A Sliver of Sun

by Dianna Dorisi Winget

  The conviction in Ginger’s voice made me weak-kneed with relief. I edged back against the car for support.

  “Well, that’s not right,” Ben said. “Not right at all.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I forgave her.”

  Ben arched an eyebrow at me, then he shook his head as if he didn’t know what to make of it.

  I tried hard to read his face as Ginger told the rest of the story. But he was a tough read, as he didn’t look up much. He spent most of the time wiping his hands with the rag, going over each finger real slow and careful, as if he didn’t want to miss even a speck of grease or oil.

  But when Ginger got toward the end of our tale, about Angela getting kicked out of school, he finally set the rag aside and crossed his arms.

  “Two days isn’t near long enough,” Ginger said, “but at least it’s somethin,’ right Piper Lee?”

  “Right,” I said.

  “Okay,” Mama said, “now let’s hear the details about the lumber store.” She looked at Ben. “Did you know Piper Lee spilled a bag of fertilizer as y’all were leaving Mr. Griffon’s store?”

  Ben raised an eyebrow again. “Uh, no ma’am.” But then he glanced off into the air like he was trying to recall something. “I do remember some sort of ruckus as we were walking out the door, but I didn’t think it had anything to do with us.”

  “Well,” Mama said, “apparently it did.” And she fixed me with an expectant look.

  I swallowed. “Remember when you and Mr. Griffon went outside to get the lumber and stuff? Well, Angela started making fun of me and Ginger. She was showing off about having a job and all, and about getting free gumballs. And she started teasing Ginger about the book report real snotty like, asking if she’d gotten it done yet. And then after that, she called us Southern hicks.”

  Ben had kept a pretty serious look the whole time, but when I said that, his mouth started quivering on one side, like he wanted to smile. “Southern hicks, huh? What’d you do to deserve that one?”

  “Told her she didn’t know the difference between garden dirt and cow poop, and she said the only reason I did was ’cause I was a Southern hick.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “Those are fightin’ words, all right. I’m surprised you didn’t haul off and smack her.”

  My hands curled into fists at the memory of it. “I sure wanted to,” I said. “But Mr. Griffon had her stacking those little bags of fertilizer, so when you came back in and she went to answer the phone, I let one of em fall on the floor, and it … it just kinda busted open.”

  “Just kinda, huh?”

  Mama clicked her tongue with disapproval.

  “But Mama,” I said. “She deserved it. If you were there, you’d know.”

  “I don’t suppose it ever occurred to you to follow the Good Lord’s advice and turn the other cheek?”

  I did a double take. “Not with somebody like Angela.” I didn’t mean it to be funny, but Ben quit fighting his grin and let it take over his face.

  “Ben Hutchings,” Mama scolded “that fertilizer cost Mr. Griffon money, and all you’re doing is encouraging her.”

  Ben burst into a deep rolling chuckle and turned up his hands in a helpless gesture “What would you have me do, Heather? Beat her backside for defending herself and her sister?”

  Mama rolled her eyes. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she said, but her voice was leaning toward laughter too. But I didn’t look at her. I was too busy watching Ben’s shoulders shake and listening to that deep, rolling laugh, and a sense of awe came over me, because I’d actually done it—I’d made him crack up for real—without even trying.

  And then Ginger started to giggle, and a few seconds later all of us were laughing, and I felt lighter than air. And what I wanted more than anything was to throw my arms around Ben and thank him for understanding, and for not being mad—but of course, wanting to do something and having the courage to do it were two very different things. But there was one thing I could do—something not near as scary. I could offer him that cap after all. I’d wait for him to go inside to wash up for work, and then I’d give it to him.

  And right then, smack in the middle of one of the best moments ever, the unthinkable happened.

  Mama wet her pants.

  The first clue something was wrong was Mama’s choking gasp, a noise that cut right through all our laughter because it sounded so weird and out of place. And Mama stood there with a dark, wet stain seeping through her jeans, and a horrified look on her face. “Oh, Lordy,” she breathed, “my water just broke!”

  • • •

  We’d been at the hospital for over an hour before Miss Claudia waltzed into the waiting room where Ginger and I were watching Anne of Green Gables. She wedged her bulk between us on the floral couch and put an arm around each of us. Then she explained exactly what was going on. Mama hadn’t peed her pants after all, she’d lost her amniotic fluid, which was the fluid inside her where the baby floated.

  Ginger screwed up her face, as if she was trying to decide whether she was worried or disgusted. “So, what’s that mean?”

  Which was the exact question I wanted to ask but was too scared.

  “Means the baby’s ready to come, sure enough.”

  Ready to come. Ready to come. Her words pounded in my ears like a hammer driving nails. I-f I hadn’t convinced Ginger to write the fake book report, we wouldn’t have gotten in trouble at school. Mama could’ve been home resting, staying off her feet like she was s’posed to, instead of having to hurry to the school for a meeting with Mrs. Holloway. The whole thing was my fault. “But it’s too soon,” I whispered.

  “It surely is,” Miss Claudia said. “But sometimes babies don’t care about the calendar.”

  I clenched my hands together. “Is Mama gonna be okay?”

  “I think your mama’s gonna be just fine, Piper Lee. It’s the baby that might have a bit o’ trouble. That’s why the doctor’s gonna try to stop your mama’s labor pains. Give the baby a bit more time. But if he can’t, then he’ll take it by cesarean.”

  “That means they’ll cut it out,” Ginger said.

  I cringed. The very idea made me feel like I might throw up, and I felt a surge of fury against the baby. If anything happened to Mama, I’d never forgive myself, but I’d never forgive that kid either. “Can I see her soon?” I asked.

  “Not jus’ yet,” Miss Claudia said. “But I’m sure your daddy will be along real soon to give us an update. For now we just need to sit tight.”

  I curled up in the corner of the sofa and tried to recall the happy, wondrous feelings of just a few hours before, but I couldn’t. The good feelings were all gone, replaced by the awful flip-flopping of my belly as it threatened to rise in my throat. I even felt too woozy to watch the movie, so I closed my eyes and just listened instead. And it helped a little, least till the movie ended, and Ginger interrupted my concentration.

  “Do ya’ know where the bathroom is?” she asked. “I gotta go.”

  “I shore don’t,” Miss Claudia said, “but I’ll bet we can figure it out. And I might just stop by the cafeteria for a cup of coffee.”

  She heaved herself up. “You coming along, Piper Lee?”

  As soon as I opened my eyes, the room started swimming again, and the idea of standing didn’t hold much appeal. “Think I’ll just stay here.”

  “You sure, child? I’ll get you somethin’ to snack on. You want a drink, maybe?”

  “No, ma’am,” I said. “I’m not hungry just now.”

  Miss Claudia hesitated for a moment longer before nodding. “All righty then, you sit tight, and we’ll be back in jus’ a bit.”

  I stretched my legs across the sofa, glad for the extra space. But the waiting room suddenly felt cold and empty and scary somehow. And after only about two minutes, I started wishing I’d gone with Ginger and Miss Claudia.

  Then loud groaning noises came from out in the hall—awful noises like somebody suffering—and a lady shuffled past the
open door, her big pregnant belly bulging out of her hospital gown. A nurse walked on one side of her and a man on the other.

  “I need to lay back down,” the lady wailed. “Oh, God, it hurts.”

  I broke out in a cold sweat and pulled my knees up to my chest.

  “Deep breath, Shirley,” the nurse said. “Deep breath, we’re almost back to your room.”

  “I c-c-can’t,” the lady blubbered, her face twisted in pain.

  “Of course you can,” the nurse said. “It’s just around the corner.”

  I started shaking. What if Mama was in that kind of pain? What if she was suffering? Where was she?

  And right then is when Ben walked through the door. I must’ve looked a sight, because he stopped short and jerked his head back. “Piper Lee?” His eyes swept the room. “Where’s everybody else?”

  I was so relieved to see him I could barely make my tongue move. “To find a b-b-bathroom.”

  “Hey, now,” Ben said, and he sat on the arm of the couch and gestured to me, and I walked right into him and sat on his knee, and he tightened an arm around me.

  It was the first time Ben had ever hugged me.

  The day the prison riot ended, when we’d met at the hospital, I’d been part of a group hug, made up of all four of us. But this was the first time Ben had ever hugged just me. And for I second I sat stiff, but then I smelled the fresh linen fabric softener Mama used to wash our clothes, and I relaxed against him, and he felt solid and strong and safe.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “What’s happening with Mama?” I asked.

  “She’s just down the hall,” Ben said. “The doctor gave her a shot that’s supposed to help the baby’s lungs develop. Then they’re gonna take it by C-section.”

  The blubbering lady had moved past the door, but I could still hear her carrying on about how much pain she was in, and I couldn’t keep the tears back any longer.

  “Hey, now,” Ben said. “Your mama’s gonna be okay.”

  “But I feel like it’s my fault.”

  “Why you think that?”

  “Cause,” I sniffled, “if she hadn’t had to come get us at school, her water might not have broke.”

  Ben snorted. “Your mama wasn’t staying off her feet even when she was home, Piper Lee. Not unless I was ridin’ herd on her. None of this is your fault.”

  I figured he was only trying to be nice, but the words sounded mighty good anyway. I let out a long, slow breath.

  “Speaking of school,” Ben said a minute later, “how’s that Tate boy?”

  I blinked in surprise at the change of subject. “Ramsay? He’s okay.”

  “Well,” he said, “this may seem like an odd time, but while we’ve got a minute alone, I’ve been meaning to talk to you ’bout him.”

  Ben’s voice had taken on a gruffer tone, and I tensed up again. “I haven’t said anything more to him about his dad.”

  “Yeah, well, I talked to his daddy last week,” Ben said. “Told him his boy was worried about him. Seems he didn’t have much choice in attacking that guard.”

  I turned his words over in my mind, struggling to make sense of them. Was he saying that somebody made Mr. Tate take part in the prison riot? “What does that mean?” I finally asked.

  “Means there’s a lot more to the story. Anyway, I told him if he wrote his boy I’d see that he got the letter.”

  I raised my head off his shoulder and looked at him. “Didn’t think you were s’posed to do that.”

  “I’m not. But I been thinkin’ I came down on you awful hard the other day, when I know you were just trying to do what you thought right. It made me want to get Mr. Tate’s side of the story, and once I did … well, he still won’t be getting mail, but I didn’t figure it would hurt to let him send just the one letter.”

  I couldn’t help but smile—not only for Ramsay’s sake, but for mine. Because Ben was pretty much apologizing for the other day in the garage. “Did he write it yet?”

  “Yeah. Gave it to me a few days ago.” Ben glanced around the room and then fixed me with a warning look. “This is between you and me, Piper Lee. Don’t breathe a word of it to anybody except Ramsay, you understand me?”

  I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “All righty.” He seemed to relax a bit. “Let’s go check on your mama. No crying, though. She don’t need to see that right now.”

  I jumped off his knee and quickly rubbed my face free of any remaining tears. “I’m not.”

  He smiled and stood. “Okay, then.” He took a hold of my hand and we headed down the long hallway and around the corner to room 256.

  Mama sat in bed, wearing a white hospital gown with little pink rosebuds all over it. Her hair hung loose and limp around her shoulders, but she looked relieved to see me. “Hey, there.”

  “Go ahead,” Ben told me. “I’ll go check on Ginger and Miss Claudia.”

  I stepped over to Mama’s side, and she took a look at my face. “It’s not so bad,” she said. “I’m gonna be fine. The baby’s just coming a little sooner than we wanted.”

  I took a shaky breath and remembered what Ben had said about no crying. “I’m sorry I got in trouble and made you come to the school when you shoulda been home resting.”

  She surprised me with a giggle. “You were born with a ton of spunk, Piper Lee. And I can’t believe some of the stunts you pull. But having to come get you at school didn’t make this happen. My incompetent cervix is what’s to blame.”

  I swallowed. “Ben said there’s something wrong with the baby’s lungs.”

  “Nothing really wrong with them, they’re just not quite as developed as they should be yet. But they gave me some medicine that helps speeds things up.”

  “So you think the baby will be okay?”

  Mama sighed. “The doctor thinks so. But it won’t be able to come home with us right away. It will need special care here at the hospital for a while.”

  “For how long?”

  “I’m not sure, honey.”

  I stood quietly, thankful to have a few minutes alone with Mama. Part of me wanted to tell her that Ben had hugged me. But I decided to savor the memory all to myself just a little longer “Are you scared?”

  She squeezed my hand. “I’d be lying if I said no. But I think everything’s gonna be okay, Piper Lee. I honestly do. Now why don’t you pull up a chair, and keep me company a while.”

  So I did. And Ben and Miss Claudia and Ginger came in a few minutes later. Miss Claudia handed me a lemon lime soda and a molasses cookie. And I finally felt like I could eat something without getting sick. And we all sat with Mama and watched television with her for over an hour, until a nurse came in and asked if she was ready to welcome her new little one into the world.

  Ben stayed with her, but the rest of us had to leave. I was afraid we’d get stuck waiting in the same family room again, but Miss Claudia took us to a park across the street from the hospital. I used up my worry on the monkey bars and the swings and the climbing rock, and it made the time pass so much faster than having to sit someplace and fret.

  After a long while Miss Claudia’s cell phone rang, and she talked a bit ‘fore she waved us over. And Ginger and I ran to her, breathless.

  “That was your daddy,” she said, beaming. “Your mama’s out of surgery now and everything went jus’ dandy. In another hour or so you’ll be able to see her.”

  “What about the baby?” Ginger asked.

  “Well, now, your daddy just said, ‘so far so good,’ so I guess we have to wait and see.”

  “What was it?” Ginger asked. “Boy or girl?”

  Miss Claudia put both hands on her cheeks and laughed. “Goodness, child. I was so busy listening I forgot to ask.”

  We walked over to the hospital cafeteria and Ginger and I shared some chicken nuggets and fries. Then we went upstairs to the family waiting room. It seemed like a lot more than any hour, but finally Ben came to find us.

  He stepped into the room with
the funniest look on his face, kind of happy and awe struck and exhausted all at the same time. He spread his hands. “Well,” he said, “everything’s all right for now.”

  “Mama’s okay?” I asked.

  “She’s doin’ fine, but she’ll be in the recovery room a bit longer. But y’all can come meet the newest little Hutching if you want … all three pounds, twelve ounces of her.”

  Her!

  “A girl!” Ginger and I both said at the same exact second.

  Ben and Miss Claudia laughed. “Yeah,” Ben said. “It’s a girl, all right.”

  A girl. Three girls!

  And I looked at Ginger and just shook my head as the wave of dismay passed over. But it didn’t last more than the blink of an eye, because as long as Mama was okay, maybe it didn’t matter so much.

  Miss Claudia walked over to Ben and wrapped her arms around him and said, “Congratulations to you Ben Hutchings. You’re a daddy again.”

  And Ben’s face flushed a shade brighter, and he looked as pleased as a honeybee on a blossom. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now you three go on, and I’ll wait right here. Family first.”

  I’m not sure why, but as Ben led us down the hall, my heart started to pound, and I started to sweat just the same as when Angela got up to read her book report. Only now, the whole thing with Angela didn’t seem like any big deal at all. We pushed through double doors that said “neonatal intensive care” and a nurse made us scrub our hands and helped us put on hospital gowns over our clothes. She even tied soft, paper masks over our mouths. “Preemies are especially susceptible to germs,” she said. “So we have to be extra careful.”

  Ginger made big eyes at me above her mask, and I knew she was probably feeling about as scared and excited as me. Then the nurse led us through another set of doors into a bright, warm room, full of plastic incubators, white bedding and steel equipment that beeped and hummed and made all manner of soft noises.

  Ben stepped over to one of the incubators with a little label that said, Hutchings female, and Ginger and I edged up on either side of him. And I caught my breath, because inside that plastic box was the tiniest human being I’d ever seen.