Detours (32 page)

Anna fled from the table. Adam and Barry resumed their seats.

Mary looked around at the familiar strangers seated around the table. “I… I don’t know what to say…”

“What’s to say, sis?” Gloria picked up the bowl of peas in front of her. “Let’s eat before everything gets cold.”

“What about Mother?” Mary asked.

“She’ll stomp and huff for the rest of the day, but by the time we’re making turkey sandwiches out of the leftovers tonight, she’ll act as though it’s been a typical Thanksgiving.”

“How can you be so sure?” Mary asked.

“I’m not, but can you picture her not being involved in our lives?” Gloria dished peas onto Amber’s plate and passed the bowl to Naomi. “We need to present a united front, like when we were kids and wanted to get bigger allowances or later bedtimes.”

“This is way bigger than bedtime or an extra fifty cents.” Mary picked up the basket of rolls and helped herself before handing it to Barry.

“Bigger issue, same tactic. She lives and breathes for her kids and grandkids. We’ll keep chipping away at her until she comes around.” Gloria offered a lopsided grin. “As the baby of the family, I’ve elevated this tactic into an art form. Now, will someone please pass the white meat and get that sweet potato casserole down here, too?”

∗ ∗ ∗ ∗

Four hours later, Mary was ready to head back to Gainesville to spend a little time with Ellis and their son. Anna came into the kitchen as Mary was saying her good-byes to her sisters and brothers-in-law.

“Mom, I’m—”

Anna cut Mary off before she could go further.

“I’ve prayed about this all afternoon. I can’t change it, so I’ll have to ask God to help me find ways to accept it. I don’t know if that can happen, but I do know this. I don’t want to talk about it, so I’ll ask all of you to never bring up your… your… your situation at home with Ellis. If we can have that as an understanding, I’m willing to try to keep peace.”

Mary opened her arms to invite her mother’s embrace. Anna hugged her, but it was stiff and awkward. “We’ll all try, Mom. I promise.” She looked to the others for support.

“Fine.” Anna pulled away. “Now, have you taken some food to bring to Ellis? She’ll be hungry after a long day alone at the hospital. Be sure to take her some pie. I think she likes apple better than pumpkin.” She pulled a pie off the counter. “Maybe you should take her a slice of each.”

∗ ∗ ∗ ∗

At the hospital, Mary scrubbed up and joined Ellis in the NICU.

“What kind of day did he have?” Mary asked.

“Pretty good. I held him twice for about ten minutes each time.” Ellis’s voice caught. “He held on to my finger for a little while the second time he was on my chest.”

“That’s great, honey. He knows you and he trusts you.”

“I guess.” Ellis smiled in spite of herself. “So how was Thanksgiving?”

“You won’t believe it.” Mary quickly recounted what had transpired at her mother’s house.

“Adam stood up for me?”

“Literally and figuratively. I’ve never been prouder of my brother-in-law. Your working at the dealership has let him see how terrific you are. And Barry even grew a pair and showed some backbone, too.”

“That’s great. We need to look up Adam’s uncle sometime and tell him what a great person his nephew turned out to be.”

“You’re right. We should.”

“I’m glad your family is finally starting to understand what we’re up against with this little guy.” Ellis gazed down at sleeping Joey.

“I stopped by the house and put a bunch of leftovers in the fridge. I brought you a sandwich and some pie in case you’re hungry now.” Mary handed her a zip-top bag.

“Starved. Thanks.”

They left the NICU and sat in a nearby waiting room. Ellis polished off her meal and dug in her pocket for a tissue to wipe her hands. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulled a folded sheet of paper from her pocket. “A reporter and a photographer from the
Gainesville Gazette
were here this afternoon. They’re doing a human interest story for tomorrow’s paper about special things to be thankful for, and they’re featuring the preemies here in the NICU. Here’s a copy of the release form I signed saying it’s okay to use Joey’s picture in the article.”

Mary skimmed the page. “We’ll have to be sure to pick up a couple copies of the paper so we can put the story in his baby book.”

“Yeah, barely two months old and already a newsmaker.” Ellis smiled warmly at Mary. “Are you going to spend the night here again?”

“You know, I think it might be nice to sleep in my own bed tonight. I’ve only done that a few times in the past two months.”

“Where’s Nat?” Ellis asked.

“She went home with Barry and Naomi. My sisters were talking about taking the older girls with them on a major shopping blitz tomorrow.”

“Then the two of us could have our house all to ourselves for a few hours.”

“Maybe even have some you-and-me time without fear of interlopers.”

“If you don’t count a moderately-demented feline and an attention-starved dog.”

“It’s been hell for every member of our family since Joey got here.” Weariness laced Mary’s words.

“It’s been a big change, that’s for sure.” Ellis lifted her arm and cradled Mary’s shoulder.

“Let’s say good night to our son and make tracks for home.”

∗ ∗ ∗ ∗

After work the next day, Ellis made her usual drive to Gainesville to visit Joey in the NICU and catch a quick evening meal with Mary. To her surprise, Mary wasn’t in the NICU. She searched the usual places—waiting rooms, snack bars, restrooms, consult rooms near the unit—no Mary. She finally asked one of the NICU nurses if they knew where she might be.

“Try the courtyard down on the first floor. I saw her out there on one of the benches when I came in for my shift.”

Dusk had settled, but Ellis went to the open-air courtyard accessible from the main lobby. In the twilight, she made out Mary’s lone form.

“Hey, babe,” she said as she sat next to Mary on the bench. “Kind of chilly and dark to be out here, isn’t it?”

“So? I might as well get used to it. I suspect it’s how the rest of my life will be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Here.” Mary forced a crumpled newspaper into Ellis’s hands.

“It’s too dark for me to read this.”

“Nothing in it you’d want to see.” Mary choked back a sob.

Ellis moved nearer. “What’s going on?”

“The paper has a picture of every baby in the NICU except Joey.”

“But I signed the release form saying it was okay to use his picture and tell his story.”

“I know, so I picked up the paper while I was out at lunchtime, and I flipped through it to find the story. Two pages all about the hospital’s wonderful neonatal care facility and the miracles they work with premature babies. Pictures of the other five babies. Not word one about Joseph Ellis Moss and all he’s been through.”

“Somebody at the
Gazette
must have screwed up.” Ellis laid the paper aside.

“No, it’s no screw up. I called and asked why my baby was left out of the article.”

“Is it because we’re gay?”

“You know, it almost would have been easier to take if that was why they did it.”

“It’s not?”

“No. When I asked the reporter why Joey hadn’t been included, she told me it’s because he looks so sick. They only wanted to feature babies that look like they’re going to get better. She said her editor made her delete Joey’s picture because he didn’t think it was appropriate post-Thanksgiving reading material.”

Mary’s palpable distress hung in the crisp, early evening air. Ellis sat mutely beside her. Several minutes passed.

“Fuck the
Gainesville
Gazette,”
Ellis said at last. “Fuck them and everyone else who’s ready to give up on our son.” She got to her feet. “Come on, Mama, we need to go see our baby.”

“I didn’t think this day would ever come.” Mary dabbed a tissue at the tears seeping from the corners of her eyes. “Joey’s going home today.” She looked at Ellis with a mix of relief, disbelief, and terror. “It feels like he’s been in the hospital for years.”

“I’m taking it as a good omen. He was in NICU for seventy-seven days. Double sevens. That’s good luck, don’t you think?”

“Might as well call it that.” Mary laughed nervously. “We’ll probably need all the luck we can get.” She clutched the accordion folder full of instruction sheets for Joey’s medications, doctors’ phone numbers, preemie care briefing documents, emergency procedures for everything from apnea to zero weight gain, operating booklets for his breathing and heart monitor apparatus, and a host of other information. “At least I won’t need a conditioning program. I can just do some bent arm curls with this folder to build myself back up.” Another nervous laugh.

Ellis and Mary exchanged tearful good-byes with the NICU staff and the parents of other preemies still in the unit. Joey was wrapped in extra layers of blankets to ward off the chilly mid-December air. He weighed just over four pounds, like the new smaller-sized bags of sugar in the grocery store, and he was about as big, but not nearly as well-rounded, thanks to head and arms and legs.

Ellis held him in the crook of her elbow as they made their way to the Xterra. She’d purchased the smallest car carrier on the market and secured it in the backseat, but when she placed Joey in it, he was swallowed up whole. They strapped him in as snugly as possible and tucked extra diapers around the edges in hopes of keeping him in place.

“Ready?” Ellis asked Mary as she slipped the key in the ignition.

“Big choice. We’re on our own now.” Mary looked at Joey beside her in his car seat. “How can something this little need so much attention?”

“Law of inverse proportions, maybe,” Ellis said as she backed out of her parking space.

Joey whimpered, and Mary stroked him reassuringly.

Ellis caught Mary’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Should I stop so we can see what he wants?”

“No, let’s hope he’s like Nat and once we get out on the road, he’ll fall sound asleep until we get home.”

But he didn’t. Whimpers turned to cries and cries to screams. Joey bellowed at the top of his miniscule lungs all the way from the hospital to the house in Clarkesville.

“Do we need to call a doctor?” Ellis grabbed the accordion folder as she exited the Xterra, leaving Joey for Mary to deal with.

“And tell him what?” Mary snapped. “That he’s crying and won’t stop?”

“I’m worried about his lungs.”

“If he’s crying, his lungs are fine. It’s when he stops and turns blue, we need to worry.”

“How would I know that? I’ve never been responsible for a baby before.”

“I’ve never been responsible for a three-month premature baby before. I don’t know what the hell’s the matter with him.” Mary lifted him from his carrier. The screams abated slightly. “Maybe he’s scared. The only place he’s ever been is the incubator and the NICU.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s it.” Ellis shifted the folder to her other hand so she could close the doors of the vehicle. “Let’s get him inside. Maybe he’s hungry or needs a diaper change.”

∗ ∗ ∗ ∗

Joey didn’t want to eat, and his diaper was dry. Mary tried every trick she knew, but Joey was having none of it. The only tool in his box was crying, and he wielded it like a master for the first five hours he was home.

Mary sat in the wooden rocker, gingerly tipping the chair to and fro while Joey dozed on her chest. “Thank God Nat’s at Gloria’s. As unhappy as she is about Joey showing up at all, if she’d been here for this performance, I don’t know what she’d have done.”

“Let’s hope he’s gotten it out of his system. Gloria’s bringing Natalie home in a little while, and tomorrow’s a school day, so she’ll need her sleep. Me too, if I’m going to sell any cars at the showroom in the morning.”

“Like I don’t need a good night’s rest.” Mary paused in her rocking.

“I didn’t say that, and you know it.”

“We need to get something clear right now, Ellis. I’m not going to be the only one who deals with him when he cries.”

Ellis moved nearer the rocking chair. “Never said you would, sweetie.” She reached to touch Mary’s face, but Mary pulled away. “Want to tell me what’s bugging you?”

Huge tears splashed down on the baby in her arms. “Oh, Ellis. This is going to be so hard. Any baby is a lot of work, but Joey is so fragile that it’ll take ten times as much effort for him. I’m too old to be doing this, even for an average baby. How can I possibly take care of Nat and do my job at the magazine and be a decent partner for you while I’m spending every waking moment worrying about what Joey needs?”

“It’ll work out, babe. We’ll find a way. I’ll learn what I need to know to do my part, and Natalie will pitch in, too. We can ask Gloria and Naomi to help out on the days when it feels like too much to do alone. It’ll all look better tomorrow. You’re just tired and overwhelmed right now.”

Mary wiped her nose on her sleeve. “And don’t forget hormones. My hormones are in hyperwarp.”

“Okay, and hormones.” Ellis smiled reassuringly. “Want me to take him and put him in his crib?”