Alvin's Farm Book 5: An Innate Sense of Recognition

by Anna Scott Graham

  Francesca Louise had many names during her first month; Miss Francesca (Jenny), Little Miss Pooper (Sam), Funny Face Frannie (Tommie), Pookie Girl (Rae), Smiley Britches (Rachel). Others came and went, but four weeks after her birth, the biggest surprise was that Will and Bethany called their daughter Louise.

  It came unexpectedly, and wasn’t at all Chelsea’s doing. Only that Francesca was three long syllables, sounding lovely in theory, but was lengthy for overjoyed, exhausted parents. If they thought the end of Bethany’s confinement had been rough, the first month of their baby’s life was the real introduction to parenthood.

  That a mother’s name was three syllables had been one reason for Francesca, but often Bethany was pronounced Beth-nee. Will used all three sounds, but for his daughter, somehow Louise stuck, starting one evening after Chelsea and Andy had left.

  Miss Louise was Will’s initial phrase. Then it was Louise in the mornings when he cradled her as Alvin had cuddled Chelsea. While Bethany slept, Will took dad duties, all but the feeding.

  In one month, many adjustments had occurred. The two most striking were that by the time family returned for Thanksgiving, Francesca was Louise, and that Bethany Cassel had left her past behind.

  Bethany Amelia Traynor had never expected to land in a sleepy Oregon town, a place her cultured mother couldn’t appreciate, a hamlet Bethany had accepted due to Will. She loved him, got along with his family, but had preferred San Francisco’s bustle and style, different than Rhode Island, but also similar. Edged to the tip of a peninsula, San Francisco was full of eccentric characters and wealthy citizens, the latter more to Bethany’s taste. While Will’s family wasn’t poor, they weren’t refined. Honest, plain people, the kindest way Vanessa Traynor had described them to friends after the wedding, but her condescending tone hadn’t been missed. Rae had pegged that woman spot-on, an arrogant socialite who later pressured her daughter to end the marriage. Will’s accident had been more auspicious than any of his family knew. Bethany had wanted a divorce, Will’s words to Tanner absolutely correct. Will didn’t know if Tanner recalled any of it; they hadn’t spoken in detail since Tanner came home. But Will’s wife had told him in the hospital once they were alone. Due to her mother’s constant harassment, Bethany had been ready to file papers, unaware just how much she loved her husband.

  Childbirth, even under the guise of an epidural, altered Bethany Cassel in a similar way. She learned the futility of conceit, also the necessity of her spouse, a man awakened by an act of fate. Will’s eyes had been opened in a hospital, then so had Bethany’s; they had planned on Francesca Louise, an elegant combination, also wanted Tommie and Chelsea’s presence as soon as Sam and Jenny had held their grandchild. Vanessa was a thorn for both new parents, and Bethany would never be the same, what she told Jenny every chance she got, hearing her mother-in-law voice a similar notion. Motherhood altered a woman forever.

  They didn’t speak of this around Chelsea, only with Rachel and other moms. Everyone was surprised at Bethany’s newfound frankness, which not only translated in speech. Once her mother left, a harrowing ten days that Will endured with frail patience, Bethany unveiled her nursing baby. As Jenny Cope Cassel had openly breastfed all her children, so did Bethany Traynor Cassel.

  No one was bothered, which bolstered Bethany’s confidence. By the time relatives arrived for turkey at Tommie’s, a new woman sat with her infant, a baby renamed as well. It was Mama and Louise as Will called them, Bethany and Francesca sliding away.

  Will conceded they might be in Rhode Island for next year’s holiday as Chelsea added that she and Andy would probably be with his folks. But that year Eric and Paula Schumacher joined their daughter-in-law’s clan, the rest of their kids away. It happened every other year, Eric told Tommie, a fair arrangement. Chelsea had only one consideration, that her niece was now called Louise by everyone, cuddled and coddled just as Chelsea had been thirty years before.

  During that first month of Louise’s life, Chelsea and Andy had known a few changes too. When together, the newlyweds were clingy and affectionate, but not as they had been prior to matrimony. Being married altered everything, Chelsea said to her female relatives, once she and Andy had finally let go of the other.

  Those single noticed Chelsea’s new mood. To Rachel, Chelsea had been blunt; making love with her husband was completely different than with her boyfriend, the biggest and most shocking part of becoming Mrs. Andy Schumacher.

  Chelsea confided only to her sister, those two with plenty of time as Rachel came home every weekend. She hadn’t mentioned quitting school, but listened as Chelsea spilled her guts. Rachel might be seven years younger, but both were adults, and while Chelsea would tell Jenny just about everything else, she just couldn’t talk about loving Andy.

  What she shared with Rachel came down to two issues; a permanence opening a door to more passion, better communication, new willingness. Then the part Chelsea hadn’t anticipated, what she couldn’t tell her mom; Chelsea wished she could have a child.

  Sisters wept over a notion Chelsea had thought was long over. When Andy was her boyfriend, even her live-in lover, it never mattered. Chelsea allowed it was a niece who had changed from Francesca to Louise in four short weeks, but the newlyweds weren’t going to do anything about it, not even adopt. Maybe Sam had set Alvin aside, but if Chelsea was going to raise a child, it was going to be from her and Andy’s DNA. Rachel offered to have a baby for them, wringing more tears from the sisters. When Rachel came home on those weekends, she didn’t always sleep at her parents’ house; more often it was at her grandparents, what she still considered the Schumacher residence. While Andy worked, sisters talked more honestly than ever before, not only of Chelsea’s wishes and Will’s daughter, but of the rest. Jenny was back to a cycle of pain. David’s beard looked ridiculous. Eric and Dana were perfect for each other. Then to their dad, who seemed on edge. The sisters thought it was about Eric; maybe at Thanksgiving their father was going to eat crow, not only turkey.

  The women spoke of their own joys, which for Rachel was just being closer to Arkendale. She wasn’t at all interested in Zack Schumacher, wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. Then during the weekend before everyone came home, Rachel told her sister the truth. She was quitting school, was going to move home until she found a job and an apartment. Rachel had no desire to live even the two hours it took with bad traffic to get home. It was still too far, especially now with baby Louise, also Jenny feeling worse. If Dad was going to let Eric come home, Rachel had cried, Chelsea in tears alongside her, why not me too?

  Chelsea kept quiet about those plans, which Rachel might announce at Thanksgiving so their dad wouldn’t be a pill at Christmas. Yet Sam had enough on his plate, what with their mother’s small setback, which wasn’t expected with primary progressive multiple sclerosis. Jenny had seemed fine during the wedding and Louise’s birth. But since the beginning of November, she had been hurting, wasn’t as high as the sisters had expected, but that was due to the baby. Jenny preferred to ache with a clear head.

  Chelsea and Andy talked of it at length. Jenny never drove when on her meds, as Chelsea called them, staying at home or walking, if she felt able, to Tommie and Rae’s. Lately she had been stuck at the farm, wasn’t bedridden, but certainly slowed. Little Miss Louise came to see her grandmother, instead of Grandma Jenny visiting the baby.

  Lying in bed, Chelsea was nude, Andy too. Where before Chelsea’s night shirt or Andy’s boxers were worn, now those articles were unnecessary, even as the weather turned cold. Andy would crank up the heat, Chelsea setting another of her mother’s many afghans over them. Chelsea spent many nights in her husband’s arms, but lately a few of them had found her in tears.

  Many were for her mom; when Jenny hurt, Chelsea felt it, which was also new. Was it being a married woman? Chelsea hadn’t shared Bethany’s pain when Louise was born, but that was out of Chelsea’s range. She knew recurrent physical agony; perhaps that was it.

  Andy set his hand o
n her left breast, making small motions along her nipple. This was the part Chelsea had shared with Rachel, leaving no stone unturned. Andy didn’t know it, better that way, for if he had, he might refrain. Chelsea cried and giggled, thinking of all she had admitted to her sister; that since they got married, Andy had been more snuggly, but still in desperate need. He needed her breasts, Chelsea had laughed; good thing there was plenty to them.

  “Baby, you okay?” he asked, still stroking her nipple. “Chelse?”

  She backed into him, both on their sides, facing the right wall. “Andy, I told Rachel.”

  He moved his hand. “Told her what?”

  Chelsea smiled, then cleared her throat. “That I wished I could have your baby.”

  “Oh!” His relief was palpable. “What’d she say?”

  “Said she’d have one for us,” Chelsea laughed.

  Andy laughed too. “That was nice of her.”

  Then Chelsea turned, going into his embrace. “I told her it was just something I’d have to work through. I’m not my dad, or Scott and Alana.”

  “I’m not either.”

  Candor had existed since the beginning and while other things had changed, Andy remained a straight shooter. Chelsea wept, wishing even more she could have his child.

  He held her close, not much else to do. Neither had wanted kids before. That they didn’t want anyone else’s offspring had been unexpected.

  Andy kissed her. “Honey, it’s just not for us, and I’m okay with that, I really am.”

  “I know you are and I am too, it’s just that…”

  “Chelse, I know it’s hard.”

  She pressed against his chest, then proceeded to bawl her eyes out. Never before had her infertility mattered, never any man worth even pondering a family. Now there was and Chelsea would just have to wrench it from her system. There had never been a reason to hope, wish, dream. It wasn’t just Louise, but a fact Chelsea had never faced, only due to it never having been raised.

  What Bethany had learned, Jenny the same; in loving a man and having his baby, a life was made complete. Chelsea felt it only through marriage, and rued the other depth she would never plumb.

  On Thanksgiving morning, Chelsea stopped at her parents. Andy had gone to his folks, all meeting later at Tommie’s. In addition to Rachel and David, there was Eric and Dana, and when Chelsea arrived, a small surprise. Will and Bethany were there too.

  Louise was in full throttle, Will slumped in the corner of the couch, Bethany nearly asleep beside him. Their howling daughter seemed unbothered, at that moment in her Uncle David’s arms.

  “Hey hey little girl,” he crooned, then smiled at Chelsea. “You’re just in time, the next stop on the baby train.”

  “How long’ve they been here?” she whispered to Rachel, who met her sister at the door.

  “An hour. Seems Louise’s got a touch of colic.”

  Chelsea was happy to take the squalling infant, who quieted for a few seconds with the change of staff. Then Louise took a breath, those blue eyes wide, then closed, as a scream rushed forth. To Chelsea’s revelation, neither Will nor Bethany stirred.

  She smiled as Louise wailed, the new parents zonked but in a place they trusted. Anyone in this house would offer equal affection, but looking at Eric’s girlfriend, Chelsea saw a face in need of relief. Then Eric spoke. “Hey, not to cut and run, but we’re gonna step out. Meet you all at Uncle Tommie’s?”

  The answers were as expected, uh-huh’s and yeah sure’s. Dana looked overwhelmed, but not by the adults. Not everyone was good with babies, Chelsea allowed.

  She was, had been inundated with them since she was a toddler. Two years separated her and Will, then came David, Emily, Daniel, Mitch, Rachel… Now Chelsea held the first of the next generation, a baby she adored, even if Louise punctured one of her aunt’s eardrums.

  “Chelse, let me see her.” Sam set Louise tummy-down on his forearm, which quieted her.

  “Good one Dad. Man, that’s a loud baby.”

  “Just practice David,” Sam smiled, then cooed to his granddaughter. “Isn’t that right Louise?”

  “You guys really are calling her that,” David smiled, joining the sleeping parents on the couch.

  “They are,” Sam said softly, the baby still hushed.

  “Where’s Mom?” Chelsea asked as Eric and Dana waved their goodbyes, Rachel on their heels. Chelsea kissed her younger siblings, getting an unexpected hug from Eric’s girlfriend. Maybe she was only skittish of babies, Chelsea smiled.

  “Mom’s lying down.” David’s voice was low.

  Chelsea asked nothing more, noting her father’s state of bliss, Louise’s parents both asleep, and David looking drowsy. She passed by him, catching his eyes.

  Few words were needed. In that glance, Chelsea learned that it was fine for Will and Beth to catch a nap, and if Louise joined them, David wouldn’t mind. But that while Jenny was in her room, sleep wasn’t the reason.

  Chelsea found her mother wide awake and hurting. Jenny’s worn look was similar to one Chelsea knew first hand, a body plainly not cooperating. Yet Jenny had been aching for weeks, only a few good days interspersed. Chelsea sat in the open space, then gently scooted near her mom, a pillow between Jenny’s knees.

  “You want some pound cake?”

  That had become the gauge. If Jenny needed pound cake, all held a collective breath. From how stiff Jenny seemed, Chelsea felt a whole loaf was necessary, but she knew her mother. Maybe a few bites, if that, would be consumed.

  “It’ll pass. How are you and where’s Andy?”

  “He’s at his folks. I’m…” She wanted to say okay, but could hear Louise testing her lungs. Then David joined the fray, singing that Louise was just fine.

  Louise wasn’t fine, neither were the women on that bed. Jenny hurt like hell and Chelsea carried a small internal ache, but not the usual. If her mother wasn’t so debilitated, Chelsea would say something. “I’m good Mom. You sure you don’t want something?”

  A few tokes would be the fastest way, but then it was cumulative; Chelsea had researched this, once her mother had accepted marijuana as a form of pain relief. It wasn’t just getting high, but the tangible properties weed held, offering actual respite. Different strains provided an up, others helped Jenny sleep, what Sam was doing for Will and Bethany. Louise had quieted, David giving a play by play. He was enamored and Chelsea smiled. Maybe he would be the next Cassel to reproduce. Not that he had a girlfriend, but Eric and Dana were too young, and Rachel had no boyfriend. Chelsea blinked away tears as Louise began to cry again too.

  “Chelse, you all right?”

  “Mom, I realized something.”

  Jenny didn’t turn, but she reached back, finding Chelsea’s cheek, tears within her fingers. “Baby, come round where I can see you.”

  That made Chelsea weep more; her mom couldn’t even move her way. Chelsea was off the bed, then in front of her mother’s teary face.

  “Oh Mom, there’s just so much!” Chelsea’s voice went to a whisper.

  “You want a baby don’t you?”

  “Shit, how do you do that?”

  Jenny smiled, but still wept. “Not high. If I’d had something, I’d be too stoned to think.”

  Then Chelsea quietly lost it, not wishing to alert anyone; this was only for a mother’s comfort. “I just never knew how much it meant before. Now I do and it still doesn’t make a goddamned bit of difference.”

  “Honey, I felt the same before you were born. Then I realized it and could never go back.”

  “When?”

  “Before I had you, partly before I got pregnant, Alvin was so convincing.” Jenny smiled, then wiped both their faces. “He was the one who told me I’d be a good mother, sort of twisted my arm. Then it got to a point where I just knew it, and once we were pregnant, it only grew. Then I had you, oh Chelse, you were just like Louise, in my arms, in me. Why I wanted Will so much, why I ended up having three more after him.”

  Jenny s
miled and Chelsea nodded. “That’s how I’ve felt since Andy and I got married. But there’s little I can do about it.”

  Jenny flinched, then moved into the center of the bed. “Chelse, lay down next to me.”

  When both were flat, Jenny took a breath. “Honey, I did something recently, something I’d sort of forgotten about, but something that if I could I’d do again in a heartbeat.”

  “What?”

  “When we went to see Will play, in 2004.” Jenny’s voice was barely audible. “I was telling your dad that all I wanted was for you to find Mr. Right. Or Mrs. Right,” Jenny giggled.

  “Jesus Christ,” Chelsea laughed.

  “Honey, I just wanted you to be happy, to know what you have with Andy. I wasn’t sure if it was him, well, not completely. But you just have the biggest heart and I wanted that to be filled. And it is, my God. Andy’s so right for you, just like Beth is for Will.”

  Too absorbed in her own agony, Chelsea didn’t notice her mother omit Dana and Eric. Jenny didn’t realize it either.

  “Mom, Andy is it, and that’s, oh shit. That’s why it hurts so bad.”

  “Yeah, that’s why. Baby, I told your dad I’d do anything for you to fall in love, to be loved. Alvin gave up some part of his life for me, maybe that sounds weird. Not that he climbed that tree on purpose, but what he said afterwards, wanting Sam to care for you, me, and the baby, and he barely knew about Will, but Alvin knew enough. That night in San Francisco, I basically dared God, said I’d do anything for you to be happy.”

  Chelsea was quiet for a minute, so was Louise. As that baby cried, Chelsea’s tears spilled. “Oh my God Mom!”

  “MS was gonna happen anyway, I mean, I’ve probably had it since ’02, maybe ’03. But honey, it was worth it and I’d do it again for any of you.”

  Chelsea heaved tears, unsure if her nature was that magnanimous. But Jenny’s was, what Chelsea knew more about her mother than anything. For her husband and kids, Jenny would do, give, barter the world. She didn’t have this miserable illness so Chelsea could be happy, but Jenny would endure pain to function, even if it meant she hurt like hell.

  “Mom, how can you do this?”

  At that moment, Jenny almost revealed the reason. Never before, not even when Will floated that question, could she imagine recalling that part of her past. There in her bed, on a day to give thanks, Jenny had plenty for which to be grateful. The grown child in her arms, the tiny one in the other room, probably at her mother’s breast, for Louise now made sounds Jenny knew well, Bethany too. Taking a deep breath, instead of telling her daughter the truth, Jenny considered a prayer; that Chelsea and Andy might have a baby of their own.

  Before Jenny could speak or Chelsea to prompt for a reply, Sam stepped in. “Ladies, anyone for pound cake?”

  To Chelsea’s surprise, Jenny nodded. “Just roll me a joint.”

  “Make it a double?” Sam chuckled.

  As Jenny giggled, Chelsea felt the usual ache when her period was near. It had only been two months since the last one, but her body, like her whole life, was throwing wrenches. If there was some way, Chelsea would catch the ones her mother had been dealt. Instead she moved from the bed, helping her mom do the same. Jenny stood with assistance, then joined the rest, a daughter and husband at her sides. They found another family on the couch and an uncle sacked out in the rocker. Jenny laughed, then headed to the kitchen, where in a few moments she would step to the back porch and ease her pain, but not in a manner she wished.

  Chapter 9