Lily of the Springs

by Carole Bellacera

  And I, on the other hand, missed Jake so much, it felt like a wild raccoon had made itself at home inside me and was gnawing away on my heart. I’d thought it was awful the first time Jake had left me, back when he went off to boot camp. But at least then I’d had my family close by. This time, within hours of seeing him off at the train station, it had hit me that I was all alone here in this big, unfamiliar state of Texas—just me and a helpless little baby. But at least there was Betty─a lifesaver.

  A wail came from the bedroom. Lying on the couch in the living room, I glanced up at the atom clock on the wall. Right on time. Debby Ann might have her days and nights mixed up, but she sure knew when it was feeding time—every three hours on the dot. Not every four hours, like the nurses at the hospital told me it would be. I sighed and swung my legs over the side of the couch. My head swam dizzily as I sat up.

  That’s what you get for laying around all the time and not eating, I told myself. I sat there a moment, rubbing my aching forehead with my fingertips as the cries from the bedroom grew louder.

  When Debby Ann had first arrived home from the hospital, I’d really tried to follow the nurses’ advice to feed her every four hours. That meant listening to the baby’s steady fussing for an hour before each feeding time. Finally, in desperation I’d turned to Betty for advice.

  “For God’s sake, feed the kid every three hours, Lily,” she’d advised. “The world isn’t going to stop turning because you’re feeding her on her schedule rather than the hospital’s.”

  So, that’s what I’d been doing. Every three hours, day in and day out, around the clock. Only trouble was, Debby Ann would feed greedily for the first five minutes, and then fall asleep with the nipple still in her mouth. Which was fine, really, in day-time. But at night—every night, it seemed—as soon as I put the baby down into her bassinet, she’d wake up and start crying. Not just crying, but shrieking as if some evil person was poking her with a hot stick. The first time it had happened, I’d checked to make sure her diaper pin hadn’t opened; I’d been that sure something was causing the baby unimaginable pain. But when it kept happening, night after night, I’d called the hospital in a panic, only to be told that the baby was suffering from something called “colic,” and there was nothing to do but “let her grow out of it.”

  But I was worried all the same. It didn’t seem like Debby Ann was getting enough to eat. Well, how could she? She always fell asleep before she’d taken in a couple of ounces. But even though she seemed hungry, when she was in the middle of one of these colic attacks, she wouldn’t feed. At first, she’d act like she wanted the bottle; she’d start sucking away like she was starving. But a minute later, she’d rear her head back, scrunch up those little dark eyes and let out a banshee wail. And I’d be up, walking the floor with her for the rest of the night.

  The shrieks coming from the bedroom had grown more piercing. I stood up on wobbly legs, and began to make my way to the kitchen. “Just hold on, baby doll,” I called out. “I got to heat up your formula.”

  I took out a baby bottle from the Norge, noticing with dismay there were only two bottles left. Time to mix up more formula and sterilize it. One more thing to do.

  I grabbed a saucepan from the cabinet, filled it with water and put the bottle into it. Then I placed it on the coiled burner and turned the electric stove on medium.

  Lord, I’d had no idea how much work it was to have a baby in the house. I’d never been so dog-tired in my life. Then again, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a good night’s sleep. God knows Jake hadn’t been any help in that department before he left. He’d made it clear that taking care of the baby was my job.

  Three hard raps came at the apartment door. “Knock, knock!”

  Debby Ann’s cries were beginning to reach the screeching level. I felt like screaming, too, as I headed for the door. I wondered if it would help.

  I opened the door to let Betty in. Watching “Love of Life” together had become a ritual even before Debby Ann was born, first in Betty’s apartment on her nice RCA, lately on the second-hand Airline Jake had bought at a yard sale. But today, I knew right away something was different about this visit. Betty breezed into the apartment dressed in a coral summer dress with a white Peter Pan collar cinched at the waist with a white patent leather belt and matching heels. On her head, she wore a jaunty white wide-brimmed hat.

  “You go jump in the shower,” she said before I had a chance to open my mouth. “I’m taking Debby Ann over to my place. You know Merline, don’t you? That teenager down in 2-B? She’s agreed to sit for us.”

  Betty was already on her way down the hall toward the bedroom, her shapely behind swaying, ala Marilyn, beneath the snug cut of her linen dress.

  “But…” I sputtered. “It’s feeding time. And…” I followed Betty into the bedroom. “Why do you have a sitter? Where are we going?”

  Betty smiled down at the wailing baby. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she cooed, scooping Debby Ann up in her arms and cradling her. “Yes, that’s it. Auntie Betty has you now.”

  Amazingly, the baby had stopped crying. I shook my head. If that didn’t just beat all. Betty grinned over at me. “Methinks this one is on her way to being spoiled already.”

  “Or maybe she just doesn’t like me,” I said bitterly.

  Betty laughed. “Oh, don’t be silly.” Her gaze sharpened. “What are you doing just standing there? Get in the shower. It’s a beautiful summer-like day outside, and I’ll be damned if you’re going to spend one more afternoon in this tomb of an apartment feeling sorry for yourself. And don’t you worry about this little one. I’ll feed her while you’re getting ready.”

  “Ready for what?” I cried out, exasperated.

  Betty rocked the baby in her arms and smiled from across the room. “You need cheering up, don’t you? Well, I’ve got the perfect idea. We’re going to Texarkana, and we’re going to have a late lunch at The Savoy, and then, honey, we’re going to shop until we drop.”

  ***

  I stretched out my legs and gazed up into a sapphire sky meringued with white marshmallow clouds towering into the heavens. That one there looked like the mast of an Old World sailing ship like the one Christopher Columbus sailed to America, I mused. But even as this thought meandered through my mind, it changed, and now it looked like a giant Mickey Mouse.

  A soft, cooing sound drew my glance down to the patchwork quilt on which I sprawled—Mother’s handiwork--and I smiled and turned on my side to gaze down at Debby Ann. The baby wore only a diaper and a thin summer T-shirt that snapped down the front. It was still spring in Texas, but hotter than blazes, even here under the shade of a Spanish Oak.

  Debby Ann cooed again, then blew a spit bubble, her tiny feet, clad in pink knit booties, pumping the air like an Olympic bicyclist. Her pebble-brown eyes gazed up at the sky with rapt attention as if she were studying it for a pop quiz that would be given to her at any minute. I grinned. She sure was a pretty little thing—and for once, she seemed to be content. I brushed a tender hand over her soft down of golden hair, and then frowned. She still wasn’t eating good, though. And she didn’t have that plump, healthy look that Betty’s baby boy had.

  I glanced over at the playpen where Betty had left Davy a few minutes ago while she went in to make lunch. He was standing up, holding onto a slat with one chubby hand and gumming on a Gerber’s biscuit with the other. Every couple of minutes, though, he’d stop long enough to babble a few words of baby talk and then go back to his biscuit. I hoped Betty would remember to bring a wet washcloth with her when she came back out. He was a sight for sore eyes!

  Turning on my stomach, I heard paper crackling beneath my shorts, reminding me of the two letters that had come in the mail yesterday. I’d brought them outside with the latest issue of Radio Mirror, intending to read them again, even though I’d already read Jake’s so many times, the cheap, Army-issue paper was smudged and worn.

  I smiled, thinking about the romantic things
he’d written—well, romantic for him. Poor guy. He was really missing me. Korea was a hell-hole, he’d written. It was cold and rainy and muddy. The food was awful and—he was lonely. He couldn’t wait to come home to me and his little girl. That was pretty much all he said, but for Jake, that was more romantic than I’d ever expected.

  The other letter I’d received yesterday had been from Inis, and it had contained a bombshell. Meg had up and joined the WACs. Didn’t that just beat all? According to Inis, Meg hadn’t told a soul what she was up to; one Monday morning last month, she’d got up, packed a bag and hitch-hiked into Russell Springs where she’d caught the morning Greyhound to Campbellsville. These details, the family had only found out about a week later when her letter arrived from Maryland.

  Good for her, I thought with a wry smile. I never would’ve thought she’d have the gumption. But what on earth would Jake think about it? According to him, any woman who joined the military was nothing but a slut and a whore.

  “Oh, please, no! Don’t move. I don’t need a bit of help!”

  I looked up to see a barefoot Betty picking her way across the grass, balancing a tray of two icy-cold bottles of Coke, two sandwiches and a plate of my oatmeal raisin cookies. She looked pretty as a picture in blue short-shorts and a white peasant blouse that revealed perfectly-molded shoulders tanned golden from days of lying out in the sun.

  I scurried up from the quilt to grab the two bottles of Coke to help lighten her load.

  “Hope you like grilled cheese,” Betty said, placing the tray on the quilt. “You’d better. It was hotter than Hades in that kitchen.” She settled down on the quilt next to me.

  “Yum! Thank you.” I took a sandwich from the tray and began to nibble on it. “Well…this isn’t exactly how I imagined my first Mother’s Day to be, but I suppose it’s not too bad. It’s a beautiful day…hot, of course, but look how pretty the sky is. And I have Debby Ann and…” I blushed, casting my eyes down to a bright yellow patch of quilt. “…you,” I added, still embarrassed to look at my friend. “Thank the good Lord I have you.”

  “Hey,” Betty reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. “I’m glad I have you, too, hon.” She glanced up at the clouds. “Don’t have a conniption fit or anything, but while I was fixing lunch, I heard on the radio they’ve issued a tornado watch for parts of north-central Texas.”

  I felt that familiar gut spasm I always experienced at the mention of a twister, but I tried with all my might to hide the reaction from Betty. “But not for here, right?” I asked, forcing an unconcerned lightness into my voice.

  Betty shook her head. “No. Just the Waco area.”

  I felt a little better. “Waco? But that’s on the river. Indian legend says that twisters don’t strike close to rivers. That’s what the landlord told me, and he’s lived here all his life.”

  Betty lifted a slim shoulder in a shrug. “I’m just telling you what I heard on the radio.” She took a long draw from her Coke bottle, and then grinned. “I heard something else while I was fixing lunch. How would you like to do something special tonight? We can call it a Mother’s Day present.”

  “What?”

  “Well, there’s this new honky-tonk opening up on the Arkansas side of Texarkana tonight. Let’s see if we can get Merline to baby-sit, and you and I will go have a little fun.”

  I stared at my friend. “You mean a bar? And it’s open on Sunday night?”

  “On the hush-hush,” Betty said. “The owner is a friend of a friend, and tonight’s opening is by special invitation only. And you and I are invited.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Betty.” At my side, Debby Ann screwed up her face and began to fuss, her bootied feet cycling the air. I placed my hand on her belly and began to pat her. “Jake wouldn’t like it.”

  Betty frowned. “Jake doesn’t have to know about it. Come on, Lily! We’ve been cooped up in this place for weeks. Don’t we deserve a little fun? For God’s sake, are we supposed to just shrivel up and die because we’re married and have babies? We’re not over the hill; we’re in our twenties!”

  “I’m still nineteen,” I said.

  Betty scowled. “Bitch.” Then she grinned and gave me an affectionate shove on the shoulder. “You make me feel like an old lady at 23! But seriously, Lil, what’s wrong with us going out and having a couple of drinks and maybe doing a little dancing?”

  Debby Ann began to fuss in earnest now. I sighed and picked her up, snuggling her against my shoulder. I peered down the stretch of lawn that separated the two apartment buildings. Someone’s laundry hung limply on a clothesline that paralleled the side of one building. In this heat, it had probably been dry ten minutes after it had been hung out.

  “Please, Lily.” Betty’s blue eyes implored me. “If I don’t get out for a little while, I swear, I’m going to just die! And you know I can’t go alone.”

  “Well…” It would be nice to dress up and go out.

  “Pretty please, Lily? We don’t have to stay long. Just for a little while.”

  I sighed and gave Debby Ann’s back a rub. “I reckon we could go out for an hour or so. But…” I stared at Betty. “Lord, Betty! What do I wear? My nice dresses are too tight for me now! And I thought it would take me no time at all to get back to the weight I was before I got pregnant.”

  Betty rolled her eyes. “Dream on, sister.” She scrambled up from the quilt. “But don’t you worry. I have a dress that’s too tight on me—thanks very much to Master David over there in that playpen. I’m betting it will look perfect on you. Let’s go inside and see if Merline can sit for us. If she can’t, I swear, I’m going have one of your famous conniption fits.”

  Luckily for Betty, Merline was available. And although I was happy about that, I couldn’t help but wonder what my friend would look like having a conniption fit.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Oh, Lord, Betty! Here comes another bus. Surely they’ll be in this one!” I practically jumped up and down, and probably would have if I hadn’t had a squirming, unhappy baby in my arms.

  Beside me, Betty grinned and crossed her fingers. “Let’s hope so. I don’t know about you, hon, but I’m horny as hell.”

  My cheeks warmed at Betty’s off-color remark. “Oh, you!” I said. “Is that all you think about?”

  Betty snickered. “What else is there?”

  I shook my head and smiled. Lord, Betty said the most outrageous things! True, though…she only said out loud the things I’d been thinking. I hadn’t been able to sleep a wink last night; all I could do was think about Jake’s arrival, and how my body was yearning for him.

  Over Debby Ann’s fuzzy blond head, I watched the green Army bus lumber to a stop in front of the Post Ops building. It was the third one we’d seen on this stifling August morning at the Red River Arsenal, spilling out dozens of uniformed soldiers arriving home from Korea.

  Two weeks ago, Betty had received a telegram from Eddie announcing that the war was over, and all the troops would be coming home. Since the moment she’d burst into my apartment, telegram in hand, I’d been counting down the hours until this moment.

  Through the windows of the bus, I saw soldiers standing up and grabbing their gear from the overhead racks, but I couldn’t make out any faces. Jake and Eddie better be on this one. If I had to wait for another bus, my heart would give out. I just knew it.

  The door of the bus opened and the soldiers, clad in their khaki uniforms, began to file out, duffle bags in hand. I watched, my heart in my throat.

  In the stroller at Betty’s feet, Davy suddenly let out an ear-piercing squeal—a new trick he’d learned in the past few days, having discovered how much fun it was to see his mother wince every time he did it. Debby Ann, on the other hand, had been fussing all morning, as if she knew something in her world was about to change. Every time I tried to put her in her carriage, she’d have a hissy-fit. The only place she wanted to be was in Mommy’s arms.

  A tall, handsome blond soldier appeared in the doorwa
y of the bus. Sun glinted off the double silver bars on his Garrison cap as he climbed down the steps.

  Betty caught her breath. “Ding dong damn,” she said softly. “He looks good enough to eat.”

  Shrieking his name, she flew across the lawn toward him. My heart bumped. Jake, you better be on this blame bus. Debby Ann, as if feeling my tension, squirmed and let out a peevish whimper.

  “Shhhh.” I rocked back and forth on my heels, patting the baby’s back. “Be good now, sweetie. Your daddy will be here soon.”

  I hoped. Over by the bus, Betty was locked in a passionate embrace with Eddie. She’d knocked off his cap and had her long, slim fingers laced in his blond locks and they were kissing the daylights out of each other.

  I looked back at the soldiers still piling off the bus. It was almost empty. Only three dark forms moved down the aisle toward the door. Jake had to be one of them.

  My heart caught in my throat as a horrible thought occurred to me. What if Jake had become a casualty in the last hours of the war? That happened sometimes. The boys fighting on the battlefields were often the last to know the war was over. And with all the red tape the Army had to put up with, wasn’t it possible the bad news hadn’t reached me yet? Could the fates be so cruel?

  I swallowed hard, clutching Debby Ann so tightly that she let out a frustrated cry. And then, there he was! I drew in a sharp breath. Looking trim and handsome in his Army khakis, Jake stepped down from the bus and looked around.

  Oh, Lord, he’s grown a moustache. And darned if he doesn’t look like a young Clark Gable.

  My limbs felt paralyzed. I could only stand there, holding onto Debby Ann, and drink him in. My man. He was my man. My heart swelled with pride. He was a hero, and he was home.

  His eyes swept over me and moved on without recognition. It was the new clothes and hairdo, I knew. When we’d found out our husbands were coming home, Betty had made appointments for us at “Clip & Curl” on Main Street, where we’d both got shampooed and styled in the latest starlet “dos”—Betty chose the sophisticated “bubble” style of Sophia Loren while I, not so adventurous, went with more of a Doris Day “down home” style, short with a little flip in the back. The new hairstyles had inspired Betty to go through her closet and pull out all her “pre-pregnancy” summer clothes, and give them to me, which, as luck would have it, fit me perfectly.