All About B.A.D. (11 page)

A mother! BAD, a mom? How did that fit into the real world? Somehow the idea of it didn’t line up with Lilly’s memories of her lifelong friend. Adventurous, bossy, attractive, creative, and stubborn: attributes which made her a great best friend, but not necessarily ones she’d choose for mothering. Bernadette hadn’t been around newborns and had never wanted to be. Nurturing? Maybe of her own talents and ideas. But a baby? A living, breathing, dependent life form?

“Lilly, are you being fair? After all, you aren’t the same person you were a year ago, right?” Susan’s words hit home. “And look at me. I’ve gone from knowing nothing about being a wife to being an expert in diapering in that same amount of time. What you should be worrying about is who is going to be there to help her. Without Jack’s occasional baby duties and my mom’s insistence on keeping Miranda one day a week while I attend classes, I’d be a bigger grouch than I am now! Unfortunately, I don’t think Lone Grove’s inhabitants are ready to fling open their arms for ‘the one who has strayed’. The gossip is that the Donahues are pretty broken up by the news and are keeping a low profile. Sad, really.”

“You’re right. They say very little about Bernadette at all, almost as if she’s ceased to exist. And yet her photos are still everywhere in their house; her room is unchanged. Sometimes when I’m visiting it’s like they want me to tell them everything I know without them having to ask anything. I share what I can but it always feels strained and a little strange.”

“My best advice to you, Lilly, is to send her a good baby care book and lots of prayers, and make sure she knows we are still her friends.”

Miranda’s crying interrupted their conversation. Susan adeptly plucked her from the windup swing and whisked her to the changing table, all the time cleaning and comforting the little girl. The class clown had become a first-class mama.

Lilly fervently prayed that when BAD’s baby arrived, everyone would be able to say the same of her.

Dear Lilly,

I received your Christmas gifts in the mail yesterday and was thrilled. The baby and child care book is perfect for someone who needs all the help she can get. It answers many of the practical questions I’ve had. But the rest of the package was amazing – how did you pull it off? You are a genius! Only you, Lilly, can imagine how great it was to get back in my possession the notes, tubes of paint, and brushes I left behind! Just a few of things I’ve missed dearly. Believe me, everything has been put to good use.

Another surprise arrived from Lone Grove. My folks sent a winter coat and a note that made me think there is hope. You may have been right, Lilly, it just takes time.

Thank you, thank you, dear friend.

Bernadette

Dear Bernadette,

What a lovely surprise! I knew you were great at landscapes but when did you start painting portraits? The watercolor looks exactly like the photograph from Houston. I’m so excited and pleased with this gift. Mom had it framed and hung it in the hallway—she’s as happy as I am. I feel a little like a movie star when I pass by it. And the note cards! They are so beautiful, so professional looking. I’ve shared a few around Lone Grove.

What good news about your folks. According to mother, your mama mentioned you were expecting in the quilting group. Of course everyone already knew so there weren’t questions about a wedding or such. Bertha probably made sure of that. Anyway, it’s a start – and a good one.

Things continue to grow and change in Lone Grove. I found myself lost last week in an area I’ve ridden through hundreds of times. Not all change is positive. The newspaper is doing well with the population explosion and that’s good for all of us who work there. 

I’ve been looking into bus schedules to Galveston. Don’t be surprised if I show up on your doorstep one day.

Continue to stay healthy and stay in touch.

Your best friend,

Lilly

January winds tugged at the jacket that didn’t cover the bulge in her middle. The gift from home was more than she expected, but it was for a form remembered, not for the one wearing it now. The royal blue color was her favorite and she cried when opening the package. Her tears weren’t for what it was, but for what she hoped it meant: a door slightly opened through which she may be welcomed. The note from Mama, thanking her for gifts she had sent, was short and to the point, but it was signed, “With Love, Mama.” Bernadette read it as hope. She had received another gift from Lone Grove, a book on basic baby care accompanied by Lilly’s note telling her of local news and reminding Bernadette to let her know when the baby came. The letter was on stationery sent to Lilly by Bernadette. It was handcrafted paper imprinted with the scene of a beautiful Victorian home near the Gulf of Mexico. Announced in gold lettering on the back was:  Watercolor by B. Donahue, Bertan’s Gallery, Galveston, Texas.

The gallery was nearing completion but the renovations to the apartment and other areas were behind schedule. Bernadette was relieved, as this meant a later move-in date. She had decided to stay with the baby in Payne’s trailer as long as she could. There hadn’t been offers from Lone Grove for helping with a grandchild, and her options were limited. Bernadette was nervous and wanted to be in what was familiar and comfortable. The delays gave her breathing room and time to think.

Bernadette had experienced only the tiniest taste of freedom. Since being unceremoniously dumped at the edge of an adventure, she had been moving from one circumstance to another like the tides she loved to paint. The Bertans offered a second chance at an old dream. But soon there would be another drifting with her in this continuous back and forth. The realization left her feeling unprepared, fearful, brimming with self-doubt. She needed to be anchored. The people at Social Services mentioned the idea of adoption but too much attention had been paid to the child growing inside for her to think seriously about this being a solution. Mounting fears and a sense of uncertainty caused her to consider it a real possibility. Could she give up a child after giving it life? Could she say “goodbye” without ever seeing its face? Or after seeing its face? How do you change diapers, feed a baby or take care of it when it’s sick and you are working to survive? As questions piled up, resolve wore down. She was tired and uncomfortable but knew she had something many others didn’t—people around her who cared.

In another month she’d have the opportunity to try out different roles. The question was, which ones could she manage? 

In February, Payne baked heart-shaped cookies and appointed Bernadette as the café’s official hostess. Sitting by the front door, BAD greeted each person entering, handing them a baked Valentine. 

A young man came in, tall, slender and serious looking. He was distracted when given the cellophane-wrapped package tied with red ribbon. After realizing what he was holding, he turned to thank whoever was responsible and found himself looking into the face of an attractive young woman who looked ready to give birth.

“Thank you, very nice. Do I owe you something?”

“No, and you’re welcome. They’re on the house. It’s our way of wishing you Happy Valentine’s Day. Of course, we’re hoping you’ll be happy enough to come back.”

The man dragged his eyes from her face. Her present condition didn’t distract from her beauty. He noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding band.

“Thanks again. I think I probably will.” He joined the flow of the crowd headed toward lunch at the counter.

Bernadette smiled. How strange to feel both pregnant and flirtatious. The first sensation had dominated every other. Her tray empty, she stood and started toward the kitchen. Halfway there, she felt a warm flow of liquid down the inside of her thighs.

“Payne! Payne!”

One look at Bernadette and Wanda sprang into action. “Get ready, Bernadette. I think another treat is on its way!”

She was handed a tightly wrapped bundle. Apprehension, anxiety and sadness stabbed at her heart causing watery eyes, blurring her first peek at the tiny form in her arms. Slowly, the fuzzy image became clear. A patch of dark curly hair topped a fat-cheeked face with large unfocused eyes. The little mouth puckered and unpuckered, forming a perfect “O”, as if surprised to be there. Bernadette unwrapped the baby, examining all of its fingers and toes. She looked at its little belly with the attached stub of umbilical cord, the remaining link to her own insides. Its cocoon removed, it began to mew at the sudden release. She felt the knobby knees, the soft skin on the legs and arms, and smiled at the long feet that were a duplicate of her own. She breathed in all of the baby smells and pressed her lips to its head. New emotions welled up by old ones.

Bernadette lay in the quiet of the moment with unfamiliar life in her arms. She longed for her mama to be there, saying comforting words she had never uttered. She needed soothing for everything that ached.

“I told them I was the grandma.” Payne popped her head into the room. “It’s the only way to get in here right now. Just call me Grand Payne because we all know it’s true! Right? I couldn’t wait, Bernadette. Are you doing okay…and the baby? It sure was awfully anxious to be out and about in this old world!” 

Little time for all the practiced breathing learned in Lamaze, Payne barely had Bernadette registered before the child had begun making its appearance. A full moon had assured a busy night for the hospital. 

“It has the right number of toes and fingers. Look at that hair and I swear it is trying to talk to me. Wanda, I think everything’s okay. The nurse didn’t say anything was not. Does it look that way to you?” The new mother begged for assurances.

“How about letting me hold it before making a judgment?” Payne took the infant in her arms. She looked at its olive skin, large eyes and mass of hair. She covered it with kisses and smiled at its tiny butt. A feeling of warmth oozed from its bottom.

“I can officially answer, ‘yes!’” Wanda’s words and smile eased away much uncertainty.

Bernadette leaned backed against the pillows, trying to find a position where she felt comfortable, where things fell into place, waiting for the question she knew was hovering.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She sighed and mouthed words from a long ago childhood. When she opened her eyes, Wanda Payne was looking directly at her.

“Payne, meet Joshua Conner Donahue. The doctor says we can all go home in a couple of days.”

In the hospital, Bernadette floated between the worlds of present and future. The immediate time was for learning to nurse, burp and diaper. She took advantage of being able to rest, knowing that sleep may soon be a luxury. She fretted over how she would bathe Conner when they were alone. She made lists of questions and listened intently for answers. Slowly, Bernadette learned to care for him. Mothering would have to follow.

Joshua Conner Donahue lay peacefully in a bassinet near a window in the House of Many Colors. He was finally asleep, exhausted after his short trip from the tiny trailer behind the house and his long bout of crying. Nursing babies weren’t supposed to be colicky. He would cry with hunger, nurse, burp and expel large volumes of milk over his mother and everything in his “explosion area”. His crying would begin again. He was garnering quite a reputation. He was diapered, cooed at and carried by the café clan, all of whom adored him. Deah fashioned a cloth sling for the fretful infant. It proved to be one of his most comfortable places and he traveled everywhere with Bernadette nestled inside its pouch. Another favored place was proximity to Joshua. The young mother marveled at the ease and naturalness Joshua exhibited with her infant. Finding the two of them asleep on Wanda’s couch, Conner would lie like a little fist on the man’s chest, their heartbeats and breaths rising and falling simultaneously…filling up, emptying out.

The third month of Conner’s life brought changes for everyone. His colic ended as quickly as it had begun. It made him a happier baby who travelled more easily from one set of arms to another. This calm, in turn, created a shift within his mother. Conner’s fretfulness had occupied her days and nights, draining away any preoccupations with herself, opening new avenues of awareness and reflection on others. She wondered about the baby Wanda lost; Josh’s history and the sadness surrounding him; forgiveness; hers, her folks; their lives. She thought about Lilly. Bernadette asked questions with greater interest, listened more intently to answers given, and called home to hint of a visit. 

Spring also saw the introduction of the Bertan Gallery. After lengthy delays due to weather, Mattie’s continual alterations and architectural challenges, it was ready for the public’s welcome and its first Artist in Residence. The open house rivaled any the island had witnessed, and was talked about for days. Bernadette and Joshua tried persuading Wanda to go by throwing out names of celebrities and VIPs attending, but she refused to budge on the subject. She insisted she was the only person who could properly care for Conner the first night away from his mother.

It proved to be a magical night for all with Bernadette the center of a swirl of attention. Cards with her name under the gallery’s logo flew from the table near the entrance. There were endless compliments and queries about commissioned pieces. Surrounded by praise and excitement, Bernadette found herself wondering about Conner.

Wanda Payne cradled the child while resisting thoughts about him and his mother leaving to live in the Bertan apartment. “Grandma” was a title she had longed for, never believing it would be one she would hold. It would be difficult relinquishing her care and daily visits, but Payne understood realities. There would be a stipend and money from the sale of watercolors. Painting needed uninterrupted time. There were contacts to be made. The older woman accepted the truth while her heart broke with the weight of it. Payne’s hope and fear was that Bernadette would succeed.