Look How You Turned Out

by Diane Munier

  Dad's hand grips my shoulder, a kiss to the top of my head. He backs away and takes a chair by the wall cause he does that when the emotion rolls in big. Teresa steps in place and bends over the baby.

  Elaine and Don are next, but I've only got eyes for Juney. "Juney," I say. Marcus has come around the bed, and he sits there beside me. But Juney doesn't seem to be in here. He's waited and waited to see his sibling so where the heck is he, down the hall buying Cheetos?

  "Juney," I say again.

  Elaine looks behind her. "Juney went to the bathroom," Don says.

  Elaine bends deeply over the baby, strokes her hair. Don keeps his hands in his pockets. He looks expensive, like always. He's being kindly. Marcus is holding Rebecca's foot.

  "Get Juney," I tell Marcus because what the heck? I want that boy.

  Don volunteers. After a couple of minutes, Juney comes in alone.

  I'm about choked up to see him. I love him so much. "Well, come and see," I say to him.

  He's looking at her.

  "She's little," he says. "She's..so little."

  I laugh because I know he expected a big full-cheeked baby. And he looks absolutely huge hovering over her.

  "She'll grow," I say.

  He's stuck looking at her.

  "What do you think?" I ask, hating to pressure him to share his thoughts with everyone staring. Teresa even snaps a couple pictures, then Elaine does too.

  Juney doesn't answer, just keeps holding Rebecca's tiny hand. But I see tears.

  "Oh, can I…?" I say to Marcus.

  He gets up quick. "Hey…let's give them a minute," he says, and everyone slowly mills out. Artie is slower, and he squeezes Juney's shoulder before going out. Marcus comes back and takes Rebecca. She can't go into the hall so he sits in the chair Artie vacated.

  Juney is standing beside the bed twisting the covers around his finger.

  I put my fingers around his wrist, and he looks at me. He's quiet, but the tears roll fresh, and he sniffs and wipes them away with his shoulder.

  I pull on his wrist a little, and he sits on the bed beside me. He isn't looking at me again.

  "Dad said you wouldn't leave," I say softly.

  He doesn't answer, doesn't look. His hair is longer, for the summer. He wanted to let it grow, and we allowed it. He looks so much like Marcus.

  "Hey," I say tugging on his arm a little.

  "What?" he says, his round green eyes on me finally.

  "I love you."

  His face crumples a little. "I heard you yell," he says.

  I pull him against me then. I want him to feel how strong I am.

  Marcus stands. "Juney," he says. He wants to tell him to be careful. I know this.

  "He's okay," I say.

  Juney is on his side next to me, his arm stretched over me, his face buried against my shoulder. He's crying a little.

  I keep running my hand through his hair while he works it out. I know he's had a hell of a day. He wouldn't leave to eat something or to go home and rest. He's held vigil. He heard me at the end. It was too much.

  That's all. Marcus is concerned, more worried about me than anything.

  I smile at him, and he finally relaxes enough to sit back down. I let Juney be, let him lay there until a nurse comes into the room and he sits up then and gets on his feet. The nurse is checking on us, and when she leaves Juney is by Marcus, and he starts to examine this little interloper who caused all kind of havoc in his world today.

  He laughs when Rebecca makes a smacking sound and scares herself. Finally, he looks up at me and says, "She's cute."

  I just nod. The three of them…I'm so filled with love I might burst or something. "Juney, I feel like you're mine like I gave birth to you myself I love you so much. But I have to tell you, right now, I'm really thankful your mom did the dirty work."

  Yeah, that's probably not the smartest thing I've ever said. No one laughs. But Marcus is looking at me with one brow raised. "You need some rest, babe. I'll take her in the nursery and the family can look at her through the window."

  Juney stands back so Marcus can get on his feet. "Tell Mom goodnight," he says to Juney, "and you go out with the family. You can spend the night with Grandma, and she'll bring you home tomorrow after I bring Mom and the baby home."

  "Why can't I come with you? Granma can bring me early enough."

  "Well…it's up to Granma," Marcus says.

  Juney comes over to me and stands there. He's got a little smile.

  "Think I should bring her with me tomorrow?" I say.

  "Yes," he says like I'm crazy.

  "Be sure." It's a terrible joke, seeing as we were both abandoned by our own mothers, but that's what makes it the right joke too. I'm really acknowledging to him how much better we are.

  He takes a big breath and lets it out. "Bring her," he says like he can't trust me.

  "Okay. If you insist. Give me a kiss."

  He leans forward and offers his cheek, which I kiss. I ruffle his hair a little and Marcus tells him to go to Granma. At the door, he stops and waves at me, and I wave back. Then when Marcus is ringing for the nurse, Juney makes the twirly finger by his temple to let me know I'm crazy.

  "About you," I mouth.

  He does his usual cringe, but before he goes out, I get a smile.

  Chapter 74

  "Go on home and take Juney. He needs you and his own bed," I say.

  "What? I'm staying with you," my handsome, but exhausted looking husband says.

  "Hey," I say feeling more generous than at any other time in my life, "you don't sleep in these places. I have a whole staff here. You need rest, Sheriff, and Juney needs you."

  "Juney is fine. He'll have Mom doting on his every whim spoiling him rotten like usual."

  "You need to sleep," I insist. "Come in the morning after you've had your own bed. That's what will help me."

  I hold my hands out for the baby, so I can kiss and hug on her a little.

  "You serious?" he says, like I'd say this if I wasn't. "It's only six o'clock. I don't want to leave you two."

  He lays my little bag of sugar on my lap, and I scoop her close. She's starting to root a little. I'm going to breastfeed, and I figure us two needed to work it out because my first attempt felt awkward and frustrating. "Come get us in the morning then. But take him home and you can finish that chicken pie and play your games and get to bed. But make him shower. I'm going to sleep here and get better acquainted with this baby we happened to make almost immediately. I always said if we ever kissed we'd make a baby."

  "You can't get pregnant again if I just sleep here," he says sitting beside me. "I tell you how beautiful you are lately?"

  "Only about a dozen times while I was in labor," I smirk. "You're kind of full of it." I yawn then hugely.

  "You sure speak in poetry," he sighs squeezing my thigh.

  "Seriously? You're going to put the moves on me now?"

  He laughs and shrugs. "Can't help it. I don't know if I can leave," he says, his finger touching my cheek, then baby's.

  "If you don't go quick Juney will be gone." He knows how I am once I get it in my mind. What I need from him is to be with Juney. That boy needs to stay close to us.

  Speaking of, he appears in the doorway holding a huge bouquet and two balloons. "Hey," he says walking carefully to the windowsill and setting it there. "These are from everybody, but I picked the balloons. Grampa and Teresa left."

  "Oh thank you, Junior."

  "You're welcome Bedilia," he says.

  "Bedilia?"

  "You call your Dad Artie."

  "Do as I say, not as I do," I tell him. He loves that one. "Anyway, you know how that started?"

  He shakes his head.

  "We were in Artie's cruiser one day, he was taking me somewhere, and I was younger than you, and I was saying 'Mom.' Just practicing because I heard other kids say it all the time. So Artie hears, and we talk about it, and he says I can call him Mom anytime I want to. So my bright ide
a is that I'll call him Artie cause he's Mom and Dad."

  Juney scrunches his face. "You're hopeless."

  "Juney," Marcus corrects.

  But I'm laughing. "You're going home with your dad," I say.

  Juney's whole countenance shifts. "Am I?" he looks to Marcus for confirmation almost like he can't believe it. "You're leaving Mom?"

  "I want him to," I say quickly. I know this kid's capacity for hanging at the hospital and living on Cheetos. "You both need your rest."

  Marcus is looking at me all torn.

  "Go," I say.

  "You gonna text me?" he says.

  "Yes, I am." I really doubt it. Once he takes Juney it's all baby on the brain for me. I've got to get the feeding down. I'm aching to.

  "You never think of yourself," Marcus says. But that's exactly what I'm doing. While I think of them.

  He's getting that look, that love look. He's got it worse than ever now that there are two of us. I know he'll take Juney like I've asked once he sees reason. He has to have a couple of minutes to digest the idea, and he's looking at me. He likes to.

  So they hang around a little more, and I've got one on each side of me, body heat and all. We unwrap Rebecca and Juney loves her skinny bowed legs and thick little feet.

  I give them another fifteen minutes to be all clingy then I call time.

  Juney gives me a hug, and Marcus gives him money for the vending machine, warns him to get one bag of Cheetos only.

  Then he gives me a long kiss and hug. "Hey," he says fingers under my chin, "you are incredible. You know it?"

  "Yes," I say taking the path of least resistance. But pushing that baby out, and her being this darn cute...I am pretty incredible.

  "You know what you mean to me?"

  "Yes. But only God can make a tree," I say with fake humility.

  "Yeah, I'm thanking him, but baby, what did I ever do to get so lucky? This past year with you…," he's looking so deeply into my eyes, then to my mouth. I kiss him again cause he's trying to make a speech, and we've got about ten more seconds before Juney gets back with his faux food, and my breasts are getting ready to explode.

  In the morning, they come for us. I am so freaking tired, but happy. So happy. Long about three in the morning Rebecca and I finally clicked, and I experienced the satisfaction of feeding my child. Well, it's not milk yet but it's getting there. It's what she needs. Then the lactation coach met with me about an hour ago, so I think I'm good to go on keeping this baby alive.

  I'm tired when they get to my room. Marcus is wearing civilian clothes, always a welcomed sign that he intends to be home. Juney doesn't look fully awake, and I wonder what time they went to bed.

  Marcus has brought the bag I'd packed for Rebecca and myself with our clothes for going home. I have my dirty clothes in another bag, a literal plastic bag. They step out while I get dressed. I packed a blouse and a long skirt that is pretty forgiving in the waist. I'm a little thick there but not so bad. I expect in a few days I'll be down pretty much. It feels amazing to think there is no other human being in this sack of skin called me except for me. We've separated now, but our hearts are joined forever.

  So Marcus knocks to see if I'm ready, and I tell them to come back in, and they watch me get Rebecca ready, and I'm a little nervous about that, having this awful thought in my head, this scenario where I accidently break her arm or something while I get her dressed and how awful that would be, so I'm awkward about this, but I get it done, and I pretty well take forever. Juney gets the flowers and that, and I get in the chair, and Marcus puts Rebecca in my arms and off we go.

  In a few minutes, Marcus is driving the Jeep. Don followed him home the night before. Elaine drove the Jeep. and Marcus drove the cruiser. He secured the car seat in my car so he could drive it back this morning. I sit in back with Rebecca and Juney gets in front still holding that pot of flowers and battling those two big balloons. "Are we going to dothis all the time?" he seems happy to have dethroned me.

  "Don't get used to it," Marcus says. I'm not sure if he's talking to his son or me. Then he fusses about the balloons, and he helps Juney shove them under the dash.

  Rebecca isn't wild about the car seat so Marcus is out again, my door opens and he's watching me get Rebecca situated in the seat. I finally get her in there all comfy and I get the thing buckled. Then he's buckling me in, and I get a kiss, and Juney says, "Not here," and we ignore him and kiss again, and Marcus shuts my door and gets behind the wheel.

  He looks at me in the mirror. "All right back there?"

  "Yes," I say cause I've learned my husband needs some simple reassurance sometimes like when he's taking his baby home from the hospital for the first time and his wife too, who delivered a baby not twenty-four hours ago. But as we drive I must admit that the sun has never shone more brightly.

  But even still I think to myself, "What in the world do I know about taking care of another human being? Can I do this?

  What if I forget to do something like feeding her enough? What if she dies because I don't know what the heck I'm doing?

  This is one of those mother times again. I think of Teresa. I know there's Elaine, and she's very kind always, but I just have this shame to let her know how much I don't know. I want her to think well of me, and it's hard to think of admitting to her that I'm a spazz and a nitwit when it comes to mothering. Juney doesn't count. He is old enough to go back to default when I mess up, I mean he's old enough to survive me.

  "Babe?" Marcus says, and he's looking at me in the mirror.

  "What?" I say. Just him speaking to me helps snap me back to reality. But then I think, "What if she smothers?"

  "You okay?" Marcus says before pulling away from a stop sign.

  "Yes," I say.

  Juney is turned around looking at me, and I make big eyes at him, and he turns around with this smirk in place. I reach forward and pull his hair a little, and his face snaps my way.

  "You gonna help me take care of this baby?" I say.

  He smiles like he has a secret. "I ain't changing her diapers."

  So we continue toward home, and I get my phone in my hands, and I text Teresa. "You think I can do this—take care of a baby?"

  Then in a minute, she writes, "You need help?"

  "Just wondering if I can do this."

  Then in another minute, my phone vibrates, and I see it's Dad. I answer, "Hi Dad."

  "Hey, kiddo. You on your way home?"

  "Yes, Sir. We're in the Jeep."

  "Well, you let us know if there's anything you need."

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Cause you aren't alone in this, you know?"

  "Yes," I say looking out the window and swallowing a big old lump.

  "You will be a fine mother," he says. "I remember those dolls you used to play with. Other than letting that one swim in the toilet you always did a fine job of wrapping them in blankets and feeding them bottles."

  I have a picture in my head of playing around Artie's recliner with my dolls. I remember I always wrapped one up for him and made sure he gave her a bottle. But the funny thing was he'd pretend his was giving him fits, and he'd always end up giving her a spanking and saying funny things. And he'd call it Little Bedilia, or Hells Bells or Jelly Belly.

  "You want to do better with her hair, though. Some of those ones you had…I don't know what you did to their hair."

  "I washed it," I say defensively.

  "Yes, they all went in the bathtub and then they'd be full of water for weeks and get your clothes wet. I had to put my foot down on it."

  Poor Dad. I must have driven him crazy.

  "You're going to be fine Bedilia. You can do anything you set your mind to."

  I swallow another lump.

  "Dad…thanks."

  "Best thing I ever did in my life was have you, kiddo."

  I click off, and Juney whispers to Marcus, "Mom's crying," but Marcus already watches me in the mirror.

  "Mom's fine," Marcus says, and I look at h
im, "Aren't you hun?"

  They make me smile. All of them. What's really funny is I've brought another girl into their midst, and they've hardly had time to think about it. But this little mite sleeping so peacefully in her seat…she's going to change everything.

  Chapter 75

  First…about our son. Junior Stover.

  We are at home. But not. Home is across the street. Back and forth I go and each time I move one side of this road or the other I have more love around me. The wagon train is growing. But right now we're stuck.

  Practically speaking, our failure to move to Artie's before I had Rebecca was because we were in a debate, a heated discussion about where our room would be.

  It was a no-brainer for me. We'd sleep upstairs in the crow's nest, the baby with us, and Juney across the hall in my old room. Case closed.

  Marcus doesn't like it. He's taken care with the redo of Artie's old room, making it a master for us. It's small but still larger than our room in Marcus's house. He says we take the room on the first floor, put the baby in the little space near us. It's not much more than a big closet. But it has a window and can hold a crib and a chest. Artie had his office in there.

  But Marcus's plan would put Juney upstairs alone.

  It just seems too far. He's always slept on the same floor as Marcus. He's not like I was, really never scared to sleep upstairs by myself. I have a different personality. Being alone put something good in me, Artie down below manning the doors. Me, safe in my tower, my imagination. I was a princess, curious about the world, growing, calling to the white knight across the street. But I said, "Let me save…you."

  That's how it felt.

  Juney gets lonely. Searching for the other sitting in the front seat, ready to play the game of Life. I know he has Scrapper, but the mother roots were yanked hard in Juney. I know he didn't think to ask for Angela, but let's face it, a natural cycle was interrupted. There is the spirit, the inside, and it has a core and in it, you know things even if you can't write a song or a poem or a crappy paragraph, you know the spirit's whisper. You hear it in your soul. She's not dead. She's not in prison.