Just 18 Summers

by Rene Gutteridge

  Beth nodded, her throat swelling faster than she could talk. “I’m going to go put on some lipstick. I’ll be right back.”

  A hand touched her shoulder as she turned. “Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “I know this has been . . . a hard year. Aunt Jenny died. Nathan graduated. Now I’m getting married. But I want you to know you’re not losing me. Not like you lost Jenny. You’re gaining Marvin. He’s going to be a great addition to the family.”

  Beth put a finger to her tingling nose. “I’m sorry about all of this. It seemed so sudden, and I was afraid that you were . . .” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not afraid anymore.”

  “When Jenny died, I realized how quickly life can be taken away, and I decided that I would live every day with purpose. Jenny told me once, when I was little, that I should try to live like every day was my last. I know marrying Marvin isn’t the most cautious of decisions, but in my gut I know it’s right. I know he’s right.” Robin pulled Beth into a hug, the kind of hug that made you realize your kid was in a more mature place than you were. She gently patted Beth’s cheek. “You’ve been the best mom a girl could hope for.” And then she turned to join her bridesmaids.

  In the bathroom, Beth gazed into the mirror. It had a slight film over it, making the reflection foggy. Even with the blur, Beth knew it was going to take more than lipstick to fix this face. She started crying, but for the first time in a long time, they were tears of joy. By living her life fully every day, Jenny had reached into a future that wouldn’t be her own and impacted a young woman who wasn’t hers.

  Beth knew that it was her turn to do the same, every single day, with her kids home or not.

  She still had purpose on this earth. And it turned out she was a good mom too.

  CHAPTER 42

  DAPHNE

  SHE WAS AS UNCOMFORTABLE as she could ever remember being. Her ribs felt like they were going to explode—actually burst out the sides of her body. Her bladder now had the capacity of a walnut. Her hips, for no reason she could identify, hurt. And there wasn’t a single shoe in her closet that could make her ankles look human. She tried her best to sit erect in the metal-frame chair, but it creaked with the slightest of movements.

  Robin and Marvin said their vows, and Daphne watched Beth, who seemed lighter and happier than she had in weeks. Beth dabbed her eyes and nodded with every proclamation of love and commitment the two made to each other. Daphne loved the sheer happiness of weddings, but she couldn’t relax enough to enjoy this moment.

  As soon as Marvin and Robin dashed down the aisle, Daphne dashed to the bathroom, which was at the end of a small, dark hallway, like it was some kind of shameful secret. She told Tippy to walk on over to the reception hall. She’d be fine.

  But she didn’t feel fine. She felt like a whale in a skirt. What she wouldn’t give for her maternity sweats right now.

  It took her so long in the bathroom that by the time she walked out, the crowd noise had died down and there was hardly a person in sight. A slight pain shooting through her side caused her to pause and grab the wall, and as she did, she thought she heard the faintest sound of weeping. She glanced around, but there was nobody in sight. Still, she heard crying. The boards creaked as she walked toward the sound. As she got closer, she noticed a shadow emerging from the corner, dark against the afternoon sun shimmering through the window.

  She paused. Maybe she should just turn around. Someone was having a private moment. She should let them have it. But even as doubt filled her mind, she kept walking forward until the hallway turned. There, slumped against the wall, was a man with his face in his hands.

  Daphne tried to step backward, but the floor creaked, and as the man looked up, Daphne recognized him.

  “Oh, Larry, I’m sorry. I . . .” It was the most awkward thing, to see a strong man crying, tears streaking weathered skin. But it would be more awkward to walk away at this point, she knew. “Are you, um, okay?”

  He smiled, his bloodshot eyes squinty. “I’m okay. Just trying to . . . process my reality.”

  “Is something wrong? Should I go get Beth?”

  Larry glanced at her belly, which she was holding with both hands like it needed help staying where it was. “I bet you’re excited. Any day now, right?”

  “Two more weeks.”

  “I can remember every detail of the day Robin was born. The first time I held her. I was terrified about being a father, and then she opened her eyes and looked at me . . .” He choked through a few words she couldn’t understand. “The thing is, you think they’re going to stay small forever, and then suddenly they’re wearing lip gloss. You think they’re going to stay young, and then they’re driving. It just happens so fast. There are days you think the hardship of parenting will never be over, and then it is . . . and the next thing you know, God has put another man in charge of your little girl. I’ve lost my job today, in a sense. Maybe even to a better man.” A tear dripped right over his cheek and onto his jacket.

  Daphne didn’t know what to say. “Larry, nobody can replace you as her daddy.”

  “Did you know that she always wanted to go camping with me? She begged and begged me to take her, but I had things to do, and you know, it sort of passes away without you even realizing it.” He stood taller. “By the grace of God, she has turned out to be the kind of woman that any man would be lucky to have.”

  Daphne reached out to touch his shoulder. “You and Beth are amazing parents. Truly. If Tippy and I can do half the job you’ve done . . .” She looked down. “We can’t even seem to get through the pregnancy. I don’t know what we’ll do when the baby gets here.”

  Larry wiped his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You’ll be amazed at what you’re capable of when your baby arrives. It’s like you get superpowers or something.” He straightened his tie. “Listen, you go ahead. I’m fine. There’s cake and punch and all that. Rumor has it there are pizza bites, too. You don’t want to miss it.”

  Another pang shot through her, this time on the other side. She smiled through a grimace. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “I gotta get myself together. Tippy and Butch would never let me live this down. Our secret?”

  She laughed. “Sure.”

  Daphne made her way out of the building and across the most challenging gravel drive of her life toward the building where the reception was being held. She walked in unnoticed—the attention was on the bride and groom, taking pictures by their cake. In the back of the room she spotted an empty table.

  She tried not to groan as she lowered herself into the chair. Nobody wanted to hear a big, fat pregnant woman groan. But it seemed like it would make her feel better. Just one loud, long groan.

  Shifting in yet another metal fold-out seat, she tried to distract herself by watching Robin and Marvin dance, but nothing was working. And it kind of made her sad that she and Tippy were long past the days when they gazed into each other’s faces.

  Tippy spotted her from across the room and wove around the tables toward her. “There you are.”

  “Babe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I need some punch.”

  “Punch? You don’t drink punch. It has red food dye in it.”

  “I just need some. Now.”

  “But the book says you shouldn’t—”

  “Let’s just roll with it this once,” she said, pressing her fingers into her temples.

  “Oh, okay.” Tippy wandered off just as Helen approached her table, dropping into a chair with a disapproving sigh.

  “Can you believe it?” Helen’s gaze darted over the crowd. “I assumed we’d find Beth in a heaping puddle of nerves and sorrow somewhere near the grocery store punch. But she seems fine.”

  Daphne tried a pleasant smile, but she didn’t think it ultimately landed on her expression.

  Helen was now staring at her ankles. “Sweetheart, your electrolytes must be off. Are you drinking enough liquids?”


  Daphne tucked her ankles underneath her chair. “It’s a balancing act because I have my bladder to consider.”

  “I see.” Helen sighed loudly, which meant she was about to disapprove of something else. “This decor,” she whispered. “I mean, Pizza Hut tablecloths. Sure, I think they were going for gingham, but with a groom’s cake that looks like a giant supreme pizza, who isn’t going to make the pizza chain association? Who was their wedding planner? And if you think about it, the groom’s mother’s dress is the color of marinara sauce. Beth must be dying a thousand deaths.”

  Suddenly Helen looked startled, her gaze fixed on something across the room. “Is that Dr. . . . ?”

  Daphne turned to see what was so atrocious. A small gasp escaped. It was Dr. Reynolds! Why was he here? Daphne shrank in her seat while simultaneously looking sideways at Helen. “Do you know him or something?”

  Helen shook her head. “No. I’ve just seen his face on billboards around town. He’s a horse whisperer or therapist or something.” Helen fixed her attention on her punch.

  “Oh . . . hmm.” Daphne put a hand near her face, hoping he wouldn’t recognize her. She’d gone to him once after Beth mentioned his name. He’d offered good counsel about trying not to stress. She hadn’t exactly heeded his advice.

  “Hey, Mom,” Hannah, Helen’s middle daughter, said as she came up to the table. “Can I—?”

  “Not now,” Helen snapped. “Go play with the other kids.”

  “The kids? But I—”

  “Go,” Helen said, and Hannah skulked away. “Just wait,” Helen said as Daphne watched her. “The teenage years. Awful. You’ve given them everything in life, and they still hate your guts.” Helen glanced toward Dr. Reynolds and smirked as she watched Beth talk to him.

  Tippy, thankfully, returned with the punch. “Here you go.”

  “No.”

  “You said punch.”

  “No . . .”

  “You didn’t say punch?”

  “Tippy?”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you said punch.”

  “Something’s happening.”

  Tippy turned to look out at the wedding party. “What?”

  “To me. My . . .” She looked at Helen’s face to confirm. Yep, something was happening, because Helen was choking herself with her pearls. “. . . water broke.” And then, suddenly, Daphne couldn’t breathe. Pain the likes of which she’d never felt gripped her belly as if it were in a vise.

  “This isn’t the plan. . . . This isn’t supposed to happen for . . .” Each word was like pushing a beach ball through a keyhole. “Fourteen. More. Days.” Why couldn’t she breathe? “I’m not getting air!”

  Tippy was both frozen and frantic. He started scratching his head, his fingers the only thing moving on his whole body. “Um . . . um . . . how many minutes apart are the contractions?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “I’m supposed to get that information. You said to get that information!”

  “I don’t know!” She realized she was yelling because now everyone was staring. The only thing that could be heard was the slightest trickle of water down the side of the metal chair and Italian pizzeria music playing in the background.

  “Okay, um . . .” Tippy reached into her large bag and pulled out a book. A small crowd had gathered, mostly those they knew. Beth and Larry rushed over. Butch and Ava too.

  Daphne tried a small, appreciative smile even as she barked at Tippy, “Page 56!”

  Tippy was flying through the pages. He stopped. “It says I’ve got to get you to the hospital!”

  “What’s going on?” Beth asked.

  But Daphne couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe. The room was spinning. She’d been practicing and practicing the breathing. Why was nothing working right?

  “I’m having the . . .” She could only point to her belly. “I wasn’t expecting this tonight. It wasn’t supposed to happen . . .”

  Beth put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Breathe. Breathe.”

  Larry had a hand on Tippy’s shoulder. “Breathe, Tippy. Where are you parked?”

  But Tippy was still flipping through the book. “Ice chips! I need ice chips!”

  “Tippy,” Beth said. “You don’t have time. Go get the truck.”

  “The truck, the truck.”

  Larry said, “I’ll go with him. Let’s get Daphne to the door.”

  Beth and now Butch helped Daphne stand. In any other circumstance, it seemed she should be totally embarrassed that it looked as if she’d wet herself, but she didn’t care at the moment. She had a baby to protect, and she couldn’t let her come early. She was responsible now . . . completely responsible. Her chest seared with pain as she tried to breathe and grasp the magnitude of it all. Was she failing? Was this failing? She’d tried to do everything right. Eat all the right foods. Get all the right sleep.

  Butch and Beth, with an arm around each of hers, slowly walked her to the back doors of the hall, Beth assuring her and reminding her to breathe, Butch supporting most of her weight.

  “The book says . . .”

  “Daphne, honey,” Beth said as they stood waiting for Tippy to bring the truck around, “books are great. Nothing wrong with books. But this is a human life, and both life and humanity are unpredictable. There are no guarantees, nothing beyond this time right now. All the books in the world won’t help you live in the moment, so don’t miss a second of it. You’re going to be fine. God has a plan and a purpose for this little child, and He’s letting you be a part of it, so don’t worry. God is not surprised.”

  Daphne nodded, sweat trickling down her temple. Wow, it was hurting. That chapter on contractions was not doing this justice.

  “Daphne?”

  Daphne looked down and noticed Ava standing there. “Yes?”

  “Remember what I told you?”

  “Drawer handles are dangerous.”

  “The other thing. I told you that night before I left.”

  “To love my baby.”

  “Yes, that’s it. Love your baby. That’s what parents are supposed to do. My dad’s really good at it. And my mom was too.”

  Daphne touched her bright-pink cheek. In the few years that God allowed Jenny to be in Ava’s life, she’d done an amazing job with this little girl.

  As she clung to Butch for support, Daphne realized she would need to cling to Jesus just as tightly. There would be days of pain and sorrow and fear, just like now. She had no more control over this child’s life than she had over this day.

  Tippy hopped out of the truck. “Okay, let’s get you in.”

  “Wait,” Daphne said. Everyone froze. Daphne tried to talk through the pain. “Tippy, I need you to go get the book out of my bag.”

  “I have the book. It’s in the truck.”

  “Not that book. The other book.”

  “You’re going to have to be more—”

  Robin suddenly ran outside, hiking her dress up with one hand and carrying Daphne’s bag in the other. “You forgot this.”

  Daphne let go of Beth and took a moment to rummage around until she found what she was looking for. Her hand emerged with another book. She looked at Ava. “Your mom gave me this book.”

  “She did?”

  “It’s a prayer book, with all the prayers she prayed over you when you were little.”

  Ava looked up at Butch. “That’s cool.”

  “Maybe after our baby is born, you can come over to my house, and I can show it to you.”

  “I would like that.”

  Another piercing pain shot through her belly and she winced. They helped her to the truck, where Larry opened the door and Butch boosted her into the seat. Tippy was soaked in sweat. She waved a thank-you, and Tippy tore out of the parking lot, tires squealing.

  “Honey, you’ve got to calm down,” Daphne said, touching his arm.

  “But we’re not on the plan. The plan!”

  “The plan’s out the window.”

  “It
is?” She felt the truck slow a bit.

  “Yes. We’re getting ready to meet our little angel.”

  “Is that what we’re naming her?”

  “I’m speaking metaphorically.”

  “Oh. Because it could be a boy.”

  “Trust me—it’s a girl.”

  Tippy gazed at her more than the road. “You’re back,” he said with a grin.

  “Was I gone?”

  “Kind of.” He drove with fierce but cautious determination toward the hospital, smiling all the way.

  CHAPTER 43

  HELEN

  ON THE DRIVE HOME, Helen mentally went through the rest of her day. Madison’s family birthday celebration had been pushed to this evening because of the wedding, and Charles was flying back from his trip. Cory had a mound of homework. She hoped he was getting it done. She still needed to go get the cake, maybe pick up another small gift. Helen turned off the radio that Hannah had turned on a few minutes ago. She couldn’t stand the noise, and it wasn’t helping to get that silly pizzeria music out of her head anyway.

  “I was listening to that,” Hannah said.

  “My head,” Helen groaned, rubbing her right temple. “There was so much wrong with that wedding, I don’t know where to start.”

  “I met Marvin. He was nice.”

  Helen shrugged. “I suppose. It’s just that it was campy, you know? Pizza cake. Pizza music. The tablecloths.” She glanced at Hannah, touched her arm. “I promise you, sweetie, you will never have to have a wedding like that. Yours will be classy and beautiful and the envy of everyone there.”

  There was silence for a while. Helen was lost in her thoughts about what in the world she was going to say to Beth the next time they saw each other. Admittedly, Beth and Larry had looked very happy, but she was bound to ask what Helen thought, and Helen figured she’d see through any lie she would attempt to tell about how wonderful the wedding was.

  “Mom?”

  “What?”

  When Hannah didn’t answer, Helen glanced over to see what the delay was about. Hannah tended to get distracted, leading Helen to often wonder if she should get her tested for ADHD.