We had expected Wessy around the middle to last part of January, and he’d come in the tail end of December. Now it was New Year’s Eve and I’d be in the hospital. It got me to worrying about what Shay would do without me there.
One good thing, I got a roommate. Katie Palmer. She and her husband, Jim, were the same age as Shay and I, and they had a little boy as well. So we had some things in common. It was about 1 in the afternoon on the 31st and both of our husbands were there, the babies with us. I told Shay I was sorry our big New Year’s Eve Party had been squelched.
“Don’t worry about it, Callie, there’s always next year,” said Shay. Then he excused himself and was gone for about half an hour. I was starting to get a little worried, when he reappeared. He exchanged a few words with Katie’s husband, that I didn’t catch, and the two left the room together. We heard their voices in the hall, but not what they were saying. We exchanged looks.
“Men,” said Katie. “Who can figure them out?”
Around 5 p.m. our dinner trays came and there were two extra trays. How sweet, they brought supper for Jim and Shay; that was fun. The four of us ate together and told each other stories, laughed a lot.
They came to pick up the empty trays at 6:00. I hadn’t eaten much, I was starting to feel anxious; visiting hours were over at 8:30, and I knew Shay would be leaving for the night (this was a Catholic Hospital and the rules were strictly enforced.)
After they cleared away our trays, a maintenance man came into the room and installed a box on the dresser that looked like a record player. I didn’t give it much thought; figured maybe the hospital just did that on holidays. Then two guys brought in a round table and placed it in the corner of the room. Guess this was just hospital routine. My thoughts were on Shay and what he would be doing while the whole world partied.
“Callie, don’t be so tense,” said Shay, holding my hand. “Relax! It’s Saturday night and you and Wessy are coming home Monday morning. That’s not far off.”
I smiled weakly, thinking: Yes, but before that Shay Westover will be out on the town alone on New Years Eve. There would be some awfully happy women out there. Plus, I’d be spending another night without his body next to mine. I wanted him close, to feel his heart beating, my head on his chest.
At 8:00 (I knew the exact time, because I was watching the clock,) the door to our room opened. It was Cookie and Joe. They had several boxes with them and they were all smiles. It took them several trips to bring in all their boxes. (Cookie, of course, had already been there several times. She had knitted Wessy a little mint-green blanket and a matching sweater, hat and booties.)
“What’s all this?” I asked.
Cookie just smiled and began unpacking the boxes. What emerged was a red tablecloth, which Cookie smoothed over the round table the men had brought in earlier. She also unpacked a vase with fresh winter flowers from the hot house, a small punch bowl with six stemmed, crystal glasses; three food trays with sandwiches; turkey, ham salad, roast beef and a huge bowl of chips; her famous dip, a tray of cookies and fudge, and two huge jars filled with her wonderful Christmas punch. She poured one jar into the punch bowl and sat the other on the counter.
“For a refill,” she said. Then I saw her wink at Shay as she turned around and poured a clear liquid into the stored punch, spiking it with a little Vodka. She knew the hospital rules, but she always referred to broken rules as God’s rules.
Then she said, “Okay, husbands, you can give your wives their gifts now.”
Katie and I looked at each other, as each of our husbands handed us a box.
I unwrapped mine excitedly and inside was the most beautiful, soft, baby-blue silk spaghetti-strap nightgown. I looked at Shay, beaming. He nodded towards the bathroom.
“Try it on,” he said.
Katie had gotten a gauzy peach-pink dressing gown, and she went with Jim to another bathroom to change.
Shay helped me to the shower, where he steadied me with his strong arms. Then he dried me and helped me get into the gown. I sat down on a chair and he towel dried my hair and brushed it out, then took his fingers and made little wet curls. He put on fresh lotions and I sat at the vanity and did my makeup. I really didn’t know what was happening for sure, but I was pretty sure I liked it.
“Shay, what’s going on?” I asked. “Tell me.”
“No,” he said, “but the nurse will,” and he called the nurse’s station.
Minutes later, a little nun appeared in our room.
“Ladies,” she said, “you are spending New Year’s Eve with your husbands.” She put her hand on Shay’s shoulder. “Your Shay here made arrangements for this room to be a private room tonight, so the four of you can bring in the New Year with each other! This is your night, ladies.” She looked from Shay to Jim. “Husbands, you have till 1 a.m. and then you’re out of here!”
Shay winked at the little nun, who was about sixty years old, and said, “Sister, please have one drink with us before you leave.”
She willingly agreed. I sat in my bed looking on as Shay got three stemmed glasses, filled them from the spiked punch jar, and handed one to Jim, one to the sister and picked the last one up himself. They toasted to a wonderful New Year for the new babies, the mothers and the all people in the world; then drank up.
My eyes widened as I saw the little nun thoroughly enjoy her drink. She winked at Shay and said, “That’s just what I needed.”
Then she looked at me and said, “You have one fantastic guy here, Kathrine. If I was forty years younger and not married to God, I’d keep this one for myself!”
We all grinned.
"You all have fun this evening,” she said as she backed towards the door. “But I don’t want to find you two ladies back here in nine months!”
We all laughed. I felt a flood of relief as Shay smiled at me over his glass. We had a wonderful night; our husbands lay in bed with us while we laughed and talked and drank Cookie’s punch. At midnight, Shay gave me a long, gentle kiss in his usual sensuous way—one arm around my back, the other hand cradling my neck, his fingers partially in my hair.
“You make my world, Callie,” he said as 1966 began. “I love you more than life.”
I had worried all day for nothing. Shay could be so trying at times, but then he could do things like this that were just magical.
***
Wessy and I were discharged from the hospital on Monday morning. I was anxious to go to Mom and Dad’s. When we got there, Shay opened the car door for me and took the baby as I crawled out slowly. Thank goodness he took Wessy, because Kelly came running out and jumped up into my arms. Behind her, our dear friend Marge came dashing towards me.
Marge lived next door and only had one arm, but that lady could do anything. She had made my five-tier wedding cake in white and Wedgewood blue, with pillars and swans; a fantastic cake that everyone had marveled at.
“For the baby!” she grinned, and handed me a box. I took it, smiling, thanking her, as Kelly clung to my neck.
Mom asked if I wanted to stay a few days so she could help me, and before I could answer, Shay said, “Thank you for your offer, Marie, but she’s going home with me. She’ll have plenty of help, and I’ll take care of them.”
“Mom, maybe Kelly should stay a few extra days,” I began.
“No,” Shay said, “she’s been gone four days and it’s time for her to go home and sleep in her own bed.”
Well, he didn’t leave much room for debate, so off to Westover we went; our little family with its one new member.
When we got there everyone was grinning from ear to ear. They had put up a banner that said: “Welcome Home Kathrine, Kelly and Wesley!!” That was sweet, I thought; bet Cookie had a hand in that one.
They had Wessy’s bassinet set up in the family room, and after everyone had taken turns holding him and making baby talk, I finally got him settled in back in his bassinet. I didn’t want to make a hotbox out of him—I had read that if a baby is exposed to cooler a
ir they get colds less—so I covered him with a light receiving blanket.
Well, every time I left the room, when I came back he had his heavy knitted blanket covering him. Finally, I said, “Who is covering Wessy with this heavy blanket?” and everyone started laughing. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Well,” said Maggie, “every time you leave the room Shay gets up and goes over and checks the baby and covers him with the heavy blanket.”
Sterling added, “He says, ‘Damn, poor baby, that woman is going to let you freeze, but Daddy’s here.’”
I laughed too, now that I was in on the joke. They had all watched the new daddy in action and were totally cracking up.
We were kind of a comic team, as a couple, I guess. I remember one night before Wessy was born, Shay and I ran into Sterling and Maggie and their best friends at the club. Of course, Shay had had several drinks. They said they were going to The Village Inn for an early breakfast, and they asked us to join them. So we met them there and I ordered a pork chop and hash browns. When it came, I took my fork, lifted the pork chop up and looked under it.
“What the hell are you looking for under there, woman?” Shay had remarked. “Why are you looking under the damn pork? What do you think is under there? I just want to know, I just want to know who picks up their damn pork chop and looks under it. Did you find anything under there?” Shay sat there just shaking his head with a ‘what the hell?’ look on his face.
By now everyone at the table was laughing hard, even the waitresses. He kept a serious face and I kept a straight face with my head sort of down, because I was being scolded about my pork chop, but laughing on the inside.
The Westovers could be really fun sometimes. It seemed to take liquor to make them funny, but I took the laughs where they came.
***
Wessy woke twice a night for a bottle, and Shay said if I set the bottles out for him at room temperature, he’d do the second feed, if I did the first. This was great, and it went on for about two weeks. Then one particular night I was so tired that when Wessy started crying for his first bottle, I nudged Shay and said, “Wessy needs his bottle.”
“Already? Seems like I just went to sleep.”
“Yeah, well he’s fussing and it’s your turn,” I said, and, without further coaxing, Shay got up and went into the nursery.
“Sneaky. Real sneaky, princess,” he said when he got back into bed. “There were two bottles in there, and you know what that means! Trying to pass your feeding onto me. Real nice. Maybe now you can just have all the feedings. Up, woman, go feed the baby.”
Damn! I thought. How stupid of me not to have hidden the other bottle. After that, nightly feedings became all mine.
1966
The Tanning of The Shrew
We didn’t get much snow that winter, just the one blizzard when I slipped and fell on my back. January and February where very cold, I stayed home most of that time. Mom and Dad came out to see us and play with the kids. Friends came over to play cards, but I didn't like playing cards and usually got my way, so we’d play board games. Shay went out about three nights every month by himself to relax with the guys and have a few—well, anyway that was his story. Sex had resumed in our lives four days after I got home from the hospital. I wanted to use birth control but Shay said he had his own method of birth control; he called it “the pull-out method.” I’m thinking: we were practicing your “pull-out” method when I got pregnant with Wessy. Oh well.
We were getting back into lovemaking and it was great, only one thing was wrong; Shay wasn't pulling out like he said he would.
“Shay,” I said. “Don't get me pregnant, I need to rest. I have two babies, two years apart.” Well, that fell on deaf ears, as Shay was in control and, as the song goes, he did it his way.
We were able to take Samson and Sunset for a ride almost every evening. Cookie or Maggie would watch the kids, and Lucas, who managed the stable, usually saddled the horses up for us around 3:30 in the afternoon. Shay would come to the house for an afternoon delight, and a horseback ride would follow.
I will remember this one particular day for the rest of my life.
Shay had showered and was dressing to go riding, when he told me casually that Sterling had hired a new hand. He said they had three kids, so they were moving into the three-bedroom house Shay had said he would remodel for us.
“What!” I yelled, and I yelled it loud. “You promised me we could move into our own house within a year! What a damn lie that was. Screw you, Shay!”
He wasn’t getting away with that. I ran down the stairs to sit out on the front porch and cool down.
I was wearing very tight blue jeans with bell-bottom legs (back to my regular 102 pounds, no baby weight,) western boots, a western shirt with a navy blue sweatshirt over a western plaid shirt with the collar out. Shay and I usually wore similar outfits when we went riding, but not matching clothes. Some people did that back then, but we didn't. We always put a western hanky scarf around our necks so if the wind picked up we could cover part of our face.
Shay came out and he was a little miffed, himself.
"Well, spoiled brat, I don’t like you calling me a liar and what did I tell you about swearing and yelling like that? And with the kids down for their naps; you had just better straighten your little spoiled self up, missy, or I'll straighten you out!”
"Oh, you’re such a tough guy, you really scare me.” I said sarcastically. “I want to know. Are we or aren’t we moving to that three bedroom house this summer?"
“I don't know,” he said, looking down.
At this moment Lucas pulled up the circle drive in his pickup and said, "Hey, the horses are saddled and ready to go.”
Shay walked up to the pickup to talk to Lucas. Oh, I was still so pissed, I took off running to the stable—and that was quite a jaunt! I heard Shay yelling after me, "You wait for me, Callie!"
Screw him, I thought, and kept running. The big stable door was open and I got Sunset out of her stall, mounted up and off we went. I started running her down the little straight road at a very fast pace, then around the curve toward the lake. I was actually riding too fast for my abilities, but I was on an adrenaline high. I must have gone at least a mile, maybe two, when I turned around and saw Shay gaining on me with Samson. How the hell did he get behind me so fast? Lucas must have given him a ride to the barn.
Before long, Shay was beside me on my right side. He grabbed Sunset's halter and slowly brought us both to a stop. Now, these were two wonderful horses, Samson and Sunset, because if you got off them, they stayed right where they were. They were trained to never run off. Samson even came when Shay whistled for him; he’d come right to Shay and Sunset would follow Samson.
Well, Shay threw his leg across his saddle and jumped off Samson real fast. I’d already jumped off Sunset and started running toward an old tree that had fallen years ago, when I felt Shay’s hand grab my arm. He pulled me over to the old tree trunk, sat down, flipped me over his knee and wacked my bottom with his hand about five or six times. The whacks were loud because my jeans were so tight. Then he stood me up, got up and started walking back toward the horses.
"Get over here—" he started to say, but I interrupted him with a snide laugh.
“Ha ha ha! That didn't even hurt! I didn't even feel that," I boasted.
Gosh, what a smart mouth. But really, it hadn’t. It was just like clapping your hands; doesn't hurt, just makes noise. But how embarrassing! I had never been spanked in my life and I wasn't going to let Shay think he'd won. How dare he do that to me, I thought to myself.
Right as I finished my little “Ha ha ha, that didn't even hurt,” Shay whirled around and said, "Well, I think I can fix that, princess."
He grabbed me, sat down on the tree, unbuttoned my jeans, pulled them down, pulled me over his knee, and proceeded to spank my bare bottom.
Well, now let me tell you, this was a little different. I was starting to feel these swats. I tried to shi
eld my bottom with my hands, at which time Shay stopped spanking me, gathered my hands together behind my back, and continued the swats.
"Ouch, ouch, stop it, stop it you bastard!" I yelled.
That was another mistake, calling Shay a bastard. Now there were some additional swats for that swear word, and these swats had some sting to them.
Finally, I relented, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't do it again."
When I said that Shay quit swatting my bottom. Guess he was waiting for the ‘I'm sorry.’ I stood up slowly, rubbing my bottom.
"Pull your jeans up, get over here and walk this horse, you've got to cool her out,” Shay ordered. “Walk her a bit, then let her drink a little water, then walk her some more."
Glad we were near the lake. My, you could have cut the silence with a knife. I was keeping my mouth shut. Those 10 or 12 swats had made an impression on me. I realized for the first time Shay really was the boss and maybe I had better not be such a sass mouth. I never ever wanted another spanking from that man. In my lifetime, one was enough.
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