Dear Carolina (24 page)

“Well, then let's face the fact that we're going to have to suffer through a long weekend of mai tais on a sparkling beach with our personal butler spreading our towels out in our cabana.”

I rolled over onto my left side heavily and said, “Not to mention the caviar and top-shelf liquor that will be forced on us at Laura's five-star launch party.”

Graham kissed me and said, “You're right, honey. I'm being silly. As long as my family's there, I'll be okay.”

“Great,” I said, unable to keep my eyes open.

A shot of panic ran through me that another baby was about to be here, and I was going to be even more tired. Knowing that my friends and family would help share baby duty felt like the time I borrowed Mother's favorite Chanel bag without permission, lost it, and then found it in Charlie's trunk. I was bathing in relief. In truth, I didn't know how we were going to handle all of these babies running around and work at the same time. That reminded me that tomorrow, without excuse, I had to start looking for a nanny. About that time, you started crying, and I pulled the covers back and rushed to your side. You were standing up in your crib, fat tears rolling down your chubby cheeks. I picked you up and put you on my hip as best I could with a tremendous roadblock between us. I kissed your little forehead and said, “Do you want to sleep with Mommy and Daddy tonight?”

You laid your head on my shoulder, and I knew for certain that no achievement in life—no book deal, no million-dollar sale,
no Nobel Prize—could top the feeling of a tiny child resting her head on your body and dozing off. I was practiced at having children in my bed, so even having you on one side and Alex on the other didn't hinder my sleep.

The ringing phone beside my ear, however, did. Graham could have slept through a tractor-trailer ramming right through our room, but I was a much lighter sleeper. By some miraculous transpiration, the phone woke neither you nor your brother, but my heart was racing. Graham had been right all those months ago, after all. People do answer the phone in the middle of the night because they automatically assume it's an emergency. In those seconds before I said, “Hello,” my mind leapt to so many worst-case scenarios. Daddy had had a heart attack, the house had been broken into, Pauline had passed away peacefully in her sleep. When I heard my sister Virginia's voice on the other line, I started crying right then and there. We didn't talk that often, so for her to call me in the middle of the night, something must have been wrong with Mother or Daddy.

It sounds terribly selfish, I know, but I was a little relieved when she sobbed into the phone, “Allen left me.”

I picked up the cordless and tiptoed into my bathroom, where I shut the door, sat down on the closed toilet lid, and said, “Oh, honey, what happened?”

“He's found someone else,” she wailed.

How could that creep Allen have gotten one woman, much less two?
I thought.

I told Virginia that she was welcome to come over, though where she would have slept is beyond me as we were Bethlehem on a cold, December night. There was literally no room at the inn.

“I'll come over tomorrow to talk,” she sniffed. I yawned and padded back to my bed, and when I got back between the sheets, I realized that they were wet. I figured that your diaper had leaked,
but when I touched your pajamas, you were bone dry. That's when I noticed that I was soaking wet too, from more than your average pregnant night sweats. I guess the shock of being woken in the middle of the night and the focus I had on what Virginia was saying had prevented me from realizing it before.

“Graham,” I hissed, finally awake enough to realize that the disgusting squish I kept feeling was my broken water. “Graham,” I whispered again, this time a little louder.

“It's okay, sweetheart,” he mumbled. “We'll get it in the morning.”

I threw a baby shoe at him, and he finally opened his eyes. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because I'm in labor.”

Graham rubbed his eyes, bolted up in bed straight as a ship's mast, and ran to his closet. He began tossing things in a bag. I looked over his shoulder.

“Honey,” I said, “why would you need a ruler?”

He shrugged. “Don't I have to tell you how many centimeters you are or something?”

I shook my head. I realized why my poor husband had begged me to go to a birthing class. He truly was clueless. “Should we wake the kids to tell them bye?”

Graham shook his head. “Nah. Just tell Charlie what's going on. May as well let them sleep while they can.” He winked at me.

Perhaps I shouldn't have even woken Charlie because, by the time the nurse had admitted me to my hospital room, Charlie, Greg, Mother, Daddy, Pauline, and Jodi were all there. You were soundly asleep in your car seat, and Alex was snoring again, arms flailed, face mushed into Greg's shoulder.

Charlie said, “I called Stacey too, and she said she'll be here before things get really rough. Just in case, she e-mailed me a list of poses for you to do.”

Stacey was my best friend in New York slash yoga instructor slash birth coach with Alex. I would never have made it through without her.

I was thankful that everyone was so interested in my birth, this crazy, patchwork quilt of a family that we were. But now that we were at the hospital, I had one overarching thought. I looked at Graham and said, “It's too early.”

At that moment, Dr. Painter breezed into my room and said, “You're thirty-seven weeks, Frances. That's full-term.” He elbowed Daddy in the ribs. “At least it was back when I was in medical school.” They had a good laugh—Daddy and Dr. Painter had gone to high school together—and Charlie and I rolled our eyes in unison.

I shouldn't have worried about having to defend myself. Mother said, “My child and my grandchild are at stake here. Maybe we could all be a little more composed.”

“I'm going to check you now,” Dr. Painter said.

I looked around the room at the massive number of people and said, “Oh, no, don't worry. Please, everyone stay.”

They must have taken me literally because Daddy and Greg actually sat down. “Fantastic,” I said under my breath.

Dr. Painter reached underneath the sheet, and announced, “Five centimeters! Is this girl a pro, or what?” Then his forehead crinkled, and I panicked. He rolled back on the stool, popped his glove off, and said, “Looks like this little one decided to do a last-minute flip.”

Charlie gasped. “Do not try to turn the baby!”

As horrified as I was, I actually laughed. “Why on earth not?”

“Because I read that babies born breech have magical healing powers,” Greg interrupted.

Charlie shot him a look. “Noooo, Greg. Because I read that it can hurt the baby.”

Greg looked at me seriously. “The healing powers thing is true too, though. I swear.”

“I think you should do a C-section,” Mother interjected.

Daddy said, “Perhaps you should let the doctor make the decision,” and Mother said under her breath, “Just trying to help her have a baby with a pretty head, is all.”

Dr. Painter, who was a generally jovial man, put on his sternest face and said, “If you weren't there when this child was conceived, if you could please leave.”

Everyone left but Charlie. I looked at her and said, “I don't recall you being there when this child was conceived, love.”

She crossed her arms. “I know. But I got to be in the room when Alex was born, so, you know, I just kind of assumed . . .”

I squinted at her. “Charlie, you threw up all over the floor, and one of the nurses holding my leg had to come clean up after you.”

She shrugged. “Practice makes perfect?”

Graham waved to her and, looking dejected, our last stray family member made her way to the waiting room.

When it was finally quiet, Graham lay down beside me and put his arm around me, rubbing my belly.

“We can try to turn the baby,” Dr. Painter said. “But there are risks.”

“I don't want risks,” I said. “Let's do the C-section and call it a night.”

Graham looked at Dr. Painter. “But that's more dangerous for Khaki, right?”

Dr. Painter got up and started washing his hands. “Every procedure has its risks, but Frances is in excellent health and should come through a routine cesarean beautifully.”

“Okay,” I said, looking at Graham. “When they pull the baby out, you go with the baby.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, don't stay with me. Follow the baby around, don't let it out of your sight, and bring it right back here to me as soon as you can.”

Dr. Painter laughed. “The baby will be tagged at birth. There's no way to get them mixed up.”

“Dr. Painter,” I said. “With all due respect, I've seen enough of those Lifetime movies that I'm not taking any chances.”

He laughed and said, “I'm going to go get ready, and the nurse will come in to get you and Dad prepped for surgery.”

“Send my family in, please,” I called.

Charlie burst in the door first and said, “Stacey and Joe aren't here yet.”

“Well, by all means, let me stay in labor another five or six hours until they arrive.”

She sat on the edge of the bed and kissed my head. “I'm just teasing you. It's going to be fine, you know.”

I looked at Jodi. “Could you bring me my babies, please?”

Pauline came in carrying Alex, and I could tell by the way her lips were moving that she was praying harder than a sinner on his deathbed. And I was awfully glad of it. Alex climbed into bed beside me and examined my IV line. “Why do you have all these tubes, Mommy?”

I could feel the tears pouring down my face as I said, “Because you have to have tubes to have a baby.”

It was the simplest explanation I could think of. Charlie handed you to me, and I smelled that sweet baby smell at the top of your head and held you close. You were still for a moment and then looked up and smiled at me with the two tiny bottom teeth you were so proud of.

“I hope I don't take your childhood away from you,” I whispered.

It was like you knew what I was saying. You leaned up and gave me the openmouthed, slobbery “kiss” that you had been perfecting.

“I promise that we'll still spend tons of time together.”

Graham rubbed my neck. “Honey,” he said. “You heard what Dr. Painter said. It's a routine procedure, and they do it all the time.”

Then I started crying again. “I know that,” I said. “I just realized that their lives are going to change so much, and they don't even know it.”

Alex peered into my face and said, “Mommy, is my new baby coming out today?”

“Yes, love. Your new baby is coming out.”

He nodded in approval. “That's good, because Carolina needs another person to play with.”

“Why is that, sweetie?”

He shrugged. “Oh, you know. I like to play with her but sometimes she gets ignoring.”

We all laughed. I kissed you both again, and my heart was breaking into fragments because you sobbed as Mother took you away from me.

I waved good-bye to everyone, and Graham reclined beside me again, one leg on the floor. “You know what, babydoll?”

“What?”

“Their lives are going to change but in such a good way. They are going to have a blast growing up together.”

Less than an hour later, when Dr. Painter handed your sister to me, I realized that Graham, as usual, had been right. In that instant, I quit worrying. I knew that this beautiful baby had been given to our family out of one thing and one thing alone: God's amazing grace.

A TICKING TIME BOMB

Every damn body thinks they can grow a garden. I always hear people sayin', “Oh, yeah. I think I'm going to grow my own vegetables in my yard this year.” They don't have a dag dern clue. They don't get how much time it takes, how you gotta commit your whole self. Them crops, they'd just as soon break your heart as grow for you to eat 'em. It's the same thing with babies. You get to spending some time around a baby, and you start thinking you know what being a momma's like. You don't. I mean, I only been a momma for two weeks, but there ain't no comparison between taking care a' somebody else's baby and having your own. And it ain't just being so sore and tired your body gets to feeling like it's superglued to the couch. You're all weepy and you don't never know what's gonna make them waterworks start flowing like a hydrant being tested.

Khaki, she was having to go through all that mess, but she were so happy because her best friend Stacey from New York got
there an hour after Grace was born. So Stacey, Charlie, Mrs. Mason, and me was all helpin' her out.

I damn near got to crying, that girl was hurtin' so bad. The social worker mighta turned up her nose, but I couldn't help myself. I said, “I'm staying a night here and there to help you out. I can at least bring Grace to you when she gets hungry.” I waited, but she didn't say nothin'. “I mean, I'll come after Carolina's sleepin'.”

“But, Jodi, you have to work. I don't want you to get worn out helping me.”

I shook my head. “I can nap for a couple a' hours most days.”

I mean, yeah, I wanted to help Khaki real bad. But I was also real scared. Every time that trailer got to groaning or creaking I was convinced it was Ricky coming for me. In the light a' day, I weren't that nervous. I mean, I knew Ricky would take Khaki's daddy real serious. But it was like every time I walked through that door I could just remember me being pinned up against that counter, them crazy eyes a' his flashing. And my palms would get to sweatin', my heart racing and my throat getting all dry.

Khaki nodded. She tried right hard to smile but it didn't take. “I hate to say yes. But I really want to. You know?”

I knew damn well better than she could ever imagine. I knew when I let them keep you. I knew when I took a job and health insurance. I knew that sometimes a girl don't have many good choices but to say yes. It don't matter what my daddy said.

Khaki patted the comforter beside her, like she was inviting me in. I snuggled in all close, fighting real hard not to close my eyes. “Jodi,” she said, “why on earth would you think that you shouldn't have any more children?”

Buddy and Khaki, they was about the two worst secret keepers in the world. I shrugged. “I cain't imagine having another
youngen. Then I'd know how good they was and know that I'd give one up.”

“Honey,” Khaki said. She tried to lean forward, winced, and then lay back down. “You can't punish yourself forever.”

But I think she got where I was coming from. Having a baby and thinkin' on what you give up—that were punishment.

She sighed. “So how's the stuff Patrick wanted you to prepare coming? Is there anything I can help with?”

“It sure is nice a' him to spend so much time helping me get the book ready and all before they even decide if they're gonna buy it.”

Khaki smiled. “Patrick's a good one. He just thought a manuscript would be stronger than a proposal in this case, and, looking at it all coming together, I have to say it's amazing.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “And even if they cain't publish it, I'm real happy that all them family recipes is in one place so I can pass 'em down. I almost got it all done for you to take a look at 'fore I send it back.”

I could hear you fussing just a little, ready to get outta the crib.

I turned to walk down the hall to get you. But then I turned back around right quick. “Thanks for makin' it so I could do this. You never know. It might be my ticket outta here.”

Khaki gasped. “Out of here! You want to leave Kinston?”

“I'll still see Carolina every week. Won't nothing come 'fore that.”

The doorbell rung before we could finish talkin'. I grabbed you and ran downstairs.

“I thought I might find you here,” Buddy said, when I opened the door.

I smiled, my legs feelin' right like Jell-O.

“I was just thinking,” Buddy said, “you been here workin' so much I thought you might want a little rest. I can make it through the market alone this week if you wanna catch up on your sleep.”

I guessed Buddy didn't know that goin' to the market with him's the best part a' my week. I shook my head. “Nah. I like bein' there right good. Kinda feels like home, you know?”

He smiled. “All right. I didn't want you to quit coming or nothin'. I's just trying to be gentlemanly.”

I could feel that blush rising up my cheeks. He was getting ready to walk away, and I realized I didn't want him to. “So, Buddy,” I said, real quick before he could get turned around good, “speaking a' the market, I got something I've been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes. I'll plant fall crops and help you keep going to the market all year round.”

“Are you sure, I mean—”

He put his hand up to his cowboy hat and shook his head. “Jodi, I know you're still right young so maybe you don't get this without me being real clear: I'd do pretty much anything in this world for you.”

I couldn't believe he said that. My heart was poundin' so hard I couldn't even say nothing.

So Buddy just kept on. “You and me both know them parsnips'll make it all year and the garlic too. We can plant us some peas and onions, rutabaga, arugula, cauliflower. I thought we'd do some herbs too. Cilantro and dill do real good in the cold.”

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my consciousness from Buddy saying he'd do near anything for me. My voice came out kinda shaky when I said, “That sounds great. Peas is one of my
favorite things to can. They were my grandma's favorite. And dill is so good on them pickles I want to make.”

“Great,” Buddy said. “It's a plan. I love working, so I'm right excited about the whole thing.”

Right then, that sister a' Khaki's, she didn't even say hello, just ran on past me and Buddy like we weren't even there.

Buddy raised his eyebrows and said, “Well, I guess I oughta let you get back to it.”

“Hey, thanks,” I said. “It's real good for me to be working.”

Buddy winked at me. “It's right good for us all.”

I closed the door and followed Khaki's sister, practically floatin' on a cloud from gettin' to see Buddy when I weren't even expecting it. I turned my face right up toward yours, thinkin' how it really did feel like you was my niece now. When they said something 'bout you being their girl, I didn't even think,
Yeah, because you carried and gave birth to her
. There hadn't been one time lately I'd tried to stuff you in my shirt and get you on back to the trailer with me.

Virginia, she barely peered in at Grace and said, “Oh, she's beautiful.”

She lay right up there beside Khaki and them tears started flowing and a-flowing.

Seeing as how she just give birth, that Khaki got to cryin' real hard too. She said, “Please stop crying. It hurts my incision.”

I handed Khaki a tissue, and Virginia grabbed it outta my hand real quick. I rolled my eyes big enough that she could see. I weren't nobody's sister, but I knew it weren't okay to dump your problems on a new momma no matter who she is.

But Khaki, she got to comforting Virginia. “It's okay, sis. You're going to be fine. You're going to find someone new and better, and you're not even going to miss Allen.”

“But I've been with him since high school,” she sobbed. “I haven't been on a date in twenty years.”

Khaki nodded real supportive and sobbed back, “When Alex died, and I had to start dating again, it was so awful. I wished he would be alive and I didn't have to find another man to love me.”

I weren't sure it's exactly the same when your husband dies as when he leaves you for his daughter's preschool teacher. I rolled my eyes again. I ain't never been too tough. I mean, I let men walk all over me and my momma tell me I ruined her life and was too afraid to go for some things I really wanted. But I was gettin' just good-feeling enough from my new job and whatnot that I started to stand up for myself—and the people I loved—a little bit more. Plus, I'd been up dern near all night trying to perfect my recipe for dilled green bean pickles, figuring if the flavor was better when they was hot packed or cold packed. My fingers were sorer than all get-out from that bean snapping, and I'd had just about enough.

“Virginia,” I said real firm like. “I gotta get Alex, and Khaki, she needs to get to napping.”

It were like she weren't even crying all a' sudden. “It's okay. I'll stay here with Khaki and get her anything if she needs it.”

I made my lips real tight and thin. “Visiting hours is over.”

Virginia looked at Khaki real sad like she's some puppy needs saving, but Khaki shrugged. “Whatever the nurse says.”

“I don't know who you think you are,” Virginia hissed like a wet cat as I walked her to the door.

For the first time in my entire life I didn't
think
I was anyone. I damn well knew.