by Pamela Bauer
“Maybe I can help,” her mother offered.
It was her peace offering and Krystal knew she should behave like a grown-up and accept, but she’d discovered that during pregnancy her moments of maturity had a way of escaping when she least expected it. “No, I’m fine. I can manage.”
She could see she’d shocked Leonie. Her landlady leaned over to her mother, patted her forearm and said, “That’s very sweet of you to offer to help, Linda. We can always use an extra pair of hands in the kitchen.”
Only Krystal knew that her mother’s smile was forced. “Just give me an apron and tell me what to do.”
To Krystal’s dismay, that’s exactly what her landlady did. Her mother listened intently as Leonie launched into a description of the melon baskets and vegetable crudités they were going to serve. Krystal felt as if the rug was being pulled out from under her feet. She needed to talk to her mother and she needed to do it soon.
“Mom, maybe before you get started down here you could come with me upstairs. I have the party favors in my room and we still need to decorate the great room, too.”
“No, you don’t,” Leonie told her. “Lisa was over earlier today and took care of the decorating. Wait until you see what she’s done. She has white paper streamers everywhere and lots of balloons.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Linda beat her to a response. “I’d love to take a look.”
“Go ahead,” Leonie instructed with a wave of her arm. “It’s just down the hall and around the corner.”
Krystal suppressed her sigh of frustration. “We can take a look when we bring the party favors down from upstairs.” She motioned for her mother to follow her out of the kitchen.
She planned not to say another word until they were in her room, but at the top of the landing her mother said, “Your landlady’s a nice person. She’s very easy to talk to.”
Krystal turned to face her. “Just what did you tell her?”
“Nothing about—” she paused, then lowered her voice to a near whisper “—your condition.”
Krystal heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God. My life is enough of a mess without having Leonie upset with me.”
“Oh, I see. It’s okay for you to have your mother upset with you but not Leonie?” she snapped.
“No, it’s not okay, but I’m not the one who hasn’t been returning phone calls this past week,” she shot back.
“I had my reasons.”
“And they would be…” she prodded.
“This hasn’t been easy for me, Kryssie.”
“And you think it has been for me?” She didn’t want to sound defensive, but that’s exactly how she felt. “You know, this really isn’t the best time to be having this conversation. I’m supposed to be getting ready for the shower. Why did you come down here today of all days?”
“Because I don’t want the next week to be like this past one has been. This nontalking has got to stop.”
“I’m not the one who hasn’t been talking!”
Aware that Dena could come home at any time and find the two of them arguing on the landing, Krystal pulled her mother by the arm into her room. She didn’t bother to ask her to sit down, but stood facing her, her hands on her hips.
Her mother stated the obvious. “I know you’re angry with me.”
Krystal folded her arms across her chest. “How do you expect me to feel? You wouldn’t even listen to me when I came to see you.” She hated the way her voice quivered when she spoke.
“I know and I’m sorry. It was just such a shock hearing that you’d done the one thing I’d prayed you’d never do. I thought I’d raised you to have values.”
“I do have values. I’m pregnant, not morally bankrupt, and if the only reason you came here was to tell me I’ve done a bad thing, I got the message loud and clear last week.” She wished she could express herself without getting so emotional, but she was dangerously close to tears. “A stinging palm on my cheek, not coming home, not returning my calls… I believe I know exactly what you think of me, Mom.”
“No, you don’t, and I am sorry. For everything, but especially for slapping you. You know how I feel about mothers hitting their children. I’ve always taken pride in the fact that I raised you and Carly by myself yet I never laid a hand on either of you. I was ashamed of what I did.”
Krystal could hear the regret in her voice, see the sadness in her eyes. “Then why did you do it?”
Linda shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was because I saw myself in you.”
“Mom, I’m not a teenager who got caught having sex.”
“No, you’re a grown woman who should have known better.”
It wasn’t anything Krystal hadn’t said to herself a hundred times, but she didn’t need to hear those words from her mother. “You know what, Mom? I should have known better but I didn’t. I messed up.” She threw up her hands. “There. I’ve admitted it. Are you happy?”
“No, I’m not happy.”
“Well, that makes two of us because I’m not happy, either. I’m scared. Damn scared. And it would be nice if I could talk about that with my mother instead of feeling like I’m the world’s biggest loser of a daughter.” There was no stopping the tears. They flooded her eyes, shook her shoulders and wrinkled her face. She turned away, but within a few moments she felt a pair of arms around her.
Her mother pulled her close, soothing her with the same words she’d used so often when she was a child. “There, there, now. It’s going to be all right.”
“I don’t think it is, Mom. I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she sobbed into her shoulder.
“You’ll figure it out,” Linda said reassuringly. “And I’ll be there to help you.”
“Do you mean that?” Krystal asked on a hiccup, straightening.
“Of course I do.” She handed her a tissue. “That’s why I’m here.”
Krystal tried to smile but failed. She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “We shouldn’t be talking about this now. I have to get ready for the shower.”
“Then we won’t talk about it anymore,” her mother said with a maternal authority. “Now stop crying so those splotches go away.”
She glanced in the mirror and moaned. “Oh great! My eyes are all puffy.”
Her mother scrutinized her swollen lids. “Do you have any cucumbers?”
“I’m sure Leonie has some, but I don’t think I have time to sit with them on my eyes. I’ve too much to do.”
“Then we’ll have to think of something else.” Linda gave her a gentle shove. “You go get in the shower and let me get started on your to-do list. What should I do first?”
“The party favors have to be taken downstairs.” She gestured to the tray on her dresser that was covered in tiny champagne cups filled with candies. “Mom, you have to promise me you won’t mention my pregnancy to Leonie or anyone else you meet tonight.”
Linda made a sound of indignation. “Of course I’m not going to say anything.”
“Good. This is Dena’s night. I can’t seem to even mention the baby without getting weepy and if there’s one thing I don’t want to do, it’s spoil the bridal shower by being a wet rag.”
“Doesn’t anyone know about the baby?”
“Dena does, but she’s the only one. Are you planning to stay the night? You can sleep on my futon if you want,” Krystal offered.
“Why don’t I wait and see how late it is when the festivities end?”
Krystal nodded. Some of her apprehension must have shown because her mother said, “You can take that worried look off your face. I’m not going to reveal your secret. I’ve walked in your shoes and I know what you’re going through.”
“Then help me get through it. Please,” she begged, again getting weepy.
“I will, sweetie. I will,” her mother said, giving her another hug.
“And please whatever you do, don’t say anything to Leonie about the baby,” she repeated.
Linda sighed impati
ently. “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t.”
Yes, she had and Krystal needed to trust her.
During the bridal shower, her mother spent most of her time in the kitchen. When it came time for the food to be served, however, Leonie insisted that she join the party and eat with everyone in the great room.
It was a long night for Krystal, not because she worried her mother would slip and mention the baby, but because of the look in her mother’s eyes as she listened to Dena talk about the wedding. It was what she’d always wanted for her daughters—the white dress, the elegant reception, the romantic honeymoon.
Later, as they cleaned up the kitchen, she knew she hadn’t imagined the wistful look in her mother’s eyes. “Bridal showers are such happy occasions, aren’t they?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Krystal agreed, rinsing plates in the sink before putting them in the dishwasher.
“It sounds as if Dena and Quinn are going to have the kind of wedding most folks only dream about.”
“I’m sure it’ll be nice.”
“She showed me a picture of her dress. It’s gorgeous.”
“I know. I was with her when she picked it out.”
“They’ve hired a live orchestra for the reception. It’s at the country club,” Linda told her, as if it were news. “It’s amazing what they’ve planned in such a short time, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for Krystal to comment but added, “Which just goes to show you that you can have a beautiful wedding on short notice.”
“I suppose you can…if you want one,” Krystal said on a weary note.
“Every girl wants one.”
Krystal didn’t say a word, but continued working in silence until her mother said, “You want one, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t think I do.”
“Krystal!”
Without glancing at her mother she knew the look on her face. It was the shock and disappointment that always accompanied that tone of voice. When Krystal did finally look at her she saw that she was right.
“Are you telling me you’re giving up your dream of a wedding with all the trimmings?” Again she didn’t wait for an answer. “Just because you’re—” to Krystal’s relief, she stopped herself before saying the word pregnant “—doesn’t mean you can’t have a wedding.”
Krystal had heard enough. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and tossed it aside. “I’m going outside for some fresh air.”
She should have known her mother would follow.
“You can have as big a wedding as you want, Krystal.” Linda stood beside her, pleading her case. “You just need to do it quickly and, if that’s what’s worrying you, I can help with the plans. Dena is proof that it doesn’t take long to set the plans in motion. Look at what she’s accomplished in just a few weeks.”
Krystal was tired, too tired to be having this discussion, but she had to say, “I don’t have any plans to set in motion.”
“Not right now, maybe, but you’re going to have to make some soon. Time is not on your side. You need to think about this.”
Think about getting married was what she meant. Her mother had jumped to the conclusion that because she was going to have a baby she was going to get married.
“Now if it’s money that has you worried, I’ve got a little put aside. You know I helped Carly with her wedding and I want to do the same for you.”
“You can keep your money. I don’t want to get married, Mother,” she stated firmly.
“What do you mean you don’t want to get married?”
“Just what I said. I don’t want to get married,” she repeated, enunciating each word slowly.
“Of course you want to get married. Do you know how many times you and Carly played brides when you were kids?”
“Well, I’m not a little girl anymore so can we please not talk about this?”
“I’m only trying to help.”
“I don’t need that kind of help,” she said with exasperation.
Her mother shook her head in resignation. “I don’t know what you want.”
“Neither do I, Mom. Neither do I,” Krystal mumbled, but her mother had already gone back inside.
AS GARRET PULLED HIS CAR INTO the small parking area behind 14 Valentine Place he noticed two figures on the steps. Even though it was dark, the door cast enough light for him to see they were women. It wasn’t until he climbed out of his car and heard their voices that he realized one of them was Krystal.
From what was being said, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that the other woman was her mother. Or that they were arguing. To his surprise, it was over the subject of weddings. When the screen door slammed shut, he knew one of them had gone inside.
As he rounded the corner of the house he saw that Krystal sat on the steps staring up at the sky.
“Are you keeping the crickets company?” he asked as he walked toward her.
She jumped to her feet with a tiny shriek. “Where did you come from?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you heard me pull up.” He jerked a thumb toward the parking lot.
“No, I didn’t hear anything but my mother’s screaming,” she answered candidly.
“I wouldn’t say she was screaming exactly.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Then you heard what she was saying?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Just the sound of voices—not what was actually being said.”
“I think you’re saying that to be polite.”
“And if I am?”
“Thank you.” She smiled at him and reached out to touch his hand. It was as if that night of the hospital ball had never happened and they were friends again.
But just as quickly as she reached out to touch him, she snatched her hand away. “I should go back inside. We had Dena’s shower tonight.”
The awkwardness was back and he hated its presence.
He guessed it was probably inevitable, considering everything that had happened. But he’d caught a glimpse of that spontaneous smile of hers and he wanted to see it again.
As she started for the door, he stopped her. “Krystal, wait.”
When she glanced at him she wore a look of vulnerability and for one brief moment he was reminded of the way she’d looked that night when she’d come running out of Roy Stanton’s apartment building.
“I’m hungry and I could use some company,” he said quietly.
“I’m sure there’s food left over from the shower if you want to come inside,” she told him. “Some of the guests are still here.”
“I brought my dinner,” he said, lifting the delicatessen bag. “And that’s not the kind of company I had in mind.”
“I don’t think Samantha’s home yet.”
“I didn’t come to see Samantha,” he told her, although it wasn’t exactly true. They had arranged to meet for a late supper, but she’d been detained at the hospital. Instead of eating alone, he’d decided to stop by 14 Valentine Place. He was glad he did.
He walked over to the picnic table on the patio, hooked a leg over the bench and sat down. “I have enough for two if you want some.”
“No, thanks.”
“You could keep me company. I know I’m not exactly your favorite person lately, but I won’t scream at you,” he promised. When she didn’t say anything he added, “You don’t really want to go back inside, do you?”
She unfolded her arms and walked over to the picnic table and sat down.
“So who won the game?” he asked. She gave him a puzzled look and he added, “The headless paper dolls.”
“Oh, that.” A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “One of Quinn’s sisters.”
“I guess she would know what he looked like in swim trunks, wouldn’t she?” he said with a half grin.
“Oh, she didn’t get Quinn’s right. No one did, which made Dena quite happy.”
He glanced at the bright lights shining through the windows. “Is the party over then?”
“Mm
m-hmm. Your mom and a few of the guests are still in the great room with Dena talking about the wedding.”
“So was it a good shower?” he asked.
“It was great. I think everyone had a good time.”
“What about you? Did you have fun?” He knew that was like asking if the sky was blue. Krystal made her own fun wherever she went.
She smiled. “Yes. We had a few surprises for Dena that had everyone laughing.”
That didn’t surprise him. He unwrapped a sandwich and asked, “You sure I can’t tempt you with one of these? I have an extra one.”
She shook her head. “No, but you go ahead.”
“What about an Evian?”
“Sure, if you have one.”
He pulled a bottle of water from the bag and unscrewed the cap before handing it to her. “If I’d remembered the bridal shower was this evening I wouldn’t have come over.”
“Why? Do they give you the jitters or something?”
“Or something,” he confessed with a half grin. “So what were you and your mother arguing about?”
“I thought you heard,” she said with a lift of one beautiful eyebrow. She took a sip of water, then said, “Bridal showers put her in this mood where she wants to talk about weddings—and mine in particular, or I should say the lack of there being one in my immediate future.”
“It must be something that comes with the territory of being a mom. They want to see their children married with children.”
“Some moms. Leonie isn’t like that.”
He chuckled sarcastically. “That’s what you think.”
“She wants you to get married?”
“She hasn’t come right out and said as much in so many words. I suspect she’s a lot like your mom only much more subtle. I know she’d much rather see me married than have me go overseas with Doctors Without Borders.”
“Are you still thinking about joining that program?”
He nodded. “I’ll probably leave after the first of the year.”
His answer startled her. “I didn’t know that.”
“I thought my mom would have told you. She’s told practically everyone else. She’s worried I’ll end up in a war zone,” he said lightly, although it was not anything to be joking about.
“Is that a possibility?”