Southern Belles, a Novel About Love, Purpose & Second Chances (9781310340970)

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Southern Belles, a Novel About Love, Purpose & Second Chances (9781310340970) Page 10

by Anderson, Sarah


  The long drive home kept me quiet. I watched the barren fields as we drove by. They had already been harvested and nothing but a few stalks remained, here and there. Small sleepy towns snuck by us as we made our way home. The sky was a drab grey and nothing spoke of life or the happiness I once knew. As we got closer to home, my heart picked up. I didn’t have to tell them the minute I saw them but I needed to tell them soon. From my profile my belly now protruded a small bump. I figured I’d wear my over-sized University of Georgia hoodie until I managed to tell them. It and sweats were the most comfortable clothes I had at this point. Most of my jeans had gotten to snug to wear and I didn’t have the extra money to be buying new ones until I absolutely needed to. I needed to save the little remaining money I had left over, which had been reserved for school, for the baby.

  As usual, my mother was waiting on the porch, waving, with a smile a mile wide, and her dimples a mile deep. She looked so happy to see us. I felt my heart thump heavier and heavier. I needed to be careful when I hugged her so she didn’t feel the baby bump, just yet. Walking out on the porch next was Richie patting his belly with both hands.

  “What is he doing?” CeCe said, as she spotted him.

  “I don’t know but I’m going to kill him. He is having too much fun with this while I am freaked beyond all get out.” I said feeling my heart in my throat at this point.

  “Well let me know when you tell them. I can always come and pick you up and we can go to Trixie Rox if you need to get out. Besides, it’ll be good to see Tru and have some chocolate milkshakes and cheesy fries. Actually, I read something that said that babies need chocolate and cheese to grow strong and healthy.” She said, nodding.

  “You mean dairy products?”

  “Yea, maybe something like that. It’s all the same.” She nodded again.

  “Okay CeCe, thanks for the baby advice. That sounds good—I’m craving chocolate and cheese fries sound really good.”

  “Just call me then. I will help you with the bags—do not pick up the heavy ones.” She demanded.

  “Okay, fine.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Buchanan! Richie can you come and get Char’s bags?” CeCe said, smiling with her arms open to hug both of them.

  “Hi girls, I’m so glad you’re home. We have a whole month now before you have to go back. CeCe you’ll have to come over for some peach pie. I made one for you to take home to your parents and more so you’ll come back over here before you leave again.” My mother said, beaming.

  Richie hugged me tightly and felt the baby bump push up against his belly. He pulled back and smiled. “Mom, I think Char’s finally gained some weight.”

  “Good, she needed to—Miss Skinny Bones,” my mother said, hugging me tightly.

  I pressed my chest into her hug and tried to suck in my tummy so she didn’t notice anything different, other than my bigger boobs. She slapped a few kisses on me and then took my hand dragging me inside, leaving Richie to bring everything else in. He deserved it for his comments that reminded me what the nausea felt like—that stinker.

  Though Christmas was still a week away my mother had already begun making cookies and special pastries. She and I loved Christmas. It was our time to spend together, in the kitchen, making mouth-watering confections that were irresistible. I knew how to cook a few things that my mom taught me but I was a much better baker. I had very fond memories of her, Evi, and I in the kitchen, singing and rolling out cookie dough while sweet-smelling aromas drifted through the house luring my father and brothers for a taste. I wished I could go back to those times. They were good times when I didn’t have to worry about a baby on the way, how I was going to tell my parents about my one-night stand that’s making them young grandparents and when Evi held me in her lap and told me fairy tales that made everything magical.

  I picked up a shortbread cookie freshly frosted with lemon icing. It fell apart in my mouth and the lemon glaze oozed with citrusy goodness. As fast as I swallowed the cookie, I picked up two more indulgences—this time a chocolate hazelnut espresso cookie and a chocolate truffle. The truffle was like chocolate silk running down my throat. It was smooth and creamy. I loved anything with hazelnuts and chocolate, however, the coffee flavor grabbed my attention. I had slowly been getting more energy over the last few weeks. Drinking coffee, something I rarely did before, helped give me an extra boost. I decided to search for a cup to grab some coffee when my mother looked at me strangely. I found a half pot, of what smelled like French Roast, on the warmer.

  “Since when did you start drinking coffee?” My mother asked.

  “Since I had to stay up late studying, really hard to make that 4.0 you were bragging about at Thanksgiving.”

  “Ahhh, that makes sense. I didn’t start drinking coffee until I had the twins and then that was the only thing that gave me enough fuel to keep up with those crazy boys.” She said smiling.

  “You let me know what kind you like and I will make sure to get some for you to take back to school.” She said while rolling out some dough for rainbow colored pinwheel cookies.

  “Thanks mom.” I said holding the cup up to my mouth trying to not make direct eye contact.

  I shuddered to think about my mom and dad’s response to learn of their only, unwed, daughter’s pregnancy—with their first grandbaby. The coffee, black, tasted good and helped to clear the remaining bits of chocolate and hazelnuts in my mouth.

  “Ah ha! There’s my girl!” My father said warmly as he came in briskly to welcome me home.

  “Coffee? That’s a new development.” He questioned as he reached down to hug me and kiss my forehead.

  “It helps keep her 4.0 GPA honey. I already told her that we would be happy to send her back with a few cases.” My mother smiled as she rolled the pinwheel dough into some cellophane to freeze.

  “Huh. Didn’t you start drinking coffee when you were pregnant Suez?” He looked at her and then at me as he stuffed a cookie in his mouth. “Are you pregnant Char?” He said looking serious before breaking a smile and laughing.

  “Richard! Don’t mess with Char. She just got through with finals.” She frowned.

  Barely breathing, I managed a forced smile. “Dad! Gees’! I just got home.”

  He hugged my neck, again, before grabbing two more cookies and leaving for the living room.

  That night I lay in bed rehearsing my script. I had thought about it every night since I found out I was pregnant. I almost wished I would have said something when he was teasing me earlier since he was in a good mood. I rolled over and propped a little pillow under my belly bump. My curtains were drawn and I could see hints of the moon peering in. My mind wandered back to that night. It was all a memory now—one that was fading quickly. At times, I could still make out his face. My mind was better at recalling his words and how I felt with him. I wondered if the baby would look like him, maybe his smile or his eyes. I felt my heart sink as I thought about where he might be tonight. Who was he with? Was he okay? Did something happen to him—is that why I never heard back from him? Is he still alive? These questions and many more ran through my thoughts as I watched the clouds pass over the moon which was now coming into full view from where I lay in bed. Maybe, he would come back and look for me. He knew I lived in St. Marys and everyone knew me. They didn’t know Lucy, though, the dumb name I told him that night. I should have told him my real name when I had the chance. I knew he was overseas if he were still alive. He would be at school now but what if he came back for the holidays? They had a beach house somewhere outside of St. Marys. They could come back for Christmas.

  When I was young and lying in bed at night I’d pretend to be Sleeping Beauty and that my Prince Charming was searching all over the woods before finding me asleep in my bed. I pretended that all my stuffed animals, tucked in with me, were the animals of the forest keeping watch. Prince Charming would come to my bedside and tell me how much he loved me. He told me that he wanted to spend his forever with me. I pretended that he kissed me and I
awoke with a smile. Now, more than ten years later, I wished that my real Prince Charming would come find me. That he’d tell me that he had searched high and low for his true love. I closed my eyes and envisioned a happily ever after with Skylar.

  I awoke the morning of Christmas Eve to a light frost on the windows. I could hear clatter coming from downstairs. I had been home for over a week and hadn’t worked up the nerve to tell my parents. I had made an appointment, while I was still in Athens, to meet with an OBGYN the week after Christmas. I needed to tell my parents before then. I was going to need to use their vehicle to get to the appointment unless I had Richie drive me. It was getting harder to find the courage to tell them. Everything was so good, for now. My parents were spoiling me after missing me for the last four months. Tonight we would have a house full of family to celebrate. My family had always celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve. Every year was the same and every year I looked forward to this day more than any other. Not for the presents we were showered with but for the fun we had together. We started with a big sit-down dinner. Next, my father would read the story of Jesus’ birth; followed by a very long prayer—something we thought he did to keep us waiting longer for the presents. All the seats in the living room were taken up by people. The floor was full of more people and presents. During the story, I would catch my brothers shooting spit wads at Uncle Harry, who always fell asleep. Our dad was so engrossed in the reading that he never took notice of the chuckles from us or the snoring from Uncle Harry. Mom laughed and shook her head. Uncle Harry was a good sport. He kept a straw in his back pocket to retaliate against the younger hooligans. It was as if he fell asleep on purpose just waiting for the moment they’d attack so he could shoot back. His straw was usually pre-loaded and ready to go at the first ping against his balding forehead. One year he even prepared a small plastic baggie with flour that exploded on Jason’s head causing a large white cloud all over. We almost all died laughing trying to conceal ourselves while dad continued reading with all seriousness. Whenever my dad looked up from reading the Bible story everything was still. It was fun to see who got caught in the cross-fire. Once Grandma Rose got a wet wad of paper stuck in her hair—which was meant for Peter. She grabbed a couch cushion and surprise-attacked Jason who shot at Peter—whom was sitting next to Grandma Rose. Poor Jason always got it the worst; but then again he is quite the instigator.

  After the story, the long-awaited present opening began. Each year we switched who got to go first. My mom handed out presents to everyone. Then either the oldest person down to the youngest would take turns opening their presents or the youngest to the oldest got to start. After the presents were opened and the paper picked up, we did a ten dollar gift exchange game. We drew numbers of who could pick first and everyone got a number telling them what order they were to pick a present. The fun started when someone chose to steal someone else’s present. We had to make a rule of a maximum of three steals because sometimes the same gift got picked over and over again. After the last person picked their gift or stole from someone else, the first person who went was allowed to steal anyone’s gift which hadn’t been stolen three times. We laughed at some of the ridiculous steals and alliances people made for stealing other’s gifts so they could ultimately end up with what they wanted most. After the game was over, we snacked on endless trays of goodies until we left for midnight mass. That was one of my favorite places to be on Christmas. The church was always decked out in beautiful white lights, Douglas Fur trim, candles and beautiful trees adorned with an array of glass bulbs. They kept the main lights off and led the mass by candlelight and the glow from the tree lights. It seemed like half the town packed in on that one night—causing an overflow with most of the younger people left to sit in the balcony section. CeCe, Richie, and I mostly joked around and people watched from up there. The hymns, from that part of the church, floated up in an ethereal accord. The night ended with most of my siblings and I on the couch watching movies until we passed out. Christmas Day was another day for socializing with family and feasting on fine foods.

  “Char, when are you going to…you know say something?” Richie asked quietly as he snuck in and jumped on my bed.

  “I don’t know. I know I need to say something soon. It’s just been so nice to forget about it for a little while.”

  “Yeah, you probably need to say something before the baby pops out on the living room floor.”

  “You’re ridiculous Richie.”

  “I know.”

  “I have an appointment next week at a new OBGYN in the area. I have to say something before then to mom and dad. I might be able to find out the sex of the baby by then and I’d like someone to go with…maybe you or mom.”

  “I can go with you if you’re still alive.” Richie smiled.

  “I need you to help me tell them. I just don’t think I can do it myself.”

  “Char, you know I’ll help you.”

  “Thank you.”

  For most of the day I remained silent, contemplating when I would tell them. I didn’t want to do it with everyone there at dinner, although, maybe they would be less likely to choke me if there were witnesses. I thought about it for a moment and then worried about grandma having a heart attack. That would be a crummy present for Christmas. I helped my mother wrap the remainder of presents for others and for the present exchange game. I enjoyed making things look pretty and wrapping presents was comforting. I liked making pretty bows and fancy tags for the gifts. I wanted everyone to feel special when they got their presents and I felt that pretty packages would show them that they are that much more loved. I had already had a countless number of cookies and was starting to feel my throat burning. I had the worst heartburn. I had never known what it was until I became pregnant. My doctor said it was normal but nonetheless, a nuisance.

  After the presents were done hours later, I helped my Aunt Juanita set the dining table. Once my dad put in the table leafs we had enough seating for fourteen. Everyone else, mostly the younger ones, sat at the kids table nearby.

  “Mom, how many are coming for dinner tonight?” I asked.

  “Honey please set the adult’s table for 14 and the kid’s table for 10 please. Wait a minute. Let me count again and you tell me how many that is.” She said counting in her head pointing at invisible names in the air.

  I grabbed a large stack of plain white ceramic plates and waited for her to start rattling off names.

  “Okay, there are seven of us plus Edward and Peter are bringing Courtney and Chelsea—so that’s nine. Then, of course, there is Grandma Evi, Aunt Juanita, Grandma Rose and Bo, her friend—so that’s another four. Uncle Dallas, Aunt Renee and their four kids, Uncle Harry and Aunt Dottie and their three. How many is that?” She asked, looking at me.

  “Altogether that’s twenty-four people, mom.”

  “Oh, I forgot Father John—the Upton’s are out of town this year. They are vacationing in the Bahamas for Christmas and I didn’t want him to be alone.” She added.

  Almost dropping the plates on the floor I quickly scrambled to keep them from tumbling out of my arms. I hadn’t talked with Father John yet. I had pushed it aside and never confessed to him, despite saying I would, and that was before I found out I was carrying a passenger in my belly.

  “Oh, that makes twenty-five then.” I said while placing plates around the large oak table.

  “People should start arriving just about any time now.” My mom called out to Aunt Juanita and I. The bread will be done in just a few minutes and then we can put that on the table. Char, will you get out the matching tablecloth napkins for the bread basket and for the table settings?”

  “Sure mom.”

  “Thanks honey.”

  “So, you never did tell me how you like school.” My Aunt Juanita said as we worked to make the table look pretty.

  “I do. It was hard work and I missed you guys being so far away.”

  “That’s normal. I love to travel but it’s always good to come ho
me.” My Aunt Juanita said as she straightened the silverware settings around the table. “What classes are you taking next semester Char?”

  “Umm, I’m not sure yet.” I nearly choked.

  “Honey, didn’t you get your classes before you left school?” My mom said, stopping what she was doing for a moment to look at me.

  “No, I have to get them when I get back.”

  “Oh, I thought CeCe said she got hers already.” She said still looking at me.

  “She did—I was just so busy with finals that I didn’t get a chance to register before we left.”

  “Are you going to be able to get the classes you need if you wait until you go back, honey?” My mom asked, now paused completely.

  “I should be fine. I can always meet with an advisor or registrar to get the classes I need.”

  She was asking so many questions. It was like firing bullet after bullet with nowhere to hide. I was afraid at any minute I’d get hit with something that would make me spew the truth. I decided to go to the bathroom quickly to avoid the conversation going anywhere else I didn’t want it to.

  “Mom, I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom.”

  Sneaking upstairs, I grabbed Richie by the back of his collar and dragged him with.

  “I think mom knows something.” I said nervously to Richie.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because she keeps asking me questions about school—like why I don’t have my classes for next semester and if I’m going to be able to get the classes I need if I wait to register.” I said shaking slightly.

  “Well, why didn’t you register for classes?” Richie said facetiously. “Ouch! Stop hitting me.” He snarled after I hit his shoulder.

  “You know why! I am so freaked out. What if they find out before I tell them?”

  “Char you just need to tell them. You’re stressing yourself out and I’m not an expert but all this craziness is probably not good for the baby either.” He said, with his head tilted and arms crossed.

 

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