Joan thought for a moment and her face turned a pastier shade of white. “Maybe,” she admitted, and threw her head into the bowl again to empty whatever remained of Rosa’s manicotti.
Chapter 9
Summer 1979
Joan – the self-proclaimed Neo Mulsoy watchdog – and two other Rhode Island mothers formed a group called Mothers of Neo Mulsoy Babies. They met twice a month to share their knowledge, as well as their fears. They met just enough for Frank to label it his wife’s “new obsession.”
“Why is this such a problem for you?” Joan finally asked, frustrated over his snide comments. “I thought you’d be happy that I’m making good use of my time.”
“But that’s all there is now – Neo Mulsoy. It’s completely consumed you and I’ve just about had enough of it!”
It wasn’t long before Frank was dropping the boys off at the cottage again. This time, he sprinted back to his car.
“How far apart are the contractions?” Mama called out after him.
“About twelve minutes, but I want to get her to the hospital right away!”
“You just be sure to drive safe, Frank,” she yelled. “You have plenty of time.”
After a solid hour of teasing the boys, Mama couldn’t make either one of them consider that they might be having a baby sister – not even for a second.
“Can I watch TV?” Ross finally asked, bored with the baby talk.
“Yes, but no Three Stooges. You don’t need any more bad ideas,” she said. “If you need us, your brother and I will be working on his pronunciations.” With a grunt, she lifted Brian and started for the porch.
Brian stared at the old lady, carefully watching as her pencil-thin lips formed each word. Through mind-numbing repetition, he echoed every sound she made.
“Ross,” Mama told him.
“Rin.”
“No…Ross.”
He nodded. “Rin.”
“Try it again. Ross.”
He took his time and carefully said, “Riiiin.”
She shook her head and chuckled. “Okay, how about Steph?”
“Ot.”
“Oh, come on. You can do better than that, Brian.” She paused. “Steph.”
“Ot!”
“Really? How can you possibly get Ot from Steph?”
He giggled. “Ot,” he said. “Ahhhhhht.”
“And Heidi?”
“Biddy.”
She clasped her hands over her heart in a show of gratitude. “Now we’re talking! That’s very close. Good job, Brian.”
He put on his proudest smile and nodded.
“Heidi,” she said again.
“Yets. Biddy,” he countered.
Mama watched as Ross got up from the chair in the living room, walked to the TV and turned up the volume. She laughed. “Looks like your brother’s getting sick of listening to us silly parrots.”
Brian looked into the living room. “Rin,” he said with a smile.
“That’s right…Ross,” Mama said. “Try it again. Ross.”
“Riiiin,” he said, slowly.
With a deep breath, Mama dug in her heels and prepared to go another round.
Two hours later, they emerged from the painful lesson – exhausted but alive. Mama asked him one final question. “What do you say we make a deal?”
He just looked at her, awaiting the terms.
“What do you say that you and I have a discussion every night from now on…say around eight o’clock? This way, you can tell me how good you’re doing and fill me in on all the details of your day. Deal?”
He nodded.
“What does that mean?” she asked, mimicking his nod.
“Yets,” he said.
“You promise?” she asked, raising her pinky finger to seal the pact.
With a giant smile, he wrapped his baby finger around hers and shook it. “Yets, Mama.”
She kissed his hand. “Then it’s a deal!”
Ross was finally saved by the bell when the phone rang. Excited, Mama somehow made her way across the house and picked it up before the end of the second ring.
“It’s a girl!” Joan announced, her voice content but exhausted. “And we’ve named her Angela Louise.” She paused. “We’re going to call her Angie.”
“Oh Joan…” She paused, taking it all in. “I’m honored. That’s just wonderful. Congratulations! How big is she?”
“Seven pounds even. And she’s so beautiful, with light hair and brown eyes. She definitely resembles our side,” she said. “And they let me stay awake for this one.”
“My goodness, the boys are going to be thrilled. I can’t wait to sink my chops into her!”
Joan laughed.
Ross tugged at the old lady’s housedress. “Into who?”
Mama covered the phone’s mouthpiece with her hand. “You have a sister,” she whispered, adding a victorious grin.
Ross was speechless. His eyes glossed over, as he tried to figure out how it felt to have a baby sister. For more months than he could remember, he’d expected another brother.
“And the doctor says she’s perfectly healthy,” Joan reported on the other end.
Mama grabbed the crucifix that hung from her neck and kissed it. “Of course, she is. When are you coming home?”
“Tomorrow, I think.”
“Okay. Get some rest. And tell Frank I said congratulations and thank you for naming her after me,” Mama said.
“I will, Ma.” She laughed. “He didn’t have much say in naming this one, though. But he didn’t argue it, either.”
Mama laughed. “Here’s Ross,” she said and handed the phone to the boy.
Mama approached the kitchen table where Brian was sitting. “You have a baby sister,” she told him. “Her name is Angie. Can you say Angie?”
“A…E.”
“First shot, huh?” She wrapped him up in a bear hug.
He smiled, proudly. “A…E,” he repeated.
After kissing his head, she said, “Well, I think we need to celebrate. You’re a big brother now!” She looked at Ross, who was smiling on the phone. “Just like Ross.”
Brian nodded, more excited about the details of the celebration than having a little sister.
Mama bent down to retrieve her baking pans from the cupboard under the counter.
Brian bounced around in his seat, excited with the anticipation of a sweet treat.
“What do you think you’re doing just sitting there?” she asked, picking him up and lugging him off to the bathroom. “Let’s go wash your hands. No more free rides for you in Mama’s kitchen. You’re going to help!”
“Yets!” he yelled, and squirmed with excitement in her arms.
As Mama passed Ross on the telephone, she planted a big kiss on his head. “Another grandbaby,” she whispered, so as not to disturb his telephone conversation. “God is good.”
As she stepped into the bathroom with Brian, she looked in the mirror and thought about it for a moment. But I wonder if it’s enough to save my daughter’s failing marriage?
Chapter 10
Late Summer 1981
For two solid years, each family member took his or her turn helping Brian walk around the house – which usually meant dragging him by the arms. As he grew stronger, weekends were spent with Mama at the shore, with the old lady holding him in the salt water while he squirmed to be freed. And although everyone said it was much too early, Mama began spending hours with him at her kitchen table, tracing the alphabet and numbers from one to ten.
It was bordering on fall. Heidi and Steph ran into the house, panicked. Joan and Mama were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking Sanka and talking.
“Brian fell!” Steph yelled. “Brian just fell!”
Both women jumped up from the table and hurried for the door. “Is he hurt?” Joan asked, carrying Angie in her arms.
“No,” Heidi panted, running to catch up.
Mama slowed down. “Then all you need to do is pick him up, brush
him off and start again with him.”
“We know, Mama,” Steph said, as they reached the side of the house. “It’s what happened before he fell that you need to see.”
Ross stood behind Brian, holding his hands over his head. As the two women approached them, Ross whispered something into his brother’s ear and then let go of his hands. “Go see Mom, Brian,” he said, his voice cracking.
Both women froze in place and, for a moment, Brian did the same. Then, he wobbled once, steadied himself and with the biggest smile, he took three distinct steps before going down in the grass. His smile quickly curled into a pout and he began to cry.
Joan gasped. “Brian!” she hollered and hurried toward him.
“STOP!” Mama yelled out. “Joan, please stop.”
Joan froze. She looked down at her crying son and then looked up at her mother with a stunned glare.
Mama’s eyes softened. “He can do it, Joan. Let him do it.” Mama then bent over and stared into Brian’s eyes. “No more tears, Brian. You’re a big boy. Now get up and walk.”
Brian returned his stern grandmother’s gaze and in that one moment, it was as if a sacred secret had been shared between them. Without another whimper, he pulled himself up to his knees. It took a few seconds before he could get his balance, but once he got to his feet, he just took off – one miraculous step after the other.
“Brian!” Joan screamed out again. In one sudden motion, she put Angie down and scooped up Brian once he finally went down. “Mommy’s so proud of you. I love you so much!” She kissed his cheeks a half dozen times before turning him to face his grandmother. “Now, go walk to Mama,” she whispered in his ear, the tears streaming down her face. “She’s been waiting a long time to catch you.”
Mama dropped to her brittle knees and spread her arms wide. “Come fly to Mama, little butterfly,” she wept.
At nearly five years old, Brian placed one foot in front of the other until he’d made six solid steps. Mama caught him as he was going down. “Stupid doctor,” she cried. “Stupid, stupid, stupid doctor!” Brian looked up from the safety of her arms and smiled. Mama collapsed to the ground with him, smothering him in kisses, hugs and tears. While Angie ran to them, Joan, Ross, Heidi and Steph joined them on the ground – crying, laughing and celebrating one of God’s great miracles.
Steph said, “But the doctor said Brian would never…”
Mama kissed the crucifix around her neck and shook her head. “Doctors can’t measure heart, faith, love or the strength of the human will – Brian’s or any of ours.” She wiped her eyes. “I told you all along…when Brian’s ready, he’ll walk. His heart will tell us when.” She kissed the little boy. “And he picked today.”
“I can’t wait to tell Frank,” Joan squealed, and rubbed noses with Brian. “You just wait ‘til your daddy sees you strutting around.”
After the little boy marched between Joan and Mama like some toy soldier, Mama sneaked off into the house and called Uncle Sal to tell him the news. Lowering her voice, she looked out the window to ensure that no one was eavesdropping. “Listen, Sal,” she whispered, “I have an idea that I’m going to need your help with…”
That night, kneeling on her pillow, Mama finished her prayers and spoke openly with God. “Father, I have no words for the many blessings you have bestowed upon this family. Today, I have witnessed a caterpillar become a butterfly and my life is now complete. Thank you is not enough.” She blessed herself. “I love you – for all eternity.”
Three weeks to the day that Brian walked for the first time, Mama hosted a carnival in her backyard. She had invited everyone to a cookout but arranged a surprise carnival instead. Only Uncle Sal knew her secret.
She’d gone to the Five & Dime and purchased two carts filled with trinkets – stuffed animals, blow-up beach toys, posters, jump ropes, whiffle ball bats, hula hoops, Kewpie dolls, GI Joe action figures – everything she could find.
Uncle Sal’s friend owned a catering company that loaned Mama the tents, five in all. The first was set up as a pavilion of sorts located right in the middle of the midway. Long rectangular tables were covered with colorful plastic cloths, with rows of folding chairs sitting beneath them. The other tents were used for carnival games, arranged in a circular fashion around the dining area.
Balloons and a giant banner that read BRIAN’S FIRST STEPS fluttered in the salty, autumn breeze. As adults showed up to “the cookout,” Mama assigned stations. The ladies worked concession, while the gentlemen manned the game tents. A rented bounce house loomed in the corner of the yard, with pony rides on the other end. Circus music played over and over, driving the adults crazy. It was magical.
Mama had strung clotheslines within each game tent and hung a variety of toys by clothespins. Screaming kids ran from station to station, filling goodie bags.
For the first tent, Uncle Sal had cut out a block of wood and placed a large stuffed tiger on top of it. A hula hoop fit perfectly around the block, and if someone landed it, they won a large prize of their choice hanging from the clothesline. If they missed the mark, they still won a piece of candy or a smaller toy. No one could lose.
Steph rang the tiger three times, but only walked away with one prize – an inflatable shark. “This is for Brian…for the beach,” she told Mama.
The old lady hugged her and plucked an inflatable dolphin from the same clothesline. “And this one’s for you,” she said, handing her the prize, “so two kind hearts can play together.”
The second tent hosted a game that involved three softballs and an old rusted milk can. Neighborhood friends, Herbie and Arthur, ran the booth together, heckling anyone who passed by.
While she chewed on her bottom lip, Heidi tossed several dozen softballs. One bulging bag of candy later, she walked away with a giant stuffed turtle. “I’m going to name him Arthur,” she announced.
Arthur raised his hands in victory and looked at Herbie. “She likes me more than you!” he declared.
Heidi laughed. Herbie pouted.
The next tent had five of Uncle Sal’s Narragansett beer cans stacked in a pyramid, sitting atop a round plywood platform. Each player had three baseballs to knock all the gold cans off the platform and win a large prize.
With Ross’ help, Brian stepped up, grabbed a ball and dropped it two feet in front of him. Mama watched closely, as Uncle Sal let the boy take a few giant steps forward. Brian grabbed a second ball and dropped it in front of him again. In one swift motion, Uncle Sal’s arm flew out and swiped every last beer can off the shelf. “We have a winner!” he yelled, and as he reached for a stuffed animal, Mama approached – shaking her head.
“He can do it, Sal,” she told her brother before looking at her grandson. “Isn’t that right, Brian?”
The little boy grinned and picked up another ball, waiting for Uncle Sal to reset the cans.
Mama pointed at Uncle Sal and told Ross, “Don’t worry about him. He’s used to my tough love.” Ross laughed at his older uncle.
Ten long minutes later, one of the balls somehow hit the shelf and miraculously knocked down one of the cans. While everyone held their breath, it rolled and teetered until finally falling onto the ground. “Yes!” Uncle Sal yelled out. Loud applause echoed over the carnival music.
Eyes filled with tears, Sal immediately looked to his sister. With a grin, she nodded her approval. “We have a winner here!” he screamed and handed Brian the coveted stuffed monkey.
As the proud boy walked away with Ross, Sal confessed to Mama, “It’s the damndest thing, but I’ve never tried that hard for anything in my life…and it was only a cheap stuffed animal.”
“And that’s what makes Brian special,” she explained. “Nothing in this world is cheap to him. He has to fight for everything he gets, and that makes everything priceless.” She smiled. “Even a stuffed monkey.”
The final tent simply hosted a dart board, three darts, and the adult who felt the most courageous at the time. Even though Frank wasn’t th
rilled about the massive celebration, he eventually came around and was happy to accept the dangerous duty for a good part of the day.
At the concession stand, the ladies grilled hot dogs, smothered in mustard, onions, and Mama’s own Coney Island sauce. There were brown paper bags filled with peanuts and rows of plastic cups filled with freshly squeezed lemonade. They also handed out cotton candy and pink sugary popcorn donated by McRay’s Clam Shack.
It wasn’t long before the gossip began. “What do you think about Lady Diana marrying Prince Charles?” Joan asked Bev.
“If you ask me, she could do better.”
They both laughed.
“And it looks like Iran may finally release those poor American hostages.”
“Poor people,” Bev agreed. “They’ve been held captive for over four hundred days now, right?”
“Those poor people,” Joan said.
“Bob says we should blow Iran right off the map…except that gas prices are already at $1.25, so who knows how high they might go.”
“I’m not sure we should blow anyone off the map,” Joan said. “Poor Uncle Sal might have to trade in his Cadillac if gas goes up again,” she joked.
They laughed some more and then filled an order for six hot dogs with the works.
Cousin Margaret, one of the older family members, turned to Mama and asked, “Why all this, Angela? It’s not like…”
“Brian has defied all the odds,” Mama interrupted, “so I can’t imagine a better reason to celebrate.” She scanned the yard to see everyone having the time of their lives. She nodded. “I don’t want Brian – or anyone else in this family – to ever forget what he’s accomplished…that God let him walk.”
Everyone was invited – family, friends, the entire neighborhood. This wasn’t all that unusual. It was a very loving community. Like one large family, each person was welcome into the other’s house. If you weren’t from the neighborhood, though, you’d be spotted from a mile out. Who’s that? Who’d they come to see? everyone would wonder. And even though they’d shoot a smile, outsiders weren’t entirely welcome. But this day was different.
Goodnight, Brian Page 8
