‘I think you ought to be pope,’ Camilla said.
‘Fortunately we don’t have popes.’ Art grinned. ‘I’m not sure I want to be a bishop, but I’ve prayed about it, and it seems to be what I’m meant to do next. It’s Florida, and that’s home for me.’
‘Jacksonville,’ Olivia said, ‘where Art grew up.’
‘On the wrong side of the tracks,’ Art said. ‘I’m not too excited about living in the classy part of town in a mansion which will be a lot for Olivia to manage even with help. But it means we can spend time at the beach house, and you can come with the baby and get away from all the Mrs. Lees in the parish.’
Camilla hugged her father-in-law. ‘Oh, Papa, I’m excited for you. I don’t know much about what a bishop is supposed to do, but whatever it is, you’ll do it superbly.’ She turned to Olivia. ‘Mama, are you happy?’
Olivia replied slowly, ‘We’ve been in Nashville a long time. It’s been our home. But it’s time for Art to move on. Yes, I think I’m happy, though I’ll miss my friends.’
‘You’ll make new ones,’ Art assured her. ‘You have a great capacity for friendship.’
‘And you.’ Olivia turned again to Camilla. ‘Are you making friends?’
‘Dr. Edith Edison, my advisor at the university, is a good friend, Mama. And I’m getting to know some really interesting people in Athens.’
‘Not in Corinth?’
‘I feel out of place. I don’t have the right accent. I don’t do the correct things, because I don’t know what they are.’
Mac laughed. ‘Darling, don’t sound so tragic. You’re doing superbly.’
Art said, ‘You go to church on Sundays and sit in the front pew where the rector’s wife is supposed to sit. You’re learning when to stand or kneel or sit. It’s a strange world for you, and you’re doing nobly.’
Olivia said, ‘Give yourself credit, my dear. When I married Art it was a difficult transition for me, even though I grew up in the Episcopal Church.’
Camilla smiled. ‘At least I’m not trying to explain Mach’s theory to anybody but the kids.’
‘The kids adore her,’ Mac said. ‘Pinky and Wiz Morrison never used to come to youth group, their mother told me, and now they’re two of the most faithful.’
Mrs. Lee came to call again, bringing wine jelly, an old Southern remedy for anyone who needed strengthening, and surely Camilla, in her delicate condition—
‘It’s too bad your parents are so far away, in Paris, did you say?’
‘Yes.’
‘A young woman needs her mother at a time like this. And your husband is very close to his parents, isn’t he?’
‘Yes. We both are. Mama—’ She caught herself. Mrs. Lee would not understand Camilla’s closeness to Mac’s parents, her distance from her own. ‘Mac’s mother is going to come when the baby is born.’
‘Not your own mother?’
Camilla was not going to tell Mrs. Lee that her own mother was pregnant, would be having her baby almost at the same time as Camilla’s. ‘Paris is very far away, and Mac’s parents are wonderful.’
‘You’re very lucky, sugar. Not all young wives get on well with their in-laws.’
‘I know I’m lucky. I love them.’
‘And I gather Mr. Xanthakos is about to become a bishop?’ Mrs. Lee was already basking in reflected glory.
‘Yes, he is.’
‘That must make you very proud.’
‘It does.’
‘And you, sugar, how are you feeling?’
‘Oh, I’m fine. I keep having tiny contractions, but I’ve had them all along.’
‘I don’t like the sound of that. You take care of yourself, hear?’
‘Oh, I do, and Mac is taking good care of me.’
‘And so he should.’ She looked around the room. ‘My, this is attractive. I like the way you’ve moved things around. Those chairs by the fireplace are shabbier than they should be. I’ll speak to the ladies.’
‘Oh, they’re fine.’
‘You just leave it to me, sugar. Now watch those contractions, hear?’
‘I will,’ Camilla promised.
But on Christmas afternoon the contractions became labor. ‘At least all the services are over,’ Camilla gasped.
Mac barely got her to the hospital before she lost the baby.
Olivia came to bring Camilla home from the hospital. The fetus had been developing normally, the obstetrician said; there was no apparent reason for her to have miscarried. ‘But it sometimes happens. Give yourself a couple of months’ respite and try again.’
‘Your body is going to rebel against this interruption,’ Olivia said. ‘You need petting and pampering. I know you’re bitterly disappointed, we all are. But there’ll be more babies for you and Mac.’
A cable came from Paris in response to Camilla’s letter: TERRIBLY SHOCKED AND SORRY TRIED TO PHONE ALL WELL HERE.
And then a phone call from Rose, full of murmurs of sympathy combined with exultation about her own pregnancy which left Camilla in tears. Tears of anger as well as grief.
Olivia said, ‘Of course you’re angry. Your mother is doing what you are supposed to do. The chronology is upside down. It’s outrageous. Don’t feel badly about your reaction. We all share it.’
Yes, it was upside down, as our eyes see upside down, as the camera sees upside down, and no way to right it. Camilla was ashamed at the intensity of her reaction, but there it was. Luisa helped by calling, angry about the loss of the baby, and outraged at Rose’s pregnancy. ‘It’s absurd,’ Luisa sputtered. ‘Oh, Cam, if you’re as angry as I am, you’re raging.’
‘Yes,’ Camilla agreed. ‘That expresses it.’
‘Let it out,’ Luisa advised. ‘And if you can’t, I’ll do it for you. I’m infuriated for you. I hope you’ll have twins next time. Triplets.’
‘One at a time will be fine,’ Camilla said.
On Sunday evening the youth group came, bringing a kitten, carried tenderly by Pinky Morrison. Freddy Lee brought cat food, and Gordie Byrd carried a bag of kitty litter.
A kitten to replace a baby, Camilla thought bitterly, but managed to smile, to thank them. The kitten was put in her lap, but immediately leapt off, dashed across the room, ascended into the air and onto the sideboard, then leapt onto the newel post, wobbled there, getting its balance, and catapulted itself back into Camilla’s lap. She could not help laughing with the rest of them.
‘Quantum!’ she exclaimed. ‘That’s what we’ll call it. It’s surely making quantum leaps.’
‘What’s a quantum leap?’ Wiz Morrison asked.
Mac said, quickly, ‘It’s time for Camilla—and Quantum—to go up to bed. The doctor said she shouldn’t be up for more than a few hours.’
The young people stood, in immediate apology.
‘No, no,’ Camilla protested, ‘you were wonderful to come. You’ve made me feel much better. I’ll take the kitten with me and hope he won’t leap all the way back down the stairs.’
When Mac came up she was in bed, with the kitten curled up on her shoulder, purring in its sleep. Camilla said, ‘I’m glad you stopped me from having to explain a quantum leap. I’m sure Mrs. Lee would see it as something totally unscriptural.’
‘Um,’ Mac said. ‘That’s the main reason I barged in. Freddy Lee’s a nice guy, but Gordie Byrd would have found something nasty to say. It was also time for you to get off to bed. I’ve fixed a litter pan in a corner of the kitchen, and some food and water, so let me take the little creature down and get him used to his new dwelling.’
A week later Camilla received a call from Noelle, who determinedly kept in touch, as though Camilla continued to be some kind of lifeline for her. ‘Oh, Cam, I’m visiting Andrew in Atlanta. He’s doing a residency at Grady, and that’s a really tough hospital, but it turns out super doctors. One of his best pals comes from Athens, he’s a favorite nephew of somebody he calls Aunt Edith at the university, so I heard you lost a baby. That’s lousy. I’m really
sorry.’
‘Thanks. It happens. I’ll try again.’
‘Listen, we’re driving over to Athens tomorrow to pick up Andrew’s friend whose car has kaput’ed. Can we stop by on the way and see you for a few minutes?’
How could she say no?
Mac pointed out, ‘You could say you’re still getting over losing the baby.’
‘I suppose I could. I don’t think well when I’m taken by surprise.’
‘I wish Mama’d been able to stay longer.’
‘It was wonderful of her to stay as long as she did. Don’t worry. Noelle and Andrew won’t hang around. They’re on their way to Athens to pick up this nephew of Dr. Edison’s.’
‘Will you be okay without me? I’ve got a meeting with my missions committee, and then another with my finance committee …’
‘I’m fine. I most certainly wouldn’t want to see their father, but Noelle and Andrew can’t be blamed for the problems he’s caused us, and I guess caused them, too.’
‘You’re right,’ Mac said. ‘Don’t dump a lot of junk on those kids that doesn’t belong there.’
Noelle and Andrew arrived shortly after lunch in a battered car. Noelle was prettier than Camilla remembered, less angular, with a softer smile. Her hair was now an ash blond which suited her delicate features. Andrew was still a tall string bean of a man, no hat covering his brilliant hair this time. His green eyes were already surrounded by fine wrinkles, as though he smiled a lot.
Noelle hugged Camilla. Andrew shook hands with a good, firm clasp, saying, ‘Camilla, I’m afraid this isn’t a g-good time for us to come. We’re really sorry about your b-baby, and Noelle wanted to come tell you in person.’ His stutter was minimal.
‘Where’s Mac?’ Noelle asked.
‘He’s tied up with all kinds of church meetings. He’s sorry to miss you.’
‘Me, too. I really loved those Sunday evenings with Mac, and you, too, Camilla, when you joined him.’
Andrew said, ‘My friend’s Aunt Edith thinks you are t-terrific, Camilla. She says you’re the brightest l-light on the campus.’
‘I think she’s pretty terrific, too. I don’t know what I’d do without her.’ She led them toward the big pine tree. ‘Let’s sit outdoors. It’s so warm today I really believe spring is coming.’
Andrew said quickly, ‘Don’t go to any b-bother for us.’
‘It’s no bother, and anyhow I’d like some tea myself.’
When she brought out the tea tray, Andrew hurried to take it from her, setting it down on the card table that they kept outdoors, so often forgetting to bring it in at night that the top was mottled and pocked.
Quantum, who had been having a nap in a sunny spot in the yard, suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and in a great leap sat on Andrew’s shoulder.
Startled, Andrew jumped, then put up his hand and stroked the kitten, who had started his loudest purr.
‘Sorry, Andrew,’ Camilla said. ‘Did he scratch you?’
‘No, he’s fine. What a cute l-little thing.’
‘His name, of course, is Quantum.’
‘Of course,’ Andrew said.
‘Why of course?’ Noelle asked.
‘He j-just made a quantum leap,’ Andrew explained.
‘What’s a quantum leap?’ Noelle asked.
Both Camilla and Andrew looked at her in surprise.
Noelle defended herself. ‘I majored in English. I’m not into science, like you two.’
Camilla and Andrew looked at each other. Camilla asked Noelle, ‘Have you ever heard of indeterminacy?’
‘Nope.’
‘Heisenberg,’ Andrew started. ‘In the sub-atomic world we can know, for instance, either the exact position of a p-particle or its exact trajectory, b-but not both.’
‘You’re crazy.’ Noelle poured herself more tea.
Camilla asked, ‘Surely you’ve heard of Planck, who, at the turn of the century, realized that energy comes in tiny units he called quanta, rather than continuously.’
‘Planck’s h’—Andrew nodded—‘is as im-important as Einstein’s c.’
‘C = the velocity of light,’ Camilla explained.
Noelle hooted with laughter. ‘You’re both crazy, absolutely crazy.’
Camilla shook her head. ‘No, Noelle. It’s a language both Andrew and I happen to speak. I don’t quote Shakespeare, and you do.’
‘Shakespeare is a lot simpler.’
‘Not to those who don’t know it.’
Noelle took a swallow of tea. ‘Mind if I change the subject?’
‘T-to something important.’ Andrew grinned.
‘To me. I’ve been dating a guy from Atlanta, Cam, not one of Andrew’s doctor pals, but a budding banker. Ferris Hamilton. Isn’t that a Southern-sounding name? Ferris Hamilton. God, he’s exciting! He’s the brother of one of my college friends, and stable without being stuffy.’
‘Good man.’ Andrew smiled, then turned to Camilla. ‘H-how’s your m-mother?’
What an odd question. Then Camilla remembered that Andrew had seen Rose with his father, and perhaps more than once. ‘She and my father are in Paris for a year.’
‘S-she’s b-beautiful,’ Andrew said. ‘I m-m-met h-h—’ His stuttering got the better of him.
‘Where?’ Noelle demanded. ‘Where did you meet her?’
‘When I was at a con-con-con—’
‘Conference?’ Noelle suggested.
Andrew nodded. ‘In Chi-chi-ca-g-go. W-walking down b-by the l-lake.’
‘When?’ Noelle demanded
‘She was b-back in Chi-Chi-Chi—’
‘Chicago.’
‘Y-yes. They’d come b-back for a week and were staying at a ho-ho-ho—’
‘Hotel.’
‘Wh-while her husband d-did some kind of w-work.’ He smiled rather helplessly at Camilla.
Camilla knew that her parents made frequent brief trips home for Rafferty’s work, and for Rose to consult with her decorator.
The kitten leapt from Andrew’s shoulder, made a wide dash around the pine tree, jumped high in the air, and then landed in Andrew’s lap. Laughing, he picked up the little creature, who again snuggled up to him, purring.
Camilla smiled. ‘Another quantum leap. He didn’t scratch you?’
‘No, not at all. Animals and I are fine together.’ He smiled at her. His stutter was gone.
‘Animals adore Andrew,’ Noelle said. ‘Animals and kids. He’s like the pied piper. Cam, I’m really loving college. But I think that’s going to be enough education for me. Sure, I can quote Shakespeare, but where’s that going to get me in the real world?’
‘More tea?’ Camilla suggested.
Andrew held out his cup and she filled it. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘A little tired. I’m okay.’
‘It t-takes the body a while.’ He looked at her with real concern in his expression.
‘Yes. I know.’
‘You’ll have another baby.’ He seemed deeply anxious to reassure her.
She found that she wanted to reassure him. ‘Yes. Of course I will.’
‘We’d b-better get on over to Athens and leave you to rest.’ He took Camilla’s hand in both his strong ones. ‘Thank you for being a l-lifeline for my sister.’
Camilla demurred. ‘I haven’t done anything.’
‘You’ve been there for h-her when she’s needed you. It’s a great b-blessing.’
‘He’s right,’ Noelle said. ‘It means a lot to me to be able to keep in touch, and I do plan to keep on doing that, like it or not.’ She laughed, but there was a wistfulness that touched Camilla.
‘Of course, Noelle.’ She gave her a quick hug, then reached out to shake hands again with Andrew. She liked the feel of his hands. He was a nice man. A good brother for Noelle.
She waved after them as they drove off.
When Mac came home he brought in the mail, the usual junk, plus a letter from Rafferty, full of loving concern. He said that he di
d not want to rub salt in her wounds, but that Rose was happier than she had been in years, full of little whims, most of which were easily satisfied: fresh figs, rather than strawberries; frequent drives in the various parks and gardens; visits to churches at odd hours—Rose had never been interested in churches. ‘I suspect she’s placating the gods or the saints,’ Rafferty wrote. ‘It seems to me it does her no harm, though I don’t like to encourage superstition. However, it’s no more irrational than her insistance that fresh figs are good for the baby’s brain.’
The letter was not intended to hurt, but it did.
Memories hurt. They are not completely healed while they still hurt. Camilla had thought that she had come to terms with her memories, but it seemed that she had not. Raffi’s question had precipitated her into the past, the years in Corinth, her mother’s pregnancy, Mac’s death, and there was still pain where she had believed there was nothing but healed scar tissue.
She got ready for bed, following her comfortable routine of bath and then some quiet reading. But she was not quiet, and the memories she had called up thus far barely scratched the surface. She could tell Raffi in a few words, “Your grandfather and I started our marriage in a small parish in Georgia, and we were happy, loving each other, making friends. I began to believe that my mother and her problems were out of my life, even when she—to my surprise—became pregnant. I lost a baby, and then I became pregnant with your Aunt Frankie.”
Surely that was enough. That was all she need tell Raffi about those early years of marriage. But then—
The phone rang, and it was Frankie, who usually called at least once a week. Her calls were healing, because Frankie had made peace with her memories, was happy with who she was, what she was doing.
“Mom, are you all right?”
“Of course, fine.”
“Come on, Mom. Something’s wrong. Your voice is tight and hard. What’s up. Is it Taxi?”
Camilla sighed. “Does it always have to be Taxi?”
“No, Mom, but it usually is. Isn’t it?”
“Usually.”
“What now?”
“I’m not sure. When you drove back to New York with Taxi after that medal affair, did you notice anything?”
“I’m not sure, either. He made a lot of nasty remarks about various people, and Thessaly tried to calm him down, but it wasn’t all that unusual.”
A Live Coal in the Sea Page 13
