by Lynn Shurr
“Yeah, right, serene,” Nell said, but she did the routine and felt her pulse slow.
Midway through the fourth quarter, the first of the boys left the womb. Once free of the birth fluids, he expressed himself with a few sharp cries before settling into the arms of the waiting nurse who brought to him Nell for a quick peek before hustling the baby off to the preemie nursery. Joe was missing all this. He would be so ticked off with her.
Dr. Stewart nodded behind his mask. “Looking good. Nearly as big as his sister.”
“I’ll take your word for it that they aren’t just tiny mutants,” Nell joked, still alarmed by their size.
The game clock ran down to the two-minute warning. The commentator gave the welcome news. “Billodeaux has moved his team into field goal range with that last short pass. Forty yards to tie the game and go into overtime, well within the abilities of kicker, Howdy McCoy.”
Nell groaned. The anesthesiologist asked if she felt any pain. “Only mentally,” she answered.
Nurse Wickersham patted her shoulder. “I have every faith in the young man, and you should, too. Such a polite boy. Unlike your lady friends, he never argued if I told him you were resting, simply left his flowers and little gifts and went back to his place.”
“I do. I believe in Howdy. Doc, how’s it coming down there?”
“Getting ready for number three. Hang in there a few more minutes.”
“It appears Billodeaux will hold the ball for McCoy the second time in this game. Falcons call a timeout, their last one.”
“Aw, why do they always do that?” the anesthesiologist griped. “It never works.”
“I hope it doesn’t work this time,” Nell answered, fearful again for her husband’s very talented hands.
The well-known voice of Al Harney filled the cool, sterile air of the operating room. “And the ball is snapped. I do not believe this. Billodeaux receives and tosses it to kicker, Howdy McCoy. The Sinners line goes into a V-formation. The kicker is running the ball, trying for a touchdown, eating up the ground with those long legs of his. He’s at the thirty, the twenty, his protection is breaking down. One good hit and the defense will smash him to the ground. He’s at the ten-yard line. Look at Howdy go! Here comes the tackle attempt, but it drives him across the goal line holding the ball out in front, not sparing himself for the sake of the score. When did you last see a play like that, Hank?”
“Al, not since 1984, the Seattle Seahawks under ‘Ground Chuck’ Knox. The man did love his trick plays—and they worked. My guess is the Sinners won’t be using this one again for the rest of the season. Howdy looks a little shook up on the play. Appears someone took a cheap shot at Billodeaux, too. The Falcons will get the ball back with a fifteen-yard penalty attached.”
“Who’s going to go for the extra point? The punter, Brian Lightfoot, is coming onto the field. The reserve quarterback will hold.” There was a short delay. Finally, the announcer said,
“And the point is good.”
The operating team cheered quietly along with Nell. Nurse Wickersham prompted, “Breathe in, breathe out.”
“I’m fine. I’m sending my baby lots of happy endorphins right now. Doctor, doctor, I didn’t hear him cry with all the noise in here.”
“Oxygen,” Dr. Stewart said. She watched the rapid motion of his arms as if he were pressing life into small lungs.
“I can’t see him. You let me see the other two.”
“The Falcons are going for it on the first play with a Hail Mary pass,” Al Harney informed them.
“We can’t lose it! We can’t lose it!” Nell insisted.
“The attempt fails. Game over. The Sinners take it 14-10.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Cassie waited by the gate for the victorious players to emerge. They came out in groups, laughing, joking, still hyped over the trick play. None of them paid any attention to her standing there alone while Mariah and Billy held back the rest of Howdy’s family. Finally, he appeared with Brian Lightfoot at his side among the last of stragglers with the sole exception of Joe Dean, held back for post-game interviews as always. Brian noticed her first.
He said, “Man, you got some righteous bruises, Howdy. I hope they never ask me to run the ball. Looks like you have some company.” He merged with the group waiting for the kicker and left his friend to confront the woman he’d helped Howdy to woo for better or worse. Howdy dipped his head and stared at his valuable toes while a red flush climbed up his neck.
She spoke first since he didn’t. “Howdy, you were right. I pushed and pushed you to do something you weren’t ready to explore. I caused you harm. Can you forgive me?”
“No.”
“What the fuck is wrong with that boy?” Mariah shouted and started forward, but Billy tucked her arm under his. “Not now, darling. Let them be.”
“I understand I hurt you. I can’t prove no one else came between you and Bijou, either. But, I hoped we could be friends for Tommy’s sake. He adores you.”
Howdy raised his eyes. “I can’t forgive you because the fault is mine. I said words—terrible words—I can never take back. I want to blame the shock of finding out about my family, but my grandpa would say that was no excuse. A man should think before he opens his mouth. I didn’t. And the money I gave you, only for plane fare. I didn’t mean it any other way. So, I’m asking you to forgive me if you can find it in your heart.”
Cassie took his hands and gazed into those troubled baby blue eyes. “Yes, I forgive you because I love you.”
“Howie, kiss the girl!” Mariah coached from the sidelines.
“He’s slow about a lot of things,” Brian informed her. “But you, my dear, are fabulous.”
A sharp slap caught the kicker between the shoulder blades and propelled him forward into Cassie’s embrace. Joe Dean Billodeaux, fresh from the showers, grinned and said, “Yeah, kiss and make up. I need to get to the hospital. Some asshole told me Nell went into labor when I came out of the tunnel for the second half. Didn’t know if that was true or not, but no way could I let us go into overtime. We worked on that trick play all week in case Howdy felt he couldn’t make a field goal. Sure came in handy. See y’all later.”
“But Joe, you promised to take us to the victory party,” Mimi pouted.
Joe shot two fingers at Howdy’s half-sisters. “I will. Pick you up at your hotel at seven. I’ll introduce you to the players, and then you are on your own. I need to get back to Nell and my babies for the rest of the night. You two can come up for air now. Me, I’m a gone pecan.”
The couple broke off their kiss. “Give Nell our best, Joe. Happy endings for all, I hope,” Cassie said, but she spoke to his back as he sprinted for his Porsche.
Precious and Sharlette arrived at the maternity ward before Joe. They bedecked Nell’s suite with the balloon bouquet and placed the cake on a side table. The new mother had a piece in hand when her husband entered. He kissed the icing from her lips. “Good to see you eating again, Tink. I could use some of that myself.” Precious carved off a slab and handed it to him on a napkin.
“Suddenly, I’m ravenous. Shammy says I need to eat to get my bowels working again. Oh, sorry everyone. Gross.”
“Shammy?” Joe asked, his words muffled by frosting and crumbs.
“Nurse Wickersham. She was wonderful in the delivery room, held my hand the whole time. Did you see the babies yet?”
“No, I came here first. Sorry I wasn’t the one there to hold your hand.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry. The babies came too soon. If I’d stayed home and quiet the last wouldn’t be so small and sickly. We almost lost him in delivery. If he dies…”
“Nell, I pushed you into having three babies. I won’t do that to you again. Now you feel bad about their size. Let’s not do the guilt trip the way Cassie and Howdy did. Hey, good news on that. Last time I saw them, they were smooching. Besides, I know Trinity will make it. He’s got Billodeaux blood. That makes him a fighter. Your sister is prett
y aggressive, too, as I recall. Might take a while, but he’ll be fine.”
Resembling a float in the rose parade, Rev Bullock entered the room with three vast bouquets of flowers, one red, one pink, one yellow. “Sorry, no blue roses, Joe. I tried. Trinity, now that’s a fine name for the tiny guy.”
Joe nodded. “My mother would say he’s got the Father, Son and Holy Ghost on his side. We decided the last born would be called Trinity whether it turned out to be a boy or a girl. The girl is going to be Lorena Renee after my great-great-grandmother, the namesake of our ranch.”
“What about the other boy? You know, no one has named their kid after me, and mine are Connor, Riley, and little Joe.” His broad, black face filled with hope.
“Your name is Revelation Jeremiah Bullock, fool. No one is going to call a defenseless child that,” Precious said. “Am I right, Sharlette?”
Sharlette held up her hands and shook her head. “I have a boy named Prince. I cannot take sides on this.”
Two more people crowded into the room. Connor Riley headed for the cake while Stevie kissed Nell’s cheek and handed her an envelope. “It’s the usual, a gift certificate for baby pictures. I cannot believe you beat me to the delivery room. I still have two weeks to go. I’m huge and so uncomfortable.”
“You call that huge. I reached the size of a blue whale.”
“You’re about killer whale size now,” Precious added. “That’s an improvement.”
“About that name,” the Rev pressed.
Stevie smiled his way. “We’re calling ours Jack Haile Riley for our mutual friend.”
“You’d name a boy for a lesbian golfer, but not Revelation Jeremiah?”
“Yes, the lesbian golfer who brought Connor and me back together. Jackie promised to be here for the birth. She thought she’d still be in the area to hold Joe’s hand when your time came, but it looks like she missed her shot.”
“Can’t wait to see her. Somebody, give me more cake,” Nell pleaded.
Nurse Wickersham strode into the suite. “I’ll take those.” She divested the Rev of his flowers. “Everyone out in the hall except the father. Mrs. Billodeaux’s parents are here and a line is forming behind them.”
“Can’t they stay? I feel wonderful,” Nell protested.
“Yes, new mothers always do. By day three, you will be in pain and feel quite miserable after a section. I suggest you start resting soon.”
“Thanks for telling me that. Something to look forward to besides bringing the babies home.”
“That won’t be for quite some time, but I shall remain to care for you and them when the time comes. Now, everyone out.”
“If you are going to be a fixture in our household, may I call you Shammy?” Nell asked with a mischievous smile.
“I believe I would like that. Come now, out. Allow Mr. and Mrs. Abbott some time with their daughter.”
Ann and Gary Abbott stayed only long enough to be sure their daughter had come through her travail well. Then, they left for the nursery along with Joe Dean who warned as he backed out of the room, “My mother is on her way and about one hour out. You might want to take a sleeping pill before she gets here.”
“No one can get on my nerves right now.” Perhaps, she spoke too soon because Cassie, Howdy, and Brian Lightfoot entered. She sincerely hoped they left their troubles in the waiting room.
They came bearing pink and blue teddy bears and yet another bouquet of roses. Brian Lightfoot set down the impressive silver vase. “Are those blue roses?” she asked about their unusual shade.
“A shade of lavender, actually. I had my florist arrange them with baby’s breath. He wasn’t too keen on opening the shop on a Sunday, but I’m a big account. You can have the vase engraved with the babies’ birth date and names later. It’s an antique I picked up some time ago.”
“Brian, your gifts are always unique and tasteful.”
“I’d like to think so.”
Howdy offered the two blue teddy bears and Cassie handed over the pink one. “Not very original, but the gift shop downstairs didn’t have much else. We’ll do something better later,” he said modestly.
“Joe tells me you are back together. That’s all I could want. Cassie, don’t let this man go. He’s the real McCoy. I’ve been waiting months and months to say that!” Nell laughed.
“I think that term came from meaning a fine brand of whiskey, and he really doesn’t hold his liquor very well.”
“No argument there. I’m back to beer and wine only. The hard stuff brings out my mean side.”
“As if you have one,” Cassie said with a fond smile.
“I beseech you to let Cassie pick out her own engagement ring. For certain, the man has no taste on his own,” Brian interjected.
“Not only back together but engaged? I am so happy for you.”
Howdy colored a little. “Well, I asked her to marry me a bunch of time in Vegas, but she always put me off. I finally got a yes out of her on the way over here.”
“Make way for the daddy!” Joe barged to the head of line in the hall and came to his wife’s side. “They let me in the nursery, and I sat down beside Trinity and gave him a pep talk. His pulse rate went right up. I’ll do that as many times as it takes to convince him to fight for his life. When I get home, I’ll put a bug in St. Jude’s ear, and everything will be all right. Our Lorena is a strong-willed girl, I can tell already, coming out the biggest, shoving her brothers around before birth. No need to worry about her.”
“Just what we need, another one like Jude and Xochi, but it’s good, really good that she’s strong.”
“Now, about the other boy. I been thinking we need to commemorate that trick play. What do you think about McCoy Billodeaux?”
“I think it sounds sort of strange, no offense, Howdy.”
“None taken, but I would be honored.”
“Okay, how about Mack Coy Billodeaux? Mack Billodeaux, good name for a running back or wide receiver.”
“Your mother would say he has no saint’s name, Joe. You know how she is.” Nell flicked a glance at the doorway afraid her mother-in-law might be bearing down on them with preternatural speed and hearing like a super-hero.
“We’ll throw a Christopher in there. Mack Coy Christopher Billodeaux, I like it.”
“Hasn’t St. Christopher been kicked out of the Catholic church?” Nell asked.
“Only demoted to holy martyr. Shows what you know. He’ll still look out for the kid. It’s a great name.”
“Won’t Rev be disappointed you didn’t name the baby after him?”
“You do know what his real name is, huh? He’s a man of God. He can handle the disappointment, but this play, it was a once in a career deal. Unless you want to try it again sometime, Howdy.”
“Let me heal first. As it is, they’ll be gunning for me now, expecting me to take off with the ball.”
“Yeah, we can get some great penalties if they rough you up a little. This is going to be a fantastic season. I can feel it.”
Nurse Wickersham put her head in the door. “Time’s up. Game over. Everyone, go home.”
EPILOGUE
A perfect Christmas Eve, thought Nell Billodeaux, incredibly now a mother of eight. Joe home, not on the road. The children tucked into their beds after attending the Rev’s Christmas Eve service and church social complete with a black Santa who looked suspiciously like him, a few good friends gathered around the fireplace drinking a good merlot sent by Brian Lightfoot, the CD of Mariah Coy singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas playing in the background. No onslaught of relatives until tomorrow.
A twelve-foot tree covered with tiny white lights, shining balls, and children’s handmade decorations sat in the corner towering over an avalanche of presents. The stockings on the fireplace hung empty because only Santa could fill those. Jude had questioned the AME Santa closely when she went to sit on his lap to receive an orange and a candy cane, making sure he would be able to get to their house tonight.
Dean didn’t believe anymore, and he had told Tommy, but both kept quiet for the sake of their sisters and the babies.
Howdy and Cassie snuggled together close to the small fire even though they had to run the air conditioner to enjoy it on this warm, holy night. With all the bedrooms now filled with children, they would stay over in one of the cabins, enjoy watching Tommy and the others open their presents in the morning, then after an enormous family brunch, take Cassie’s son to celebrate with the Thomas family, Mariah, and Billy in New Orleans. Bijou’s parents, anxious to get to know Xochi better, planned to have her visit at Toledo Bend with them for a week’s stay.
“I’m pretty sure my mom and Billy are livin’ in sin,” Howdy remarked as his mother’s smoky voice moved on to Blue Christmas.
Cassie massaged his shoulders. “Loosen up. So are we until the wedding.” Her two-carat princess cut diamond ring flashed in the firelight.
“Yeah, but I don’t think they plan to get married the week after the Super Bowl like we are. Maybe I should ask Billy his intentions.”
“Leave them alone, sweetie. Unlike us, they grew up a long time ago. A wedding on Valentine’s Day, perfect for a bunch of redheads like us.” Cassie sighed the way every bride-to-be should. Her thesis done and defended, her second degree already framed, for the time being she had nothing to do but plan her wedding and enjoy New Orleans with Howdy.
Corazon trundled in with a last tray of snacks. “If it’s okay by you, I go home now. Knox, Jr., he wants to eat again. Ay, a twelve pound baby. Who knew they came so big? Mine is a giant, not like the triplets, always hungry.”
“A lineman, that’s what Junior will be,” Joe predicted.
“Don’t you dare plan on working tomorrow. Let your cousins fetch and carry,” Nell said. “You know Nadine and Joe’s sisters will bring more food than anyone can possibly eat and clean up, too.”
Also delivered by C-section, but a week overdue, unlike Nell’s children, Corazon still carried much of her baby weight. Nell marveled that Knox, Sr. did not mind, nor did Joe ever remark about the scar that now crossed her own belly even though she’d trimmed down fast with all the children needing her attention.