Almost As Much (The Cherished Memories Book 3)

by Linda Ellen

  Vic tried to tell his wife it was all part of nature’s way, that their sons were growing up and she needed to relax her grip; after all, they were just being boys. Nothing he said, however, seemed to get through. Her memories of Jimmy as a tiny baby, in so much pain that he would scream, always seemed to be hovering at the back of her mind. She just couldn’t let go of the need to protect, coddle, and mother him.

  Each day it became more apparent that she could barely keep up with the changes in either of her younger boys’ personalities.

  The situation, coupled with the on-going reality of her husband still working so many hours – in spite of the fact that he had more help – made her feel as if her life was missing some key element. There was a void deep inside that she couldn’t seem to fill. This thought made Louise’s expression harden and she leaned forward more, scrubbing harder at her task.

  She often felt a nudge in her spirit, subtly reminding her that they had drifted from weekly attendance at church since their move to the east end of town. At that moment, she felt the prompting again, but she pushed the thoughts away. I know, I know. We should start going again…but it’s such a long drive now and the weather will be turning colder. Besides, I don’t like to make the drive without Vic, and he’s usually at the station.

  Even as that thought spun through her mind, she knew she was just making excuses. Vic had purposely made time on Sunday mornings to take the family to church. However, except for a handful of Sundays since August, Louise had found a reason not to go. She knew their friend, Irene, would be disappointed that she hadn’t been praying like she used to…hadn’t been thinking about the Lord or looking to Him for help with the constant feelings of lack and dissatisfaction, but stubbornly, she refused to acknowledge the fact – even in her own heart.

  Instead, she convinced herself that if she could just have a girl, it would make everything complete. This new baby would be the key to her happiness. Everything would be balanced, and she wouldn’t feel the emptiness that had become entrenched in her soul. Surely a little girl would bond with her in ways that the boys never had, and a daughter would never feel the need to grow up and be on her own.

  It was the one thing about which she and Vic could not seem to be on the same page. She knew that he felt complete – with her and the boys – living out his dream. She also suspected that deep down it hurt him that his wife didn’t think it was enough. That he was enough…

  Still, she insistently pressed on in the same mode. Each morning, once Vic and the kids were out the door, Louise would walk back into the bedroom to tidy up and make the bed. Then, she would stand at the mirror caressing her burgeoning belly, murmuring to it, “Oh you in there…please be a girl. If you’re not a girl, I just don’t know what I’m going to do! You’ve got to be a girl!”

  That morning, on her way down the hall, Lilly paused at the door and caught her doing just that, causing her to shake head in disapproval. “Louise, you’ve got to let go of this obsession. That baby could very well be another boy and you know it. It would be much better if you would just resign yourself to that fact. What are you going to do if it’s not a girl – send it back?” she added derisively.

  Louise whirled in anger. “Well, I don’t want to resign myself! I’ve just got to have a girl this time! And I’m going to name her Anita Louise!”

  Lilly’s brows furrowed for a moment. “Have you discussed this with Vic?”

  Louise turned back to the bed, fussing with covers that were already straight. “Yes…but he says we’ll pick the name to match the child, the way we did with Jimmy.”

  The wise older woman pursed her lips and nodded, her eyes narrowing as she studied the different expressions chasing one another across her daughter’s face. “Why that name?

  Louise smoothed her hair and attempted to calm herself. “Well…I’ve always liked the actress Anita Louise, she’s so beautiful…and I’ve always liked the name Anita. And…and I like my name too…” She glanced at her mother’s expression and snapped, “Well – T.J. and Vic both have boys named after them! Why can’t I have a girl partly named after me?”

  Lilly merely shook her head with a sigh and continued on down the hall, muttering, “As I said, nothing guarantees this won’t be another boy…”

  “Oh, shut up,” Louise mumbled, feeling decidedly petulant. Inwardly, she hated to admit, even to herself, that her mother was right – as usual. Nobody understands…this baby just has to be a girl! With a nod of determination, she headed out the door and to the kitchen to wash the breakfast dishes.

  That afternoon when the boys got home from school, Louise could tell by the looks on their faces that they were hiding something.

  Wiping flour from her hands, she turned toward them as they stood in the center of the kitchen, both heads of dark hair angled toward the floor.

  “Boys? What is it?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips and bestowing upon them the look.

  They glanced at one another, as if to say, “You go first.” Jimmy pressed his lips together in a stubborn pout and shook his head once, sharply.

  Finally, with a sigh, Buddy reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a folded sheet of paper. He hesitantly handed it to his mom.

  “What’s this?” she asked as she took the paper and unfolded it. It was a note from Buddy’s teacher, requesting a teacher/parent conference.

  She looked up from the paper and opened her mouth to reprimand him, but he squawked in defense, “Jimmy got one, too!”

  Louise closed her mouth and turned her gaze on her youngest, raising one eyebrow at him in question. He looked down and sighed, then slowly unzipped his jacket and took out an identical folded sheet of paper. With a grimace, he handed it over.

  *

  Louise shook her head in disbelief. Having just come from a frustrating visit with Jimmy’s teacher, in which the woman all but came out and said that her son wasn’t getting enough attention at home, now Buddy’s teacher seemed to be implying the same thing.

  “He gets plenty of attention,” Louise insisted, pinning the teacher with a glare as the woman uncomfortably shuffled papers and grading records.

  “Mrs. Matthews…” the woman began. “As you know, I was Buddy’s teacher last year for third grade and now I switched to teaching fourth. All through third grade, Buddy was attentive, polite, quiet, and always had his work finished on time. Now, I’m afraid the situation is quite the opposite – he seems distracted in class, moody, even brooding. He’s been arguing with the other children, and on more than one occasion, he failed to turn in even a partially finished homework sheet. He, um…he says that he isn’t getting any help at home…”

  Louise sputtered and her heart began to pound. She cast about for something to say as guilt rose up within. Too many times lately, she had turned Buddy away when he had asked for help on his arithmetic or spelling. She had never been the best speller, since she, herself, hadn’t finished high school, but she was pretty good at math. Vic had always helped quiz the boys on their spelling words, but now he was usually too tired when he came home from the station. Tommy used to sometimes help, as well, so she explained in halting terms that Buddy’s older brother had become quite busy this school season since he had made the football team at Fern Creek, and no longer had the time to help his younger brothers after school as he once did. She said all of that while carefully avoiding the real issue – that she herself had all but stopped helping with homework.

  The teacher, Mrs. Barnes, gave her a knowing look. “Buddy indicated that…you had become quite…preoccupied with um…” she paused, indicating with a flick of one hand Louise’s obviously pregnant state.

  Louise again blustered, “Well, I admit I am looking forward to having this baby…I’m hoping for a girl this time…but that doesn’t mean that I’ve been neglecting Buddy and Jimmy. I resent you implying that I have,” she insisted, although privately she wondered just what Buddy had said to his teacher. Did he really think that?

  Mrs.
Barnes met Louise’s eyes and pursed her lips thoughtfully, obviously trying to decide what to say and what not to say. Finally, she opted for, “I see. Well, Buddy is a very bright boy and a good student. He has a keen mind and a flare for learning. I’m sure everything will smooth out once the baby comes and things get back to normal,” she added on a positive note, but her expression seemed to indicate that she truly felt the opposite.

  Feeling as if she had been thoroughly chastened, Louise stood and gathered her purse and jacket before extending her arm to shake hands with the teacher. “Thank you, Mrs. Barnes. My husband and I will have a talk with him.”

  Then, before the teacher could say anything else, Louise turned and fled the room.

  *

  That evening, she and Vic sat down with the boys and tried to have a parent-to-child talk. However, both boys, for the most part, sat nearly mute – only mumbling one word answers to direct questions. They kept glancing at one another as they sat side by side on the couch in the living room. The more Vic questioned the reason for their actions, the more they clammed up, only peering furtively at their mother. Neither boy seemed to want to be the one to volunteer anything specific.

  In frustration, Vic sent both boys to their rooms with instructions to finish their homework and to darn well do a perfect job of it. Once they left the living room, Vic stood and leaned down, brushing a kiss upon Louise’s lips as he informed her that he needed to run back to the station and finish up an emergency repair on a regular customer’s car.

  “But Vic! What…what about us spending time together…watching television or something…” Louise whined.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” Vic apologized. “I’ll try not to be long. Wait up for me, okay?” he added with what he hoped was sufficient charm as he leaned down once more and gave her a substantial kiss.

  She didn’t like that he was leaving, but she said no more, merely watched him remove from his pocket the keys to the truck and aim one more smile her way before he closed the door.

  Sulking, Louise levered herself up off the over-stuffed chair and flipped on the television set. Another evening spent alone.

  After spending only a few minutes watching the end of the news show, The Huntley-Brinkley Report, the next show to come on was The Price is Right. Normally she enjoyed it, but that night, sitting alone, it just didn’t hold her interest. The house seemed empty, with Vic back at the station, Tommy out with friends, and Lilly visiting her sister, Leona, and her husband, Frank, who had recently moved back to Louisville from California. Louise had turned down the invitation to go with them, as she wasn’t in the mood for celebrations.

  With a sigh, Louise leaned over to grasp the small pile of baby furniture catalogs laying on the coffee table. In no time, she was immersed in plans and dreams for her oft longed-for little girl’s bedroom – full of pink frills and lace. If truth be told, they were dreams that she’d had for a bedroom of her own while growing up. Back then, the thought of having her own room to do with whatever she wanted had been like wishing for the moon. Now, in doing that very thing for her own little girl, it would provide her with a bit of vicarious joy.

  Minutes later, deep in concentration over different baby beds and their prices, and wondering how she could talk Vic into such an investment, Louise felt a hand gently tap her shoulder. She glanced up only long enough to see it was her son, Buddy.

  “Mom? I’m stuck on a problem in my arithmetic homework…” he hesitantly explained.

  Completely forgetting the conference she’d had with his teacher earlier, Louise waved a hand in a vague motion, shooing him toward the hallway and the room he shared with his older brother. “Just keep trying on it, honey, you’ll figure it out.”

  As she reached for a scrap piece of paper to add up the purchase price of several items for the dream room, she didn’t see his downcast expression, nor did she notice when he turned in a defeated manner and retraced his steps to his room.

  *

  Two weeks later, the boys brought home their report cards, but were loathe to show them, as they both had ended up with a glaring D in one subject. Buddy still wasn’t doing well in mathematics, and Jimmy was still having trouble with his spelling. After supper, Vic sat them both down with the intention of giving them a strong lecture.

  “I just don’t know what to think about this, you two. Seems like we’ve had a talk about your schoolwork before. I’ve a good mind to tell you both that you can’t go trick-or-treating on Halloween. You know that?”

  Suddenly breaking his silence, Buddy blurted, “But Mom promised she’d help, but she’s not! It don’t even seem like she loves us anymore – she’s always thinking about baby stuff!” he added, obviously fighting to hold back tears. It was easy to see in his expressive eyes that he wanted to please his parents and make them proud, but was quite frustrated by the unavoidable circumstances.

  Louise’s heart began to thump as the guilt surged. She looked up from the small pink dress she had been stitching, first to Buddy’s hurt look, then her husband’s accusing stare, and then to Jimmy’s solemn hazel gaze. She moistened suddenly dry lips and opened her mouth to deny the accusation, but stopped, drawing the unfinished dress up to her chest. Embarrassed, she looked down at the item, and then back up at Buddy.

  “Oh honey…you’re right…I’ve been so pre-occupied with trying to get everything ready for the new baby, that I…” she paused, floundering. “I’m sorry…”

  Vic continued to stare at his wife, at a loss about how to deal with the situation. He had truly thought things had gotten better – or at least, he had told himself they had. However, a memory of overhearing a conversation earlier in the week between all three of their boys, surfaced. The door to Tommy and Buddy’s room had been ajar as Vic had made his way down the hall and he had overheard Tommy say, “Yeah, I know what you’re saying, Bro. She’s a lot different than she used to be.” Then he had emitted a soft snort and added, “Last week, I thought she’d blow a gasket when she saw the newspaper article where I got arrested for drag racing, but she didn’t say a word about it…”

  Vic had continued on down the hall, telling himself that he needed to have a talk with their oldest about obeying traffic laws, but the comment, for some reason, had quickly left his mind.

  Now, as he watched his wife hemming and hawing, Vic knew he had not realized the extent of the family’s problem. Clearing his throat, he murmured, “Boys, go on down to your room. Your Mama and me are gonna talk about this. We’ll call you in a few minutes.”

  Neither boy hesitated, but shot up off the couch as one and made tracks to vacate the room.

  Once they were gone, Louise met her husband’s eyes, obviously guilt-ridden. “Vic…we shouldn’t punish them and not let them go trick-or-treating. It’s my fault more than theirs.”

  Vic huffed out a breath, leaning forward, elbows on his knees and rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he shook his head. “Babe…what’s goin’ on? I ain’t ever seen you like this before. Why are you so hung up about this baby? You weren’t like this with the others…”

  She pressed her lips together and met his gaze, striving to put her feelings into words.

  “I just…I want a little girl so bad…it’s all I think about. I’m so tired of being in a house with nothing but messy boys!” she burst out, but then clamped her teeth on her bottom lip as she waited for his reaction to such a statement.

  Vic stared at her, a myriad of emotions and thoughts rolling through his consciousness. He felt shocked and hurt that his normally sweet, loving wife now seemed so different – almost as if she didn’t love him and the boys anymore. For a moment, he wondered if she was even losing her hold on reality. Images and memories ticked by of instances in the past year – things that he had swept under the rug, but now he reached under and pulled them back out to examine – his wife snapping at him and the boys, which was something she never used to do in the early days of their marriage. He sensed a feeling of deep dissatisfaction lurk
ing within his normally even-tempered wife, but he couldn’t put his finger on the root cause – and he certainly didn’t want to believe that she was dissatisfied with him. Of all the marriages he’d witnessed, he would have wagered that theirs was one of, if not the strongest, most loving. Recollections of his brother Jack’s wife Liz came to mind, but he steadfastly pushed them away. No, my Louise would never turn into such a shrew.

  He’d looked away from her as the thoughts sailed through, but now he looked back and met her eyes – those lovely hazel eyes that always made him melt like a chocolate bar on a hot day. No, she’s still my sweet Mary Lou. We’ll get through this, just like everything else that has happened since we got together. Flood, arguments, separation, ex-husbands, job problems, crazy landlords, live-in mother in laws…even deaths, haven’t put a damper on our feelings for each other.

  Unbidden, several occurrences of the boys leaving messes or Tommy stuffing smelly gym clothes under his bed instead of putting them in the hamper came to mind, just then, and he began to chuckle. “Yeah, I guess us guys do make a lot of extra work for you ladies. Them tracking in dirt and leaves…me dragging in oil and grease from the station. I guess that’s just the nature of the beast,” he teased with a wink.

  Louise laughed softly, relieved that he wasn’t angry. She reached out and clasped his hand.

  “I promise I’ll try to pay more attention to them, like I should. I…I guess I just expected everyone to be as excited about the new baby as I am.”

  Vic smiled and tugged on her hand, drawing her over to the couch with him. Cuddling her against his firm chest, he kissed her soundly – and then kissed her again. Settling together in a warm snuggle, he murmured, “I guess the rest of us don’t know how you’re feelin’…the baby’s part of you, so it’s more real to ya, and on your mind all the time…”

  “She’s more real,” Louise interrupted, teasingly insistent, her eyes twinkling under raised eyebrows.