by Ashton Lee
“I completely agree.” Then he stared down into his lap. “But it doesn’t make it any easier to face the fact that I’ve fallen deeply.”
* * *
It wasn’t that Periwinkle lacked faith in the doctors and nurses at Cherico Memorial when they kept telling her that her baby daughter was making slow, steady progress but was nowhere near ready to come home. It was more that she couldn’t get out of her head her mother’s rejection of her marriage to Parker and the child who had resulted. It wasn’t supposed to be like that between mother and daughter, and there were times when Parker caught her crying at the kitchen table or lying in bed to rest. But no matter how hard Parker tried to soothe her, it never seemed to completely shut down her fretting. She seemed to be intent on not allowing the wound to heal.
Then one night with the effects of the full moon streaming through the bedroom windows, Parker awoke to the sounds of her sobbing softly next to him well into the early-morning hours, and he knew he had to try again. He started by snuggling up against her and taking her hand.
“Peri, I understand how you feel about your mother, but you’ve got to let it go. It’s robbing you of sleep and peace of mind. This can’t go on.”
“It’s not just that. There’s something else.”
“Go on. Tell me.”
She turned toward him, looking directly into his eyes. The moonlight had found its way into his pupils, as if a spell had been cast, making her think she could tell him anything without flinching. “I keep thinking we’ve done something wrong to deserve this.”
“What are you talking about? Deserve what? Denia being a preemie? Where did you get that idea from?”
Her words came in spurts. “What I mean is . . . not everybody approves of us . . . and I heard . . . well, the front door to the restaurant was open once . . . and some man was passing by . . . and I heard him say that he’d never eat in a place run by a . . . well, you know, the N word.”
Parker looked unperturbed. “So who cares what some redneck thinks of us? What are you trying to get at?”
“I know it sounds totally unreasonable, but I’ve had these crazy thoughts lately about us not fitting in and that somehow we’ve fallen from grace.”
This time, Parker drew back, and the moonlight went out of his eyes. “You can’t really think something like that, can you, Peri? This isn’t the civil rights era anymore where there was a firebomb lurking around every corner or a Klansman burning a cross on someone’s lawn. Hell, Mama lived through it from beginning to end, and you know how strong her faith was. She accepted us, and I know she would have cherished Denia. We are not being punished for being a nontraditional couple. I don’t believe in a universe that works like that. Besides, we have some real friends in the members of The Cherry Cola Book Club. I know all of them think we’re in the mainstream of life—running a business and trying for a family. Isn’t that the American Dream?”
Sounding somewhat chastened, Periwinkle said, “Yes, I know you’re right. What’s wrong with my head these days? Maybe it’s all the visits to the NICU, and Denia doesn’t seem any better off. The nurses tell me she is, but I don’t see it. I try to keep my chin up, and I tell Maura Beth and everyone else that it’s going fine. But I can sense they think I’m not telling them the truth.”
Parker moved closer again and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re going way overboard with all this reading between the lines. Where’s that feisty, spunky lady I fell in love with who built The Twinkle from the ground up and ran everybody else out of town, including your ex-husband.”
Trying gamely to keep a smile on her face, Periwinkle said, “She got pregnant, that’s what.”
“Which is gonna make her the best mother of all time.”
“Well, when you put it that way . . .”
He leaned over and kissed her on the lips, and she returned his ardor as they embraced. “Will you promise me to try to stop fretting over your mother? There is no way in hell we’ll ever change the way she thinks. We, on the other hand, are good people playing by the rules, no matter what anyone else thinks.”
Periwinkle sniffled a couple of times and cleared her throat. “One thing you have to understand is that this is maybe the first time in my life since my divorce from Harlan Lattimore that I haven’t felt in control of things. He had me completely fooled and under his thumb all those years we were married. When he tried to propose marriage again, I saw through him and that he was mainly after all the money I’ve made off The Twinkle. But this not knowing with Denia—well, it makes me feel so helpless, and that’s just not in my wheelhouse.”
“I understand that,” Parker told her. “But you need to stop beating yourself up. You’re a strong woman, and I know in my heart that this situation with Denia is gonna go our way. She couldn’t be our daughter and not be a fighter. You just wait and see if I’m not right.”
The bewitching power of moonlight had returned to his eyes, and she took a deep breath. “I love the way you make sense of everything. I promise I’ll try to do much better from here on out.”
“That’s my Peri,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Now let’s get some sleep and dream about the day Denia comes home. The way I figure it, it’ll be one helluva Christmas present.”
12
A Timely Discussion
The mysterious element called time is an unpredictable little imp. It moves inconsistently according to the realities of every single person on the planet. While some would rather it roll along the plains of daily life like a tumbleweed, others would prefer that it slow to an imperceptible crawl like a glacier. Yet, perversely, it often seems to do the opposite of what is requested or fervently expected, and there is little that can be done about it.
For nearly everyone, however—at least in America—it adopts the tumbleweed effect between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Each day between the two zips by while a thousand more frantic errands and things to cross off lists pile up. There are never enough hours in the days. Suddenly, Thanksgiving comes and goes with its groaning tables of delicious foods and visiting relatives, and before anyone knows it, Christmas has arrived with its brightly colored lights and decorations, presents under the tree, carols, and church services. All of it takes place according to “tumbleweed time” before everything glaciers again in January at the beginning of another long, uphill climb of a year.
So it was that a great deal unfolded quickly during that period in Cherico, Mississippi: Little Ardenia Bedloe Place continued her slow progress in the NICU, with incremental gains here and there. Each visit to the NICU at Cherico Memorial was still somewhat of a trial for her stressed-out parents instead of a devout prayer answered.
Sturdy, forthright Nurse Imogene Rodgers—she of the prominent bosom and heavy eyebrows—continued with her hand-holding and hopeful counsel, however. “There’s always the chance she could be home with you by Christmas. We just need to put some more weight on her and make sure all her vital organs can function. We definitely don’t want to risk anything by letting her go too soon. You just keep that in mind, and don’t you despair.”
When the news spread throughout The Cherry Cola Book Club that little Denia was still in a delicately balanced state, tidings of comfort appeared in abundance. Maura Beth even decided to call a special meeting of the club in the library’s mini-auditorium. In fact, it was nearly a year to the day that she had done the same thing to lift the spirits of the town when everything seemed to be going south: Spurs ’R’ Us had withdrawn its plans to locate a new plant in the industrial park, several businesses were just about to shut their doors for good and move away, and the sales tax base was dwindling so fast it could barely be grabbed and captured on the city’s ledgers by Councilman Durden Sparks and his cronies.
But Maura Beth’s special meeting had more than done the trick: Members had shared inspirational stories that celebrated life, illuminated and dignified grieving, suggested what the “big picture” was all about, and brought people together as never befo
re. Not long after, country music singer Waddell Mack had been instrumental in turning around the Spurs ’R’ Us CEO, Dillard Mills, and Cherico appeared headed for a new era of hope and prosperity. At least they would have well over three hundred new jobs to buoy that belief.
The format Maura Beth had chosen for this year’s special meeting was a simple one and not altogether unlike the previous one: The core members were to get up on the stage and give Periwinkle and Parker a boost with their own particular good news. Perhaps this close-to-Christmas meeting would become an annual tradition as a result. And why not? Red, white, and green candles adorned two small tables at either end of the stage, and there was a large, red felt banner tacked above the proscenium with the words O COME ALL YE BOOK CLUB FAITHFUL in white block lettering. That was a timeless message, indeed.
At the moment, Maura Beth was leading off the parade at the podium. “We are confident that your little Denia will be with you before the year is out. One of Santa’s helpers whispered it in my ear. He said they’d gotten your wish list up there at the North Pole, and they all thought it was the best they’d received in years. So, I think you’re a cinch to get exactly what you want,” she was saying, pointing to her friends seated in the front row.
“Thank you,” Periwinkle said, blowing her a kiss while the others enjoyed the surge of good feeling. “We figured you’d have your finger on the pulse. Ever since you moved up here from New Orleans, you’ve had Cherico’s best interests at heart.”
“As for us, Jeremy and I have all the Lamaze exercises down, of course,” she continued. “We should pass with flying colors when the time comes, but we’ll take nothing for granted. All we want is healthy babies for ourselves and our friends, and my instincts tell me we’re going to get them. The Free Sample Sisters absolutely will not fail in their mission to populate the world with their freeloading antics. No grocery store is safe from our tentacles.”
Laughter erupted across the auditorium, but Maura Beth quickly interrupted it with a wave of her hand. “I think almost all of you know by now that Periwinkle, Elise, and myself made a habit of eating Mr. Hannigan out of his free samples every Wednesday at The Cherico Market for months, and that’s how we came up with that name, right, girlfriends?”
“Guilty as charged,” Periwinkle said, raising her hand.
“What she said,” Elise added with a mischievous grin.
“Anyway, our little Liam’s latest sonogram looks perfect, and we’re thankful for that. He’s still due the second or third week in January. He was a huge part of our discussion around the Thanksgiving table. Gosh, it seems like that was just yesterday and here it is almost Christmas.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Connie said from her perch in the front row. “I don’t know what it is about the holiday season, but it just whizzes by.”
Jeremy spoke up. “Usually, when you anticipate something a lot, time slows down as if it’s teasing you, and then afterward it reverts to the usual pace that you don’t even pay attention to. But I truly believe that between Thanksgiving and Christmas, something magical happens.”
“Magical and wonderful,” Connie added, and there was pleasant buzzing throughout the room.
Maura Beth took the floor again. “Well, that was my little update and contribution before we adjourn to have some of all the goodies we brought to eat and drink. It wouldn’t be a Cherry Cola Book Club meeting without that. I believe my sister-in-law, Elise, is next in line to add her thoughts.”
It was safe to say that the reception for Elise was decidedly different from the one that Maura Beth had received. It was polite but not overly enthusiastic. Some in the audience still recalled the scene she had made at the Lamaze presentation during the first Expecting Great Things program, and they did not know what to expect. Still, it was always The Cherry Cola Book Club way to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and kindly reserve judgment.
“Hello, friends,” Elise began, stepping up to the podium with the biggest smile she could manage and sporting her by-now trademark maternity knit pullover with blue jeans. “I know I’m not an official member of your club, but I’ve only heard wonderful things about it from Maura Beth and my brother, Jeremy. Every town should have a club like yours where you can support one another through thick and thin. I wanted to say that in the months I’ve been staying down here in Cherico with my aunt Connie and uncle Doug, I’ve come to appreciate what a community can do for the people who live within it.”
She paused a little longer than was necessary, looking a bit puzzled and creating a sense of suspense. There were those in their seats who became ever so slightly uneasy, wondering if she would revert to the Elise they had witnessed during her Lamaze outburst. But thankfully, Elise’s smile soon reappeared.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think I’d lost my train of thought,” she continued. “I was just changing it in my head. You see, I’ve been working on a book with my brother, Jeremy, and his friend Alex from the high school. We’re taking a look at the changes in the nuclear family in the millennium. Changes of all kinds, you understand. And it suddenly flashed into my head, that your club here is a change. From everything I’ve heard, you’re an alternative family for one another, and that’s a very good thing. It occurred to me that Jeremy, Alex, and I ought to include a chapter about this very Cherry Cola Book Club. It might be an inspiration to other people around the country who’re looking for a new kind of support group. The way I look at it, you’re an all-purpose support group. Now, how many of those are around?”
Jeremy spoke up again. “Wow! I think you’ve definitely hit on something new, Leesie.”
Alex, who was sitting next to him, said, “I think it would be a fantastic addition to our book.”
Then Connie put in her two cents. “I agree with all that, but tell them about your baby, Elise. I think that’s what we really came to hear.”
Elise’s smile widened, but there was a hint of embarrassment to it. “You’re right. I almost forgot, didn’t I? Well, Celice is on track just like Maura Beth’s Liam. We both have due dates somewhere around the middle of January—maybe third week at the most. It’s exciting that our children will be cousins, and we’ll see that they get to know each other no matter where we all live. For the first time in my life, I’m seeing the importance of family in a brand-new light.”
“As your aunt and Lamaze coach all rolled into one, I think that’s a very wise and much-appreciated thing to say,” Connie added.
When Elise had finished, Becca Brachle replaced her with more good tidings for the Places. “I don’t have a doubt in the world that you’ll soon have your baby with you all the time. Then all this worry and doubt will be forgotten as you focus on things like feedings and weight gains and trying to get enough sleep for yourself. But the big payoff will be that child of yours who will never again allow you to think of yourself as a single individual. You’ll now have someone you’ve created who you’re intimately connected to via the complex reality of DNA. Our little Markie’s first year has been a revelation to me and Justin. How could anyone in the world be so enthralling and entertaining and continually surprising? Just when we think we’ve seen it all, he does something else to amaze us and stop us in our tracks. You’ll soon have that to look forward to, and best of all, you’ll have Maura Beth and Elise and myself—even though I’m almost a year ahead of you—to compare notes with. Oh, and one more thing, I’m so jealous that I wasn’t pregnant at the same time the three of you were. I would love to have been one of The Free Sample Sisters with you. You don’t think there’d be a limit to how many could join, do you?”
“No way, no how. And we would’ve loved to have had you with us nibbling all those quiches and munching those crackers and whatnot, girlfriend,” Periwinkle said. “Hey, worry about calories? Not us.”
“I’ll tell you,” Connie said, “I went with the three of them now and then, and I believe it was the most fun I’ve ever had for free. Although it really wasn’t free because we a
ll ended up buying lots of what we sampled, plus whatever else caught our fancy on the shelves. Mr. Hannigan swears by us.”
Justin Brachle raised his big, ex-quarterback hand. “Can men do this free sample thing? Sounds like a good deal to me.”
“Anyone can,” Periwinkle said. “Fact is, Mr. Hannigan is kicking himself in the rear end that he never did it before now. I mean, it’s been done maybe forever everywhere else in the universe, but he says he was just too conservative about marketing since he’s just about the only game in town and doesn’t have to worry about competition. Now, he’s sold on sampling, and he’s not just doing it on Wednesdays, he’s upped it to Saturdays when more people have time off.”
“I think maybe he’d go out of business if all you men gobbled up the freebies and then didn’t follow up with actually buying groceries. That’s where he makes it all up. I mean, you’re not pregnant like we are, and you men never will be,” Maura Beth added with a wink.
“That may be, but I’m a right hungry fella when I wanna be,” Justin said. “I’ll just check out one of these freebie sessions, myself. Maybe I’ll wander on down from the real estate office for lunch one day.”
“I think we’d better go together. I’ll need to keep an eye on you. I don’t want you gaining all that weight back you lost after your heart attack,” Becca said, stepping away from the podium and returning to her seat.
Justin bristled a bit. “Now I think I can pull away from the trough if I need to, honey.” Then he gave her a wink to lighten the exchange.
“I was just kidding,” Becca said. “But it does sound like something fun to do together.”
