Miss Julia Rocks the Cradle

by Ann B. Ross

  “Oh, Coleman, would you?” I rummaged in my pocketbook and brought out a set of Sam’s keys. “I just happen to have these with me. If his heat is on, would you let Lillian know so she and Latisha can go over there?”

  “If it’s on, I’ll get them there.”

  I could only murmur, “Thank you.” I hated asking another thing of him—he needed to be in bed.

  As Coleman aimed for the emergency entrance, which had been thoroughly scraped and salted, Lloyd, who’d been unnaturally quiet, said, “I can hardly believe I’ve got two sisters, can you, Miss Julia?”

  Before I could answer, Coleman said, “You’re in for a treat, Lloyd. There’s nothing like a little baby girl, and you have two of them. I call Gracie my Everything Girl, and you’ll feel that way about your sisters. You might’ve wanted a little brother or two, but believe me, girls will steal your heart.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I was kinda counting on at least one little brother, but I’m trying to be content in whatsoever state I find myself.”

  I glanced sharply at him. “Who’s been teaching your Sunday school class?”

  “Mrs. Ledbetter.”

  Uh-huh, I thought. “Well,” I said aloud, “far be it from me to contradict her, but consider this: if everybody remained content in whatsoever state they found themselves, nothing would ever get discovered, invented, completed, improved, or done. There’s more to knowing Bible verses, Lloyd, than simply being able to repeat them.” I gathered my pocketbook as Coleman, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth, pulled to a stop beside the emergency entrance. “You have to rightly discern the word of truth. Thank you so much, Coleman. Would you like to come in and see the babies?”

  “No’m, I better get on. I’ll get the suitcases inside for you if you and Lloyd can manage after that. Then I’ll check on Sam’s house and Lillian.”

  I opened the door and considered the long slide to the ground. “You’ve been a wonderful help, Coleman. We’d still be stranded at home if not for you.”

  “I’m just glad you didn’t try to get out on your own. There were more than a hundred wrecks in the county last night, and by this time I’m feeling like a regular Saint Bernard.” He grinned, then hurried to my side of the truck just in time to save me from an embarrassing fall as my feet slid out from under me.

  Having received directions to Hazel Marie’s room, Lloyd and I rode the elevator to the maternity floor, our hands and arms laden with suitcase, makeup case, and a grocery sack of Etta Mae’s clothes. Lloyd was having a hard time half carrying and half sliding his mother’s suitcase along. It had been packed and ready for weeks, and from the weight of the thing, she’d prepared for a lengthy hospital stay.

  I tapped on her door, then pushed it open. She was asleep and so was Etta Mae, who was curled up in a large upholstered chair over in the corner.

  Before I could stop him, Lloyd ran to the bed. “Mama?” he whispered.

  She came awake immediately and clasped him in a loving hug. He had about outgrown such affectionate maternal displays and usually slithered away from them. But not this morning. He not only endured, he hugged her back.

  “Have you seen your sisters?” Hazel Marie asked.

  “No, we came straight here. But, Mama, I didn’t know a thing until Latisha woke me up this morning. I sure wish I’d been there when they came.”

  “Well, you were,” Hazel Marie said. “You were upstairs, right over our heads. And, Lloyd, they came so fast that nobody had time to do anything else. But I was thinking about you the whole time.”

  Etta Mae stirred in the chair and came awake with a wide, uncovered yawn. “Hey, Miss Julia. Man, I’m glad to see you and my clothes.” She laughed. “I’m not used to running around in my pajamas half the day. Hey, Lloyd. Let me get dressed, and I’ll take you to the nursery to see the babies.”

  I gave her the grocery sack and she went into the bathroom to get dressed. “Hazel Marie,” I said, walking to the foot of the bed, “I brought your makeup case.”

  “Oh good. I don’t feel right without my face on. Did you talk to J.D.? What did he say?”

  “He said he’d be here sometime this morning, but I tell you, Hazel Marie, the roads are bad and it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s later than that. I’d worry about his driving if Sam wasn’t with him. He won’t let Mr. Pickens take any chances. But tell me,” I went on, “how’re you feeling this morning?”

  “Sorta like my granddaddy used to say: like I’ve been rode hard and put up wet.” She smiled, lighting up her pale face. “But oh so happy that they’re here and everything’s all right. I just wish J.D. had been home.”

  “Well, Mama,” Lloyd said, “Miss Julia said that having babies is woman’s work, so you pro’bly would’ve let him sleep through it too.”

  Hazel Marie reached up and stroked the side of his face. “I probably would’ve.”

  But I knew better. If Mr. Pickens had been there, he’d have been in the thick of it, getting in the way, insisting on driving her to the hospital—tree blocking the drive or not—giving orders without knowing a thing about what was taking place, and generally making a nuisance of himself.

  On second thought, however, it struck me that contrary to his usual take-charge manner, he might’ve been reduced to a quivering mass of nerves, completely unable to face up to the consequences of his actions. It would’ve been interesting to have seen his reaction to a home delivery, but I hoped to high heaven that Hazel Marie had had her last one because, interesting or not, I could do without seeing what he would do.

  Etta Mae dashed out of the bathroom, fully clothed, including her pointy-toed boots. “Thanks so much, Miss Julia, for bringing my toothbrush and comb. I’m feeling halfway human again.” She turned to Lloyd. “Ready to see those babies?”

  “Yes, ma’am! Come on, Miss Julia, let’s go see ’em.”

  Etta Mae led us to the end of the hall, where she stopped at a wide window that was covered with blinds. She tapped on a door and asked if we could see the Pickens twins. Then the three of us stood before the covered window waiting for the curtain to go up. When it did, we saw a row of bassinets, each with a swaddled baby in it. The nurse pointed to the two right in front of us, but I declare, I had to take her word for it. I wouldn’t have been able to pick them out from any of the others.

  Lloyd gasped at the sight and pressed his face against the window. In an awed voice, he said, “They’re so little.”

  After he’d steamed up the window, he turned to Etta Mae. “Why’ve they got those little caps on?”

  “That’s to keep them warm,” she said.

  “Oh.” He gazed at the babies again until one of them yawned and the other screwed up its face. “Oh look! One’s sleepy and one’s about to cry. Is it all right?”

  “They’re both fine,” Etta Mae assured him. “And if you watch long enough, you might see them smile in their sleep.” She paused. “That means they have gas.”

  “My goodness,” I murmured. But I was as awed as Lloyd was. I could hardly take in the presence of these two little ones in our lives. And all because Wesley Lloyd Springer, my first unlamented husband, hadn’t been able to walk the walk as well as he’d talked the talk. Because he’d taken Hazel Marie to his adulterous bed, then left her and his son penniless, which brought them as a last resort to my door, I now had a life richer than any wealth he could have left. And he’d been no slouch when it came to amassing worldly goods.

  It did my heart good to know that he’d be gnashing his teeth if he knew where and to whom his money had gone.

  Actually, whenever I was able to take a cosmic view of things, I had to laugh at what Wesley Lloyd had unwittingly wrought in my life, even though I well knew that my welfare had been the last thing on his mind during his dalliance with Hazel Marie.

  It just goes to show, as Emma Sue Ledbetter was known to say, that all things work together for good. I’d once made it my business to look up that verse and found that she ofte
n left off the last part of it. But that didn’t matter, the last part of the verse assured me that I still qualified for having things work out for good, anyway.

  Chapter 15

  By the time we got back to Hazel Marie’s room, she had finished her beauty regimen and had her bed cranked up behind her back. She looked considerably better than she had the night before, but the circles were still under her eyes and tired lines marked her face. And no wonder. If I’d gone through what she had—and without a whiff of anesthesia, mind you—I’d have looked worse than the wreck of the Hesperus.

  She stopped brushing her hair and held out a hand to Lloyd. “Did you see them, honey?”

  “Yes’m, and I still can’t believe it. One of ’em was fixing to cry and the other one was yawning.”

  Etta Mae stood behind Lloyd with her hands resting on his shoulders. “They were waking up and about to let us know they’re hungry. The nurses will be bringing them in to your mother pretty soon.”

  “Well, but,” Lloyd said, “how’re we going to tell which one is which? They both looked alike to me.”

  My eyes got wide and something dropped in the pit of my stomach. Had we mixed them up to begin with? How in the world would we be able to tell one from the other?

  Etta Mae laughed. “Lillian and I made sure we knew which was which, don’t worry about that. By now, though, the nurses will have little pink bracelets on their arms. One will say Baby Girl Pickens One and the other will say Baby Girl Pickens Two.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Lloyd said, but it wasn’t to me because I hadn’t seen Lillian or Etta Mae do a thing to distinguish those babies. All I knew was that I had held the firstborn, then we’d given both to Hazel Marie while we waited for Coleman. And for the life of me, I couldn’t remember which baby was which after that.

  “I tell you what,” Lloyd said to his mother. “When you pick out their names, we can put them on their bracelets. So I think you better do that as soon as you can.”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about names,” Hazel Marie said. “But I can’t decide. For one thing, I really didn’t expect to have to name two little girls. If one had been a boy, I was going to name it for J.D., and if it’d been two boys, the other would be for Mr. Sam.”

  My goodness, that pleased me enormously, as I knew it would Sam as well. Too bad that it was water over the dam now.

  “And,” Hazel Marie went on, “I’d about decided on Britney if only one had been a girl.” She stopped and thought about it. “I guess I was counting on one of each, now that I think about it. They’d have been Jamie and Britney.”

  Well, I declare, I thought, so Mr. Pickens’s first name was James. That was a good, strong name. I couldn’t, however, say the same for Britney. I so wanted to caution Hazel Marie about choosing a name that would date the child. A name made popular by some flash in the pan quickly goes out of fashion, while the child remains burdened with it. What, I wanted to know, was wrong with good old-fashioned names like Mary or Alice or Elizabeth?

  “Well, but, Mama,” Lloyd said, “you’ve got to come up with another girl’s name now.”

  “I know,” she sighed, “and I love Lindsay too, but I’m afraid that’s out.”

  “I should say so,” Etta Mae chimed in. “And Britney too, for that matter. You wouldn’t want to name those babies for two of the wildest girls in Hollywood, would you?”

  “No, I guess not,” Hazel Marie said, as I mentally thanked Etta Mae for saying what I was thinking. “Anyway, I’ll wait for J.D. and see what he says.”

  “I thought you had to have names that rhyme,” Lloyd said. “You know, like Loyce and Joyce, or Annie and Fannie or Frannie or something.”

  Hazel Marie smiled. “People don’t do that so much anymore, honey. Besides, I can’t think of any rhyming names I like.”

  Etta Mae said, “I used to know some twins named Carrol and Farrol. They were brothers.”

  I wanted to add my two cents’ worth, but it hadn’t been asked for, so I refrained. I couldn’t imagine what names Mr. Pickens would think up. You could never tell with him, and with a last name like Pickens, I hoped he would carefully consider the aptness of whatever he chose.

  “Knock, knock.” A nurse pushed in through the door, holding a cocooned baby. “We have two hungry babies here.”

  Another nurse, carrying the other baby, followed her in, and Hazel Marie’s face immediately lit up.

  Lloyd and I backed away from the bed to give them room. I thought we’d be told to leave, but Hazel Marie began unwrapping one of the babies.

  “Look, Lloyd,” she said. “Come look at her little tiny feet. You want to hold her?”

  Lloyd edged closer, but not too close, as the baby began to cry, its little arms and legs waving in the air.

  “No’m, I’ll wait,” he said.

  “Good thing too,” the nurse said. “This little girl is hungry.” She began to disrobe Hazel Marie as the other nurse propped up some pillows for the second baby.

  I couldn’t believe it. They were putting both babies to the breast at the same time, and right out in view of us all.

  “Lloyd,” I said, “let’s you and me go to the snack shop. I could use some coffee right about now. You can hold them when we get back.” And, I thought to myself, when the feeding spectacle is over. There are some scenes to which children just should not be exposed.

  After asking Etta Mae to join us and being turned down in favor of staying to make sure the babies nursed properly, Lloyd and I left. I was just as glad to be out of the room, and more than glad that he was out of it. It was amazing to me, given my limited experience with newborns, that babies have to be guided and coaxed into nursing. The last straw for me had been when one of the nurses had shown Hazel Marie how to encourage the baby to latch on—a concept too graphic for me to take in.

  Lord! I had to get out of there and get Lloyd out too.

  After hot chocolate for Lloyd and coffee for me, along with toast for both of us, in the snack shop, we went back to the room. By that time I’d warmed up enough to come out of my coat, feeling guilty about Lillian and Latisha at the same time. Here we were in the warm hospital while they were shivering in that frigid house.

  “I should’ve brought all the cell phones, Lloyd,” I said as we stepped off the elevator. “We could’ve recharged them here.”

  “Yes’m,” he agreed, but his mind was on something else. “You think the babies are still with Mama?”

  “Probably,” I said, nodding. “We haven’t been gone that long. But now that I think of it, Lloyd, even if I’d brought the phones, it wouldn’t have done us any good. We wouldn’t be able to call them if all the phones were with us.”

  “Maybe they’re at Mr. Sam’s house getting warm.”

  “I hope so.” But I feared not.

  He pushed open the door to his mother’s room and I walked in behind him. Hazel Marie had one baby on her shoulder, patting its back, while Etta Mae stood by the bed with the other one.

  “Here they are,” Etta Mae said. “Come sit down, Lloyd, so you can hold your sisters. They’ve had their breakfast and this one told me she wanted you.”

  Lloyd grinned as splotches of color tinged his cheeks. He went over and sat in the chair that had been Etta Mae’s bed. “Is it all right for me to hold them?”

  “Of course it is,” Hazel Marie said. “Just crook both arms and Etta Mae will give them to you.”

  I bit my lip, wondering about the appropriateness, to say nothing of the safety, of such seeming carelessness. Oh, I knew Lloyd wouldn’t drop them or hurt them in any way. It was just that I’d always thought you shouldn’t handle newborn babies too much. Like puppies, you know. Why, I once knew a woman who’d had a baby, and she carried that infant around on a pillow for the longest time. It must’ve been sitting alone before she ever picked it up and held it without that pillow between her and it.

  I’ve often wondered how that child turned out.

  When Etta Mae stepped back,
I could see Lloyd holding both babies, one in each arm. His face was beaming with pleasure and, I think, with embarrassment at being the center of attention.

  “Get your camera, Etta Mae,” Hazel Marie said, as she leaned over to watch her three children. “I have to have a picture of that.”

  Etta Mae got out her fancy phone and snapped away. “Just hold real still, Lloyd.”

  “Well, but they’re wiggling,” he said, frowning as one kicked out. “Are they all right?”

  “They’re fine,” Hazel Marie said. “I think they know their big brother has them.”

  The nurses came in then to take the babies back to the nursery. They oohed and aahed at the sight, everybody thinking it was so cute, as they said, for big brother to be taking care of his sisters. But it was a relief to me to have those babies back in professional care. I think it was to Lloyd too, because he’d barely taken a deep breath the whole time he’d had them.

  “You did real good, Lloyd,” Etta Mae said. “There’s only two things you have to watch out for with little babies. One is to always support their heads, because their neck muscles aren’t strong enough yet. And the other thing to watch out for is the soft spot on their heads. The bones in their heads haven’t grown together yet, so you have to be careful about that.”

  Lloyd’s eyes grew big. “You mean they have holes in their heads? Where? I didn’t see any.”

  Etta Mae started laughing as Hazel Marie began explaining newborn anatomy to Lloyd.

  I pulled Etta Mae to the side, whispering, “Etta Mae, I’m worried to death that we mixed those babies up. Do you really know which one came first?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I do. Lillian told me to tie a bow on the first one and a knot on the other.”

  “A bow and a knot? Where?” Thinking of hair ribbons for little girls, I went on, “And with what?”

  “With Lloyd’s shoelaces, Miss Julia, and if you think about it, you’ll know where.”

  Chapter 16

  After the babies were gone, we all found chairs and sat around watching as Hazel Marie’s eyes got heavier and heavier. Actually, I began to nod off myself, in spite of the hard chair I was sitting on. It had been a busy night with little sleep for anyone. If I’d had a car and if the streets had been passable, I would’ve gone home. If, that is, home had been as warm as the hospital.