by Ashton Lee
“We see more of Maura Beth than we see of Lindy, actually,” Douglas added.
“It’s a compliment to us that she wanted her wedding out on our deck instead of down in New Orleans like her mother wanted her to do, but it was a ceremony she’ll never forget,” Connie continued. “Saying their vows as the sun went down over the lake was an unforgettable moment.”
Douglas stepped back and framed the colorful spread on the dining room table with his hands. “Now that’s a pretty picture if I do say so myself. We’ve outdone ourselves, Connie.”
“Let it never be said that you and I don’t know how to give parties and make people want to come back for more.”
Douglas was nodding, but his expression turned thoughtful. “I’m still wondering how things will go with Paul and Susan a week from now, though. It could be a tense Thanksgiving if Elise doesn’t handle herself well. We’ve both seen her in action when she insists on getting her way.”
Connie shrugged and waved him off as she rearranged dishes of nuts on the table. It came to her suddenly that she hadn’t distributed them equally, and that was something she could not allow from a presentation standpoint.
“Douglas, we’re just going to have to trust her this time. She’s got to grow up someday, and this is the perfect opportunity to show that she takes full responsibility for her decisions. Everything we do in life has a ripple effect, particularly where friends and relatives are concerned. All those years being an ICU nurse taught me how interrelated we all are. The experience can be joyful, or it can be painful, but we don’t live in a vacuum. Elise has this notion that she can do everything by herself, but there’s a practical limit to that.”
Douglas gave his wife his best, affectionate stare and then took her in his arms and gave her a kiss. “You are such a wise woman, you know that?”
“I married you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, and you did it knowing I was a billboard trial lawyer. I’ve always been grateful to you for overlooking that little item.”
Connie eyed him skeptically. “Now, none of that. You helped lots of people during your practice, and you know it. Don’t you dare paint yourself with such a broad brush. We both earned our retirement through hard work.”
* * *
Connie chimed her spoon on her wineglass to get the attention of the chattering crowd thoroughly enjoying their food and drinks around the lodge’s rustic great room. Everyone who had accepted her invitation had shown up as promised, so there was a full house just itching to offer their congratulations.
“Folks,” she began. It took another chime or two to get everyone’s full attention and the buzzing to die down; then she continued. “Folks, it’s time for us to find out who’s in the oven from our expecting couples. I know you’ve all been waiting patiently for this moment, so let’s not put it off any longer. So, will Maura Beth, Jeremy, and Elise come forward and share their good news with us, please?”
The trio made their way to one end of the buffet table, and Connie said, “Who wants to go first?”
Elise made a half bow and gestured graciously. “Let them. I don’t mind bringing up the rear.”
“Maurie,” Jeremy said. “You do the honors. You’re doing all the work now.”
Maura Beth took a quick breath and surveyed her friends with a smile. How fortunate she was to have found and made a life with them all in this off-the-beaten-path, little Cherico!
“We’re thrilled to announce to all of you that Jeremy and I are going to be the proud parents of a boy.”
The outburst of warm applause and coordinated cries of “Congratulations!” made Maura Beth blush for a moment, but with Jeremy by her side, she shook what seemed like a hundred hands and managed, “Thank you so much!” without a hitch to as many smiling faces.
“Have you decided on a name yet? ” Becca Brachle wanted to know once the din had faded somewhat.
“We’re still working on it,” Maura Beth told her. “But we’re getting close. We made a list the other day, and we’ve narrowed it down to two choices, and both involve our fathers.”
“I think you’re wise to go that way,” Becca said. “Justin and I had both sides of the family lobbying ferociously for their favorite names. Have you been going through that?”
Maura Beth’s sigh was full of frustration. “I certainly have—mostly from my mother. She’s been beating the New Orleans drum since she found out we were pregnant. I would never tell her this to her face, but everything she’s suggested to us is what I’d call a bully name.”
“I think I have an idea what you’re getting at, but, please, give me your version,” Becca said.
“My version is that it’s the kind of stuffy, formal name that causes kids to get bullied during recess at school or on the school bus or just about anywhere else. Either that or the other kids make up a crazy nickname that sticks, and it’s even worse for the child. These days, bullying has become quite an issue, and I don’t want to do anything to contribute to it for my son. Naming a child should take into consideration what daily life will be like for them.”
“Got it,” Becca said, giving her friend a wink. “I think our little Markie will be safe from teasing, though, don’t you?”
“My godson will be just fine, and I can’t wait for our sons to become friends as they grow up,” Maura Beth added.
Then Connie chimed her spoon again. “Now, folks, let’s not forget we have Elise’s news to hear.”
There was a polite hush as Elise drew herself up with a smile. “I’m happy to report that I’ll be having a little girl. I’m going to name her Constance Celice, and I’m going to call her Celice.” Then she turned to her aunt. “The Constance is for you, Aunt Connie, and Celice is out of thin air. Don’t ask me where it came from. I’m just a law unto myself.”
“Why . . . thank you. I think Celice is a beautiful name, sweetie,” Connie said, embracing her niece as the same wave of “Congratulations!” erupted throughout the room.
“A boy and a girl for the McShay family,” Jeremy said, warmly embracing his sister. “We all have a lot to look forward to.”
Elise’s smile faded slightly as she answered, “I hope so.”
* * *
Elise found herself on the great room sofa, facing the warmth of a chilly November fireplace as Connie began another of their confidential talks. The last guest from the Reveal Party had left, and Douglas had made himself scarce once again for another session of “girl talk” between his wife and his niece.
“Elise, sweetie,” she was saying, “I’m perfectly thrilled you’ve included me in naming your precious little daughter, but—”
“I knew there was going to be a but, Aunt Connie,” Elise interrupted. “I can always tell when you’ve got something on your mind.”
“I certainly don’t want to rain on your parade, but it’s just that I’m wondering how your mother will take this. I mean, honoring me over her the way you have. She’s your own flesh and blood, and I’m just an in-law.”
“I don’t think of you that way at all.”
“I understand that, but you do know what I mean, don’t you?”
Elise took her aunt’s hand, sitting perfectly still for a moment or two as she tried to find the right words. “Listen, I’ve grown so close to you and Uncle Doug over the last six months. This isn’t a question of genes. You’ve taken me in and been so kind to me as I go through this . . . well, I guess you could call it an experiment.”
Connie gently withdrew her hand, but the expression on her face exuded warmth and understanding. “Sweetie, this is not an experiment. It’s a child, and you’re bringing her into this world.”
“I understand that. Maybe I put it the wrong way. But what’s wrong with me honoring you by giving my daughter your name?”
Connie sat in thoughtful silence for a while. “I was just moving ahead a few days to Thanksgiving. You’re going to be springing the news of your pregnancy on your parents, as well as the method you chose to get pregnant. T
hat’s certainly not business as usual, but fingers crossed that that’ll go off well. Just give your mother a thought or two. Maybe you could name the child Susan Celice instead of Constance Celice? It might keep the peace in the family. Just my two cents, sweetie. Will you at least think about it?”
Elise took a while but eventually said, “You do realize that at this point I’m closer to you than I am to Mom, don’t you? Of course, it’s not a contest, but okay, I’ll think about what you said. You haven’t given me any bad advice yet.”
Then Connie said, “I’m gonna scooch on over just a tad bit and give you the biggest hug ever, and please just know that whatever you name your daughter, I’ll be the best great aunt who ever lived.”
“I’m not worried in the least about that.”
* * *
The time had come at last. After they had gotten home from the Reveal Party, Maura Beth and Jeremy had sat down at the kitchen table and picked the winner for their son’s name. The next step was for Maura Beth to call her mother, Cara Lynn, and do another reveal—this one, perhaps, much more important than the one trotted out at the party for her friends, who would support her no matter what. This one might very well have consequences that could last a lifetime.
Jeremy remained seated at the table as Maura Beth picked up the phone and waited for her mother to answer. “Just stay strong and keep a smile in your voice, Maurie,” he told her, giving her a thumbs-up.
Moments later, the conversation began with typical small talk about everyone’s health, the weather, and so on. There was a tenseness about it that always accompanies delaying getting to some difficult point.
“I have some wonderful news,” Maura Beth said, finally. “We decided not to wait any longer, and we found out we’re going to have a boy. You’ll soon have a grandson to spoil.”
Cara Lynn’s reaction was warm and genuine. “I’m so thrilled, and Daddy will be, too. You had us on pins and needles all this time wondering what was going on. I assume everything is okay with the baby? There wasn’t any sort of complication you were worried about, was there?”
“No, it was nothing like that. Everything’s fine. Dr. Lively says things couldn’t be better. Is Daddy there, too?”
“Wouldn’t you know it? He had a deposition tonight of all nights,” Cara Lynn said in disgust. “He’s consulting on a case as a favor to a friend. But he’ll be back any minute now.”
Then came the carefully rehearsed part that Maura Beth dreaded. She could only hope that she would not forget any of the lines she and Jeremy had so carefully contrived. She had even written down several keywords on a piece of paper if her memory should fail her.
“I wanted you to know that Jeremy and I took all of your family name suggestions into serious consideration—every single one. You gave us quite a variety, but we decided to simplify, though.”
“What do you mean by simplify?”
Maura Beth could sense the subtle change in her mother’s tone. Not exactly imperious yet—but headed that way. “Instead of last names, we’re going to go with first names. I think you’ll be pleased, though. We’re naming our son Paul William McShay. The Paul is for Jeremy’s father, obviously, and William is for Daddy. But we’re going to call our son Liam for a touch of originality. We’re both very excited about it and hope you are, too.”
There was an ominous silence on the other end of the phone. It was crazy the way a few seconds could stretch out to infinity.
“Well, what do you think?” Maura Beth said, swallowing hard.
More silence, and Maura Beth felt the first stirrings of panic. Was this going to explode in her face?
“Hello? Are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here,” Cara Lynn said finally.
“Then don’t keep me in suspense like this.”
“I don’t like to rush into things.”
It was all Maura Beth could do to hold her temper, but just when she thought she’d reached the tipping point, Cara Lynn came through.
“I’ve been thinking it over carefully, and my opinion is that your father will be very pleased that you’ve honored him this way. I had hoped you might choose one of my side of the family’s names, but perhaps if you have a little girl later on you could make that decision.”
That was enough to burst the emotional dam, despite the fact that the issue had not been put to bed completely. Their son had made it through the obstacle course. Perhaps a future daughter might not. “You’ve made me so happy tonight, Mama. I couldn’t have hoped for a better response from you. I thought Daddy would like it, too,” Maura Beth said, the relief clearly evident in her voice. “Do you like our idea of calling him Liam? Is it too outside the box?”
“I don’t think so at all. It has a dignity to it,” Cara Lynn said. “Yes, I think I like it very much. Maura Beth, you are the most surprising daughter any mother ever had. I learned when you got married up there in Cherico that you were always going to be your own woman to the very end. You and I finally reached an understanding. What I hope for now is a healthy baby so I can get busy being a grandmother. I’ve been looking forward to it for I don’t know how long, and now the time is nearly here. So I think I need to go ahead and get myself in the right frame of mind.”
“I’m blowing you a big kiss through the phone right this minute. I hope you can catch it.”
Cara Lynn waited a few seconds and said, “Caught it. And here’s one right back to you. I’ll tell Daddy all the good news as soon as he gets home. Would you like for him to call you?”
“Very much.”
“Then it’s done.”
“I love you, Mama.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
Maura Beth hung up the phone and smiled at Jeremy across the way. He had already gleaned the outcome of the call from her end of the conversation and looked supremely smug.
“So we did all that worrying for nothing, I gather?” he said.
Maura Beth laughed and pointed his way. “Well, the rehearsing was worth it. You noticed I didn’t trip up.”
“You did good, Maurie.”
“Yeah, well, Mama will always keep us on our toes,” she told him with a gleam in her eye. “You can take that to the bank.”
9
One Big, Happy Family
By late November, the northern stretches of the Natchez Trace Parkway had lost much of their autumnal palette. No more the golden, red, and burnt orange leaves to delight the eye as they decorated the hardwood branches on either side of the road. Having fallen from the grace of the growing season, they now formed a carpet of color on the grass below, but even that was starting to fade as the nights grew colder and less forgiving. Brown was rapidly becoming the default hue. Still, there were always glimpses of deer and wild turkey, posing and strutting about at the edge of the woods to entertain sightseers traveling down from Nashville or up from Natchez; there was also the occasional historical exhibit that attracted parkway visitors no matter what the weather was like.
On the day before Thanksgiving, Paul and Susan McShay found themselves making the journey from Nashville to Cherico, keeping themselves occupied with small talk and occasional speculation.
“I still think it’s not like Elise,” Susan was saying to her husband at the wheel of their SUV.
They weren’t able to do the limit of fifty miles per hour because of several cars in front of them obviously enjoying the scenery and in no hurry to get where they were going. No one ever took the parkway to make good time. It was foolish to even try. It just happened to be the most direct route from Nashville to Cherico.
“Taking a sabbatical to study small-town life in Cherico just doesn’t sound like something she would do,” Susan continued. “Connie swears that’s all that’s going on, but I think there’s more to this than that. Frankly, I never thought Elise would take a sabbatical until she retired. She’s so consumed with all those ideas of hers. She once told me she had so many young women to reach, and there was no point in taking any time off.
She might miss that special one who would go on to make a huge difference in the world.”
Paul, ever the retired Vanderbilt psychology professor who still cut quite a figure in his sweater vests, continued to be amused by his wife’s ramblings on the subject. “You keep doubting everything, but you never seem to be able to come up with another explanation for why Elise is down there staying with my brother and Connie.”
Susan gently patted her perfectly coiffed hair. She was always a study in fashionable attire and skillfully applied makeup, no matter the occasion. “Maybe I haven’t. But if Elise thinks she’s going to find a whole bunch of hippie feminists to interview down there in Cherico who agree with her about everything, she’s sadly mistaken. Those two things don’t go together in the small-town South. I’m not sure you can find anyone who fits that description in Brentwood. Everyone in our neighborhood embraces the success we’ve all enjoyed. Let’s face it—Elise is stuck in 1969, and she wasn’t even around then. She lives in her own little projection of the past.”
“Connie never said she was down there to interview hippies or feminists. That’s not the same as studying small-town life,” Paul said.
“That’s all well and good,” Susan said, brushing him off with a sweep of her hand. “But I’m a mother, and I still think there’s something fishy about Elise being down there. Of course, she never phones to tell us anything. We wouldn’t even know she had moved in with Connie and Douglas if Connie hadn’t called us up. I’m pretty good at reading people, and Connie sounded so strange when she explained everything. If you ask me, there was an element of hemming and hawing to it. And if Jeremy and Maura Beth can pick up a phone and say hello every once in a while, why can’t Elise?”
Paul made a grunting noise that clearly indicated he was annoyed. “That’s nothing new, so stop thinking about it. Concentrate on Jeremy and Maura Beth and our first grandchild on the way. The last thing we should do is get into a big fight with Elise about her career when we have other things to celebrate. We have to give her the benefit of the doubt.”
