by Shawn Inmon
I don’t know if Christopher even remembers it is our anniversary. This is not the day to leave anything to chance.
She went to the living room, picked up the handset of the heavy black telephone and dialed Christopher’s work number. When the receptionist answered, Veronica said, “Can I speak to Suzie, please?” She had learned that asking for Christopher while he was at work was an exercise in frustration.
When Suzie came on the line, Veronica said, “Hi, Suzie, it’s Veronica. Can I leave a message for Christopher.”
“Of course, hon. Shoot.”
“Will you ask him if he can be home for dinner by six tonight? It’s important.”
“Sure. You bet. Bye.”
Okay. Dinner’s on to cook. Table’s set. Candles are ready to light. Time for a quick shower, then I can sit around for another hour or two, wondering if this is all in vain.
CHRISTOPHER DID NOT make it home by 6:00, but he did come through the door, rumpled, sleeves rolled up, and jacket slung over his shoulder, at 6:30. Veronica didn’t care. He could have come in at midnight, and she wouldn’t have said a word.
Christopher hung his coat up in the hall closet, then said, “Suzie said it was important that I be home as early as I could. What’s up?”
Veronica was dressed in one of her normal house dresses. She didn’t want to overplay her hand. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Oh, Christ,” he said, wandering into the kitchen. “When a wife says she wants to talk about something, it’s never good news, is it?” The roast was sitting on top of the stove. He lifted the lid, inhaled and said, “Mmm.” He opened the refrigerator, slung one arm over the door and leaned into the cool air. “Hey, you got me a six-pack. Thanks.”
He stopped and looked first at the roast and then at the beer in the fridge. A look flitted across his face, but he shrugged and pulled a Heidelberg out and uncapped it. He took a deep swig and said, “Better already.”
He returned to the living room to find Veronica sitting on the couch waiting for him. He sighed deeply, then said, “Okay, let’s get this over with. What?”
Veronica said, “Let’s eat dinner first, shall we?”
“What are you softening me up for here? Whatever it is, let’s get to it. If we’re going to have a fight, I’d like to get it over with, so I can go to bed.”
“Okay. At least come sit down with me here,” she said, patting the couch.
When Christopher was settled and had another swig, he gave her an impatient “let’s go” motion with his right hand.
All right. Let’s see what every ounce of pride I’ve ever had tastes like on the way down.
“I know I haven’t been a very good wife.”
“Well, it’s my fault too. I didn’t do a very good job of finding out what kind of wife you were going to be.”
Veronica lowered her eyes and stared at the couch until the flare of anger in them faded away.
“I deserve that.” You unspeakable bastard. “We haven’t been doing well, and I know it’s my fault.”
“Amen to that,” Christopher said, toasting her with his beer. Then, he softened a little. “Ah, hell, Ronnie. I just never thought you would be as difficult as you are. You’re just a kid, though, and I know that.” He reached out and touched a lock of her hair, the first time he had touched her in weeks. “Your red hair should have given me the first clue. And, I admit, I should have done a better job in helping you figure out how to be a better wife, so it’s part my fault, too.”
Dear God, please give me the strength to get through this without burying a butcher knife in his sternum.
“But, it’s not too late, is it? I can still be a good wife.” Veronica batted her beautiful green eyes and reached for Christopher’s hand. “Tell me it’s not too late.”
“Where there’s life, there’s hope.”
Veronica leaned over and kissed him like she meant it. “Come on, I’ve got a special dinner made for us.”
While Christopher got another beer out of the refrigerator, Veronica dished up dinner.
When they sat down, Christopher looked down at the roast on his plate, raised his eyebrows at Veronica and said, “Ketchup?”
She jumped up and quick-stepped to the fridge for the ketchup bottle. How good would it feel to smash this bottle right into his smug face? When she set it down beside him, she said, “Sorry, honey. I forgot.”
The best that can be said of the rest of the dinner is, Veronica made it through without committing murder.
After dinner, she got a third beer for Christopher and suggested he sit on the couch. She hurried into the bedroom, took off all her clothes, and slipped the kimono on. She let her hair down so it was loose around her neck. She stopped in the bathroom and spritzed on the perfume Christopher had gotten her on their first anniversary.
She walked self-consciously back into the living room, her bare feet sensitive against the carpet. She stopped and adjusted the kimono so it showed a bit more cleavage. Christopher had turned the television on. Dr. Kildare was playing, but Christopher wasn’t watching. He was staring at the floor, rolling his beer bottle back and forth contemplatively.
Veronica walked quietly into the room. Christopher stared at her for several seconds as if he didn’t recognize her. Then, he jumped slightly and nearly dropped his beer.
Veronica sashayed in front of him, turned off the television and clicked on the stereo. The tone arm dropped, and after a hiss of static, Elvis Presley’s It’s Now or Never played.
Five minutes later, they laid across the mussed sheets of their bed.
Christopher fell immediately into a contented sleep. Veronica, contented as well, smiled into the darkness.
Mission accomplished.
Chapter Twenty
There were no home pregnancy tests in 1962, but as soon as Veronica missed her next period, she was sure. Nonetheless, she scheduled an appointment with their doctor the next week to confirm. She did not tell Christopher about the appointment.
After the doctor took the blood sample from her, he asked, “Shall I call you with the results?”
“Is there any way I can wait?”
“Why don’t we do this,” he said, consulting his watch. It’s almost noon. I’ll turn this in to the lab at the hospital on my way to lunch and ask them to put a rush on it. Then, I’ll pick the results up on my way back. If you come back around 1:30, Nancy will have it for you at the front desk.”
“Wonderful. Thank you, doctor. We’ve been so anxious, I appreciate it.”
“This baby would be good news, then?”
“The best.”
Veronica left the clinic and noticed she was in the same part of town as Artie’s. I haven’t had an Artie’s burger in years. When I find out I’m pregnant, I’ll have to start eating healthier, so let’s have one last splurge.
She climbed into her blue Volkswagen Beetle and drove the half mile to Artie’s. Their first fight had been over whether she could continue to work there. She had won that battle, but lost the war. Christopher had been so angry about it, she had put in her notice a few months later. She had rarely been back.
Artie’s was nearly unchanged. The only difference she noticed immediately was that the KMFR tower had been taken down. A car had backed into it while Scott Patrick was broadcasting on Halloween night, 1961. He came down like Humpty Dumpty, but in this case, the doctors were able to put him back together again.
She parked the VW and decided to eat inside. She walked up to the window and was happy to see Zimm himself behind the counter, taking orders. “Still here, huh Zimm? You’re going to be a lifer.”
“I feel like I’ve already been here several lifetimes. What can I get you, kiddo?”
“Kiddo, huh? What are you, five or six years older than me?”
“I was once. Every year behind this counter ages me ten years, though, so, you do the math.”
“Poor Zimm. DJ isn’t here today, is he?”
“DJ?” Perr
y Zimmerman scratched at his cheek. “No, he left not long after you did. Haven’t seen him for years.”
“I guess it’s just you for old timers’ day, then. I am dying for an Artie burger, fries, and a Coke, please.” She opened her purse and took out her pocketbook.
Zimm held up his hand. “It’s on the house on old timers’ day.” He winked at her, said, “You look good, Ronnie,” and disappeared toward the grill.
Veronica nodded and smiled at the young carhop who came through the door with a tray of food, headed for the parking lot. That girl looks so damn young. I know I’m still young, too, but this life, this living a lie, is wearing on me. I feel ten years older. It will all be worth it when Sarah gets here, though.
This last sentence was like a mantra to her, repeated dozens of times each day.
Zimm himself brought her food out to her. “Glad to see you, Ronnie. You should stop in more often.”
“I might be along, asking for my old job back one of these days.”
“All you’ve got to do is ask.”
Veronica realized she was sitting at the same table she had been at right after she had woken up in 1958. That day, she had been jealous over Lisa Berry being out with Danny Coleman. Then, Christopher Belkins pulled up the next day and changed everything.
I haven’t had too many happy days since then. Sitting here, with Sarah inside me again, I can say that I am happy. Everything is finally falling into place. It’s going to be a challenge being subservient to Christopher for another two years until I get pregnant with Nellie, but it will all be worth it.
She sucked on her straw until it rattled her ice, looked down and saw she had cleaned the entire basket. Guess I was hungry. Pretty sure I’m eating for two, even though one of us is only the size of a walnut.
She glanced at her watch. Almost 1:00. The thought gave her butterflies, and she hurried to her car. She arrived back at the clinic in two minutes, so she sat in the car, nervously tapping a rhythm against the steering wheel while she waited.
When she couldn’t wait any longer, she hurried inside.
A woman was standing ahead of her at the counter, filling out papers. When the lady behind the counter saw Veronica, she asked the first woman to sit down to finish the paperwork. When Veronica stepped forward anxiously, the woman said, “Mrs. Belkins?”
“Yes.”
“Doctor said you might be anxious for this. She handed Veronica an envelope that said, “Middle Falls Medical Clinic” in the upper left hand corner. Her name had been typed in the middle.
“Oh, that’s very official,” Veronica said, giggling a little bit.
She walked back to the car on shaking legs. She sat behind the wheel, holding the envelope and said a little prayer. “Please Lord. I am trying so hard to do the right thing. Please, please, bring my Sarah back to me. I know I let her down last life, but if you look inside my heart, you can see how I feel.” She hesitated, looking for more words, but settled for, “Amen.”
She blew a puff of air up toward her bangs, then slid her finger along the sealed envelope. Inside was a piece of onion skin paper with a small note attached. She skipped the note and pored over the onion skin. There were dozens of possible tests, but finally her eyes fell on the one she sought.
Pregnancy. Beside that single word, there were two check boxes—positive, negative. An X was typewritten just off center of the “positive” box.
She finally looked at the note. It was in Doctor Graham’s almost illegible handwriting, but she finally puzzled it out. “Contact Nancy at your first opportunity and we’ll get you in for a full exam.”
Exhilaration coursed through Veronica. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Chapter Twenty-One
Veronica sat in the VW, unsure what to do next. Everything she had worked for since she had woken up in 1958 had pointed toward this moment. Now that it had arrived, she didn’t know what came next.
Not much I have to do, I guess. She rubbed her hand across her stomach. Grow this beautiful little girl, but that happens on its own. When do I tell anyone? Who do I tell? Not Christopher. I’ll tell him when I’m ready. Ruthie, maybe? Mom?
She backed out of the parking lot and drove straight to her childhood home. It was midday, so Wallace was at work and Barbara was at Middle Falls High. Doris’s car sat in the driveway, though, so Veronica pulled in beside it.
She walked into the house without knocking, saying, “Mom?”
“In here!” she said from the kitchen
“Sorry to drop in so unexpectedly,” Veronica said. She clutched the test results in her hand.
Doris laughed. “You know you never need to call ahead. Want something to drink?”
Veronica shook her head. Doris took one look at her face, and said, “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”
In answer, Veronica held out the paper.
Doris accepted it with a frown, then reached for her reading glasses she wore on a silver chain around her neck. She peered through them at the paper for twenty seconds, trying to make sense of it. Finally, she saw the result. Her eyebrows shot up.
“Really?”
“Yes. Just had the test this morning.”
Doris threw her arms open and enveloped Veronica. “Oh, a baby! How wonderful.” She held her out at arm’s length. “Is it wonderful?”
Veronica nodded, a brilliant smile breaking out on her face.
“I know you and Christopher have had some problems. Marriage is never easy, and a baby won’t fix a bad one, but it will certainly make for fun holidays for us! Who have you told?”
“Only you, Mom. I’m on my way home from the medical center right now. I’m not going to tell anyone else yet, so don’t tell Dad or Barb, okay?”
“I understand. That’s smart.” She glanced away, then reached for Veronica’s hand. “I never told you, but I lost a baby when I was three months along.”
“Oh, Mom! I never knew.”
Doris nodded. “I know. I don’t like to talk about it. But that’s why it’s a good idea not to shout it from the mountaintops so early. It makes things easier if something terrible happens. There’s plenty of time for announcements and baby showers in a few months.” She looked Veronica over from top to bottom. “You’re so thin, honey. You’re going to look like a rope with a knot tied in it. I’m going to have to fatten you up a little. You don’t know your due date yet, do you?”
“No, I need to make an appointment to go in for an exam soon. Maybe they’ll give me a date then. I could tell you this beautiful little girl will arrive in our lives on May first, but I think I’ll keep that to myself.
Doris hugged her again. They had almost never hugged when Veronica lived at home, but everything was more comfortable between them now. “Thank you for trusting me. Don’t you worry, we’ll take care of everything.”
You always do, Mom.
THE NEXT FEW MONTHS passed quite happily for Veronica. She had gotten adept at pretending to be a Stepford housewife around Christopher, and he had responded predictably. That was, after all, exactly the marriage he had always envisioned. He came and went when he pleased, and Veronica did her best to always have a hot meal ready for him whenever he came home. She spoke when spoken to, no matter how it galled her.
She let Ruthie in on the secret one Saturday when Christopher was off playing golf. They were sitting at the kitchen table, which actually was an honest-to-goodness kitchen table now.
Ruthie was working as a lunch cook at Middle Falls Elementary. She still lived at home with her mother, and didn’t have a lot of prospects for anything else. After she saw how Veronica’s marriage with Christopher had evolved, her own single life seemed perfectly fine. They were drinking tea and looking out the kitchen window at the maple leaves blowing around the yard.
Ruthie squinted at her in the way she always did when she knew something was up, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “Something’s going on with you. You seem a little too happy. Did your doctor prescribe so
me of those happy pills for you?”
Veronica put a long-practiced expression of complete innocence on her face.
Ruthie’s eyes flew wide. “You’re pregnant!”
Veronica’s mouth fell open. “How did you know?” She glanced down at her stomach. “Am I getting fat?”
“Hardly. You were trying so hard to look innocent, that I knew you weren’t, and it popped into my head.” Ruthie looked around, though she knew they were alone in the house. “Does Christopher know?”
“If I don’t serve it to him on a plate or pour it out of a beer bottle, he doesn’t see anything.”
Ruthie looked thoughtful. “So ...”
“So, nothing. I’m having a baby at the end of April or beginning of May. I’m thrilled.”
Ruthie shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose and stared keenly at Veronica, who looked placidly back. “Huh. Okay. A baby then. That’s exciting, right?”
“It is. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
QUIETLY, VERONICA HAD begun using a tiny bit of her grocery money to buy a few things for Sarah—a rattle, a teething ring, a bib. She kept them at the back of her underwear drawer, but took them out to look at them several times a week. It helped her get through the months of waiting for Sarah to arrive.
EVERYTHING CHANGED on the second Tuesday of November. Veronica woke up with a pain in her abdomen. Uh-oh. I’ve completely avoided morning sickness, just like I did the first time I had her. Is this the start of that, or did I eat something I shouldn’t have yesterday?
Christopher was already up and in the bathroom, getting ready for work. Typically, she got up and made him his breakfast, but on this morning, she didn’t feel up to it. When Chris came back into the bedroom, she held up a hand in warning and said, “I think I might be catching something. Better not get too close to me. Can you make your own breakfast this morning?”
