by Linda Ellen
“Goodness! Talk about best laid plans going awry,” Goldie laughed. “What can I do to help?”
Louise looked around and offered, “Make drinks, I guess. Go in and ask everybody what they want?”
“Your wish is my command,” Goldie quipped as she turned on her heel and went into the other room.
Just then, the timer buzzed and Louise opened the oven door. Realizing the turkey needed to come out of the oven, she grabbed two oven mitts without giving it a second thought and bent over grasping hold of the edges of the large pan. With a tug, she pulled it forward and was just picking it up when Vic stepped through the kitchen doorway.
“Babe!” he hollered, hurrying to her side. “What are you doin’? Why didn’t you call for me?” he scolded as he grabbed two towels and quickly relieved his straining wife of her burden. Her face plainly showed discomfort as he set the heavy roaster on top of the stove before dropping the towels and turning to take her by the arms.
“You okay? You hurt yourself, didn’t ya,” he stated accusingly.
She had, indeed, felt a sharp twinge, but as she stood still massaging the area, the pain slowly dissipated. “Yes, but…I…I think I’m okay…”
Taking charge, Vic steered her over to the table refusing to take no for an answer. “You sit here and rest. We’ll get everything on,” he ordered as Goldie entered the kitchen again.
“Louise! What happened?”
“She took the turkey out of the oven,” Vic informed her, in truth, a bit in anger, and a lot in worry. “She said she felt a twinge.”
“Oh Louise…”
“I’m all right. Don’t fuss,” Louise griped in embarrassed frustration, shooing them away and toward the stove. “Everything’s going to get cold and be no good…”
“Okay, okay. Relax Mary Lou,” Vic teased as his tension began to subside seeing that the danger seemed to have passed. Louise managed to smile up at him.
Then, the others came into the kitchen and everyone, except Lilly, helped to get the meal on the table and brought extra chairs in for their guests. Vic made short work of carving the juicy turkey.
Ten minutes later, the family was seated comfortably; inhaling the delicious scent from steaming bowls of food on the table as they all joined hands. Vic bowed his head and the others followed suit as he mumbled a short blessing over the meal.
When he finished and everyone echoed Amen, they began dishing food onto their plates and passing the bowls. In spite of all of the setbacks – the Thanksgiving meal was delicious, so everyone agreed as they started to dig in.
“Want me to help you, Grandma?” Jimmy asked sweetly, poised with the bowl of mashed potatoes in his hand.
Lilly smiled fondly at him, quipping, “I think you’d better, honey. I don’t think I’ll be able to manage a boarding house reach right now.”
“Huh? What’s that?” he asked, scrunching up his nose as he plopped a good amount of the thick, fluffy potatoes on her plate.
Glancing at him with twinkling eyes, she mused, “Oh, that’s what you do when you live in a boarding house with lots of other people and only so much food. Nobody waits to be served. When the landlord sits down and says, “Let’s eat,” you reach out and snatch whatever you can get or go hungry.”
Tommy grinned across the table at her. “Sing us the boarding house song, Grandma.”
She met his gaze with a sparkle in her eyes. “You mean…Bread and Gravy?”
The teen nodded as he passed the bowl of stuffing, remembering the many nights when he was a child and she had sung the song to him while rocking him to sleep.
Lilly looked around the table and noting the confused expressions on Al and Goldie’s faces, explained that the ditty was about a landlord with an attitude during the Great Depression, and that those who lived through the hard times, scarcities, and lack could laugh about it now.
Clearing her throat, she began to sing the chorus, “On Monday we had bread and gravy. On Tuesday twas gravy and bread. On Wednesday and Thursday, twas gravy on toast – but that’s only gravy on bread. By Friday, we said to the landlord, ‘Can’t we have something else instead?’ So on Saturday morn, as if nothing was said – we had gravy…without any bread!”
Everyone laughed at the silly song and Lilly’s sing/song delivery. “Sing it again, Grandma!” Jimmy hollered above the din.
As Vic laughed along with the rest, he glanced at his wife sitting at his left. He was so relieved to see that she seemed to be all right after the fright he had experienced seeing her with the huge turkey roaster in her hands.
“I remember days as a child when it was about that bad,” she chuckled as she reached for his hand.
“Me, too,” Vic murmured.
“I remember me and Billy stayed with Daddy for a couple of weeks one winter in Bowling Green,” Louise recalled, meeting Lilly’s eyes. “The boarding house we stayed at was a little better than that, but not much. The only heat in our room was a pot-bellied stove that burned coal, and I remember me and Billy walking along the railroad tracks and finding pieces of coal to bring back and heat the room. Even with the stove going, it was still so cold in there you could see your breath,” she added, the memory causing a shiver. “I was so glad when we came back to Louisville…even though all of us had to live in one room together – at least it was warm.” She shook her head in amazement and looked around at her surroundings. “Compared to that, we live like kings, now.”
She met Vic’s gaze and they shared a loving smile.
Al noticed and he put down his fork and reached for his glass of iced tea, raising it above the table.
“A toast – to my brother and his wife and family on this fine holiday, for their comfortable home, and for a delicious meal with all the fixin’s – and more than just gravy and bread!”
The others all grasped their glasses and agreed with a chorus of, “Amen.”
Suddenly, Louise squealed, “Oh!” and bent over, spilling her glass of tea on the table.
“Oh Vic!” she gasped, both hands going to her belly to try and relieve the sharp pains zipping across.
“Louise! Is it time?” he asked worriedly, bending toward her trying to see her face.
“I…I think…” she gasped again, unable to form words as she tried to weather the contraction. Seconds later, a loud moan escaped and she raised her eyes to her husband’s.
Everyone reacted at once, and to anyone looking in the window, they would have somewhat resembled the Keystone Cops as they all jumped up from the table and ran into one another in their quest to help.
Vic reached for his wife, shouting orders for his oldest to go start the car – Tommy took off like a shot. He told Buddy to run for Louise’s coat and the boy obeyed instantly. The kitchen turned into chaos as everyone began to shout ideas for what they should do, while Lilly kept hollering that it was too soon, and Louise still had two weeks left to go.
Somehow, Vic got his cringing, moaning wife into her coat and out to the car for the trip down to the hospital. She kept repeating that she hadn’t taken the time to pack a bag yet.
It had been an eventful Thanksgiving, indeed.
‡
CHAPTER 18
The Crash
“At least your babies don’t come while you’re in the shower,” Fleet deadpanned as she and Louise sat in the kitchen a week later.
Louise nodded in response, knowing that not one, but both of Fleet’s babies had come so fast, that she had been in the shower the first time and the bathroom the second. Flashing a grin over at her friend, she quipped, “Vic would trade me in.”
“Nah, that man loves him some Mary Lou,” Fleet shook her head. “He ain’t gonna toss you out – even if you ate crackers in bed,” she added with a snort. Louise chuckled and reached over to give her friend a swat on her arm.
“I’m just glad it was a false alarm,” Louise replied as she relaxed at the kitchen table.
“Yeah, but you’ve dropped, I can tell. It won’t be long,” Fl
eet declared as she stood up to take her coffee cup to the sink. “Want me to wash these for you?” she asked, indicating the lunch dishes on the counter.
“Oh, that’d be wonderful, Fleet, thanks,” Louise replied with a smile. “Bending over really hurts my back right now, and with Mama out of commission…” she paused for a moment. “Thanks for coming over today… with Mama gone to Aunt Sis’s house to spend the day, well…”
“Say no more,” the tall honey-haired woman replied, turning on the water and letting it fill the plastic tub nestled in one side of the large sink. “Hey, how come they always call your Mom’s sister, Sis? I never heard her name, but that is some story about her and your uncle getting back together. Did you say they found a house to rent?”
“Her name’s Leona, but the whole family always called her ‘Sis’. They rented a little house across the street from Churchill Downs,” Louise answered, adding with a wry grin, “I hope Uncle Frank stays put this time, the rascal.” She shook her head, pausing for a moment as she thought about her aunt and uncle having been fully divorced and her Uncle Frank had even remarried, but when his second wife died, he and Leona had rekindled their relationship.
“Yeah, if Alec ever did something like that to me – divorce me, marry somebody else, then come back and ask me back – I don’t know if I’d take him back…much as I love that clown.”
Louise laughed and took a sip of her hot tea. “Oh sure you would, Fleet. You know you couldn’t live without him, clown or no.”
Fleet laughed and nodded in agreement. “Just don’t tell him that.”
After a few minutes, Fleet glanced over her shoulder at her friend. “Al and Goldie are really nice, aren’t they,” she stated, having talked with the couple several times over the course of their visit. Although Vic’s brother and sister-in-law had slept at their oldest sibling’s house fifteen minutes away, they had come back every day and spent time with the family. It had been the most pleasant visits Vic had experienced with either of his brothers since he had lived in Evansville all those years ago.
“Yes, they are. I’m going to miss them,” Louise sighed, thinking of the tearful goodbyes they had shared the evening before when they had left. The plan was that they were going to stop by the station and Vic would give their car a going-over before they got on the road to go back to Evansville. “I wish they could have stayed until the baby comes, but…” she sighed, reaching for the box of baby gifts Goldie had given to her the day they arrived. Pulling out a cute pair of pale yellow and white booties, which Goldie had told her she had knitted herself, she caressed the soft items.
“Those are cute. Same colors as the blanket I gave you at your shower,” Fleet called over.
“Yes…I just wish I would have gotten some items in pink…” Louise murmured, a smile coming to her face as she thought about the baby shower Fleet and Ruth had arranged in September. It was actually the first baby shower anyone had given her, because no one thought of it when she was carrying Tommy, and they meant to when she’d had Buddy, but somehow had never gotten around to it. Then when she’d had Jimmy, she used mainly hand-me-down things from Buddy.
This time around, everything was different, and only added to her steadfast belief that she was, this time, going to have her coveted girl.
Fleet laughed and shook her head, leaning to wipe her forehead with her shoulder. “You and that girl fetish of yours. I hope you’re wrong just so I can say ‘I told you so’,” she chuckled.
Reminiscent of their girlhood days, Louise teasingly stuck her tongue out at her friend, mumbling, “You’ll see – I’ll show you all.”
Fleet snorted another laugh.
“Nobody seems to understand how important this is to me…” Louise tried to explain. A look of determination crossed her face as she looked over at her friend. “You’ve got your girl, easy as pie. You just said, ‘I’d like to have a girl,’ and wham! You got her.” Placing both hands on her belly and giving it a fond caress, she went on, almost dreamily, “Everybody does. Ruth and Earl have two girls…almost everybody on this street has girls…Edna has two girls and two boys…Sonny and Sarah have two girls…Mama had three girls and three boys…heck, even Gerald and his wife have three! But I’ve got all boys!”
Fleet turned around again, pinning Louise with a look. “Well, I’ll say one thing – if it can be accomplished by sheer grit and orneriness, it’s in the bag.”
The two women shared a good laugh for a moment, and then Fleet grinned at her friend. “You’ve had a hectic couple ’a days, girl, and that doctor at the hospital told you to stay off your feet as much as possible. How ’bout you guys come over tonight for dinner. I’ll make my special lasagna that Vic likes so much.”
“Fleet, that sounds great,” Louise agreed with a tired smile. “Dial the station and bring me the phone, will you? I’ll tell Vic.”
Fleet dried her hands and walked the few steps to pick up the receiver off the bright yellow wall phone and dialed the number, then hurried over and handed it to Louise. After just a few rings, the line connected and Vic’s familiar voice answered, “Hello WAKY, Matthew’s Service Station.”
Louise laughed, remembering that her husband had mentioned he was determined to win the cash prize offered by the newest radio station in town – 790 AM, which boasted the call letters WAKY (pronounced Wacky). Since its first day on the air, when the DJ’s had played, “Flying Purple People Eater,” on repeat all day long – the station had lived up to its silly call sign. It had quickly become the city’s favorite radio station, playing all of the newest “rock and roll” hits. The contest daring listeners to actually answer their telephones in honor of the station had created much wanted publicity all over town. Vic’s friend, Charlie Borders, the manager of the Frisch’s Big Boy Restaurant next door to the station, had won a small prize of $7.90 just the week before and the two men now had a friendly competition going that Vic could win as well. Even the grand prize, which was a whopping $79.00! All you had to do was answer your telephone with “Hello WAKY,” the hope being that it was a DJ at the station calling you, and you’d win. It made it doubly hard when it was a business phone, but her intrepid husband was determined.
“Hey, handsome, it’s me,” Louise answered in a low, sultry voice, feeling better and happier than she had in quite a while.
On the other end, she heard the voice of her wonderful husband chuckling at her flirtatious greeting. “Hey Babe. How you feelin’? Any pains today? Well,” he paused and laughed, “since lunch?”
Louise laughed, also, knowing he meant since he had come home and ate lunch with her. “No, I feel fine. Wonderful, in fact,” she added, smiling up at her friend. “It’s always a good day when somebody does the dishes for me.” She winked in response to Fleet’s chuckle.
“I hear ya,” he answered and she could hear the squeak as he sat back and made himself comfortable in his office chair.
“I’m calling to see if you want to have supper at Fleet and Alec’s tonight. She’s making her famous lasagna,” she added teasingly, casting a grin over at her friend who had returned to the sink to finish up the dishes. Fleet grinned back with a wink.
“Sounds like a winner. I’ll try and take off early. Don’t have much scheduled today.”
Louise related the message to Fleet and then turned her attention back to her husband, asking, “So…did Al and Goldie call or anything?”
“No…I thought they were just going to head on over here when they got up this morning, but I ain’t seem ’em yet…” he paused. “Oh, wait…here they are now.”
“Oh good, well, I’ll let you go, then.”
“Yeah, okay. You take it easy now, you hear?”
Louise laughed joyfully at her protective husband. “I will. Give them my love one more time.”
All of a sudden, Louise heard her husband yell, “What the… No! Stop!” and then a tremendous crash with glass breaking and all kinds of noise came through the earpiece, in the midst of which, she heard
Vic’s voice yell, “Oh, SH—!” and then silence.
Louise gripped the phone with both hands and screamed, “Vic! Vic! What’s happened? Vic! Are you all right? VIC!!!!” But the call had disconnected.
Fleet ran over from the sink and grabbed Louise’s arm. “What is it?”
Louise met her eyes, tears already welling up and starting down her face. “I don’t know! He was talking, then he said Al and Goldie had arrived, and then I heard a loud noise, like a crash…and the phone went dead…oh Fleet! Something terrible has happened!”
Horrified, Fleet’s mouth dropped open at such a revelation. “Okay, just hang on, let’s try to call him back,” she suggested, grabbing the receiver from a just about hysterical Louise and running to the phone on the wall. Her mind instantly blanked, however, and she turned to look over her shoulder at Louise. “Dag nabbit, I forgot the number! What is it?”
Panic nearly made Louise forget it too, but mercifully, it popped back into her head. “Um…Taylor 9-9320,” using the full word for the local exchange.
“Right, right,” Fleet responded, nodding vigorously and mumbling the numbers as she dialed the new style yellow rotary wall phone. Dialing the “0” took the longest for the plastic circle to come back around and she fussed at it to hurry up.
When the dial completed the final turn and she heard the dreaded “busy” signal, Fleet turned with the receiver in her hand and stared at her friend’s face, wet with tears, across the room. “It’s busy…I’ll try again,” and she redialed, only to get that aggravating pulsing noise. “I’ll call the operator,” Fleet mumbled, as Louise looked on in alarm.
Fleet dialed a zero and waited a few rings until a bored sounding, nasally voiced woman answered. “Number, please.”
