Miss Julia Delivers the Goods

by Ann B. Ross

  “Well, he can keep on going,” she said. “Besides, he came to get you.” She turned to me, her mouth trembling. “I’m sorry I messed up your plans. I know you’re doing something for Mr. Sam.”

  “Hazel Marie,” I said, pushing open the door and walking in, “will you please stop being sorry for everything? We have to get you taken care of and nothing’s more important than that, including doing something for Sam with Mr. Pickens. They can both take a backseat for a few days. Now, I want you to sit right down and rest. Lillian and I have some moving to do. I’m going to put you in our room, and Sam and I will move upstairs.”

  “Oh, Miss Julia, you don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I do. The doctor said no going up and down the stairs. Come on, Lillian, let’s get started.”

  It took the rest of the afternoon to get the job done, but before we started, I’d called Ralph Peterson to come get my car and tell me in dollars and cents what the damage would be. I urged him to get a move on before everybody in town saw what I’d done and never let me forget it.

  Lillian and I changed the sheets on my and Sam’s bed first and put Hazel Marie in it. Then we moved a few necessary clothes from one closet to another and exchanged toiletries in the bathrooms, going up and down the stairs a hundred times. I declare, though, like Lillian had said, Hazel Marie’s room was covered in clothes she’d had out getting ready to pack. We got those hung back up and made a little room for what Sam and I would need for the next several days.

  Hazel Marie watched the comings and goings from our bed, but I had to keep telling her to keep her head flat.

  “But I feel all right,” she said. “And nothing’s happening now.”

  “Well, I’m glad,” I replied, “but that’s not the point. Dr. Hargrove said flat on your back, and that’s the way I want you.”

  She turned her face away and murmured, “Maybe it would be better all around if . . .”

  “No,” I said firmly, “we’re not going to think that way. Why, Hazel Marie, one or both of those babies could be president one day. Or they could discover the cure for a terrible disease, or one could be a famous musician or even a preacher.” I stopped and considered for a minute, wondering what would impress her more than that. “Or just be fine and decent men or women, or man and woman, who would be a blessing to you in your old age.” I leaned over and straightened her covers. “There’s a purpose for every soul that comes into this world, and what you have to do is follow the doctor’s orders. Then if you lose them, you can rest assured that that’s the way it’s supposed to be. And if you don’t, then that’s the way it’s supposed to be, too. Just be Presbyterian enough, Hazel Marie, to trust that whatever happens is what is supposed to happen. What will be, will be, you know.”

  She smiled a little. “I think that’s a song.”

  The back door slammed and Lloyd came running in, sweaty from his tennis exertions and highly agitated. “Miss Julia! Your car’s all messed up!”

  “Oh, my word,” I said, meeting him in the hall. “Ralph Peterson was supposed to have that car in the shop. I’m calling him again.”

  “But what happened?” Lloyd asked. “Somebody wrecked it?”

  Lillian walked out just then. “Wadn’t no somebody,” she said. “A Dipsy Dumpster did it.”

  So then I had to explain, but when I got to the point of telling him that his mother had been put back to bed, he lost interest in car wreckage. “Just a little relapse,” I assured him, as he headed in to see her.

  “Oh, Lillian,” I murmured, leading the way to the kitchen, “I don’t know how long we can keep this up. Something’s got to give, sooner or later.”

  “Some lemonade be good right about now,” she said. “Let me make us a pitcher.”

  “Gladly,” I said, collapsing in a chair at the table. “Hazel Marie looks all right, doesn’t she? I mean, she’d let us know if something happens, won’t she?”

  “Yessum,” she said, getting out the sugar and the lemons. “Like I tole you, she don’t want to lose that baby. Them babies, I mean. Law, Miss Julia, can you believe us having two of ’em? Think how many years this house have no chil’ren at all, an’ now it gonna be crawlin’ with ’em.”

  So I sat there and thought about the empty years. Then I thought about what it would be like with two more besides Lloyd. If they turned out to be as satisfactory as he was, I would have no complaints. None at all, regardless of what the town thought.

  Lillian put a glass of lemonade in front of me, then left to take two more glasses in to Hazel Marie and Lloyd. I’d just picked up my glass when I heard Sam’s footsteps outside.

  “Julia,” he said, coming in the door, “what happened to your car?”

  “Oh, nothing much, Sam,” I said, getting up to pour lemonade for him. “It’s just a little ding, nothing to get upset about.”

  Sam’s eyebrows went up. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

  “Nobody got hurt but the car and a Dumpster. But I’ve already called Ralph to come get it. So let’s not worry about it.”

  I had had enough of the inordinate interest everybody was taking in the condition of my car. When something goes wrong, the polite thing to do is to pretend you don’t notice and carry on with general conversation. I just hated having attention drawn to any little mishap that could’ve happened to anybody, but if Ralph Peterson didn’t come on soon, half the town would stop by to tell me my car was wrecked. As if I didn’t know it.

  “One good thing,” I told Sam that evening after I’d related, out of Lloyd’s hearing, the highlights of the afternoon, “she won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. But can you believe twins? It’s more than I can take in and just complicates matters that much more.”

  We were sitting in our accustomed place on the sofa in the living room. Lillian had gone home and Lloyd was in the back bedroom, formerly my and Sam’s room, with his mother. Although I’d suggested to Hazel Marie that she begin preparing the boy for all the changes we were expecting, she was still reluctant to reveal her condition.

  “Not yet, Miss Julia,” she’d said. “I could still lose these babies, and there’s no need to worry him beforehand in case I do. It may just be that he’ll never have to know.” Far be it from me to put any kind of burden on the boy or on her, either, so I could do nothing but assume that she knew best.

  “What’d you tell Lloyd?” Sam asked, bringing me back to the here and now. “I mean, about why his mother’s back in bed.”

  “We just said she’d had a relapse of the same old flu and the doctor ordered bed rest. He seemed to accept it well enough, though I can tell he’s concerned.” I leaned my head on Sam’s shoulder. “Oh, Sam, what’re we going to do with two babies?”

  “Have a houseful, I expect.” He patted my back. “Have you given up on Pickens?”

  “Not really, except he’s certainly being uncooperative. I think, if he were to come in here with a huge bouquet of flowers and tell her he couldn’t live without her, she’d fall all over herself marrying him. But I can hardly get him in the door. Oh, he’ll come for dinner, but after the way she gave him the cold shoulder the other night, I’m not even sure of that anymore.” I sat up to look at him. “It’s like he’s lost all get up and go, Sam. Why, I can remember when he first met her, nothing could stop him. He courted her like few women have been courted, but now it seems he doesn’t want to even try. Why would he act in such a way?”

  “Probably because it means too much to him. Doesn’t want to risk putting it all on the line.”

  “It would give me hope if that’s true. But, of course, if he thinks that way, it’s totally ridiculous. Every woman wants to be courted. Wants to be wanted, and as long as he makes himself scarce, the longer Hazel Marie is convinced he doesn’t care. And the longer she has to pretend that she doesn’t, either.”

  Sam covered a yawn with his hand. “Well, whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. But for Hazel Marie’s sake, I hope something works out. Even with our help, be
ing the unmarried mother of three children will be a heavy burden to bear.”

  “Well, how do you feel about it, Sam? I mean, having a houseful of illegitimate children?”

  “Oh, honey, I don’t care. A child is a child, regardless of what its parents have done. Besides, it’ll liven things up around here to have a few babies around.”

  I took his hand in both of mine, thinking again how fortunate I was to have him. Then switching subjects, I said, “How did Mr. Pickens do this afternoon? Did he see anybody?”

  Sam laughed. “He got lost down in the Bear Valley area. Came in cussin’ and carryin’ on about no road signs and poor directions. He was looking for Ilona Weaver, and I was able to get him only so far. He had to stop and ask several times and kept ending up where he’d started from. He needs you with him, Julia. Think you’ll be able to go tomorrow?”

  “If Hazel Marie doesn’t take a turn for the worse, yes, I think so. In fact, I’ll take Lloyd’s cell phone, in case there’s trouble here.”

  “Pickens has a cell phone.”

  “Even better, then. I’ll leave his number with Lillian, so if Hazel Marie needs me, he can take the call. That way, he’ll get the full impact of Lillian’s hysterics which, believe me, will get him moving if anything can.”

  Sam and I went together to wish Hazel Marie a good night and to reassure ourselves that all was well with her. It was all she could do to look at Sam, she was still so embarrassed to have him know what she’d been up to. But Sam was kindness itself, the most nonjudgmental man I’ve ever known. I left the little silver dining room bell by her bed in case she needed me in the night, then told Lloyd it was time for him to be upstairs in his bed.

  It felt strange walking up the stairs with Sam to the room I’d slept in for over forty years with another man. I’d given it to Hazel Marie so I’d never have to sleep in it again, yet here I was, walking right into the pink and gold wonderland that she and her decorator had turned it into. There was nothing left in it of my first husband, possibly because Hazel Marie hadn’t wanted any reminders of him, either. I wondered how well I would sleep, because even without any tangible items, the room itself might prove to be enough to give me a nightmare or two. Yet by the time I crawled in beside Sam and scrooched up close to him, any thought of Wesley Lloyd Springer had gone completely out of my head.

  Chapter 26

  So the next morning I took off again with Mr. Pickens on our search for leads in the case of stolen records and interviews. Before leaving the house, though, I’d gone to see how Hazel Marie had fared during the night. I walked in just as she was coming out of the bathroom, heading back to the bed.

  “How’re you feeling this morning?” I asked, looking carefully for any signs of distress.

  “I feel really good,” she said, as she sat on the side of the bed. “In fact, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Don’t you think I could sit in a chair for a while today?”

  “No, I don’t. Hazel Marie, you have to do what Dr. Hargrove said and stay in bed. But if you don’t have any problems today, I’ll call him tomorrow and see if you can get up for short stretches. How will that do?”

  “All right, I guess,” she said, lying back on the pillow with a sigh. “But I am so tired of being in bed all day with nothing to do. It gets lonesome with Lloyd out most of the day and you gone and Lillian busy. I know I shouldn’t complain, but I just get so sad when I’m by myself.”

  I was moved by pity, for Hazel Marie was not one who could entertain herself with her own thoughts. Especially not now, when her own thoughts were undoubtedly filled with recriminations and regrets. “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “Mr. Pickens can go on his own this afternoon, and I’ll stay home with you. But I have to go this morning since he can’t find the place by himself.” I laughed. “Sam said he was lost all yesterday, going around and around in circles, and came back cussing and carrying on. Serves him right, don’t you think?”

  That got a smile from her, but not much else. So I went on, “Now, Hazel Marie, I’ll ask Lillian to come sit with you a while. You two can make a list of what we’re going to need for these babies. Oh, and you’d better begin to think of some names, too.”

  Well, that wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had for providing some distraction, because the thought of the babies’ imminent arrival made her face cloud up again.

  “I know I should,” she said, wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands like a little girl. “I feel like I’m caught in something I can’t get out of. And,” she went on, her voice catching in her throat, “I guess I am and everybody’ll know it. Miss Julia, I’m already beginning to show. When I got up a few minutes ago, it was like they’d grown overnight.”

  “Oh, my word, and we haven’t even thought of maternity clothes. I guess I’d better start a list, too.”

  “I don’t care about maternity clothes,” she said, turning her face away. “All I want to do is crawl in a closet and hide.”

  “Now, Hazel Marie, you mustn’t think like that. Let’s just take one day at a time and not look too far ahead. We’re going to work something out if every last one of us has to move to Arizona or somewhere.” I switched off the lamp by her bed, then walked over to open the blinds for a little natural light. “I’m going to send Lillian in. You get her talking and you won’t have time for worrying. Is there anything I can get you while I’m out?”

  “Well,” she began hesitantly, “I know it’s not good manners, but would you mind getting me a pack of gum? I’d love some, and it’s not like anybody’ll see me chewing it.”

  “Why, of course,” I assured her, although gum chewing wasn’t something I could ordinarily approve. “Any special kind?”

  “Oh, Juicy Fruit’s my favorite. I can almost taste it now.”

  Well, that craving was easy enough to satisfy, but I wondered what else her changing appetite would be demanding before it was all over.

  As I settled myself in the passenger seat of Mr. Pickens’s car, it occurred to me that I was experiencing a certain lifting of the spirits. With the threat of Hazel Marie’s losing those babies, the burden of worry about her taking off on her own had been lifted without my realizing it. Of course, worry about how we’d handle two babies had taken its place, but it was a relief to realize that Hazel Marie hadn’t said one word about leaving since their advent had been announced.

  I smiled to myself but aimed at Mr. Pickens as he pulled away from the curb. “I apologize for letting you down yesterday,” I said pleasantly, determined not to start off in a dead silence and stay that way. “We had a semi-emergency and I didn’t have time to call you.”

  I waited for him to ask who’d had an emergency, but instead he said, “I heard about your car. You have to watch those Dumpsters, they’ll jump out at you when you’re not looking.”

  That was a topic I certainly didn’t want to discuss, so I turned it back on him. “And I hear you had trouble finding the Weaver house.”

  He nodded, keeping his attention on the street. “I hope you know where it is.”

  “It’s fairly close to the Bear Valley Baptist Church,” I said, thinking I think to myself.

  “That’s what Sam said, but I drove all over that valley and never saw a Baptist church anywhere.”

  “Well, believe me, there’s more than one. Whenever you have two Baptists, you’re likely to have two churches. So just go back to the same area you were in yesterday, and we’ll find it.”

  He was content enough to let the conversation lapse as the car hummed along, but of course I was not. “I don’t know Ilona Weaver,” I said. “Is she expecting us?”

  He twisted his mouth. “She was. At least she was yesterday. Sam tried to get her this morning to let her know we were coming. Nobody answered.”

  “Well,” I said, “I guess that means we may miss her even if we find the house. Which I fully intend to do, I assure you.” Then, thinking that an opportunity had just presented itself, I went on. “Of course, she’s expe
cting only one. Wonder how she’ll take it when two show up? A lot of people expect just one, then they’re amazed when they get two—doubling their pleasure, you might say.”

  Mr. Pickens cocked an eye at me. “What’re you talking about?”

  “Oh, nothing,” I said, looking out the window at the apple orchard we were passing. “Just thinking out loud. But, Mr. Pickens, don’t let me forget. When we’re on our way back, I’d like to stop somewhere and pick up some Juicy Fruit.”

  He laughed. “You taken up chewing gum these days?”

  “It’s not for me. It’s for Hazel Marie, who’s had to be put back to bed. A relapse of some kind, the doctor said. And all she’s asked for is gum, which to my mind is little enough to do for her.”

  I glanced over and saw the frown deepen on his face, but it took the longest for him to respond. Finally, as if reluctant to show any interest, he asked, “She’s still sick?”

  “She’s not exactly sick. She’s just having a few problems with a normally normal condition.”

  Let him turn that over, I thought, and if he doesn’t get it, then he’s thicker than I suspect. The long silence proved that he was. Unable to stand it any longer, I said, “Mr. Pickens, it would do her a world of good if you’d show a little interest in her condition. It wouldn’t hurt you to be a little less standoffish.”

  “Miss Julia,” he said with an long sigh, “she’s made it clear that she doesn’t want me around. So, in spite of your efforts—as well meant as they might be—I am not going to push in where I’m not wanted.”

  Well, that engendered a long silence from me. Not knowing how to respond, I kept my eyes on the country road we were now traveling. Then seeing a vine-covered sign for Ebenezer Baptist Church, I said, “Turn left here.” Then I said, “Well, I don’t see why not.”

  He made the turn, straightened the car, then gave me a questioning glance. “Why not what?”