Book Club Babies

by Ashton Lee

  “How very family-minded of you,” Susan said. “Would it be too much of me to ask what you’re actually going to call her with all that to choose from?”

  Now Elise was in her comfort zone. All the rehearsal she had done with her Aunt Connie would surely pay off, and everyone would be satisfied. Or at least she hoped that would be the outcome.

  “If it’s all right with you and Aunt Connie, I’d like to call her Celice. She’d officially have both your names to honor you, but I thought I’d like to give her something original to go by.”

  Susan’s lips moved as she repeated the name in silence. “It’s a pretty enough name. How did you come up with it?”

  “I don’t honestly know. I just like the way it sounds.”

  “Do you mind if I take a few minutes to get a few things off my chest?” Susan said to her daughter.

  Paul gave his wife a look of consternation that contained everything they had discussed on the ride down. “Maybe it would be a good idea to sit with all this for a while.”

  But Susan actually gave him a wink in return. “No, I promise I’ll be constructive about all this. Elise, I wouldn’t be doing my duty as a mother if I didn’t put in my two cents. Bringing you and your brother up was no walk in the park. You were both so competitive about everything, but you both also knew what you wanted out of life and went for it. How could we not be proud of both of you?”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Jeremy put in quickly.

  “That’s nice to hear,” Elise added.

  “That said,” Susan continued, “I can’t imagine my life without Paul. There were times when I didn’t know the answers regarding you two, but he did. I got through those episodes because of him—and only because of him. He was my partner in everything we decided to do.”

  Paul chuckled and said, “Don’t make me sound like a saint, sweetheart. I’m far from it.”

  “No, my point is that I can’t imagine being a single mother. But that’s what you’ve chosen for yourself, Elise. I have to admit I’m a bit shocked by your choice, although in a way I shouldn’t be. You really have always been your own woman. I just think raising any child is a huge responsibility, and if you need help with it at any time, you shouldn’t be afraid to ask for it. Your father and I have already missed two trimesters. Don’t shut us out of the third.”

  “Was that a note of approval?” Elise said.

  Susan glanced at her husband and son before answering. “I suppose it is. But . . . is there anything else I need to know about what’s been going on down here? I think I’m owed that much.”

  “Just that life here on the lake has been so relaxing for me,” Elise said. “Aunt Connie’s a wonderful cook, and she helps me follow all of Dr. Lively’s rules to the letter. He’s my obstetrician, of course.”

  Susan made a breathy sound with her lips that betrayed her deflated mood. “I could have wished you would have told us about this first. We would have been happy to take care of you in Brentwood, you know.”

  “Would you have, Mom? I mean, really?”

  Paul answered instead. “Of course we would. Maybe it would have been a bit of a shock at first just the way it is now. But family comes first.”

  “Even if it’s not traditional?”

  “That’s really no one’s business but yours,” Paul said. “And ours, if you’ll include us. Do you want to stay down here until the baby comes? You can have your old room back if you want it.”

  Elise shot her brother a wide-eyed glance and tilted her head. “What do you think, Jer?”

  Jeremy’s jaw dropped, but he recovered with a smile. “You actually want my opinion on something like this? Hey, I know better than to butt in too much.”

  “Good point. I know I’ve asked you to back off more than once.”

  Elise thought for a while longer and said, “If you wouldn’t mind, Mom and Dad, I’d like to stay down here at the lodge. Maura Beth and I have practically become sisters sharing our pregnancies. So I think I’d like to be around for her baby’s birth, and I’d like to have her around for mine. As Jer said, they’re going to be first cousins, no matter what. Plus, I really do have this book project to work on with Jer and Alex, and it would be difficult to do that up in Brentwood. But now that you know about everything, both of you can visit anytime you want.”

  “Well, that settles that, then,” Susan said, managing a weak smile.

  Connie emerged from the kitchen with the coffeepot and more cups on a silver tray and headed toward the fireplace table. “Sorry it took me so long. How are things going?”

  “I think we’ve survived the first shock wave nicely,” Elise said. “You have to start somewhere.”

  “Maybe I should go out and bring the luggage in now,” Paul added, rising from the sofa.

  Jeremy got up from his chair at almost the same time. “Do you need any help with that, Dad?”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh, I’d forgotten about that,” Susan said.

  Paul shrugged. “I hadn’t.”

  And then the two men headed out the door.

  There was, however, a decided element of escape about it with all the clipped dialogue in rapid sequence, and Connie noticed. “Fresh coffee, anyone?” she said, trying to inject a note of normalcy into a situation that was anything but.

  “Yes, I’ll take a cup, thank you. It was a long drive. We got behind a parade of slowpokes along the Trace and thought we’d never get here,” Susan said, watching Connie pour. “Do you want one, Elise?”

  Elise put her hand atop her protruding belly protectively, giving her mother an incredulous stare.

  Susan instantly winced. “Oh . . . the caffeine. I didn’t think. You’ve got to give me some time to get used to this.”

  Elise gently rubbed her mother’s arm. “Take all the time you need. I realize I’m still a handful.”

  * * *

  Maura Beth’s entrance ten minutes later was a welcome balm for everyone, and the conversation focused on her quickly.

  “You definitely wear your pregnancy well,” Susan told her, after everyone had embraced. “Is this flannel you’re wearing? I would never have thought of that for a maternity outfit.”

  “Yes, it’s a popover, and I couldn’t resist the plaid design. Isn’t it cute? I know it makes me look like I’m going on a hayride and I’m a farmer’s daughter, but it sure is comfortable. Some of my patrons have commented on how much they like it.”

  “I ordered several of them for her so she’d have lots of different looks at work,” Jeremy said. “Well, at least she’d have different colors. I’ve learned that that’s pretty important to women.”

  Maura Beth sent a smooching sound in his general direction. “Susan, your son has made it so easy for me. You raised a good man there.”

  “I’ve tried very hard not to go overboard,” Jeremy said, winking. “Believe it or not, there’ve been a few times that Maurie has had to pull me back from being pregnant myself. It’s going to be the basis for the humorous book I’m trying to write.”

  “I’m not the tiniest bit surprised. When my children choose to do anything in life, they go all out,” Susan added, laughing, but she was looking only at Jeremy when she said the words.

  “The best part is, Maura Beth and I really are like sisters now, as I told you,” Elise said, stepping in and resting her hand on Maura Beth’s shoulder. “We’re always comparing notes from everything to heartburn to how often our babies kick. It helps, believe me.”

  “That’s nice,” Susan said. “Only other women truly understand what it’s like to be pregnant. Are you due in January, too, Maura Beth?”

  “Somewhere around there. Elise and I are about two weeks apart. And we have another friend, Periwinkle Place, who’s not far behind. She’s a member of The Cherry Cola Book Club, and she and her husband also run The Twinkle. That’s our most popular restaurant.”

  Susan continued to pump Maura Beth. “Yes, I remember you got the idea for the club when you came up to Brentwood
year before last, didn’t you?”

  “There was a little more to it than that, but pretty much. You and Paul are still big readers, I’m guessing.”

  Susan nodded. “We both love to read. We like to keep up with all the bestsellers and such.”

  “Then you absolutely must let me take you on a tour of my new library next door,” Maura Beth said. “It’s my legacy to this little town of Cherico that I’ve fallen in love with and never want to leave. Jeremy and I want to raise our children here.”

  “I’d love it,” Susan added.

  “We’re not officially open on Thanksgiving, of course, but I’ve got the keys, and you’re family.”

  “That sounds delightful, doesn’t it, Paul?”

  He nodded in agreement.

  Maura Beth took a seat on the sofa and continued to describe the amenities her library offered as Susan sat beside her, seemingly mesmerized, asking question after question almost as if she were a reporter. In fact, the entire room was focused on Maura Beth and her enthusiasm for her hard-won achievement.

  Throughout it all, Elise grinned politely, even though she was suddenly overcome with a feeling of being slightly out of place. As she quietly surveyed the room, she noted with some surprise that only Alex was not paying attention to Maura Beth. Instead, he was looking at her with the suggestion of a smile—one that gently lifted the corners of his mouth. One that was both sweet and respectful.

  And even though a part of Elise wanted to smile back, another part of her simply would not allow it. She felt stuck and conflicted, and did not know how to make the feeling go away.

  10

  Early

  Periwinkle and Parker Place were going all out for their Thanksgiving feast as only two accomplished chefs could, dividing up the assignments judiciously. Although Parker would be whipping up a pumpkin custard pie for dessert, as would be expected of a pastry baker, he would also be contributing a squash, onion, and crumbled Saltine casserole, while Periwinkle would be basting four game hens wrapped in bacon—two for each of them—and assembling an appetizer of caprese salad made with heirloom tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and basil with a generous drizzle of homemade balsamic vinaigrette dressing. This was going to be the Thanksgiving to outdo all others for the two of them. Three, counting the little one on the way, who would be the ultimate beneficiary of all that delicious food.

  At the moment their preparations were right on time for a one o’clock meal, so much so that they had bought themselves enough leeway to take a break and put their feet up on the living room sofa. Parker was sipping his glass of white Zinfandel, while Periwinkle was enjoying a cup of pure, unadulterated, if store-bought, egg nog.

  “I’m not going to wait until Christmas this year,” she was saying. “Our little girl needs her calcium, you know.”

  Parker gently patted his wife’s significant baby bump and beamed at what he had helped create. “Which reminds me, I’ve decided to create an egg-nog cheesecake for our dessert menu at The Twinkle this year. I don’t know why I haven’t ever tried something like that before. I never did it up in Memphis all those years. Doesn’t that sound irresistible?”

  Periwinkle quickly raised her hand. “I volunteer to be your guinea pig, of course. By the time we get to the finished product, you’ll be ready for one of those contests on the Food Network.”

  “I was hoping you would say something like that. And yes, I think I could go on television and win one of those things. We could always find something to do with the extra money.”

  “As if I haven’t been your taster and sampler a hundred times before. After all, I’m your quality-control gal.”

  He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “You sure are—and a damned good one at that.”

  Periwinkle took another sip of her egg nog, but then her playful, satisfied expression disappeared, replaced by creases across her forehead and a drooping sadness at the corners of her eyes.

  Parker noticed and said, “What’s the matter?”

  “Mama, of course.”

  Parker glanced up at the ceiling, shaking his head with his eyes closed. “Peri, please. We’ve been all over that. You can’t let her get to you like this. Let her sulk and fester all by herself, but don’t let it ruin our life together.”

  “I know. You’re right.” She paused and sighed. “It’s just that I’d hoped for some family support for our baby girl. Who wouldn’t want a grandmother in the picture, spoiling her right and left? Isn’t that part of the American dream? With your mother gone and my mother acting like a complete horse’s ass, it doesn’t look like that’s ever gonna happen for us.”

  “If your mother never comes around, we’ll just have to live our lives without her. Besides, we have all our friends here in Cherico—all the book club members will be there for us—Maura Beth and Jeremy, Becca and Justin, Connie and Douglas, and all the rest of ’em. An alternative family is sure way better than none.”

  “You’re right again, of course.” But there was little conviction in Periwinkle’s voice.

  The two of them sipped quietly for a while as the tempting aromas from the kitchen filled their nostrils.

  “Do you . . . do you think we should go ahead and make one more try?” Periwinkle said finally.

  Parker put his wineglass down on the end table and gently took his wife’s hand. “Listen to me, Peri. We can’t set ourselves up for more rejection like that. She won’t even speak to me, and you’ve gone over there to try to reason with her with terrible results. You came back in tears. I’ve never seen you so unhappy, and it made me mad as hell. We’ll just have to wait for her to come around, if she ever does. She has to make the next move. Maybe when the baby is born, she’ll see the light. But we can’t live our lives expecting it, and we can’t go to pieces if she doesn’t.”

  “No, we definitely shouldn’t do that. I guess the truth is, you can’t have everything in life.”

  “I wonder if anyone ever does,” Parker said, finishing off his wine. “Meanwhile, I’ll go check on all the food. Burning things is strictly not in our DNA. You just stay here and relax a bit longer.”

  * * *

  After Parker had said grace about thirty minutes later, the two of them began to dig into their sumptuous dinner with great relish, and the caprese salad disappeared in no time. Next up came the main course and side dish.

  “You’ve outdone yourself with the squash casserole, sweetie,” Periwinkle said after swallowing a generous forkful. “Did you sneak a little bit of sugar into this by any chance?”

  “Guilty. But just a little. The onions have a natural sweetness, of course. If you go overboard with too much sugar, you practically have a dessert, and I make enough of those as it is.”

  “I never thought of adding a crust of crumbled Saltines in all my years of cooking,” she told him. “But you really need it to offset the sweetness.” She took another forkful. “I think I’m addicted to your recipe.”

  “You could also use oyster crackers instead of Saltines, you know. But don’t eat too fast, though, baby. You don’t want another case of your famous indigestion now, do you?”

  She waved him off. “Of course not. But I just can’t help it. I think the baby must be addicted to your casserole, too. She’s kicking up a storm right this minute. At this rate, I think she’ll turn out to be a champion soccer player. No pun intended, but wouldn’t that be a kick?”

  Parker enjoyed a hearty laugh. “I betcha she’ll be the best at whatever she wants to do.”

  The carefree banter continued as they both tackled the task of carving their game hens. There had been an ongoing but playful debate earlier in the week about the merits of a huge turkey with all its leftovers for lots of sandwiches versus the one-time consumption virtues of much-smaller poultry, and of course the game hens had won the argument this time around. No refrigerator-hogging carcass this season to maneuver around.

  Then there was a sudden, sharp intake of breath from Periwinkle. She dropped her knife a
nd fork on the plate with a resounding clatter, which acted as an alarm that immediately filled the room with anxiety.

  “What is it?” Parker said, leaning forward.

  Periwinkle said nothing as she put both hands over her belly and grimaced.

  “Peri? Talk to me.”

  “Call an ambulance. I’m cramping, and I think my water just broke. We need to get to the hospital.”

  “Oh, God!” Parker said, rising from the table and then fumbling with his cell phone on the kitchen counter. “Don’t come now, baby girl. Please, please, please. It’s too soon, too soon!”

  * * *

  That same feeling of being on the outside looking in that Elise had experienced once Maura Beth had entered the lodge the evening before continued throughout Connie’s delicious Thanksgiving dinner consisting of the traditional turkey with all the trimmings. Everyone was polite enough, and there was plenty of small talk to keep the table occupied as course after course was served up. But Elise realized that her artificial insemination pregnancy was definitely the elephant in the room that no one wanted to address any further. It was so much easier to question Jeremy and Maura Beth about their “normal” pregnancy, and Elise truly understood. They were the happy couple who everyone admired. Meanwhile, she was on her own by choice. It was apparently continuing to make her parents uneasy. There had been no further discussion of it the evening before, even though she had wanted to go into their room after dinner and sit down with them. Anything to banish the terrible tension. But she stayed in her own room with her doubts, and they had stayed in theirs. Nothing had changed.

  It was with a great sense of relief to Elise, therefore, when Maura Beth brought her back into the conversation. “I’ve gained another pound over the last week,” she told the gathering. “But this dinner is sure to add one or two more. What about you, Elise?”

  “I’m holding steady,” she said. “But I agree. Aunt Connie knows how to keep people fat and happy. Or is it fat and sassy?”