by R. R. Banks
“Richard, this is Cletus. Nobody makes better corn than he does.”
Richard shook his head.
“I couldn’t possibly,” Richard said. “I’m so full I don’t think I could eat another bite.”
Cletus looked hurt and I felt a flicker of embarrassment.
“Alright,” Cletus said. “Well, you two have a nice walk. Rue, I’ll be seeing you later.”
I nodded at Cletus, told him to bring my best to his family, and we continued on.
“You don’t like corn?” I asked.
“It’s not that,” Richard said. “I said I was full.”
“Yeah, you said it. That doesn’t mean that I believe you for a second. I lived in the city and worked in the corporate world for long enough to be able to recognize diplomatic bullshit when I hear it.”
Richard looked surprised, but I didn’t really care. I was back in the Hollow and that meant that I was rapidly shedding the polish that I had piled on to try to fit in better when I relocated. It might not be something that I was always proud of, but it was who I was, and I wasn’t going to hide it, especially in situations when it seemed so appropriate.
“I’m just not used to strangers running out of their homes and handing me food,” he said.
There was a distinct tone of derision in his voice and I felt myself bristle.
“He’s only a stranger to you,” I said. “I’ve known Cletus my entire life and I can’t even tell you how many ears of that corn he’s brought me.”
“I’m sorry,” Richard said. “I didn’t handle that properly.”
We kept going and soon Richard pointed out a house to the side.
“Looks like we’re lucky,” he said. “Christmas decorations. Of course, they look like they’re up all year long, so I don’t know if they really count. That does make getting a jump on your festivities easier.”
I knew he was trying to be funny, but I didn’t find any humor in the comment. I was feeling more and more judged the further that we went, and I didn’t like the feeling. I found my feet moving faster as we kept going, as if I was trying to get the walk over with sooner. We made the wide turn that would bring us through a loop leading back to my house and I saw Sue Ellen up ahead. She was sitting on the front porch like she did every Thanksgiving, churning butter.
“Hi, Sue Ellen!” I called up to her.
She looked up, wiped her forehead with the back of her arm, and smiled at me as she waved.
“Hi, Rue! Are you having a happy Thanksgiving?”
“I am,” I said. “You?”
“Sure am. When are your fruitcakes going to be ready?”
“Next week. I’ll have one by to you.”
“Thank you. It’s good to have you home.”
I waved, and we continued on.
“Fruitcake?” Richard asked, sounding dumbfounded.
I nodded.
“Yes. I make them every year. I start them in October and they soak in brandy until after Thanksgiving.”
“You seriously give people fruitcake? I knew that you must have run away from here because you didn’t like the people, but I didn’t think that you hated them that much.”
He chuckled, but I didn’t find the crack amusing.
“I don’t hate these people,” I said. “Where do you get off saying something like that?”
“You’re the one who told me that you got out of here as fast as you could, and now I see why. Why don’t you let me get you another apartment in the city? It will be much more comfortable for you.”
“I don’t want another apartment in the city,” I said. “If I wanted an apartment in the city, I would have kept the one that I already had. I moved out here for a reason, and I don’t need your approval.”
“Well, you kind of do. If you are pregnant, I do expect a say in your lifestyle, so I can make sure that you’re taking care of my child properly.”
“You might get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t eat or drink, and you might be able to make me go to some ridiculous medical center that you splashed out on because you’re just too good to use the hospitals that other people do, but you can’t tell me where to live.”
“I’m sorry, Rue,” Richard said, looking around. “But seriously. That woman was churning butter. Churning butter. Aren’t there stores in this place?”
“This place?” I asked. “Do you seriously have your head that far up your ass? Yes, Sue Ellen was churning butter. She does it every year, just like her mother did, her grandmother did, her great-grandmother did, and her great-great-grandmother did. Using that churn. She treats it and preserves it just like they did. Then she molds it and sells it to people Christmas shopping. It’s a family tradition and there are many people in these parts who look forward to her butter every year. As for Cletus’s corn, I would think that someone who was raised in as much of a society-obsessed glass bubble as you were would have some concept of etiquette and manners. He grew that corn himself. He harvested it, probably within the last two days. And he grilled it. He wasn’t just offering you a road snack. That was a piece of him, a piece of the hospitality that you don’t seem to care about in the least. The least you could have done was take it from him. This place might have a total net worth that is equal to your monthly earnings and we might not have the same lofty standards of living that you do, but at least we care about each other and don’t go around hurting people because we think it’s funny, or we think we’re better than everyone else. Whether you like it or not, Richard, this is my home. Now, I’m going to go back to my house, clean up, and watch movies. Alone. Happy Thanksgiving.” I took a few steps toward the house and then whirled around to face him again. “And I’ll have you know that my fruitcake is fucking delicious.”
I stalked back to the house not even caring if he was following me, hoping that he wasn’t. I didn’t want to see his face. I felt angry and disgusted, but more than that, I felt an unexpected, and possibly unwarranted, sense of disappointment. I didn’t know what I should have expected. He was a spoiled, entitled man with wealth completely beyond even my wildest dreams. It wasn’t so far of a leap to imagine that he was going to be conceited, arrogant, and self-righteous as well. Seeing it, though, had been painful. I thought, somehow, that he was going to be different. I thought that there was something about him that made him unlike the other wealthy men I had encountered in my career.
But even those men were only moderately comfortable compared to Richard. If they could only see the world through the warped prism of their own perspective and see anyone else as below them, I didn’t know why I would expect any less from Richard. I knew now that I had only been imagining the connection that I thought I felt building between us, and that there would never be anything more than a business relationship.
It was a relief, really. I had to tell myself that. Finding out about this now meant that I wouldn’t go through the entire pregnancy, if there was one at all, thinking that we could be friends or forming any type of attachment to him. When the baby was born, I could simply hand it over to them, sign the final paperwork, and be done with it. There would be no uncomfortable parting of ways or pretending that we would keep up with each other even though we both knew full well that we wouldn’t. Knowing this about him made things much easier.
As I stomped up the stairs into the house and slammed the door behind me, I thought again about what he told me about Flora and their relationship. As much as my heart had ached for him when he first told me about it, I felt almost vindicated now. I could see in him exactly what would make that type of marriage work for him. Flora was perfect for him. Chilly, distant, and always looking at the world knowing that it wasn’t anywhere good enough for them.
The tears didn’t start burning in my eyes until I had finished the first sink of dishes and dropped one of the plates of the second load before getting it into the soapy water. I slid down and sat on the floor, collecting the pieces into a pile and feeling like I was trying to collect the pieces of myself. Sudden
ly what Richard had said about why he didn’t want to marry Flora sank in and I realized that I knew exactly what he meant. Part of me always knew that Whiskey Hollow was my home and I was never really going to be completely away from it, but moving back had been such a sudden decision that there had been mornings when I woke up and couldn’t remember for a few minutes why I was there or when I had arrived.
And did anyone really deserve Flora?
Chapter Fourteen
Richard
Rue wouldn’t even make eye contact with me as we sat in the examination room waiting for the doctor to come in with the test results. Flora stood beside me, her hand rested almost possessively on my back, and there was a chilly silence in the room around us. I had wanted to apologize to Rue ever since Thanksgiving, but I hadn’t been able to find a time to call her when Flora wasn’t right there in the room with me. It was almost as though she knew that I wanted to do something that she likely wouldn’t approve of and was hovering close by to either prevent me from doing it, or in order to catch me as soon as I did. She still didn’t know that I had spent the holiday with Rue. I had been so frustrated with her patented sick act that she dragged out any time that something wasn’t going her way or when she wanted attention that I had just left the house. By the time that I had returned she had made a miraculous recovery and was eating sushi in the living room completely devoid of any type of holiday cheer.
It was still like that and she still hadn’t bothered to ask what I had been doing. I wasn’t going to volunteer the information. That didn’t change, though, that I wanted desperately to sit down with Rue and try to apologize, try to make amends for offending her. Though I still couldn’t for the life of me understand why she would purposely put herself through living somewhere like that, I knew that it had been wrong of me to openly criticize it. We didn’t know each other well enough for my attempts at humor to appeal to her.
Were they attempts at humor, or was I really that much of an ass?
When she came into the medical center that morning she hadn’t acknowledged me. There had been consistent silence amongst the three of us from the time that we walked in until now, and while Flora seemed entirely comfortable with it, I was starting to dread the possibility of facing nine more months of this. Finally, the door clicked open and Dr. Morgan stepped inside, carrying a folder. He looked at each of us for a few seconds and then smiled. That smile told me everything and I felt my heart swelling before he even began to speak.
“Congratulations,” he said. “Rue is pregnant.”
****
Rue
Everything around me got fuzzy and I felt suddenly dizzy.
Pregnant. I’m pregnant.
Though it was exactly what we had wanted to find out at this appointment, actually hearing those words sent a shock through me, hitting me unexpectedly hard as though somewhere deep inside myself I hadn’t really allowed my mind or my heart to believe that it was even a possibility. It was like I had just assumed that it wasn’t going to work. After the disaster of Thanksgiving it seemed that it would be the appropriate continuation of things that we would find out that the insemination hadn’t stuck, and we would go our separate ways; them to find another woman whose womb wouldn’t betray them, and me to figure out some other way that I was going to save Grammyma’s house. But that’s not what happened.
I’m pregnant.
I turned and looked at Richard. He was staring at me, his eyes sparkling. I felt everything that had happened fall away and all I saw was the man I had met, the man who I hadn’t been able to get out of my mind. We smiled at each other and before I realized what I was doing, I was on my feet, closing the space between us as he did the same. He gathered me into his arms and hugged me close. I filled my lungs with the scent of him, closing my eyes so I could memorize it. He suddenly took a step back, patting my shoulders as if he was worried that he’d done something wrong and was trying to put me back together.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Are you OK?”
“She’s fine,” Dr. Morgan said with a slight laugh. “She’s not breakable, I promise. We’ve gotten through the first hurdle. The procedure worked, and Rue is officially pregnant. Your baby is happily growing and has actually gotten through a few key phases of development already. Now we move forward. This is just the beginning.”
“So, what now?” Flora asked, bringing a stark end to the doctor’s speech.
Until that moment I had forgotten that she was even in the room and now that I remembered I felt a dampening of my happiness. I wished that Richard and I could just experience this together.
“Now we decide how to proceed. Rue can either be under my care or the care of one of the midwives.”
“Midwife,” I said promptly, not giving Flora a chance to interject even though I could see in her face that she was getting ready to say something. “I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me so far, Doctor, but I’d like to have a midwife, if that’s an option.”
“Of course, that’s an option. We can start you under her care in just a few weeks, once a bit more development has happened. For now, just relax. Enjoy the news. If you notice any signs of problems, such as bleeding, cramping, or dizziness, come in as fast as you can. Other than that, I’ll set you up for your first meeting with the midwife in January.”
“January?” Richard asked, sounding slightly frantic. “Why that far?”
“Because there’s really nothing that we can do until then,” Dr. Morgan said. “The baby has plenty of growing to do, and until around the middle of January, we won’t be able to even see a heartbeat. After that, I promise things will get more exciting. So just go on home. Enjoy the holidays. Start thinking of a fun way to announce your pregnancy on Valentine’s Day. Congratulations again.”
My heart fluttered in my chest.
Valentine’s Day. Could it be more perfect? Or less perfect? I was having a hard time deciding.
****
Richard
Valentine’s Day. Could there be a better way to celebrate than to tell everyone I’m going to be a father? …Maybe one.
We walked out of the medical center and Flora glared at Rue. All pretext was gone now, and I doubted that there was ever going to be anything but this type of uneasiness between them.
“Make sure that you’re following the diet that I gave you,” she demanded. “I don’t want this baby being born with a food addiction or already behind in the fight against childhood obesity. Besides,” she looked Rue up and down, scrutinizing her, “there’s no real point in you getting fat, is there? You won’t have a built-in excuse once the baby’s born.”
“Flora!” I scolded, but she didn’t seem to care. She simply turned and stalked toward the car. I turned to Rue. “I’m sorry,” I said. “That was really uncalled for.”
“Everything about her is uncalled for,” Rue said. “And that’s fine. I’m not doing this for her. I’m doing it for you. And only for you.”
My heart filled, and I smiled at her.
“I’m so happy,” I said.
“And I’m so happy for you. I promise I will do everything I can to be the very best home for your baby until its born.”
I nodded.
“I know you will.”
I could hear Flora shouting at me from the car, but I ignored her. Nothing was going to ruin the joy that I was feeling that day.
“I guess I’ll see you in January?” Rue asked.
My happiness sank just slightly. That sounded so far away.
“I was hoping that I might get a chance to see you over Christmas,” I said.
Rue glanced around me toward Flora’s voice and shook her head.
“I don’t think that that would be the best idea,” she said. “I can’t imagine that Flora would be too delighted to have me around for the holidays.”
I nodded. I understood where she was coming from. If I was her, I wouldn’t want to give up my Christmas to spend time with Flora, either. And after the way I behaved the
last time that I was there, I couldn’t imagine that she would be too keen on inviting me back to her home any time soon. Feeling the urge to hug her one more time, I gathered Rue tightly to me, but stepped away sooner than I would have wanted to. I looked at her still-flat belly, nearly laughing at myself for thinking that somehow, she should look different even though the baby was still barely a speck.
“Go ahead,” Rue said, as if she could read my mind.
I reached forward and touched my fingertips to her stomach, imagining that somehow my baby could sense that I was there. This was something that I had wanted for so long, and now it was happening. With all of the emotions coursing through me I didn’t know how to feel in that moment, but all I knew was that, at least for that second, I was glad to be sharing it with Rue.
Chapter Fifteen
Rue
Dear Baby,
Hello.
You’re there. I know you are. The doctor told me that you are. But I still can’t believe it. I’ve been thinking about you for weeks now, but now that I know that you are really real it’s hard to wrap my brain around it. I wish that I had taken a picture of your daddy’s face when he heard the news. It was a look of such pure, unfiltered, unadulterated joy and love. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a look like that. You truly are so precious already and you will only get more so the longer you grow and the closer you get to being here.
I get to meet with my midwife for the first time in the middle of January. More than a month away. It seems like it will take forever to get here. I didn’t realize that there was going to be such a long wait in between appointments. I guess I never really had any reason to think about it, but I always imagined that pregnant women were at the doctor or the midwife all the time. Checking in, making sure everything was going alright. Apparently not. Apparently, it’s more like…oh, you’re pregnant…awesome…go away and go about your life for a while. I feel like I’m just kind of drifting around here. You’re in there and I’m set on protecting you, but I don’t have anyone around to tell me how to do it or even if I’m doing alright.