding her breath since she picked up the phone. She let it out and, as she did, tears ran down her face and splattered on the wood floor.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you such awful news,” Ellen said. “But I think you should know that she went peacefully and without pain.”

  This information didn’t stop the flow of tears. Violet asked, “Will there be a funeral?”

  “Betsy didn’t want a funeral. She donated most of her estate to a charitable trust that will turn her home into an artists’ residence, a place that people can apply for scholarships to go to and have a quiet, supportive place to work. She said that will be her memorial—the Barrett Center for the Arts. She didn’t want a casket or a ceremony or anything.”

  “So, she’ll be buried, then?”

  “Cremated,” Ellen said. “Violet, I usually don’t share these kinds of details with non–family members, but Betsy made it clear in her directives that she wanted you to be informed when she passed.”

  Violet forced herself to say, “Thank you. I appreciate you letting me know.”

  “Do you have any questions?”

  Violet sniffled. “Just—is there anything I can do?”

  “Everything’s already being taken care of,” Ellen replied. “Her estate attorney has been notified, so that he can get working on the trust, and hospice has already contacted the cremation service. Betsy left very detailed instructions as to what was to happen when she died. She did not want to inconvenience anyone.”

  It amazed and inspired Violet that even on her deathbed, Betsy was thinking of other people before herself. Still, after she and Ellen hung up, Violet couldn’t help feeling not only sad but also unsettled. She’d been expecting Betsy’s death any day now, but she also thought she’d get a little more notice, another chance to visit and say goodbye. Now there wouldn’t even be a funeral, and Violet wondered how she’d ever be able to feel any sense of closure.

  She sat down, and as if he sensed her sadness, Miles rested his snout on her lap. She leaned down and patted his wrinkly head, glad to have his company. She knew Betsy had said not to feel sorry for her, but Violet couldn’t help wondering if her friend had died alone. Certainly hospice staff would have been at her side, but had any loved one been there to hold her hand? To tell her not to be afraid?

  Violet thought about April, in another hospital bed, going through a very different experience. She envied April a little—not the fact that she was in labor, of course, but the fact that she would soon have a family of her own. When she and April had first met, they’d had a lot in common. They were both single and without family, and Violet suspected that fact had something to do with why, despite their differences, they’d formed a connection. Now April had Charlie, and very soon they’d have a child. Violet was happy for them, but their situation also had the uncomfortable effect of highlighting what Violet didn’t have, especially now that she was no longer even in a relationship.

  Since she’d broken up with Sam, the days had been dragging. Violet tried to distract herself with work, but even tasks she normally enjoyed, like going through boxes of treasures that customers brought in to sell or helping a college girl pick out a dress for a date, held little appeal. It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to care for anyone like she’d cared for Sam, and now she knew why. It hurt too much when things ended.

  Before she met Sam, Violet had almost resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn’t find love again. She dutifully went on dates, mostly at Karen’s urging that she had to get herself “back out there.” Mostly, though, Violet wanted only to be at peace with herself and her own past, and she tried everything that might help her do that. She’d done tai chi and yoga, which only made her antsy and gave her mind too much unoccupied time to dwell on regrets. She’d had her energy work done by a Reiki master, been poked by the needles of an acupuncturist. She’d even, at the suggestion of Erma, the neighborhood witch, sat in the middle of a chalked circle with a shaman and gone on a mental journey to meet her animal spirit guide. Hers was a starfish. The shaman had told her it was because starfish regenerate. They can suffer an accident, lose a limb, and grow whole again even after great trauma. Violet liked to think she was like the starfish in that way, but she feared she still wasn’t whole.

  She distracted herself from her sadness and longing by continuing to organize things in her new space. She fiddled with the arrangement of the clothing racks and the layout of the furniture. She was so engrossed in her work and her grief that she jumped when the phone rang again just after ten thirty. She picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s a girl!” cried Charlie’s voice on the other end. “I hope it’s not too late to call. We just thought you’d like to know, since April left work so suddenly today.”

  “It’s never too late for good news. I’ve been thinking about April all day, hoping everything was going okay. Does the little one have a name?”

  “Katherine, after April’s mom. But we’re going to call her Kate.”

  “Baby Kate.” Violet smiled. “It’s perfect. How’s April doing?”

  “She’s sleeping at the moment, but she’s great. She can’t wait to show off the baby.”

  “So when can she do that? I mean, when can I come see you guys?”

  “We’re going home the day after tomorrow, hopefully, so maybe you can come by our place then.”

  “Sure. I can come over after work that night, but are you sure it won’t be too much? I mean, won’t April be exhausted?”

  “Maybe, but she’s dying for you to meet Kate. You’re the first person April mentioned, once everything settled down after the delivery. She said, ‘I can’t wait for Violet to see her.’”

  Violet felt a surge of pride. She may not have had a family of her own, but this was almost as good.

  Two nights later, Violet sat in a rocking chair at April and Charlie’s apartment, holding little Kate in her arms. Through losing her grandmother and Betsy, she had become more acquainted with death than she cared to be. It felt wonderful, then, to have this new, warm bundle curled up against her. The baby had been sleeping since Violet arrived, so she hadn’t caught a glimpse of her eyes yet, but her pudgy cheeks, wrinkled hands, and long eyelashes were pure perfection.

  “She’s gorgeous,” Violet declared.

  “I’m glad you think so because I do, too.” Dark circles outlined April’s eyes, and her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. Still, she looked less weighed down than Violet had ever seen her, not just in the sense that she was no longer carrying around a baby inside of her, but also on a deeper level. April seemed content.

  Violet nodded toward a package on the table, wrapped in an old map and tied with twine. “I brought a little something for Kate.”

  “That’s sweet,” April said. “You didn’t have to.”

  “Are you kidding? And pass up the opportunity to pick out something tiny and cute?” Violet tucked in a loose end of Kate’s swaddle blanket. “Open it.”

  April picked up the package and opened it, being careful not to tear the paper. Inside was a small box, and she lifted the lid and held up a white bonnet adorned with embroidered yellow ducks and hand-looped lace.

  “It’s gorgeous,” April said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “It’s from the nineteen forties. While you were—” Violet paused, not wanting to bring up their rift during such a happy time. “When you were gone and I was going through stuff for the revue, I came across it in one of my boxes in the back room of the old building. I bought it years ago at an estate sale on an old
farmstead.”

  “I didn’t know you had baby stuff in your inventory,” April said.

  “Yeah, a few things. For a while, I started collecting baby items because—” Violet stopped, embarrassed to admit the truth, which was that, for a time, she had compiled a small stock of infant clothes in the hopes of someday having a child of her own. “I, um, used to think about carrying some baby items in the store, but never got around to it,” she said. “Anyway, when I saw this, I set it aside for you.”

  “You were thinking of me even after I’d been such a pain in your ass?” April asked.

  “Sure. Even though you weren’t interning anymore, I was hoping I’d still have a chance to give it to you and meet the baby.”

  Kate opened her eyes and stretched her arms above her head with a peaceful sigh.

  “Aw, she likes it,” April said. “That’s the first time she’s opened her eyes in hours.”

  Violet leaned down so that her face was just inches from the baby’s. “Hi, Kate. I’m Violet. I’m so happy to meet you.”

  April smiled and ran a finger along the yellow ribbon on the bonnet. “Thank you for this.”

  Crickets sang outside, and two girls on bikes chattered as they pedaled past the open window.

  “I like your new apartment,” Violet said, noticing the built-in cabinets and crown moldings. “It’s got some great old details.”

  “Yeah, it reminds me of my mom’s house—er, your house—a little bit. It’s closer to the med school, though, so it will be a lot easier for Charlie. His first-semester schedule is pretty busy, and he doesn’t have much flexibility with it. I planned my own classes around when he’s free, so we can switch on and off being home with Kate. But there’s a seminar I really want to take with a visiting math professor that conflicts with something in Charlie’s schedule, so I don’t know what we’re gonna to do about that. It’s only one evening a week. I guess we’ll just have to find someone to watch the baby that one night.”

  “I’ll do it,” Violet offered. She didn’t even think about it. She just said it, and when it came out, it sounded right.