by Linda Ellen
Tiredly, he lowered himself down and placed his back against the sturdy trunk. Adeptly removing a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket and retrieving his lighter from his pants, he quickly lit up. Then he just sat, staring straight ahead as he blew the smoke out to one side, his wrists resting on his up-drawn knees. One hand held the lit cigarette between two fingers while the thumb of the other hand unconsciously rubbed the smooth surface of his father’s lighter.
With all of the stress and tension of his normal days at the station, plus the confrontation with the racist jerk that afternoon, he surely didn’t need to come home to a shrewish wife. She never used to be that way…she was always even-tempered, and so good with the kids. She always knew just what to say to make everything seem all right… Shaking his head in frustration, he brought the cigarette up to his mouth and took a long drag, then leaned his head back against the trunk to gaze upward at the deep blue night sky filled with thousands of stars and a big round moon. I’ve been tryin’ and tryin’ to be patient with this obsession she has about wanting another baby…but I don’t know…how much is a man supposed to take without explodin’?
Vic closed his eyes, moving the cigarette to his mouth and taking another long draw, blowing it out slowly as he felt the nicotine begin to have a calming effect. He let his mind drift back over the years that he and Louise had been together; as far back as their idyllic summer of dating immediately after the waters of the Flood receded. She had been just a girl then…but he hadn’t known just how much of a girl she actually was – and his thoughts touched on the heated words they’d had the night he had found out. The accusations he had flung in her face, and her resulting tears. He had stormed off, enraged, having no clue that would be the last sight he would have of her sweet face and breathtaking hazel eyes for four miserably long, lonely years.
But since their reunion, followed six months later by their marriage, they had lived a blissful, contented life…at least he thought they had. Had she not been as pleased with him as she had seemed? He shook his head against the thought. No, she had only begun showing signs of dissatisfaction around the time that their youngest had started school. Lilly had told him Louise was suffering a bit of ‘empty nest’ syndrome, and that things would smooth out once a schedule became established. However, to his way of thinking, they hadn’t. She seemed to have slipped from that right into wanting another baby – and not just a baby – a girl. It had to be a girl.
Heaven knows he had tried to fulfill her request, but so far, it hadn’t happened. Even when she did get pregnant, how could he guarantee that the child would be female? It was almost as if she expected him to make sure! How in blazes could he do that? He wasn’t God, for cripes sake!
Shaking his head again, he let it drop, and then lowered his hand and stubbed the cigarette out into the hard-packed dirt. He knew he should get up and go home, but he dreaded the potential of another scene between them. Becoming conscious of the smooth feel of the lighter in his left hand, he wished, for the thousandth time, that his father were still alive so that he could talk over with him this puzzle in his relationship with his wife. Did Pop and Mama have a good relationship? I don’t have a clue. The only couples I’ve watched much of is Jack and Liz – but they almost made me want to swear off being married myself. Al and Goldie…they’ve got a pretty good marriage… he nodded in response to his thoughts. I wonder if they ever fight…
Finally, the thought occurred to him that he should pray about the problem. Slipping his lighter back into his pocket, he threaded his fingers together and lifted a silent prayer to God – for his wife, for their relationship, for her happiness and contentment – and for good measure, he asked that the Almighty grant the blessing of another baby. God…it don’t matter to me whether it’s a boy or a girl…I love all my boys, You know that. But God…she seems to want a little girl real bad, so if You can see fit, will You make it happen? He sat for a few minutes, but nothing more came to him, so he quietly ended the prayer.
A few minutes later, with the evening breeze picking up, Vic realized he was beginning to feel a bit chilled. Well, gotta go back sometime, he sighed as he pushed his way to his feet and began to retrace his steps.
In minutes, he was standing on the front porch of the darkened house.
*
Vic still wasn’t back by the time Louise settled in on her side of the bed. She lay there in the quiet darkness, keenly feeling his absence. With a pang, she realized this was the first time in their marriage, other than when she’d had their babies, and that one awful night he had spent in jail, that she had gone to bed alone. It wasn’t a nice feeling.
All through the motions of taking a leisurely bath, brushing out her hair, and performing her nightly routine, her thoughts had been on her husband and their earlier fight.
Back and forth her emotions seemed to swing, first one way, and then the other. She had felt shame at her outburst, followed by thoughts of blaming him for her feelings. Then, once she was in bed waiting for his return, she began to feel anger that he had gone for a walk instead of talking things out with her. It felt too much like what her father used to do after a row with her mother.
For the first time, she realized her father, Willis, had never really engaged in an argument with Lilly. He had merely sat there, hardly saying anything beyond an occasional grunt, just letting her vociferate on and on until finally he had stood, put aside his newspaper, and left the apartment. Her mother had always muttered and grumbled when he did – but by the time Willis had returned, Lilly had always been in a better frame of mind. I guess that’s what Vic is hoping, too…
Feeling aggravation, but with no specific point of origin, Louise flopped over in the bed facing the wall, and punched her pillow – several times for good measure. Let him stay out there and freeze, see if I care.
Deliberately closing her eyes, she tried her best to go to sleep.
Minutes later, she heard a soft sound on the porch and she stiffened, listening. She heard the front door open softly, close, and then heard the sound of his rubber soles on the hardwood floor of the hallway. She stayed perfectly still, striving to make her breathing steady as if she were asleep.
More sounds…the rustle of clothing on the other side of the room, and then the whispered sound of him padding into the bathroom and softly shutting the door. As quietly as he could, he took his shower and finished his preparations for bed.
Her mind had never ceased its pendulum of thoughts, and when he finally emerged from the bath and gently eased himself into the bed, the pleasant scent of his aftershave and deodorant wafted her way as he settled under the covers. He lay perfectly still, and she knew he was trying to ascertain if she were asleep or not.
Finally, he whispered, “You awake?”
For a moment, she debated over whether or not to give him the silent treatment, but ultimately reason won out and she whispered back, “Yes,” although she didn’t turn around.
He waited, but she made no move to engage with him. At length, he muttered, “You still mad?”
For some reason, him asking her the question stirred the coals of her anger, and she ground her teeth together, feeling her heart speed up. He took her silence as affirmation.
Sighing softly, he murmured, “Babe, you know I didn’t flirt with that woman. She was just tryin’ to push your buttons, is all. You oughta know that,” he added, his voice leaning toward firm.
In response to that she flounced over, but stared up at the ceiling rather than at him. Her mind was thinking to say, “Yes, I know that,” but for reasons unclear even to her, she exclaimed, “How am I supposed to know that? I don’t know what you do all day at the station! For all I know, you could have a string of women coming in for you to ‘stop what you’re doing and work on their cars’!” Her voice had gone from whispering to speaking, louder and louder with each word.
“Aw, don’t be stupid!” he fired back. Immediately, he regretted his choice of words when she shot straight up in bed
and glared down at him.
“Oh, so now I’m stupid?”
Swearing under his breath as his frustration level zoomed through the roof again, he sprang up next to her and whisper-yelled, “That ain’t what I meant, and you know it!”
“I’m not going to stay here and be insulted,” she flung back, not bothering to lower her voice, and trying desperately to disentangle her legs from the suddenly clinging covers.
“Quiet!” he hissed. “You wanna wake everybody up? And where do you think you’re going? We need to talk this thing out.”
“Well, I don’t feel like talking now!” she countered as she started to flee, but he gently grasped her arm and held fast as she carried on, “Maybe I would have before you went out to take your long-walk-to-cool-off, like Daddy always did to get away from Mama when they had a fight, but now, I just don’t care anymore!”
“Aw Mary Lou…don’t leave the bed…stay and talk to me,” he requested, his voice deep.
Something about the husky tone of his voice and that special way he uttered her name made her breath catch. This was her husband, her wonderful Vic, her soul mate…her best friend. Why had all those old insecurities from the hurts of her past suddenly decided to reincarnate out of thin air to torment her? They were dead, gone, and buried years ago. Why am I acting like this?
Suddenly feeling decidedly ashamed of herself again, she turned her head away and started to cry.
The anger that had ramped up so quickly in Vic had taken a nosedive, then immediately flew out the window, and now he felt like the biggest heel in the world. He’d never been able to stand hearing her cry; it always tore at his insides. Now, knowing he was the reason for her tears, he felt even worse – something akin to garage floor grime on the bottom of his work shoes.
He gently tugged on her arm, wanting desperately to explain, and what’s more, to stem the tide of her tears. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to upset you. This has been a crazy day. I shouldn’t ’a brought the station’s problems home…”
After a few moments, Louise sniffed and wiped her cheeks with the back of one hand. Turning her head, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Problems? What problems?”
He rifled his other hand back through his damp hair as he told her of the encounter with the rude, racist customer. By the time he finished, Louise had turned toward him, tears stopped and all thoughts of their silly argument forgotten.
“Oh Vic! That’s terrible!” she responded. “I hope you told him not to ever come back!”
“You bet I did,” he answered with a nod. “Dirtbags like him need to be tied up and horsewhipped.” Then with a snort, he shook his head in wonder. “But good old Duke…he’d fuss at me if he heard me say that. He said he’d pray for the man and Let the Good Lawd spank his be-hind.”
They chuckled softly together.
Turning toward her, he reached out and gently clasped her hands. With a small smile, he mumbled, “Are we okay now?” and was relieved when she nodded and leaned over to brush his lips with hers. He took her into his arms and they sat rocking in one another’s embrace for quite some time, thankful for the restored tranquility between them.
Finally, they lay back down and she settled against his side.
“Let’s get some sleep, huh?” he whispered, pressing a kiss against her hair.
She nodded, feeling more relaxed and at peace than she had in months. I’ve got so much to be thankful for…especially for this man who loves me so unconditionally. Forgive me, God, for wanting more… After a few moments, she tilted her head back for him to kiss her, and he complied – a long, warm, wonderful meeting of lips.
When their eyes opened, each one smiled softly, and Louise brought up a hand to caress her husband’s smooth, whisker-free cheek.
“I love you so much, Vic.”
He turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her palm. “I love you too, babe. You mean the world to me. You know that, don’t ya?”
She smiled dreamily and gently ran a thumb over his smooth, warm lips, whispering as he kissed it. “I’m sorry I’ve been so…hard to live with lately…I’m surprised you didn’t put me over your knee.”
He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I thought about it a few times.”
She chuckled and leaned forward to kiss him again.
His lips covered hers as his hands leisurely roamed and squeezed in all the right places. Finally, he pulled back and nuzzled noses with her, murmuring, “I’m sorry, too…I shoulda been more understanding. I don’t ever want you to even think I’d look at another woman.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” she answered, but his lips muffled her response, as he suddenly wanted to make sure she truly understood that fact.
One kiss led to two and then three. Then as he deepened the kiss, they became thoroughly engrossed in one another.
As natural as a spring rain, they continued on for the next long while, immersing themselves in deep, utterly satisfying lovemaking – with no ‘agenda’ in mind.
Finally, in the early hours of the morning, they fell asleep in one another’s arms.
‡
CHAPTER 13
Duke and The Wasp Nest
On a bright Saturday in May, which also happened to be Derby Day, Louise stood looking at herself in the bedroom mirror. Turning to the side, she eyed her figure for a moment, and her still-flat stomach, before closing her eyes and gratefully laying a hand against her belly.
The words of her obstetrician, Dr. Clarence Denton, floated back to her memory from the day before.
“I put it around the second week of December, the 11th or so,” he had said. “Now, I want you to take it easy, it’s been almost seven years since your last baby, Mrs. Matthews. Rest often, and no picking up heavy items or working too hard – let some of that passel of boys help you,” he had cautioned as he ushered her out of his office.
“Oh, don’t you worry, Dr. Denton. I don’t plan on letting anything interfere with this pregnancy,” Louise had assured him.
She had driven home so blissfully happy, she could hardly concentrate on the road.
Vic had been ecstatic and relieved when she had told him that night. Waiting until he arrived home from work to tell him instead of calling him on the phone had taken an extraordinary amount of patience. But, when he had walked in the front door, she had been standing in the kitchen doorway with such a dazzling smile, at first he didn’t notice the item dangling from her fingers. When it finally registered, he laughed, knowing she was harking back to what he had done on their fifth anniversary – she was holding a pair of baby booties, only this time they were pink.
He stepped toward her and swung her into his arms, asking when he finally stepped back, “When?”
“Dr. Denton says December 11.”
He gave a nod of satisfaction, and quickly figuring in his head, his eyes sparkled as he realized they had probably conceived on the night of their big fight. I guess that got things stirred up in more ways than one.
Indeed, everyone in the family seemed relieved…well, all except the youngest member, Jimmy. He had taken the news with a stoic face and once the congratulations and excitement had died down, he grumbled, “Whatta we need some ol’ baby for?” With that, the young boy had stomped out the back door and spent a good while kicking a ball around the back yard.
Gazing at her image in the mirror and picturing herself once again big with child, Louise patted the space where the tiny baby resided as she mused, “Oh, he’ll change his mind once the baby is here…once his little sister is here,” she added as a spoken wish.
With a happy sigh, she left the bedroom and made her way to the kitchen. Lunch dishes had been cleared away and now Lilly was busy working on a project, making homemade Concord grape jam, using a large pressure cooker and glass jars to be sealed with paraffin wax.
“Oh, Louise, we don’t have enough wax,” Lilly commented as her daughter walked in the room. “We had plenty of fabric and rubber bands, so I tho
ught we had enough wax left from last time we canned, but there was only one bar in that box,” she added, gesturing over her shoulder to an open box of Gulfwax sitting on the table.
“All right, Mama, I’ll drive up to the grocery and get…” she paused as shrieks sounded from the direction of the carport. “What on earth?” she asked as she headed toward the door.
Before she reached it, Jimmy and Buddy came barreling through, Jimmy’s face wet with tears as he held one arm in pain, and Buddy’s eyes wide with fear.
“What happened?” Louise asked, startled and concerned, trying to figure out the problem amidst the crying. “Did you hurt yourself? Let me see…” she directed, trying to pry Jimmy’s hand from his arm.
“He got stung by a wasp, Mama,” Buddy explained, out of breath. “We were trying to get my bicycle out, it got pushed back behind lots of other stuff, and a wasp landed on him. I told him not to swat at it, but he did anyway,” he added with a pointed, I-told-you-so look at his brother. Jimmy, meanwhile, kept up his crying and squealing.
“It hurts, Mama! It hurts!”
“Mama, I kept hearing a buzzing sound, and we saw a couple more flying around. It’s so dark in there, we couldn’t tell, but I think there’s a wasp nest in the carport!” Buddy reported, his big brown eyes open wide with alarm.
Louise shivered as she imagined trying to deal with the situation at hand; she absolutely hated wasps. Oh, I wish Vic were here! Or even Tommy! She lamented, but her oldest had gone to an all-day Derby party at one of his friends’ homes.
Sitting down in a kitchen chair, Louise pulled her distraught youngster into her arms to try and stem his tears.
Lilly wiped her hands on a towel and went to the refrigerator. Grabbing two ice cubes from a tray in the freezer, she wrapped them in a soft, clean towel. “Here, hold this on it while I make up a baking soda poultice,” she advised. Louise nodded and took the towel as she pried Jimmy’s hand off the area, making sure the stinger had not remained.