In the gentle haze of evening, we all played games of horseshoes and ate whatever Malcolm caught in the bayou that morning. Like a well-oiled machine we went through our duties and our days waiting. And waiting.
For what, none of us knew.
Sweat shone on Catfish’s ebony back as he pushed the reel mower across the grass. Peter had sharpened the blades, and Catfish had begged to be in charge of pushing it. It was only ten in the morning, but already the sun bore down, wilting us and everything in its wake.
As Rosey watered the flowers the Magnolias planted, Ludi and I trailed behind her, pulling dandelions and henbit from the moistened earth. Every time he passed by Rosey, Catfish stopped and took a slurp from the garden hose.
Just as we finished, Mary Frances emerged from her cottage, dressed in a new pale green shirtwaist and strappy sandals.
I straightened and wiped the sweat from my brow. “You’re just in time for lunch.” I turned to the others. “Get washed up, and I’ll get out the egg salad and lemonade.”
Mary Frances snapped her handbag open and pulled out a lace hankie. “None for me, thanks. Malcolm is meeting me here for lunch.”
“My gracious, you two are getting to be regulars down at Ruby’s Café.”
“Can’t beat a good chicken-fried steak. Except today’s Wednesday. We might try the meat loaf special.”
“Better than egg salad, for sure.”
“Oh, there’s Malcolm now.”
I waved as the two of them left. The banishment from town apparently applied to me and Bonnie only, as I hadn’t been getting any more warning calls from the sheriff.
While Ludi and the kids returned the tools to the shed, I went in to start lunch and check on the girls. Merciful met me, hands on her hips, the spitting image of Ludi in miniature.
“Those girls won’t stop their fussin’. They both wanna be the momma, and I’m plumb wore out hearin’ them.”
Avril poked her head around Merciful, a blanket shoved under her shirt to look like she was expecting. Bonnie had introduced the game when they were playing with their dolls. Now she came up behind Avril and snatched the blanket from under her shirt.
“It’s my mommy who’s gonna have a baby, and when she comes back, she’ll bring the baby.”
Avril squinted her eyes at me. “Is she right, Momma?”
“Sort of, sweetheart. Bonnie, your momma left because she was sick. Remember? She can’t come back until she gets well.” I had no idea how I would tell her the baby might not even have a chance. Dealing with an absent mother was worry enough.
A vacant look came in Bonnie’s eyes. “But she’s coming back?”
My stomach knotted. The truth might rupture her world beyond repair. I pulled her into my arms, remembering my own childish hope that my parents would return for me. My adult self told me Aunt Cora had been sparing my feelings that my parents didn’t want me, but the child in me needed to know. I could have wrestled with the truth and moved on.
I kissed her cheek. “I pray every night that she will.”
The next week three more people in Mayhaw contracted polio. Some people blamed the heat. Some blamed it on dairy products—Brookshire’s had hundreds of bottles of milk go sour on their shelves for lack of sales. And some people blamed the Stardust. Understandable, but when none of the victims had a connection to me or places we’d been in town, they looked to other sources. Life dragged on, but fear was as thick as the muddy waters of the bayou.
It was a relief to be insulated as we were, confined almost. But Bonnie worried me. My attempts to draw her into conversation about her relatives only made her cry for her mother. I thought if she saw Fiona, it might help. It was the least I could do.
Doc was up to his ears with work, but for Bonnie’s sake I called him one afternoon. He seemed surprised to hear from me. “I didn’t figure the child was still with you. It’s been nearly three weeks.”
“Sheriff Bolander and the March of Dimes are working to find her kinfolk. But in the meantime, I think it might help Bonnie if I took her to the hospital to see her mother. Do you know if that’s allowed?”
He said he would check.
The next day, I got two phone calls, the first from Aunt Cora.
“Hon, I thought I’d let you know we’ve located an aunt and uncle in Arkansas. Theodora and Elmer Benning. The woman sounded confused, but when I finally made myself clear, she apologized. Said she couldn’t come as her husband’s been in the hospital with hernia surgery.”
“Did she sound nice? Like she would be comforting and loving?”
“I couldn’t tell. She said she’d think about it. I gave her the information and asked her to come at her earliest convenience. I do hope she comes before the Mayhaw Festival. I’ve already penciled you and Rosey in for the talent show.”
“I didn’t suppose the festival was still on, with the public being so afraid of getting polio.”
“It’s more important than ever. I met with Mayor Sheldon this morning. People are afraid, but more than that, they want to know what they can do to help. Even your pal Bobby Carl has a celebrity talent lined up for a special concert to benefit the March of Dimes.”
I snorted. “My pal?”
“He’s always had a crush on you.”
“So are you wanting to fix me up with him now that he’s working with celebrities?” I shuddered.
Aunt Cora sniffed, unamused, and I told her to let me know if she heard any more from Mrs. Benning.
I’d no more than hung up when a physician from the Tyler hospital called me. “Dr. Kelley said you called about Mrs. Callahan.”
“Yes. Her daughter’s been staying with me, and the poor child is afraid her mother won’t be coming back.”
“Understandable. Mrs. Callahan is still in guarded condition in the iron lung. She has both bulbar and spinal polio, which is not unheard of, but often these patients don’t survive. I believe she has out of sheer will to live and for the child she carried.”
“Carried? She lost the baby?”
“On the contrary. We took the baby by cesarean to ease the strain on her back. Healthy six-pound boy.”
I did a quick calculation in my head. Yes, it was possible. Fiona could have been further along than I thought. I felt a little dizzy. Would I be able to tell if it was O’Dell’s child?
“Is he okay? Does he have… I guess I don’t know much about these things. Is he in danger?”
“We don’t observe any signs of polio in him, if that’s what you mean. He’s quite the pet in the nursery.”
“I’m sure. So what will happen with him?”
“That’s a matter of concern. We’d hoped that a relative might come forward, but there haven’t been any visitors.”
An uneasy rumble came in my gut. The baby was Bonnie’s brother. “What options are there?”
“Foster care is a possibility. Or a children’s home. He’s not a candidate for adoption since his mother can’t give her consent in her condition. Best course would be for a relative to take temporary custody. You say you have Mrs. Callahan’s older child? Are you related?”
“I’m not. I’m just keeping her until someone comes for her. We’ve been able to locate an aunt and uncle in Arkansas, but no arrangements have been made.”
“We hadn’t heard this.” The line fell silent, and I thought perhaps we’d been disconnected, but then the doctor cleared his throat. “We’ll try to do what’s best for the infant.”
A million images flashed through my head. Bonnie and her brother together. The two of them separated. Me with a newborn propped on my hip while I greeted clients at the Stardust.
What’s best for the infant.
“I suppose I could care for him until the relatives came.”
“It’s a lot to ask. I wouldn’t—”
“I’d have to consult with a few people here. I don’t know.”
“It is something to consider. We’ll be releasing the baby from the hospital next week.”
> “Next week? So soon.”
“We’re a hospital, not an orphanage.” Although the words were cruel, the doctor’s tone was kind, caring.
“I’ll let you know. What I actually called about was to see if I could bring Bonnie to see her mother.”
“How old is the child?”
“Four.”
“She’s a little young. Seeing a loved one in an iron lung can be quite startling, but it often helps the patient to see family members. What day were you planning to come?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Excellent. How about next Monday? By then we’ll know if you’ve decided to take the infant as well. We could have the paperwork ready and let you take him that day.”
My head spun with the details, the what-ifs. My arms grew numb, and when I hung up, I felt as though I’d run a thousand miles. What would I say to Mary Frances? The child was most likely O’Dell’s. Should I even tell her? I hated to tip her world off balance again.
She was only one consideration. There were my girls. The Stardust. Aunt Cora would be beside herself. And me? Could I handle a baby?
Maybe this was what we’d all been waiting for. I picked up the phone and called Hugh Salazar. He could draw up the appropriate documents and steer me through these dark waters.
[ CHAPTER 30 ]
Hugh Salazar looked over O’Dell’s life insurance policy with Fiona’s name as beneficiary. I’d already explained to him and Aunt Cora, who I’d invited for moral support and because of her involvement in the March of Dimes, what I was considering—taking the baby until the family came or suitable arrangements could be made.
Blessedly, neither one of them lit into me or told me I’d gone off my rocker. Mr. Salazar looked over his glasses. “There’s no reason not to submit this. It’s bought and paid for, and the money may be needed to ensure she gets good medical treatment.”
Aunt Cora sat at the edge of her seat, ankles crossed. “The NFIP covers the cost of many polio patients. No one is turned away who’s in need.”
When Mr. Salazar and I both gave her a questioning look, she explained. “It’s the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis. Fiona will get the best treatment available; that’s what the foundation ensures.”
I kept my hands in my lap, determined to be sensible at all times. “Is it possible to set up a trust fund for the children? Something to be used by them in the future?”
Aunt Cora nodded. “It might be an incentive for the relatives to come and get them if it meant taking the children would be a hardship.”
Mr. Salazar folded the document. “I’ll look into it. Georgia, it’s generous of you to want to take the infant. You don’t fancy latching on to the money yourself?”
His tone had reverted to the one I was all too familiar with—patronizing, as if my motives weren’t pure. I kept my voice even. “Not at all.”
“I know your business hasn’t been what you expected—”
“I’m getting by. I have the life insurance O’Dell left, and I’m still expecting the house on Crockett to sell. But that’s not the point. I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t trust your advice. I need that… and your blessing, if you must know. I consider keeping the children a temporary situation at best.”
He wished me well and told Aunt Cora she got better looking every day. Old coot. Some things never changed.
On the trip to Tyler, I tried to prepare Bonnie for seeing her mother. She ignored me and bounced in her seat, chattering like we were going to the circus.
“Mommy said we’re going to call the baby Willie. I have a brother, right?”
“Yes, and Willie’s a good name.”
“That’s what Uncle Mitch says.”
“You have an uncle named Mitch?”
“Yes. And Aunt Eyes.”
“Aunt Eyes? Are you sure?”
Bonnie blossomed, more animated than I’d ever seen her. But who in the world was Aunt Eyes?
“Aunt Eyes says I’m funny.”
“Was this when you went to the Ozarks and saw your aunt Teddy?”
“Nope. It was yesterday.”
“We were at home at the Stardust all day yesterday.”
“The yesterday before Momma got sick.”
My hands gripped the steering wheel. We put out pleas all over the map for relatives when, right here, Bonnie was simply brimming with information. Not that it made sense, but it gave me hope that, with encouragement, we could fit the puzzle pieces together.
“Where did Aunt Eyes live?”
“In town. Not like Aunt Teddy. She lives with the chickens and pigs.”
“On a farm?”
“Old MacDonald.” She put her feet on the dash, then leaned over and rubbed the shiny patent leather of her new shoes. “Do you think Momma will like my shoes?”
“Of course.” The moment to find out more was gone, and as the Tyler hospital loomed before me, I realized I’d not told Bonnie half of the things I intended.
As we stood at the reception desk, Bonnie clutched the diaper bag we’d packed with things for the baby—a sky-blue outfit with a sailor collar, diapers, a receiving blanket. In the car I had a cushioned basket for the ride home.
Back at the Stardust, the portable crib normally available to customers stood ready. Ludi had made it her personal mission to organize the layette Mary Frances and I purchased at the Mercantile.
I explained to the lady at reception who we were and that I had an appointment with the legal department. Hugh Salazar had prepared a document stating I would become the temporary guardian and outlined the conditions for the discharge of the baby to my care. Even though he had his unsavory moments, Cora’s attorney and now mine, I supposed, had been thorough in making the arrangements with the hospital.
Bonnie danced around and tugged on my skirt. “Please, can we go see my mommy first?”
“We have to do this first so they can get your brother ready to go.”
“I want to see my mommy.”
The receptionist ushered us into the administrator’s office, where a woman with wire glasses looked over the papers, signed them, and had me do likewise. Her assistant witnessed the signatures and notarized them. We were free to pick up the baby. The assistant offered to escort us to the nursery on the second floor, but I asked her to meet us there in thirty minutes, because Bonnie wanted to see her mother first.
Although I had braced myself for being uncomfortable when we went to see Fiona, my palms sweated and the collar of my dress made my neck itch. I pushed the elevator button and, when the doors opened, told the attendant we wanted to go to the respiratory ward on the third floor.
When the elevator jerked to a stop, my heart jumped to my throat. I reminded myself this was for Bonnie, and I would not let my distaste for Fiona and O’Dell’s affair affect me. The uniformed attendant opened the door and wished us a pleasant visit. When we stepped out, we were met by a cacophony of clatters and hissing sounds, thumps and screams. The smell was distinct. Rubbing alcohol and body waste. The scent of ammonia burned my nostrils, and I wanted to run back in the elevator and return the way we’d come. But it was too late.
The elevator doors groaned shut behind me, having spit us out into an open area with a U-shaped desk, a work area behind that, and two long rows of doors on either side. These, I assumed, led to the patient rooms. Or ward, as the receptionist had said. If the nurses’ workstation smelled this horrible, I could only imagine what it would be like in Fiona’s room.
A young nurse with brassy blond hair pulled under a batwing nursing cap greeted us. I told her who I was and that we were there to see Fiona Callahan. “This is her daughter, Bonnie.”
“Oh, I’m so thrilled you’ve come. She’s been so lonely and depressed. That’s the worst for the people here. The isolation from the world, not being able to see their families. Some can’t even turn their heads, and none can sit up.” She smiled at Bonnie. “Are you ready?”
A momentary panic seized me. “Do you thi
nk she should? She’s rather young…”
“It’s up to you. The patients on this ward are stable… and safe.”
That sounded good, but I just hoped it wasn’t too traumatic for Bonnie.
We followed the nurse onto the ward. A half-dozen iron lungs filled the room. Hisses and swooshing noises came from the tank-shaped machines affixed to metal stands, and I had the feeling I was in a boiler room of some kind, a factory. Only here the products were human. One of the machines was white, another one dull green, and several mustard yellow. They all had portholes on the side and viewing windows above those. The patients’ heads protruded from one end, giving them the appearance of being separated from the bodies. Bonnie gripped my hand as the nurse led us to one of the mustard ones near the back of the room.
“Mrs. Callahan, you have visitors.” The nurse didn’t direct her voice at the head protruding from the machine, but at a mirror attached to the top edge of the unit. She motioned for us to stand, as she did, at the end.
It felt awkward, but at the same time gave me the opportunity to distance myself from the cold, fierce metal encasing Fiona’s body. My own underarms ran with perspiration, my breaths jagged as though they were trying to keep rhythm with all the respirators in the room.
“Hello, Fiona. I’ve brought Bonnie to see you. Can you see her?” The calm in my voice surprised me, and I was glad I hadn’t come out sounding like a Martian, surrounded as we were by the alien sounds.
Pale eyebrows furrowed above Fiona’s dull amber eyes.
I moved Bonnie into better alignment. Fiona’s eyes widened, becoming moist at once. The muscles of her face twitched, lips moving, and I thought she might be trying to pucker them for a kiss. A rubber collar cradled her neck, but a metal device in the center of her throat looked uncomfortable and menacing. I knew it was necessary, though, to keep her airway open. To keep her from drowning in her own spit, as the sheriff had said.
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