A Mother's Choice
Page 10
A month later, Ruby married Harold in a small but expensive ceremony. Jude told me Harold was a good guy, and I was being too hard on him, so I did my best to be happy at Ruby’s wedding. I even danced with Harold during the reception and laughed when he accidentally stomped on my foot. Twice.
After the wedding, Ruby and Harold honeymooned in Hawaii before moving to Spain, for Harold’s work. Saying good-bye to my best friend was excruciating, and I wondered when I’d see her again.
“Are you going to be okay?” Jude asked as we drove home from the airport.
“I’m going to miss her so much. I can’t imagine not being able to talk to her every day.”
Jude reached across the seat and held my hand. “Harold is wealthy, so maybe Ruby will be able to make frequent phone calls.”
“It’s not the same as talking to her in person.”
“I know, but what you have with Ruby is special. Time and distance aren’t going to change that, Nadine. Just like it didn’t change things between us.”
I relaxed in my husband’s love, grateful for his kindness and understanding. He’d never been jealous of Ruby. Never complained about all the time I spent with her.
Even with Jude’s compassion, however, I’d never felt so alone and empty. I only hoped Ruby wasn’t as miserable as I was.
*
For the first year of marriage, Jude and I lived in a small apartment complex where he handled basic maintenance duties for a reduction in our rent. He continued working for the construction company, and I taught first grade at the local elementary school. Several evenings a week I earned extra money by teaching piano lessons while Jude studied at the library, educating himself on how to run a business. His boss wanted to retire and had begun grooming Jude to take over the construction company.
Every penny we managed to save went into a special account for our future house. Jude wanted a big back yard where he could play baseball with his sons, while I wanted room for the grand piano my parents had given me when they moved back to Texas.
I loved Jude completely, but he couldn’t replace my best friend. I desperately missed Ruby and loved talking to her on the phone when she called. Unfortunately, overseas phone calls were unbelievably expensive back then, even for Harold, so we mostly exchanged weekly letters.
Through our correspondence we shared recipes, housekeeping tips, and gossip from work. Ruby’s life in Spain sounded so glamorous compared to mine. She often attended extravagant parties with Harold and met dignitaries from exotic countries.
“Do you wish you lived in Spain?” Jude asked as I was mopping the kitchen floor one Saturday morning.
“And give up this glamorous life?”
He laughed and took the mop from me. “Go change while I finish the floor. Then, Mrs. Kingsley, I’m taking you on a glamorous date to the grocery store.”
I squealed with exaggeration and kissed him on the cheek. The truth was I loved going to the grocery store with Jude. I loved him, and I loved our life together—even if we spent more time engaged in mundane chores than attending international galas.
Since both Jude and I were working, our savings built up quickly. In December, however, I announced I was going to have to quit my job.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing. He sat at the kitchen table with his adding machine, going over our monthly budget.
I placed a hand on my stomach, hoping he wouldn’t be too upset at my news. This was something we were hoping to delay until after we bought our house and he took over the company, but you couldn’t always plan things like this. Taking a deep breath, I smiled. “I have to quit my job because I don’t have anything to wear. Nothing fits.”
Jude’s face fell. “Oh honey, I know you’ve gained a little weight, and from what I hear, that’s only natural when you get married—”
“You think I’ve gotten fat?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“No, no,” he stammered, a stricken look on his face. “Of course not. You’re perfect just the way you are. I always thought you were too thin, but now …” He stopped talking, realizing he was only making things worse. “Honey, if I could afford to buy you a new wardrobe I would. I want to buy you the world, but—maybe we can rework the numbers.” He hunched over his paperwork, scribbling down figures. Was there anything this man wouldn’t do for me?
“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out.
His head shot up. “What?”
“I know we wanted to wait, but …”
“A baby?” His voice cracked and he squeezed his eyes tight. When he opened them, they were moist. He stood and stepped around the table. Tenderly, he brushed my face with the back of his rough hand. “I’m going to be a father?”
I nodded. “Yes. Are you okay with that?”
He placed his hands on my stomach and smiled. “I’m ecstatic. I can’t believe you’re having a baby.”
Tears streamed down my face. Jude kissed me and pulled me close. “I’m so happy.”
“Me, too.”
What had I done to deserve this much happiness? My thoughts drifted to Ruby. Had she found the same joy with Harold? I hoped so. I really hoped so.
*
A few days later, I received a letter from Ruby who had news of her own. She was pregnant, too! Calling Jude’s name, I raced into the house and found him underneath the kitchen sink, fixing a leaky pipe.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up too quickly and banging his head on the cupboard. He let out a painful yelp and rubbed his fingers across his forehead, smearing grease. “Is everything okay with the baby?”
“Yes.” I squatted beside him and cupped his face with my hand. Ever since I’d announced my pregnancy, he’d treated me as though I were breakable. “Everything’s fine. I’m sorry I startled you. Are you okay?”
He nodded and gestured toward Ruby’s letter in my hand. “Let me guess. Ruby was invited to Buckingham Palace and can’t decide what to wear.”
“No,” I said, swatting his arm with affection. “She’s having a baby, too! Can you believe it? She’s due a week after me!”
He rubbed his arm and laughed. “Are you kidding? This doesn’t surprise me at all. The two of you are so close; it was inevitable you’d be pregnant at the same time.”
I placed a hand over my belly. “Do you think she feels the same way I do? Excited and nervous at the same time?”
Jude reached into his toolbox. “I’m your husband, Nadine. Not your girlfriend. I have no idea what your best friend is feeling.”
“Right, of course.”
He chuckled then scooted back underneath the sink. I was quiet, lost in my own thoughts. Going through something so life changing as having a baby without my best friend saddened me.
“Why don’t you call her,” Jude said, reading my mind.
I scoffed at the idea. “I’d love to, but I know we can’t afford it.”
“It’s a special occasion. You and Ruby are both pregnant. The world is never going to be the same. So call her.”
“Seriously?” I bit the inside of my cheek, tempted by the suggestion but certain Jude didn’t really mean it. “What about the money?”
He sat up, this time minding he didn’t hit his head. “We’ll be okay. I took a part-time job on Saturday night.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
He grinned. “Don’t get too excited. It’s just for one night, but they’re going to pay me fifteen dollars.”
“Fifteen dollars!” I was shocked. Our reduced rent was forty dollars. Fifteen dollars seemed like an absurd amount of money for one night. “What will you be doing? It’s not illegal, is it?”
“Not exactly, but Sister Hildegard wouldn’t approve.”
“Jude Kingsley, what in the world are you talking about?”
He laughed. “I’m going to put on a little show for one of our clients. For his wife, actually.”
I pinned him with my gaze. “What kind of show?”
He tossed his wr
ench in the toolbox and stood to wash his hands in the sink. “It turns out Mrs. Browning is a huge Elvis fan, and when she heard me singing—”
I thrust a hand to my hip. “When did she hear you sing?”
“When I was working on her kitchen addition. I didn’t realize she was in the house, so I was singing along to the radio.”
The idea of another woman listening to my husband sing bothered me, but I supposed that was a hazard in working residential construction. “How did that lead to a job?”
Jude smiled. “I told her all about you and our disastrous high school talent show. She must’ve mentioned it to her husband because next thing I knew, he called and asked if I could do an Elvis impersonation at her birthday party.”
“Are you telling me the truth? It seems a little farfetched.”
He laughed, then feigned insult. “You don’t think I can do it?”
“I know you can do it, I just can’t believe you’re going to get paid for it.”
He shrugged. “Mr. Browning said I was a lot cheaper than hiring four guys to imitate the Beatles.”
“I bet,” I said, laughing.
Jude turned off the faucet and dried his hands on a towel. Then he entwined his fingers with mine and gave a sheepish smile. “Will you play the piano for me? Like old times?”
I smirked. “That sounds like fun—as long as Sister Hildegard doesn’t catch wind of it.”
Jude grinned. “We’re married now, so even if she finds out, there’s nothing she can do to separate us. You’re stuck with me forever.”
“I like the sound of that.”
He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck. Then he reached over my head and grabbed the phone. “Call her. It’s been almost a month since you heard her voice, and I know you miss her. You, me, and the baby … we’re going to be just fine.”
“Okay.” Holding the receiver, I dialed Ruby’s phone number. She answered on the first ring, and we talked as if only a few feet separated us instead of an entire ocean. I told her about some of the kids in my classroom, and she told me about the cooking lessons she was taking from a world-famous chef. We fantasized about our babies and motherhood and all our dreams from childhood.
“Maybe I’ll have a little boy, and you’ll have a girl, and they can grow up and get married,” I suggested, twirling the phone cord around my arm, like I used to do as a teenager.
Ruby liked the idea, and I held on to the possibility that she and Harold would eventually move back to the states. I wasn’t crazy about the man, but if she was happy, so was I.
Chapter 16
On Saturday, Jude and I performed our Elvis tribute at Mrs. Browning’s birthday party. We had a lot of fun and appreciated earning a little extra money, which we planned on using for date night the following weekend.
As luck would have it, however, the car broke down, so all the money from the Browning’s—plus some from our house savings account—went toward paying the mechanic. Instead of going out, we stayed home, cooking chicken bought on sale, rice, and green peas. For dessert, we took dishes of vanilla ice cream onto our small balcony overlooking the parking lot.
Jude swirled his spoon around the rim of his ice cream bowl. “It’s no view from the Space Needle.”
I placed a hand on his thigh. “It’s perfect.”
He gave a skeptical smile and squeezed my hand.
“It is,” I insisted. “I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening … or my life.”
He leaned down and kissed my ever-expanding belly. “That’s why you have the best mother in the world, little one. She always manages to find the good in every situation.”
I ran my hands through Jude’s thick hair. “Your father’s not so bad either.”
He set his ice cream aside and pulled me onto his lap. I laughed and struggled to get away. “Let me go. I’m going to crush you!”
“No, you’re not.” He placed his hand on the back of my head and pulled me close for a kiss.
*
Over the following months, Ruby and I continued exchanging letters, commiserating about weight gain, lethargy, and swollen ankles. We talked about setting up the nursery and putting together the layette.
Then, in the last trimester, Ruby’s letters suddenly stopped. Jude surmised there must be some kind of delay in the overseas post office. “One day soon, you’ll receive a huge package, full of her letters, and you’ll spend the entire day curled up on the couch with a coke, getting caught up on your best friend’s life.”
I ignored the queasiness in my stomach and prayed Jude was right, but when I called Ruby on the phone, nobody answered.
“They probably went on vacation,” Jude insisted, trying to put my mind at ease.
Hoping he was right, I continued writing letters to Ruby, discussing possible baby names and the various houses Jude and I wanted to buy but couldn’t quite afford.
I lived my life and pretended everything was fine, but deep down, I was worried.
*
Throughout the winter and spring of 1967, Jude and I worked hard, lived frugally, and saved every penny we could. We watched the Vietnam demonstrations on television and prayed for our country as the baby inside me grew.
The school year ended in May, and in June, we bought a little white house in the Laurelhurst neighborhood. It was small and needed updating, but Jude and I had never been so excited. Everything was sliding into place for us.
The only dark cloud was my concern for Ruby. I tried calling again, but the overseas operator said her number was no longer in service. Her parents had moved away, and I didn’t know how to contact them. When Jude called the embassy, nobody would give him any information.
In late June, I gave birth to a healthy baby girl we named Angela after one of my favorite students. Jude cried the first time he held his baby girl. “She’s so tiny,” he said, his voice breaking. “I can’t believe she’s ours.”
We brought Angela home, and while I sat on the back porch nursing, Jude planted a cherry blossom tree to commemorate our daughter’s birth. Gazing down at our beautiful baby, I couldn’t stop smiling. Her hair was red, and her eyes were a faint green I hoped would turn a shade darker like her father’s.
As she nursed, her mouth eventually slowed, and her eyes grew heavy until at last she surrendered to sleep. I pulled down my blouse and shifted the baby to my shoulder so she could burp. Without inhibition, she let out a loud belch that frightened the goldfinch bathing in the birdbath just outside the kitchen window.
Jude chuckled and shook his head. “Such a lady.”
“She takes after her father,” I replied.
He threw his head back and laughed so hard Angela jerked. I patted her back, and she immediately fell back asleep.
Coming to my feet, I winced at the pain the simple movement of standing caused. My mother had warned me giving birth was “uncomfortable.” but nobody had prepared me for the pain afterward. Would my breasts ever stop hurting? And when would I be able to sit or use the restroom without pain?
I smiled at Jude, knowing it was all worth it. “I’m going to lay Angela down in the bassinet, then I’ll make us some lunch.”
“I’ll make it as soon as I finish,” he said, placing the tree in the hole and shoveling dirt on top of it.
“The doctor said as long as I didn’t push myself too hard, light household chores were fine. I’m pretty sure making a turkey sandwich isn’t too taxing.”
Jude rested his hands on top of the shovel and met my gaze. “I just want to take care of you, Nadine. Of both of you.”
I smiled. “I know you do, but I’m fine. Honest.”
He nodded reluctantly, and I walked into the house where I heard soft knocking at the front door. Expecting it to be a neighbor or someone from church bringing us a meal, I peeked out the window, shocked to see Ruby.
My heart did a little dance, and I flung open the door. “Oh, Ruby. I’ve been so worried about you.” I wrapped my free arm around her and hu
gged her tight. “What are you doing here, and where have you been? Are you okay?”
She broke away and gave a sad smile. “I’m fine. It’s good to see you. And your baby …” She placed a hand on Angela’s back. “She’s amazing.”
I tilted the baby so Ruby could see her face. My friend blinked several times, and her eyes filled with tears.
“What is it?” I asked.
She shook her head, refusing to meet my gaze. “I’m just so happy to see you and meet little Angela. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve been worried. You stopped writing, and I didn’t know how to find you. We called, but—”
“I’m sorry.” Self-consciously, she placed a hand on her flat belly … a belly as flat as the day she married.
“Oh, Ruby.” My chest filled with sorrow.
“The baby didn’t make it,” she said. “I lost her.”
Tears stung my eyes, and I pulled Angela a little closer. Breathing in the sweet smell of my baby, I shuddered at the thought of life without this miracle. “What happened?”
Ruby shook her head. “I don’t know. She just stopped kicking, and we lost her.”
Chapter 17
The first year of Angela’s life was tough. Motherhood exhausted me—something I hadn’t expected, given the fact I loved kids. But Angela was colicky and often cried for hours on end. There were times when neither Jude nor I could soothe her, regardless of what we did.
When she slept, which was rare, she was so beautiful. She had fat, rosy cheeks and a perfect cupid’s bow across her upper lip. Unfortunately, I didn’t always appreciate her beauty because I was so tired.
My mother flew up from Texas and stayed for almost two months. Full of patience and energy, she walked the hallway with Angela for hours on end. The day my mother left, I sank into a deep depression.
Then in February 1968—right after Peggy Fleming won the Olympic gold medal for women’s figure skating—Harold took a job in Seattle. Best of all, he and Ruby bought the house directly behind ours, causing me to retract every bad thing I’d ever said or thought about the man.