Magnolia Wednesdays (37 page)

His eyes only fluttered open on occasion and he gave no indication at all that he could hear her. But Ruth talked to him anyway, pouring out her love and her hopes and when she couldn’t help it, all of her fears. The fact that he didn’t appear to be listening had never stopped her before; she certainly wasn’t going to let it stop her now.

37

F
ORTY-EIGHT HOURS AFTER her baby was born Vivien brought him home to Melanie’s. The drive from the hospital was fraught with silence; the fragile truce that had held during her labor and afterward left no room for conversation or confidences. Vivien sat beside the car seat in the back of Melanie’s van and fixed her attention on the baby the entire drive, unsure what she’d do if he fussed or cried and unable to meet Melanie’s accusing gaze in the rearview mirror. He slept the whole time, not even waking when Melanie showed her how to detach the carrier so that she could carry him inside.

Vivien was as tired as he was, and she was also afraid. In the hospital there’d been nurses who brought the baby to and from her and helped her try to nurse; she’d known that in an emergency there were people who’d know what to do. Now she was responsible for another human being in every possible way, and the thought of everything she didn’t know how to do, from breastfeeding to changing a diaper, felt infinitely mysterious and frightening. The opportunities for screwing up seemed unlimited. And now when she needed it most, she didn’t know if she could count on Melanie’s help.

The smell of food greeted them when they stepped inside. They found Evangeline humming happily as she cooked in Melanie’s kitchen. Her face broke into a smile when she saw them and she put out her arms immediately for the baby. “Isn’t he precious?” she said, cuddling him to her chest and tucking his head under her chin. “He sure is a beautiful boy. And long? Between you and Stone, he’s gonna be a baseketball player for sure!”

She kept the baby tucked up against her and still managed to fuss over Vivi at the same time. This was multitasking at its best.

“Is Caroline with you?” Melanie’s voice was stiff as she and Vivien looked into the family room for their mother. Both of them let out sighs of relief when there was no sign of her.

“Nope,” Evangeline answered. “But she did dis-invite that Matt Glazer bozo from the party she’s planning and I heard your daddy on the phone with the paper getting him fired. They sent me here to you for two weeks.” She shrugged as she gently repositioned the baby in the crook of her arm. “That’s about as close to an apology as your mama is likely to get.”

Vivien and Melanie exchanged glances. One less thing to be dealt with for now.

“Now come on and have a bite and then I’ll take Vivi and her little one upstairs so they can nurse. And then I’m putting them both to bed for a nice long nap.”

Evangeline handed the baby to Melanie so that she could fill their plates with heaping mounds of meat loaf and mashed potatoes and set them out on the kitchen table. Fresh-cut flowers sat on the counter and a small dresser with a changing pad on its top had been set up in an empty corner of the family room. Vivien sank into the chair with a sigh of relief. Now she had two people who knew what they were doing, and at least one of them was excited about helping. She tried not to worry about when she would hear from Stone. Who hadn’t called. Or texted. Or emailed.

Or whether her sister would ever stop looking at Vivi as if she had single-handedly ruined all of their lives.

AS OFTEN AS she could Melanie held her new nephew. His powdery baby smell and great big blue eyes soothed and comforted her; the weight of him in her arms carried her back to her own first days with Shelby and Trip and the wonderful sense of completion that she’d felt. As she helped rock him to sleep or took a turn walking with him when he fussed, Melanie’s mind wandered back to those days when everything had seemed so perfect.

Like a mountain climber clinging to bare rock, she held the filter through which she’d always viewed her relationship with J.J. in place and used her anger at Vivi and her sense of betrayal to keep it there. If Vivi hadn’t started her “investigation,” all of them would still be blissfully ignorant. Her sister had so much to answer for.

In her arms, the baby looked up at her and blinked sleepily.

“You are so wonderful,” Melanie whispered to him. ‘But I really, really want to strangle your mother.”

As if he understood completely, he blinked once more and went to sleep.

One day Melanie lost her grip and the filter slipped, allowing reality to poke through. At first this was much too painful, like opening the front door of a home you’d lived in all your life and discovering it was actually a completely unfamiliar vacation rental that belonged to someone else.

Her husband’s gentle sweetness took on a new dimension now that she could no longer avoid the truth. She had considered J.J. her best friend, and when his sexual interest in her had waned more quickly than she’d expected, she’d attributed it to the stress of his political career, the extent of his travel, her focus on the kids’ needs and then their activities. She’d had a long list of excuses for why their relationship was more comfortable than passionate. And she’d considered it a fair trade-off. She’d been willing to settle for J.J.’s affection and friendship, which had often seemed missing from other people’s marriages.

But how real was that friendship based as it was on such a huge lie? And how could she not feel cheated now that she knew all of J.J.’s passion had been showered on Clay Alexander?

She wasn’t the only one of her family struggling with the ramifications of their newfound knowledge. For a while Melanie was afraid that Shelby’s sense of outrage and betrayal would demolish the strides she’d made, tank the SAT and ACT prep, turn her sullen and angry all over again. There was moodiness and the occasional outburst, but there was something about having things out in the open that prevented them from retreating into their corners and only coming out to fight.

Having Evangeline around didn’t hurt, either. If she was aware of the tension between Melanie and Vivien, she made no comment. Between the food and attention Evangeline lavished on them and the baby they all found themselves fussing over, they began to examine the revelations about J.J. in a way that Melanie hoped would one day allow them to heal.

They were sitting in the family room one night stuffed to the gills with Evangeline’s fried chicken and okra, which had been washed down with what felt like gallons of sweet tea, when Trip brought up his father’s homosexuality.

“I feel like he was a whole other person I didn’t know. Was everything just an act?” Trip asked. “How did he get to be . . . gay?” His tone added, is it contagious?

Melanie’s heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time as she contemplated her son. Her emotions were so raw she didn’t trust herself to speak. She stole a look at Vivien, who sat silently in a corner of the sofa, holding the baby who’d become her entrée to the family circle. None of them had been able to forgive her for destroying their memories of J.J.; neither had they been able to completely write her off.

But Vivien, who had grown increasingly silent and tentative in their midst, didn’t shy away from the subject. She looked Trip straight in the eye and said, “Some people believe that homosexuality is a choice. Other people call it a sin. But I’ve always thought it was just something that is and that most people know that about themselves fairly early.” She looked down at the baby and then back at Trip. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you just wake up one day as an adult and discover you like men instead of women. Or vice versa. It’s something you’d know by now.”

“But can’t you make it go away if you really want to?” Trip asked.

Melanie held her breath as Vivien considered her answer. She saw the flash of pain that crossed Shelby’s face, but her daughter didn’t look away.

“I don’t know, Trip, but I don’t think so,” Vivi said. “I’m sure lots of people would choose an easier path if they could.” She looked over at Shelby and Melanie, who were listening intently. Evangeline, who was cleaning up the kitchen, had a quiet smile on her face.

“I think your dad tried to live a more conventional life because of how much he loved you and Shelby and your mom, but he couldn’t. I know this is all hurtful and confusing, and I know you’ve got a ton to think about. But I just don’t believe his love for you is one of the things you need to question.”

Vivien spoke with a complete certainty that Melanie wished she could feel. Her sister seemed different, softer somehow. And while she wasn’t exactly adept at the intricacies of new motherhood, she didn’t complain or shirk her responsibilities to her son. The knot of anger in Melanie’s stomach loosened slightly and she let out a bit of the breath she always seemed to be holding. But she couldn’t seem to dislodge it completely; every time she thought of Scarlett Leigh, or the look on Clay’s face at Angela’s defunct wedding, the anger reared again, landing squarely in Viv’s lap.

Ruth and Angela came to visit about a week after the wedding that didn’t happen. They brought gifts and took turns holding the baby until Evangeline carried him up for his nap.

Vivi was glad to see them, but she couldn’t help wondering about the secretive smile that pulled at Angela’s lips or the way she kept fiddling with something in the pocket of the body-hugging cream silk outfit they’d given her at Fangie’s going-away party.

The smile that had been splitting Ruth’s face in two was absent. She looked even more tired than Vivien felt since Little Stone, as she’d begun to think of him, had come fully awake in the days following his delivery and turned her days and nights upside down.

Melanie had been to the hospital and kept in regular touch, but the news had not been overly reassuring. Ira had taken one step forward and then several back for a good part of the week.

They moved into the family room with cups of coffee and plates of Evangeline’s apple cobbler.

“How’s Ira?” Melanie asked once they’d consumed and exclaimed over their first few bites. “What do the doctors say?”

Ruth set down her plate and it was apparent that while she had survived the ordeal so far, her appetite had not. She’d shed too many pounds too quickly, and the shadows under her eyes were dark and deep. “They say all kinds of things, but they never really seem to be saying anything. At least nothing I want to hear.”

Melanie reached out to squeeze Ruth’s hand as they waited for her to go on.

“But this morning he was more aware, closer to himself than he has been since his surgery.” Her eyes moistened. “And when I asked him what he was doing hanging around in bed so much, he told me he’d just been resting up so he’d be ready to take me dancing.” A broken smile formed on her lips. “He said he hadn’t spent all that time and money learning how to dance for nothing.”

The tears slid unheeded down her cheeks. “The doctors say it’ll be a long recovery and he’ll have to make some significant changes, but he’s going to be okay.”

Dabbing at her eyes and cheeks with the corner of her napkin, Ruth turned to Angela. “Your turn,” she said.

“I don’t know what you could mean.” Angela smiled.

“I expected you to be completely pitiful, but you look like the cat that swallowed the canary.” As always Ruth stated what the others had been thinking. “And you finally stopped dressing like an Italian widow from the old country.”

“Yeah,” Vivi said. “Spill it. Or I’ll sick Evangeline on you. Nobody holds out on her for long.”

Without further prodding, Angela said, “I decided to get married after all.”

There was a stunned silence as they all took this in. “Was it to anyone we know?” Melanie asked carefully.

Ruth was nowhere near as gentle. “Unbelievable. You called the whole thing off, told everybody to leave, and then married someone else?”

“Not exactly,” Angela hedged.

“Exactly how was it?” Vivi asked. “And you can start with what happened after we made our spectacular exit.”

“Well,” Angela said as the three of them leaned forward expectantly. “After you all left for your assorted hospitals, it was pretty grim. Worse than grim actually,” Angela said. “But I had to call it off. Seeing what not telling the truth was doing to Vivi’s life finally pushed me to tell James everything.”

“Good grief!” Melanie said.

Vivien cringed.

“When you came into the dressing room, it just all hit me. I realized I was so caught up in marrying James, in having this fairy tale ‘happily ever after’ that you talked about that I was willing to keep the very thing that had defined me for most of my life a secret from him rather than trust him with the truth. Even though it was eating me up.”

“Way to go, Vivien,” Melanie said. “You were like a one-woman demolition crew that day.”