by Pamela Morsi
“Number four,” the nurse at the desk told him, pointing up the hallway. “Is she all right?” Sonny asked. “Has she had the baby?”
“I think you’re here in plenty of time,” she said. “Her mother is with her.”
“Her mother?”
“Or maybe it’s your mother,” the woman said.
Sonny slowly made his way to the room she indicated. He heard his wife’s groaning and panting before he saw her.
Standing in the doorway, the sight before him was almost unfathomable. Dawn was in the bed, covered with sweat and straining in midcontraction. His mother was right beside her, holding her hand and talking to her softly, gently, encouragingly.
Sierra was sitting on the floor scribbling on pieces of a magazine that she’d torn to bits. When she glanced up and saw him her eyes lit up and she raised her arms.
“Da!” she called out her name for him.
The two women turned to look at him.
“Sonny, you’ve made it!” his wife and mother called out almost simultaneously.
With his crutches, he couldn’t pick up Sierra, so he patted her on the head and then hobbled over to the bedside.
“How are you doing?” he asked Dawn. “Has Mama been taking good care of you?”
“She’s been wonderful,” Dawn admitted, though she couldn’t look her mother-in-law in the eye. “She’s got a cool head in a crisis and she’s very supportive.”
Phrona shrugged off the compliment, unable to meet anyone’s gaze, either.
“Driving a woman to the hospital and holding her hand through a few labor pains is not so much to ask,” his mother said. She was trying to maintain the haughty, superior attitude that had become her typical behavior around Dawn. She couldn’t quite manage it.
“The right help at the right time is very important to give,” Sonny told her. He held the flowers in her direction. “Maybe these should go to you.”
Phrona gave him a frown of disapproval. “Don’t be silly. I’d drive a total stranger to the hospital. And I’d hold her hand until her husband turned up. These baby girls are my grandchildren.”
Sonny nodded.
“They are the Leland legacy going forward into the future,” she said. “That means a lot to me.”
“I know,” he said, quietly.
Phrona glanced at the flowers he carried and tutted in disapproval. “Yellow roses, for heaven’s sake,” she said. “Don’t you know that red is the color that you’re supposed to bring to your wife.”
Sonny chuckled. “That’s an ordinary wife, Mama,” he said. “My Dawn is never ordinary.”
He handed the flowers to her.
“They are beautiful, Sonny,” she told him. Then her brow furrowed and she handed them back. “Here comes another contraction.”
Their second beautiful, healthy daughter was born less than an hour later. The delivery was not as difficult as Sonny remembered from the last time. It helped to have both his parents running in and out of the birthing room, keeping Sierra busy and Dawn distracted.
Sonny had wondered about his ability to love a new child as much as he loved Sierra, but when he held his second daughter in his arms, he knew immediately that there was more than enough heart inside him to give each of the girls an abundance.
“She’s beautiful, perfect, wonderful,” Dawn said.
Sonny agreed, but said only, “Thank you.”
They brought in his parents, who held her and cooed and bragged on her as if she were a spectacular new species. Even Sierra wanted to pet the baby, whom she called “puppy.”
When Sonny and Dawn were alone again, he tentatively broached a potentially prickly subject. Having known the baby was to be another girl, they’d already picked out the name Dakota, but Sonny made a suggestion.
“I think it would mean a lot to my mother and her Leland legacy stuff if maybe we could give the baby a family name for the middle name,” he said. “There are lots of Annes and Elizabeths, we wouldn’t have to pick Hester or Prudence. And she could always just use the initial if she doesn’t like it.”
His throat went dry as she hesitated. Maybe it was too much to ask. Dawn had never had much in life that was her own. Now he was asking her to share a part of one special something that was truly, indisputably hers, her child.
His wife gazed down at the baby in her arms and finally nodded. “I guess it would be nice to give her some tie to the family,” she said. “I remember always wanting to feel a part of someone. It might be great to feel connected to hundreds of years of someones. But, if we’re going to do it, let’s not be halfhearted. Dakota Sophrona. It’s a mouthful, but at least it sort of rhymes.”
REAL LIFE
18
The next Wednesday after supper, Del and Spence came over to the Leland house. After a couple of moments of social chitchat Del and Vern shut themselves up in his office to play chess. Spence was there to hang out with me. Mrs. Leland didn’t seem to get that. She thought that he was a guest in the house and that she should be involved in entertaining him.
She suggested we play cards together; I almost rolled my eyes. None of us was that keen on it. And I feared she’d try either canasta or Go Fish. She taught us Nertz, which was very fast and exciting. It was like a grown-up game, without being old-ladylike.
Spence and I were neck and neck for the top score. Mrs. Leland was next with Sierra trailing badly. Surprisingly we were all having fun and it didn’t seem all that weird to have this adult with us. What really knocked me out was when Mom came in and took a seat next to Spence.
She was wearing tight white shorts and a midriff top that didn’t quite hide the top of the heart of roses tattoo.
Spence’s scores immediately went down the tube. He couldn’t keep his eyes on the cards. His points minus his Nertz was coming up with negative numbers hand after hand. Mom smiled at him, as if she approved of his distraction. That just made it worse.
Mom watched us play for a while then, surprisingly, Mrs. Leland gave her a deck of cards and she joined in. Mom was good at the game and within a few minutes we were all laughing and enjoying ourselves.
Spence relaxed as he got more used to her and then he started playing better. Mom talked to him like she would to us. That pretty much untied his tongue.
We’d been at the game for about a half hour when Vern and Del came out of the study.
“We couldn’t keep our minds on the board,” Del told us. “It sounded like all the action was in here. You are having entirely too much fun for us to ignore.”
They sat down, too, and Mrs. Leland searched through the drawers of the sideboard for more decks. Two more people made for a lot in the dining room and there were huge piles of cards in the center of the table.
I began to have this strange feeling, warm feeling. There was so much laughing, so much camaraderie. Even Mrs. Leland seemed exuberant and happy. It was like some Cosby Show, Eight Is Enough, Seventh Heaven TV moment. All of us together around a table. It felt like what other people thought family might be. It felt like what I’d always wished my family could be. I tried not to look at it too closely, certain it would evaporate before my eyes. It was just a pleasant moment in time. I didn’t want to get too accustomed to it.
Surprisingly Mom was the first to get two hundred points, especially since she missed out of the first few hands. I came in second. Then Mrs. Leland, Spence, Sierra and Vern. Del came in dead last, but he was really funny about it.
“I thought it was like golf,” he said, pretending to be surprised at losing. “You mean lowest score doesn’t win? Aww rats, I would have played differently.”
Everybody laughed at him and acted like it was all our fault for not explaining the game. It was all silliness, but nice. It made the outcome seem not as important as the fun of playing.
Mrs. Leland served us milk and cookies. The adults got decaf coffee, except for Mom, who fixed herself a cup of tea.
Afterward Sierra and I were helping Vern sort out the card decks. Spence tugged at my a
rm.
I glanced up at him and he made a weird head gesture, like “let’s get out of here.”
He headed toward the kitchen and motioned for me to follow.
“Mrs. Leland, I gotta show Dakota something in my house,” he called out as he was rushing me out the back door.
“What’s going on?”
“You tell me,” he said. “Didn’t you see it?”
“See what?”
“Your mom and my dad walked out on the front porch together.”
“So?”
“So, don’t you want to find out what they’re saying?”
I did want to know. I was suddenly terrified that Del would tell Mom about my breakdown over the report about my dad’s death. Parents always shared that kind of thing. I didn’t want Mom to know about that. That was just one more thing for her to worry about. I didn’t want her to worry about me. She would probably feel guilty at not having told me more. And it would bring up all her own sad feelings about Sonny’s death.
“Don’t let him tell,” I murmured a prayer as we slipped into the Tegges’ back door and ran up to Spence’s room in total darkness.
“If we turn on a light, Dad would obviously notice and might come over and check it out,” Spence said.
That didn’t sound bad to me. But he didn’t want them to move until we could hear what they were saying.
Spence grabbed up the receiver, but stopped me as I opened the door to the balcony.
“Sound waves don’t bend,” he told me. “We’ll have to get to my front yard to get a clear shot.”
He said it as if speaking from experience. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that he’d already spied on me or Sierra or both on that front porch.
We went down the stairs and tiptoed out the back door. We snuck around the far side of the house, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves. With great stealth we made our way across the lawn. Spence went down on his belly behind a clump of rhododendrons. I was right beside him. He eased the dish through the bottom of the leaves and limbs until he had a bead on the glider of the Lelands’ front porch.
He flipped on the switch.
“Got ’em,” he whispered.
He handed me an earphone. The first sound that I heard was my mother’s laugh. It was a full-of-life belly laugh, the kind she got when she’d had one beer too many. I felt momentarily confused. He obviously had not told her about what I’d done. But I didn’t like the two of them getting too chummy. If she started drinking and flirting with Del Tegge, treating him in that way that she always treated guys I would…I would… I didn’t know what I would do. I wanted to race out of the bushes and interrupt them. Somehow I couldn’t bear for Del to think of her like that. To treat her in that familiar way that men treated her.
I needn’t have worried.
“That’s the worst joke I ever heard,” my mom said when she finally got her composure. “Where did you ever hear such a lousy joke?”
“Spence brings them home from day camp,” he said. “He’s my only social contact with the outside world. Consider yourself fortunate that it wasn’t about boogers or flatulence.”
“I’m grateful, believe me, I’m grateful,” Mom said. “I’ve been through those preteen years already. Girls are not as bad, maybe, but definitely gross is the byword of the age.”
“Yeah, it’s my impression,” he told her, “that for acquiring an icky vision of the universe, nothing beats talking with middle schoolers.”
“Who would have thought that you could be funny?” my mom said, sounding genuinely surprised.
“A single dad in Knoxville,” Del answered. “I’d better be funny. It’s the only way I keep from wallowing in self-pity.”
“You don’t seem like the self-pity type to me,” Mom told him.
“Only because it looks so unattractive and it really hurts my job prospects,” he said.
That made her laugh again.
“All parents whine about their lives from time to time,” he explained. “It’s just that if you’re married, you do it with your spouse and nobody knows. If you’re single you have to vent to friends and coworkers. Is that why everybody is suddenly busy the minute I show up at the coffee machine?”
Mom was amused at that, too.
“So, what happened with your marriage?” she asked him.
There was a moment of hesitation. “And you’re very direct, aren’t you?”
“I think that’s the cancer,” she told him. “It provokes some kind of low bullshit, low evasion reaction.”
“I dunno,” Del answered. “You impress me as having been a low bullshit type for a very long time.”
“I think you’ve got me figured out,” she said. “So are you telling or evading?”
“There’s not much to tell,” Del said. “Our marriage was pretty much dead on arrival.”
“You just weren’t right for each other,” Mom said.
“On the contrary, we were perfect for each other,” he said. “We both grew up here in Knoxville. Our parents are friends. We went to the same schools and day camps and church picnics. She was my high school prom date and the only girl I even dated in college. She knew everything about my childhood and I knew everything about hers.”
“That sounds like a good match,” Mom said.
“It sure sounded that way to us and everyone who knew us,” Del said. “We were on our honeymoon when we first realized that when it came down to what we wanted for our future, we didn’t have one thing in common.”
“Oh, wow,” Dawn responded.
“We stayed together for a few years,” he continued. “Trying to reconcile all those irreconcilable differences. I’m not sorry for that. We had Spencer and that is, certainly, the best thing that ever happened to me. But the truth is the day we parted company I think we were both humming the Hallelujah chorus under our breath.”
“No hard feelings?” Mom asked him. “Your ex is married to Dr. Sexy-Accent Moneybags.”
“Oh, you’ve met Wiktor,” he said.
“Yeah, he came by to shake my hand,” she said. “I think handshake is all he does on the charity cases.”
“Right,” Del said.
“So, no hard feelings?” she said.
“No,” Del answered. “She got what she wanted and I…I guess what I wanted just wasn’t her. What about you? Did you have a marriage made in heaven?”
“Pretty much,” Dawn answered. I could almost hear a sigh in her voice. “Then he died and I’ve been in relationship hell ever since.”
“How come?”
“He and I were not at all alike,” she said. “Guys like him never give me the time of day. I don’t know what he saw in me, but against all smart reasoning he loved me. When I lost him, well, I went back to the kind of guys that live my kind of life.”
“Why would you do that?” he asked.
“It was more familiar, I guess. And mostly you get about as much as you give,” she said. “I didn’t have all that much left to give.”
“Or maybe you just wanted to keep it to yourself,” Del said.
She hesitated. “Maybe,” she said.
“At least you shared it with the kids,” he said. “Your girls are great.”
“Thank you,” she said. “They are pretty amazing. I don’t know how that happened. I didn’t have a clue how to raise kids. Not even the bad example of my own parents. I just made it up as I went along.”
“My theory,” Del told her, “is that we never make the same mistakes our parents made. We make different mistakes.”
“Well, my parents made every mistake,” Mom said.
“Then maybe that’s why you got it all right,” he said.
She laughed again, but it wasn’t so much humor as appreciation.
“I guess I’d better round up Spencer and head for home,” Del said. “I’ve really enjoyed talking with you, Dawn. I’d like to do it again sometime.”
Mom hesitated. “I…I don’t know, I… Really with the girls
and the cancer thing and living here with the Lelands I’m not sure I want to…to get involved.”
“I’m not asking for a live-in, Dawn,” he said. “Just some occasional small talk. We’re about the same age. We live on the same street. We both have kids. That’s enough in common for some ordinary chitchat. Some days I’m so starved for adult conversation I start spilling my guts to the telemarketers.”
Mom laughed at that.
“Yeah, you know you must have become a boring guy when those people hang up on you,” he said.
“Okay,” she said. “Sure, we can talk. I’d enjoy that.”
“Me, too,” he said. His voice was low and soft. “Bye.”
We heard the sound of the front door. Peering through the darkness I could see Mom sitting alone on the swing.
Later that night I related our spying adventure to Sierra.
My sister was clawing me for details, but ultimately was disappointed.
“Darn it all!” she said. “I was so hoping Del would kiss her.”
I sat up in bed to peer at her through the darkness of the bedroom.
“Kiss her? Are you crazy?”
“I told you Del is an amazing hottie,” Sierra said. “I know Mom must have such a crush. But he’s so nerdy. He’ll never be able to make a move on her.”
“And he shouldn’t,” I told him. “Del is great, but he’s just not Mom’s type.”
“Mom’s type is whoever she’s interested in,” Sierra said. “Right now, Del is the only game in town. Mom can’t help but be interested. Pursuing him would give her something positive to occupy her time.”
“You’re crazy,” I said. “Your brain has been totally warped from too much daytime TV. Del is completely cool and I’m sure Mom likes him. But it’s not like that. And them getting together would be just way wrong. There is nothing about him that would work for her. And vice versa.”
“You’re still such a kid,” Sierra said, with an accusing dismissal. “Mom and Del need each other. By his own admission, Del spends way too much time alone. And you know Mom. She’s not going to be anywhere long without having some guy on the string.”
“That’s when things are normal,” I said. “They’re not normal now. Mom is sick. She doesn’t need to be chasing after boyfriends, she needs to be getting well.”
