Almost As Much (The Cherished Memories Book 3)

by Linda Ellen

  Tears came to Louise’s eyes. His heart sank. “I’m sorry, babe. When I woke up this morning, I coulda kicked myself for not just tellin’ the nurse we’d do it today…”

  “You were drinking and named our baby a name we hadn’t discussed?” she finally asked, her voice rising with each word.

  “I’m sorry sir, but visiting hours are over. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the nurse’s voice interrupted. From the look on her stern face, which seemed as starched and stiff as her crisp white uniform and cap, it was obvious that she knew she was disrupting something important. “Rules are rules, and they must be followed – to the letter.” She took the baby from Louise’s arms and placed her in the bassinet. Seeing that the couple was just staring at one another, she touched Vic’s sleeve and repeated, “You need to leave, sir. You can come back first thing in the morning,” she added helpfully.

  With a huge sigh, Vic mumbled, “All right, I’m goin’,” and stepped closer, bending down to try and give his wife a kiss goodnight – but she turned her face away.

  “Goodnight Vic. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  He hated leaving with her acting so aghast and hurt, but there wasn’t anything else he could do. Feeling defeated, he turned toward the door and slowly walked out.

  *

  Her name isn’t Anita Louise. It’s Linda Ellen. Linda Ellen. Linda Ellen.

  Louise fussed with the covers, unable to sleep.

  Why did Vic do that? It had taken her so by surprise she hadn’t had time to process what he’d said. They hadn’t even discussed naming the baby that, should it be a girl. She’d told him several times the name she’d picked out – Anita Louise. The name she had always wanted to name a little girl of her own should she ever have one. She’d told him her reasons why she wanted that name. And he forgot? And now, it was too late. Louise had asked the nurse about it after Vic walked out the door, but the woman had indicated that once the paperwork had been sent to Frankfort, which it had, and the name was published in the newspaper, which it had been, it was too late. Too late…

  Turning her head to look out the tall windows at the end of the ward, near her bed, her eyes slowly filled with tears. Postpartum blues had hit with a vengeance once Vic and the others had gone. Louise didn’t know if her tears were because of that, the mix-up about her daughter’s name, or a combination of both, but whatever the reason, tears turned to sobs as she gave up trying to get her feelings under control.

  Why did everything in her life seem to be hopeless and working against her?

  It was one of the longest nights of her life.

  ‡

  CHAPTER 21

  The Attack

  “Jimmy, Buddy, stop running in the house. Go on outside and play,” Louise scolded as she fastened a pair of tiny white patent leather shoes on the baby. Bouncing up and down, five-month-old Linda squirmed, attracted by her brothers’ shenanigans and wishing to join in the fun. She couldn’t, of course; she was much too young.

  It was the first week of May, almost Easter, and Louise had gotten the most darling Easter outfit for her little girl, as well as new outfits for the boys, new slacks for Tommy and Vic, and even new dresses for Lilly and herself. She had suffered a small twinge of guilt about spending so much, but she’d pushed it aside, maintaining that she worked hard and had waited years to enjoy life, and now she deserved it. After all, she reasoned, you only live once. There was a beer commercial that played during one of her favorite television shows whose slogan repeated in her mind and now floated through again, “Live life, every golden minute of it…enjoy Budweiser, every golden drop of it!” Of course, she didn’t drink beer, but the snappy slogan really resonated within her heart.

  “There now, pussycat. How do you like your new Easter outfit?” she asked the baby in a singsong voice as she scooped her up and settled her in her arms.

  Linda, Louise mused. “When your daddy first named you Linda, I didn’t like it. I wanted to name you Anita Louise, but he beat me to the punch…him and those brothers of his,” she told the baby as she bounced her on her hip, both of them looking into the dresser mirror. The baby reached out one tiny hand toward their reflections, emitting a cute giggle. “But now…I think they were right to do it. It suits you,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to her baby girl’s soft cheek.

  Thinking back to the early days after her little girl’s birth, Louise shook her head when she remembered how she had cried and fussed over her name. She’d let herself get downright depressed over it, as if it were the end of the world. The next morning after a fitful night with practically no sleep, she had grabbed the nurse’s arm as soon as she was near and asked if she would check again about the possibility of them filling out another birth certificate. The nurse, however – a large, buxom woman with a no-nonsense personality – had given her an emphatic NO, without even checking. She had insisted that all birth certificates were filed the following morning after receipt in the office, and nothing short of going to court to change the name would alter it.

  Louise had pouted, sulked, and treated Vic with quite the cold shoulder, until the day before she was to be released from the hospital. She had been standing at the large windows looking into the nursery, gazing with pride and pleasure at her longed-for little girl, when an elderly woman standing next to her struck up a conversation. The woman asked which was her baby, and then had pointed out her own grandchild, a robust, dark-haired boy she called, “Little Pete.” After a few minutes, Louise had commented about the name she had chosen for her little girl and the circumstances as to why that wasn’t her name.

  The old woman had pondered this for a moment, admiring Louise’s baby sleeping peacefully in the hospital bassinet.

  “Linda…that means beautiful in Spanish, you know. And in Old England, Ellen meant bright, shining light. So I’d say he picked a wonderful name for your baby girl. It fits her, from what I can see.” She paused for a minute, both of the women standing together companionably as Louise thought about what the woman had just told her.

  The elderly matron cast a sidelong glance at Louise, nodded with sage wisdom, and continued with a glimmer in her eye. “I wouldn’t make him stay in the doghouse over it.”

  Louise had thanked her and then had slowly made her way back up to the ward, the old woman’s words reverberating in her mind. Linda Ellen…it does have a nice ring to it, she finally admitted privately. When Vic had come for his visit that evening, he found a much more agreeable Louise returning his kiss of greeting.

  Now, she turned back to her bed. Sitting the baby down, she began to remove her Easter outfit so it wouldn’t become ruined before Sunday. Taking a quick look over at the crib pushed up into the corner of the crowded bedroom, she hummed, “Oh, I’ll be so happy when we get a bigger house and you can have your own room. Would you like that, sweetie?”

  The baby just gurgled and responded with a few unintelligible sounds as her mother worked at changing her clothing.

  Louise had been badgering Vic, claiming that they needed a bigger house. For the past month, she had been scouring the newspaper for homes for sale and even taking the kids along with her and Lilly to tour new home subdivisions, imagining them acquiring her dream home. Four bedrooms, full basement, garage, two bathrooms… When we get that, then everything will be perfect. I’ll have no more worries or concerns. We can live in comfort, and not be cramped together in a small house. Surely then, everyone will be happy and content. She refused to acknowledge, however, that none of the other family members seemed to mention being uncomfortable in the house on Granvil Drive.

  Although they had not been in the Buechel house for very long, in just these few short years, Louise had become more and more dissatisfied with it. She constantly complained to Lilly and to Vic that there was no storage space, since it had no basement, and the bedrooms were too small for the now six people to live comfortably. When everyone was around the kitchen table, there was hardly any room to maneuver, she would remind him. And
the one lane driveway – they always seemed to be playing musical vehicles now that Tommy had his own car. If friends came to visit, they were forced to park out on the street! “It’s not the thirties anymore. The Depression is over. It’s nearly the 1960’s! We shouldn’t have to live like sardines anymore,” she would tell her silent, moody husband. He would just listen and nod, never sharing his thoughts.

  Finished with the baby’s change of clothes, Louise picked her up and made her way into the kitchen, going over her list of plans on everything that needed to be done for Easter Sunday. We have to dye the Easter eggs, make the baskets, buy the chicken and everything for Sunday dinner…oh and I need to buy film and batteries for the camera…and maybe more flash bulbs in case we get stuck inside, since the darn forecast is for rain…

  The boys came back inside just then, but Louise immediately shooed them back out the door. They whined and complained that they had nothing to do and so she relented a bit, giving both a cookie as she told them to take a ride around the block on their bicycles. The two just looked at one another, lifted shoulders with identical sighs of boredom, took the cookies from their mother, and went back outside.

  “Come on, Jimmy, let’s find something to do,” she heard Buddy say as the back door slammed shut behind them.

  *

  Vic unconsciously rubbed his chest against an unfamiliar feeling and drew in a deep shuddering breath as he poured the last of the coffee from the station’s stained pot into a grease-smudged porcelain coffee cup with the Frisch’s logo on the side. Always taking his coffee black, he lifted it to his lips and took a sip. He grimaced at the strong brew, but took a large gulp anyway, thinking it might boost his energy. His nerves, however, felt frazzled and he seemed more tired than usual.

  Once spring had arrived, customers seemed to be coming out of the woodwork – or their winter dens, as Floyd liked to say. Vic figured there were many reasons for that. One explanation – he’d had lots of weekend fuel customers with people taking Saturday or Sunday drives out to take a look at the new building going up right next-door to the station. From the looks of it, it was going to be huge. Vic had never seen anything like it before and it seemed that everyone wanted to take a gander at its construction.

  A large sign at the edge of the property indicated it was to be called simply, “The Mall”, and the Courier had said it would be the first enclosed suburban shopping mall in the state of Kentucky. The sign said it would house an A&P grocery, Kaufman-Straus, Rose’s Department Store, and many other smaller stores. The newspaper had also said it would have a children’s play area, including some painted concrete turtle characters to climb on, and an oversize chess set. When he had first heard the news, Vic wondered if it would take business away from the downtown department stores, but he’d quickly dismissed that notion. Who’d want to wander through a warehouse when you could drive right up to the store you want downtown, get what you need, and get out?

  Often, Vic made it a point to try and stand out in the back of the station and watch the progress when he had a few minutes, knowing he was viewing a piece of history in the making. However, those minutes had been few and far between, lately.

  “You need to slow down, son,” his friend and mentor, Doc Latham, had told him just the week before when he had stopped in from seeing a friend in the “East End” and filled his car up with gas.

  “I know, I know, but I got too much to do to stop. I’ll take a break later,” Vic had waved off Doc’s concern. Now, his words came back to niggle at Vic’s consideration. Maybe I should slow down…but how?

  “Have you prayed about it?” Doc had asked, and Vic’s conscience pricked once again. No, he had not.

  Putting down his coffee cup, he reached into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette, and found the package empty. Taking it out, he frowned down at it and crushed the paper in his fist, before sending it across the office and toward the trashcan in the corner. He missed. With a scowl, he noticed he had done the same thing on about four other occasions, and they were lying all around the base of the can. With another tired sigh, he trudged the few steps over and bent down to pick them up. When he straightened, he felt light-headed for a moment. Mmm, too much caffeine, maybe…or maybe not enough, he mused as he headed over to the cigarette machine, unlocked the front, swung it open, and took out a pack of Lucky Strikes, telling himself he would put the money in for it at the end of the day.

  Ripping off the top of the wrapper, he took out a smoke, slipped his hand in his trouser pocket for his lighter, and lit the end of the cigarette. Walking a few steps to the front windows as he stashed the new pack in his shirt pocket, he stood for a few moments with his feet spread, taking in deep drags of the flavored smoke and blowing it up over his head in circles. Silently surveying his domain, he watched the cars come and go as Floyd and Duke worked quickly to see to their needs.

  A new model Olds 98 was just rolling away from the pumps and that immediately put him to remembering another Olds – one heading his way and giving him barely a moment to jump out of the line of trajectory. Remembering that sight made a shiver run through his body. Never had he been so frightened.

  Vic turned his head and looked over at the sidewall of windows, his new desk, new telephone, and repaired concrete blocks. The Phillips team had done a good job of putting things to rights after the accident. Now, you couldn’t tell it had even happened.

  But that sent Louise into early labor…and then me, Al, and Jack named the baby wrong…oh man. What a day that was. At least Louise finally warmed up to our little girl’s name…thank goodness.

  With another drag on his cigarette, he gazed to the right a bit, his eyes lighting onto one of the U-Haul trailers that had been returned in a pretty sad condition earlier in the week. The renter had not made sure of the connection onto the hitch of his car, and the trailer had broken loose in heavy traffic, spinning and smashing into a guardrail. Luckily no one had been injured – but that was another expense Matthews Service Station had to eat, because the trailers were his responsibility. Insurance was offered at the time of rental, but not everyone took it. That guy hadn’t. He claimed it was Floyd’s mistake that had caused the accident. Vic knew better, but there was no way to prove it. Just another thing added to my plate. Like I need something else. Now, I gotta get that trailer fixed before it can be rented out again.

  Just then his eye caught movement and he shifted his gaze to the left. Charlie Borders was coming over from the Frisch’s next door, carrying a covered dish. Vic smiled at his friend’s thoughtfulness. He musta looked over here and saw I didn’t leave for lunch, so he’s bringin’ me something. He nodded at Charlie as the man stepped up on the sidewalk in front of the office and walked to the open door.

  “Hey there, Matthews,” Borders greeted, handing him the bowl. “Thought I’d take a break, stretch my legs, and see how the repairs are coming along on my Ford. Had a little of your usual left over from the lunch rush. On the house,” he added with a friendly wink.

  Vic peeked under the napkin and noted the hot, greasy chili, crackers already crumbled onto it just the way he liked. He had smelled it before Charlie even reached the door. Nothing smelled like Frisch’s hot and spicy chili. His nostrils celebrated and his mouth watered at the aroma.

  “Thanks, pal,” he uttered as he accepted the gift, turning to sit at his desk and scarf down the offering. He chased the first mouthful with a swig of his coffee. “I ran into a snag on your Ford,” he mumbled between bites. “One of the plugs in the back broke off when I put the muscle to it. Gonna take longer to fix.”

  Vic didn’t add that he had yelled a few choice words in frustration and threw the wrench clear out the bay door. His son, Buddy, had been at the station when it had happened, and he had run to pick up the tool for his father. The picture of his son witnessing him allowing his temper get the best of him flashed across Vic’s conscience and he scowled at the memory. The guilt pinched at him with the knowledge that his son had heard him cuss.

&
nbsp; “Well, that’s okay,” Charlie replied. “I’ll get the wife to pick me up again. Hey,” he added with a teasing grin. “You get that all-important call yet?”

  Vic knew he meant a call from the WAKY radio station and he glowered at his friend playfully as he took a big mouthful of the deliciously thick concoction, relishing the spicy burn as it flowed down into his gut. He’d deal with the heartburn later. “Not yet, but I will,” he answered, adding a few salty names for his friend that would rival the heat of the chili. Both men chuckled at their jovial competition.

  “Sorry to hear about your man breaking his foot the other day,” Charlie offered as he perched on the edge of the desk. Having noticed business had picked up lately; he guessed that Vic would feel the absence of his extra employee. “That’s a tough break. You gonna hire somebody temporary to replace him?”

  Vic thought about the freak accident. A one-dollar gas customer had recklessly pulled away too quickly, rolling over the foot of his part-time man and crushing several bones. He would be out at least a month, the doctor had said.

  “I don’t know. It’s such a doggone pain to find good help, especially if they know it’s only for a short time. But business has picked up, so I’ll probably have to…” he paused as he heard the driveway bells ding and his name being called.

  Floyd, outside at the pumps, yelled, “Hey boss, we’re covered up out here! Can you give us a hand for a few?”