by R. R. Banks
“Somehow, I thought that you might want to have her here,” he said.
“Thank you.”
Kathryn came to the bed and patted my arm. Just that touch comforted me and helped me to relax. I felt stronger and more in control now that she was in the room with me.
I’ll be damned. She really did have energy that she could send to us.
“How are we feeling?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Fine.”
“Well, let’s just take a peek and see what’s going on,” she said.
She was so completely calm, unflustered and seemingly unfazed by the situation that I felt any reservations that I did feel disappear. Beside me Richard took my hand and I knew that everything was going to be perfect.
Kathryn went to the end of the bed and a few seconds later lifted her head to look at me.
“It seems we’re going to be having a baby very soon. Let’s get you up and walking around, and see if we can get you through this phase.”
She detached me from the monitor and I let her help me get out of my dress and into one of the hospital gowns before we walked out of the room. Richard came along with me and we roamed up one hallway and down another, pausing occasionally for me to get through a contraction. When one particularly difficult one hit, I turned and tipped forward into his arms, wrapping mine over his shoulders and leaning my head to his chest. I felt him take my hips with both hands and sway with me, making soothing sounds as the strength and warmth of his body helped to soothe me through the painful peak of the contraction and then down the other side until I was back to normal again. Something occurred to me as the pain eased and I lifted my eyes to look at him.
“You took the classes,” I said.
He nodded.
“I went back and finished them. It was a little more difficult without someone to actually coach, but I wanted to be as prepared as I could be. Just in case you let me be with you during this.”
I pressed a kiss to his lips and breathed in the scent of him, enjoying that single moment of quiet before another contraction hit me.
“Let’s move her back to the labor room so I can check in on her,” Kathryn said.
As we were nearing the room another woman came rushing up to me.
“I know that your birth plan says that you want to have a completely natural birth without the assistance of medication.”
“Yes,” I said, instantly wanting her and her grating little voice away from me.
“But by law I am required to discuss your options with you so that in the event that you change your mind about how you wish to proceed through labor, you will be able to make an informed and safe decision.”
“I don’t want to hear about it,” I said.
“I’m sorry, but I am obligated to tell you that this type of support is available to you and will be administered according to your wishes if and when the need arises. I personally will be available to administer the medications and provide further support throughout the labor process to ensure that both you and your baby will remain healthy and safe.”
I looked up at Richard.
“You couldn’t have just had a private midwife on call to come to the house, could you?” I asked him.
He laughed.
“Somehow I don’t think that that would be the best option.”
Another contraction hit me, and I clenched my jaw at its intensity. The woman started talking again, but I held up a finger to silence her. When the pain eased I opened my eyes again and looked at her. She was staring back at me with a quizzical look on her face.
“What was that?” she asked.
“A contraction,” I told her.
“I don’t think you’re going to need me, so I’m just going to go back to the lounge and wait” she said. She leaned closer so that she could whisper conspiratorially to me. “You appear to be kicking labor’s ass.”
Damn right I was.
I got onto the bed in the labor room and rested my head back against the pillow while Kathryn examined me.
“Well, everybody. We’re not going to have time to switch over to the delivery room. This baby is going to be making her grand appearance right here.”
It felt like the world slowed around me, and yet, everything was moving so fast. I hadn’t even been at the hospital for an hour and already Kathryn was telling me that it was time to start pushing. At the beginning of this journey I thought that I was going to be afraid in this moment, but I wasn’t. I suddenly felt completely at ease, totally confident in myself and what my body was supposed to do. I could hear Richard and the nurse on either side of me cheering me on, encouraging me through every push, but I couldn’t hear the individual words that they were saying. It was all a blur of sound, blending with the beat of my heart and the rush of my own thoughts.
Suddenly I heard a cry and I looked down to see Kathryn gathering a tiny baby into her hands. I gasped, tears flowing freely now, and reached for her. In seconds I was cradling her to my chest, watching her relax as she listened to the sound of my heartbeat, the sound that she knew better than anything else.
When I was finally transferred into the recovery room I lay back in the bed, a fresh cool sheet over me, and watched as Richard cradled the baby to his bare chest. He rocked her softly, his head ducked down so that he could whisper to his daughter.
Our daughter.
****
Richard
The feeling of the tiny baby, only minutes old, curled against my chest was the most indescribably amazing experience that I had ever had. I was in awe of Rue, stunned at what I had just witnessed her do. I had only ever watched babies be delivered in movies and was geared up for the screaming, thrashing, and creative profanities that were always shown during those scenes. Yet, none of that happened. Rue had seemed almost impossibly calm throughout the entire process. I had seen the pain on her face and heard her as she focused on long, slow, deep breaths to carry her through the contractions, but never once had she screamed or fought. It was almost as though she and the baby had linked together, understanding one another and peacefully bringing each other through to the moment when she took her first breath and became a part of our family.
Our family.
I still couldn’t believe how this night had unfolded. When I first started toward Whiskey Hollow with the goal of talking to Rue, I could only hope that she would listen to me. I hoped that maybe she would let me get all the way through everything that I wanted to say to her and then would say that she needed some time to think through it all. I couldn’t bring myself to even begin to wish for anything more than that. And I would have accepted that. After all she had gone through, I would have been willing to have that be the first step, and to continue to pursue her, to do anything that I needed to do to show her that what I had said to her was the absolute truth.
Yet by some miracle she had opened her heart to me. She had not only heard what I had to say to her, but she had taken it within her, found the place inside of her heart that had always belonged to me, and returned it to me fully and completely. I touched a kiss to our daughter’s head and glanced across the room at Rue. She had rested her head back and was sleeping peacefully, a look of contentment unlike any I had ever seen on her face. I had never seen her look more beautiful. I heard a gentle coo from my arms and realized that the baby had fallen asleep as well. As I brought her over to the bed and nestled her into Rue’s arms, it occurred to me that we hadn’t yet given her a name.
The topic was something that had never come up between Rue and me. When we first started discussing the possibility of having a baby Flora and I had batted around ideas, but there had never been anything that had stood out to me, nothing that ever sounded like what I would want to call my daughter. I knew now that was because I was never intended to share a child with Flora so in my heart I didn’t really care what she thought of a name. Now I had an idea in mind, and all I needed to do was convince Rue that it was the right choice for the little one that w
e shared.
I walked over to the window of the birthing center room and parted the sheer curtains to look out of it at the sunlight that was now starting to come up over the horizon. This was the sun that would shine on the first full day of my daughter’s life. This would be the first sunlight that she ever saw, the sunlight that warmed the first outside air that she would ever breathe. And suddenly I knew that it was the only thing I was seeing through that window that I wanted her to grow up around.
The maternity center around me had been built with such a purpose. It was meant to give Rue a place where she was going to get the very best in care throughout her pregnancy and during delivery, and that would keep her here close to my home and my work so that it was convenient for me to be involved with the process and then to bring my daughter right into her new world. Now, though, I wasn’t seeing the world that I wanted for her. The city below was magnificent. It was filled with opportunity and the sizzling, almost frenetic energy that came from every person who scurried along the streets and filled the buildings doing what they needed to do to get by and reach for their aspirations. It was a place that meant a lot to me and one that had done incredible things in my life, but it wasn’t childhood.
Of course, someday I would introduce our daughter to everything that the city had to offer and help her to find all of the opportunities that could possibly await her there. For now, though, she deserved to be where she wouldn’t be bound by societal rules and class warfare, where going outside to play didn’t mean having the driver bring you to the local park and trying to lose yourself for a time in that tiny patch of nature among the glittering glass towers and concrete sidewalks. As soon as Rue woke up, I was going to tell her that my mind was fully made up. I wasn’t just willing to try to live the kind of life that she did in Whiskey Hollow. I wanted to make that my home. Our home. I could afford to cut down on my work and slow my pace, and I knew of a few projects that could use my attention, starting with getting the plans underway to restore Grammyma’s house and build our own home on the property. After that, I was going to explore the Hollow and get to know the people and the businesses a little better. It was time that I started investing in something other than myself.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dear Clementine,
I can’t believe that you finally have a name. After so long of just thinking of you as “Baby,” it’s strange to have something else to write out. Your father was so excited when he told me his idea for giving you that name, and it immediately just seemed so perfect. I’m guessing that about eighteen years from now when I give you the scrapbook that I’ve been making for you that you will hate how you came to have that name and I will hear all sorts of complaints about it and declarations that I absolutely must let you change it, but for now I love it, so I’m not going to worry about that.
I’m sorry that it’s been so long since I wrote to you. These last few weeks since you were born have been pretty hectic. You coming into the world marked a little bit of a renaissance for Whiskey Hollow. Your papa has been scurrying around helping everybody he can. I’ll be the first to admit it hasn’t been easy for all of them to accept. You’ll learn soon enough that we are proud people here and accustomed to getting everything that we need in life through hard work. Some people see what he’s doing as charity or like he’s trying to buy his way into their good graces, but I’ve been following around behind him doing my very best to convince them that that is not the case. Instead, he just wants to thank the people who mean so much to me and make sure that the home that you know is as prosperous and wonderful as it can be.
I’m not so sure that Whiskey Hollow is going to be the only place that you know. As much as I love it here and as much as your father has settled in, I know that there is so much more out there to discover. I didn’t have the chances that are available to you, and I want you to take all of them. I remember being younger and wondering why anyone would want to stay here when they grew up and had opportunities. It took until I was grown up and left that I realized that not everybody has those opportunities. For some, life is where they are born and that is simply the way it is. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Never be ashamed of where you were born, Clementine. Now, I don’t necessarily mean that you need to share with everybody that your mama went into labor with you in the back of a beaten up, broken down pickup truck. You could probably go ahead and take some creative license with that. What I mean is that I never want you to feel like you are limited. I want you to love Whiskey Hollow for what it is, but also be able to go out and explore all that this world has to offer you. When you do come home, I want it to be because your heart is here, not because you feel obligated to.
Anyway, I was telling you about the ways Papa has been changing things around the Hollow. Well, maybe “changing” isn’t quite the right word for it. That makes it sound like he doesn’t like it here and is trying to make it something that it’s not. That is certainly not the case. Your papa has taken to this place even better than I hoped he ever would. There are times when I wonder if his family has some Hollow in the woodpile. Truth be told, I don’t really think that it would matter if he was trying to change it into something else. I don’t think that there is anything that he could do to make it any different than it is. The Hollow is just as resistant as the people in it and will keep on going no matter what. With the little sprinklings of good cheer that Papa has been spreading around, though, it will just keep on keeping on a little bit easier.
The first thing that he did was buy Bubba Ray Ramirez a food truck and fund supplies for him for goodness knows how long. That way he can bring his food to anyone he can drive to rather than only subjecting the Hollow to it. He says that he’s been watching that food TV channel like a religion recently and that with all of the fusion restaurants popping up everywhere, he’s going to be the next hot thing. And you know what? I believe him. I wouldn’t put anything past the man who can make an entire population of an area believe that little bitty triangles of white bread toast are nachos. Papa also says that he’s been talking to a friend of his in the city who does publishing. He might be able to get Bubba Ray his own cookbook. He and his wife Marge sent me a couple of recipes to include in here for you. They figure one day you’ll need to be able to cook for yourself and you should get started collecting recipes now. I’ve put them in along with one of Bubba Ray’s delivery menus from the night you were born. Who knows? Maybe one day he’ll be famous, and you’ll be able to show it off. I’ll just leave it up to you whether you actually follow the recipes, though. Just remember what I told your Papa…you’ve got to deconstruct.
Oh, and as for Cletus’s Clementine Moonshine…it turns out it has amazing disinfectant properties. Some samples have been sent off for testing and he might get to start marketing it in the next year or so. He sent me a recipe for that, too.
I’m going to go ahead and go now, Baby. The weather is gorgeous today and Papa and I are bringing you up to the old Crozet orchards to pick some apples. I’ll put pictures in here for you to see.
I love you more than the moon and the sun and all the stars in space.
Mama
Chapter Thirty
Bubba Ray’s Rojo Cuelo Cantina
Mi Casa, Su Casa, Y’all!
Breakfast
Breakfast Nachos – Triangles of white toast topped with scrambled eggs, chorizo, bacon, sausage gravy, and taco cheese with a sprinkling of shredded lettuce
Mexican Omelet – Tri-color peppers and onions, taco seasoned beef, and crunched up taco shells inside a three-egg omelet. Served with a side of refried black-eyed peas and thick-style chips
Steak ‘n Huevos Rancheros – Sunny side up eggs served on chicken fried steak topped with warm salsa
Churreos – Little bitty bits of fried dough with cinnamon flavored milk and a healthy shake of sugar. Not to be confused with the dessert option
Lunch and Supper
Chicken and Waffles Taco – Taco-seasoned fried chicken in a ja
lapeno-studded waffle shell topped with a chipotle honey drizzle, salsa-slaw, and cilantro sour cream
Country Quesadilla and Warm Creamy Salsa – Carefully balanced blend of crumbly white Mexican, taco, and American singles cheeses in a folded piece of homemade bread, grilled and served with chili pepper tomato salsa blended smooth and topped with sliced avocado
Thick-style Chips and Queso – Hand-flattened homemade biscuits deep fried and served with melted pimento cheese
Green Pepper Relleno – Green pepper stuffed with crumbled meatloaf and mashed potatoes and flash fried. Served with seasoned rice and refried black-eyed peas
Hoppin’ Juan – Refried black-eyed peas over a bed of seasoned rice. Served with hot pepper collards and jalapeno cornbread
County Fair-jitas —Taco seasoned sausage, peppers, and onions served in a cast iron skillet with tortillas, chow chow and pimento queso
South of the Brunswick Stew – Hearty blend of Ro-tel tomatoes and chilies, fiesta corn, and butterbeans in a seasoned broth with shredded chicken topped with cilantro sour cream and avocado
Catch of the Day – Always catfish
Shrimp Cocktail Ole – Battered shrimp and grits with a drizzle of hot sauce, doused in tequila
Cerveza Ceviche – Tiny bits of beer-battered fish and hush puppies all mixed up with peppers, corn, and onions, drizzled with malt vinegar and sitting in beer
Chili in a Cornbread Bowl – Chili. Served in a cornbread bowl
Specialty Beverage
Marge-arita – Named after Bubba Ray’s sweet wife. Marge’s own special blend of top shelf moonshine, tequila, and lemonade. Served in a chilled glass with an orange Kool-Aid powder rim
Desserts
Fran’s Flan – Tapioca pudding with homemade caramel sauce