by R. R. Banks
“No,” Hannah said, shaking her head without her smile fading. “It’s almost three.”
“Good gracious,” I said. “I seem like a total slug.”
“You don’t seem like a slug,” Hannah said. “You seem like a woman who’s going through her first trimester of pregnancy. Growing babies is hard, and you need your rest.”
It was the same sentiment that she had expressed early that morning and it was even more reassuring now.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I have breakfast waiting for you downstairs and Richard says that he will be down to join you in just a few minutes.”
“He’s still here?” I asked.
My voice must have revealed a little more of the excitement that I was feeling than I intended because I saw the smile on Hannah’s lips change slightly and a knowing look in her eyes.
“He is,” she said. “Just go on downstairs. Breakfast is in the lounge.” She started away but then looked over her shoulder at me. “Come to think of it, I’ve never known Richard to take a day off just to spend at home.”
She walked the rest of the way down the hall, leaving me with that thought in my mind. I started down the stairs and let the smell of bacon and pancakes guide me through the lower floor of the house and into the lounge where I found a table spread with enough food for at least five people. I stepped in and the rest of the table came into view, revealing Richard sitting in one of the chairs, reading a newspaper.
They still make those?
“Good morning,” I said as I walked in.
“Kind of,” Richard said.
“Kind of good?”
“No, kind of morning.”
I laughed and sat down across from him.
“Actually, not at all morning,” I said.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
“Probably far too well,” I said.
“How can you sleep too well?”
I concentrated on filling a plate with food, not meeting his eyes. I didn’t want to confess how wonderful it felt to be wearing his clothing or to be curled up in his house. I ate for a few moments and then noticed that he hadn’t eaten anything.
“Not hungry?” I asked.
“I’ve already eaten breakfast,” he said. “And lunch. And a snack, for that matter.”
I laughed again.
“Perfect.” I took a sip of orange juice and then cocked my head to look at him. “Why did you stay home from work today?” I asked.
“You,” he said.
“I’m sure I could have made my way home myself,” I said. “You didn’t have to take the day off just to wait around for me.”
“I didn’t,” he said. “I wanted to make sure that you were alright, and to spend some time with you.”
“You did?” I asked.
Richard nodded.
“Are you finished?”
I looked down at my plate and the remnants of what had once been the huge pile of food. I nodded.
“Yes.”
“I want to show you something.”
I followed him out of the lounge and back upstairs. Rather than turning in the direction of the room where I had slept, we continued on and climbed another set of steps until we ended up in another hallway. To one side I saw what I assumed was the master bedroom, but he guided me in the other. We reached a closed door and Richard took a key from his pocket. He unlocked the door and opened it. I stepped inside and gasped.
“What is this?” I asked, looking around.
The room around me was completely decorated for Christmas. Garlands stretched elegantly across the mantle of a fireplace and along the tops of windows. Lights glittered from every surface. A massive tree sat in one corner, meticulously wrapped gifts piled underneath. Even the air in the room smelled like pine and peppermint like it was being piped in from somewhere.
“This is my Christmas room,” he said, looking around with a smile on his lips. “I put it together every year right around Thanksgiving.”
“But why is it up here?” I asked, walking closer to a small table set beside a couch to look at an intricate crystal carousel. “Why do you keep it locked?”
“Flora doesn’t particularly like Christmas,” he said. “She doesn’t like the house getting changed and the effort of decorating, or the mess. On Christmas Eve she puts up a small silver tabletop tree, we exchange gifts, and then it’s over. But I love Christmas. It reminds me of when I was little and my whole family would get together. So, I started doing this every year. It’s kind of a chance for me to have the Christmas that I want, without disrupting anyone else.”
“This is your house,” I said. “You shouldn’t feel like you’re disrupting someone just because you want something that they don’t. Especially when it’s something like Christmas.” I looked around and sighed. “I love Christmas. At least I used to. It’s been a while since I’ve really done one like we did when I was a little girl.”
He smiled around the room again and then looked at me.
“Do you want to stay for a little longer, or are you ready to go home?”
I wanted to stay. I wanted to never leave. But him putting it that way illustrated just how much I couldn’t.
“I should go home,” I said. “There’s a lot that I need to do.”
“Like what?” Richard asked.
“Just…. just a lot.”
He nodded, but I couldn’t tell what emotion was in his eyes. We walked out of the room and he locked it behind him, hiding the beautiful, festive scene like he was locking away a private part of him for no one else to see.
The ride back to Whiskey Hollow felt long, but I enjoyed every moment of it, though we were in silence for most of it. It was nice just being there in the backseat with Richard. He spent most of the ride looking ahead of him or at me, but as we approached Grammyma’s house, I saw his focus turn to the window beside me. Something shimmered on his face and I turned to follow his gaze. My hand flew up to cover my mouth, muffling my gasp.
Beyond the window I saw Grammyma’s house, fully decked out for Christmas. Strands of lights dripped from every surface, potted trees flanked the door and lights that looked like icicles outlined a walkway from the parking area to the porch. I climbed out and took it all in, then turned to look at Richard. He grinned at me as he climbed out of the car and followed me.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Like it?” I asked. “It’s incredible. I can’t believe it.”
“I hoped you would. I sent my team out here this morning.”
“Is that why you showed me your Christmas room?” I asked. “To make sure that I wasn’t some sort of Grinch?”
“I would have gone with Scrooge, but yes, that’s the general idea.”
“Ah,” I said with a smile. “Of course, you would.” I looked at the house and then turned back to him. “Is there more?”
Richard shrugged.
“Maybe.”
I giggled and ran up the steps toward the front door. It opened beneath my hand and I stepped inside to a winter wonderland. I glanced out at him and he laughed.
“No locks.”
I grinned and went back in the house. Every room had been decorated, each corner featuring another detail. The kitchen smelled of warm cinnamon, the hallway of peppermint, and the living room of pine, the smell wafting from the broad boughs of a tree in the corner. It was the only thing that I saw that wasn’t decorated.
“I thought that we could decorate it together,” he said.
I felt like a little girl again as we unpacked boxes of ornaments and nestled them into the tree. A crate sitting on the floor beside the couch caught my eye. I remembered it from years before. I walked up to it and touched my fingertips to the lid.
“This was my Grammyma’s,” I whispered.
“I hoped you wouldn’t mind,” Richard said. “My crew found it in the closet when they were hanging up their coats and guessed that it had decorations in it.”
I nodded.
“It does,” I told him. “Heirlooms.”
I opened the crate and touched the generations-old ornaments nested down in scraps of old paper. Around me it felt like Grammyma and my father were there with me again. Richard and I carefully took each out of the crate and I shared my memories of them with him, regaling him with tales of my childhood Christmases. I knew that they were nothing like the holidays that he must have had, especially considering it was always just the three of us, but they were everything to me. We laughed together, and he sat quietly with me, his hand rubbing my back gently as I cried. When I was finished, I felt strangely refreshed.
“The last one,” Richard said, carefully taking the tin star that had been passed down from Grammyma’s grandfather out of the crate.
“You put it on,” I said.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
I nodded, and he reached up, settling the star into place on the top bough.
“It looks beautiful,” I said when the final touch had been added. “Oh! I can’t believe I forgot.”
I went to where I had placed my purse and reached inside, moving the letter to the baby aside so I could reach the envelope toward the bottom. Opening the envelope, I slipped out the short row of images and brought them to Richard.
“The doctor gave me these before he discharged me,” I said. “I thought that you might want them.”
Richard took the sonogram pictures from my hand and looked down at them. His eyes filled the same way that they had when he looked at the screen the night before. He looked up at me and suddenly the space between us closed. His arms reached out for me, but before they wrapped around me, he took a step back as realization of his actions caught him off guard.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have….” He took another step back from me, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”
He rushed out of the house, grabbing his coat as he went. Outside I heard a car door slam and realized that Abraham had been sitting outside waiting this entire time. I had completely forgotten him. Guilt rushed through me and I knew that it wasn’t just pushing the driver out of my mind that was causing the feeling curdling in my stomach.
Chapter Eighteen
Richard
“What’s wrong with you?” Flora demanded. “You’ve been moping around here for weeks.”
I looked at her over my mug of coffee and shook my head.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just after-Christmas blues.”
“Christmas was over three weeks ago. And since when do you have after-Christmas blues? You barely even seemed to care about Christmas this year.”
I covered my sigh with a deep sip of coffee.
I suppose you’re right.
I looked up at the face of the Grandfather clock and felt my chest clench.
“We should get going,” I said. “We don’t want to be late.”
As I passed through my study, my eyes darted to the top of my desk and the sonogram image that I kept there. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Rue since the day that she handed me that image, the day that I had almost kissed her. I had to tear myself away from her, to leave her behind and try not to think of her again. It was all I could do not to go back to her house. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself do that, not to either of us. Or to Flora.
Now I had to see her again. The day that I had once thought would take a lifetime to get here had arrived more quickly than I expected and now I had to go to the medical center to meet the midwife and get the ultrasound that should let us hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. As much as I looked forward to it, I also dreaded walking into the room with Rue and knowing that I couldn’t be close to her. I could barely even speak to her.
Just as I expected her to be, Rue was sitting on the examination table when Flora and I walked into the room. She had the pink blanket draped over her again and I couldn’t help but think of the last time we were here and the brush of my fingers against hers. Yet again we didn’t look at each other when I walked in and sat in one of the chairs against the wall. We sat in silence until the door opened and a tall, sturdy-looking woman with slate-colored hair and vibrant green eyes walked in. She sat on the stool that had been tucked under the counter and used it to slide over to Rue. When she stopped she let out a sigh and looked into each of our faces, a closed smiled on her lips.
“So,” she said. “How are we all feeling about bringing this beautiful new soul into the world?”
****
Rue
What did she just say?
“What?” Richard said.
“This beautiful new soul,” the midwife repeated. “This new little child. How are we all feeling about bringing it into the world?”
She drew in a breath.
Oh, no, she’s going to sing. Oh, dear lord, she is going to burst into song.
Fortunately, she didn’t. Instead, she introduced herself and went on a complex, meandering talk through everything that I should expect in my pregnancy, including a few things that I would really have preferred her to say when it was just the two of us in the room rather than sharing it so openly with Richard and Flora. There are parts of my body that I don’t want virtual strangers contemplating, particularly in the context that Kathryn had put them in during her pregnancy-in-a-nutshell spiel.
When she was finished, I felt somewhat stunned. I was still trying to internalize the flow of information that she had just given me when the door opened again and Ellery stepped inside.
Oh, perfect. Let’s invite a few more people. Where are Flora’s parents? The lawyer? How about both the boy and girl that were on standby to marry this child when it got old enough.
Ellery greeted Richard and then looked at me.
“Rue,” he said.
“Ellery. I bet you’re glad I’m late, now, aren’t you?”
He looked at me quizzically and then glanced at his watch. I rolled my eyes.
Fucking idiot.
Kathryn turned away from the counter where she had been pulling on gloves and waved her hands frantically at Ellery.
“Go, go, go,” she said. “What are you doing in here?”
“I was checking in on the progress of the project,” he said.
“This isn’t a project,” Kathryn said. “This is a pregnancy and pregnancy is not a spectator sport. Everyone out. This is about me and Rue right now.”
I saw the panic in Richard’s eyes and I shook my head.
“It’s alright. They can stay. It’s their baby. They should be here for this.”
Kathryn glared at Ellery and he scurried out of the room.
“Alright,” she said. “If you’re comfortable with that.”
She pulled out the end of the table and I propped my feet into the stirrups, feeling a few second thoughts as I felt the cold air of the examination room sweep up under the blanket, reminding me of just how familiar the midwife was about to get with me and what both Richard and Flora would witness if they didn’t move to a better angle. I drew in a breath and closed my eyes as Kathryn rode her wheeled stool to the end of the bed and I felt her grab the end of the blanket.
Here we go.
****
Dear Baby,
I heard your heartbeat today. That sentence is far too simple to have the impact that the moment actually had. I wish that I could come up with the words to tell you just how incredible it was to listen to that little rhythm, like a hummingbird within me. I couldn’t bring myself to look at either of your parents while I was listening to it. I shouldn’t admit it, even to you, but I was being selfish. I wanted to have that moment all to myself. I didn’t want to have to see their reaction or to have to share what I was feeling. This is all I have. These are the only moments that I’m ever going to have with you, and I want to make the most of them. I know I’m doing the right thing. I know I am.
There’s another month before I see Kathryn again. By then it will be time for your parents to reveal the pregnancy to everyone. I don’t know how many people t
hey’ve even told about you, or about me for that matter. They might be trying to keep the whole situation completely secret until the first trimester is over. For all I know, though, they might have told everyone that they know and be planning a huge reveal party for Valentine’s Day. Wouldn’t that be something? I can just hear the conversation now…Do you want to go to dinner with me on Valentine’s Day?.... I can’t…. Oh, do you have other plans?.... I do…. A date? .... No, I have to go let the father of the baby I’m carrying announce to his society friends that I’ll be popping out his heir this summer.
I like that I just not only created a conversation, but also a man that would have any interest in bringing me out for Valentine’s Day. That sounds much more pathetic than I really intended it to. It’s just that the dating pool in Whiskey Hollow doesn’t really have a deep end, if you follow me. In fact, it’s more a kiddie pool than it is a full pool. Even if it was, I don’t think that starting up a romantic relationship at the same time as I’m carrying you would really be the best choice. A girl only has but so much of her to go around.
To be honest with you, it’s hard to think of ever having that type of relationship again. I can’t imagine just putting this behind me and moving on like nothing. My heart doesn’t want to move forward, even though I know that I have no choice.
This year, Baby, you’ll be my Valentine. We’ll spend the evening watching romantic comedies and eating chocolate out of a big heart-shaped box. Chocolate out of a heart-shaped box always tastes better than chocolate out of any other type of box. We won’t tell your mommy. She doesn’t need to know.
Thank you for sharing your sweet little heartbeat with me today. I’ll never forget that sound. No matter where I go in life, no matter what happens to me from here on, nothing will ever stop me from remembering what it was like to hear that little beat for the first time. I’ll miss sharing mine with you, but I’m glad that yours is strong.
Rue
Chapter Nineteen
Rue