Bachelor Mother (18 page)

There was no reasoning with him in the state he was in.

“Fine. Now I’m really late and I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”

“Damn it, Bubba, you’re taking her side!”

“I think you’re behaving like a fool.”

“Then
you
  help her out,
you
  marry her and support someone else’s little bastard! I don’t know why having a kid was so important she had to go get knocked up before she thought it through! I can’t believe – ”

“I know what you can’t believe. Now I’m going to walk you out to your car.”

Bubba heaved a sigh of relief as he watched Donnie drive away. Then he turned and looked at Melanie’s – or rather, Donnie’s – house.

He’d move her into his house today.

Mel was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling when Bubba walked in.

“You’re still alive?” she asked sarcastically.

“I didn’t tell him,” Bubba replied. “You said you didn’t want anyone to know. A deal’s a deal.”

She sighed. “Thank you. I’m sorry I snapped at you. Donnie just pushes all my buttons and gets me wound up.”

He sat down on the bed. “I have a proposition to discuss with you.”

“No, I won’t move into your house.”

His astonishment must have shown on his face because she smiled sadly. “Bubba, you’ve already put yourself on the line for me more than anyone I’ve ever known. I can’t let you do any more.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’m sure Alicia can let me sleep on her couch until I can find an apartment.”

He took one of her hands in his. “Listen to me for a second. Haven’t things been just fine the way they are? I don’t want you somewhere where I can’t check up on you and make sure you’re okay.”

“Bubba, this is not your concern.”

“Come on, Mel, I think we’re beyond this. It’s my concern and you know it.” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I’ve tried to tell you how I feel but you keep pushing me away. The whole thing just sneaked up on me. It started out as friendship but it’s turned into something else.”

She sat up and looked straight into his eyes. “I feel like I never gave you a choice in any of this. Like I took advantage of you.”

“Yeah, and I really struggled.”

She was silent for a moment then said, “Okay,” so quietly he thought for a moment he had to be hearing things.

“Okay? That’s it?”

“Okay. But I don’t want you to mention anything else about our relationship until after the baby’s born. Nothing about my pregnancy was anything like I expected, so why should actually having a baby be any different?”

He was about to reply but she shook her head.

“Wait until she’s here, Bubba. It may be something you want nothing to do with.”

“I want you – that’s enough.”

“No it’s not. If we were to get married now, I’d always wonder if it was me or the baby.”

It was enough that she was moving in with him. The rest would come with time. “Okay. Fair enough. I’m going to call Terry and see if he can help us move. I don’t want you doing any heavy lifting.”

She surprised him then, putting her arms around him and hugging him tightly. He could feel the familiar response in his body, just from the softness of her skin, her touch, her own particular scent. But he was careful to kiss her chastely on the forehead and smile down at her.

* * *

Terry was home. The move took all of Sunday even though half the furniture was left behind since it belonged to Donnie. In the end, when Mel dropped the key in the mail to her brother along with a short, terse note that didn’t reveal she was staying with Bubba, she felt as if she’d been set free. She wasn’t living under Donnie’s roof anymore.

She would never accept anything from him again.

Living with Bubba was much the same as the months he’d spent at her house. Now that she had her energy back she made him new kitchen curtains, cleaned and repapered the shelves, cooked him meals. Mel wanted to make sure he never regretted opening his home to her so she worked herself as hard as she dared, trying to be a thoughtful guest.

He moved her bed into the spare bedroom, along with the crib she’d purchased. Dismantling her nursery had been the hardest part of moving. She’d cried as she’d taken down the ruffled curtains, packed the stuffed animals into a big box, folded up the tiny baby afghans and quilts. She was glad Donnie had never seen it.

Once she was moved into the spare bedroom, she began to prepare for the baby in earnest. She felt glued to her sewing machine as she made a set of crib bumpers and another quilt. Bubba brought home a mobile made up of circus clowns one day and she hung it over the crib along with the dancing bears.

She was intensely grateful to him for letting her set up the nursery in her bedroom. It helped her continue to see the baby as real, not something Donnie could take away from her.

Her older brother’s ideas chilled her. Bubba had told her Donnie knew about her medical condition, that he’d tried to explain why she’d chosen to get pregnant, but her brother still refused to understand. So Mel came to accept it. She decided she wouldn’t go home for Christmas. Donnie would find some way to make things miserable and she didn’t want to put her parents through that.

As Christmas came closer, she shopped, wrapped presents and baked cookies for Bubba, but her heart wasn’t really in it.

*     *     *

“Nine people? Who’s coming to dinner?” Mel asked as she pushed their cart down the aisle. It was the day before Christmas Eve and they were stocking up for the holiday. Bubba was scanning the grocery list, trying to decipher her handwriting.

“You, me, my mother, and six very dear friends of mine.” Bubba wrinkled his brow. “Mel, what does this say?”

She studied the list for a minute. “I think it says baking powder. I used the last we had in the chocolate chip cookies.”

“Does Alicia have a place to go?”

“She’s meeting her mother in Austria. They’re going skiing.”

They shopped companionably, having done it together many tines. They’d both agreed on a completely nontraditional menu – French onion soup, stuffed shrimp and a recipe Mel had pulled out of one of her cookbooks called “Mediterranean Vegetables.” The pièce de résistance was a trifle cake.

“You’re sure everyone won’t mind missing out on turkey or roast or something like that?” Mel asked later at the Santa Monica Fish Market.

Bubba shook his head. “Whatever we make will be fine with this crowd.”

She wondered. She knew he was nervous about seeing his mother. She’d announced suddenly that she was going to be in town. Surprisingly, Mrs. Williams had bloomed after her divorce. There were a few painful years at first. But then she’d gone back to school and had started to travel by herself. But her relationship with Bubba was still strained. Mel sometimes got the impression it was painful for her to look at him.

“We have to get a tree on the way home,” Bubba reminded her as they were checking out.

“I don’t really care. Do you?” She knew he rarely put up a tree when he spent Christmas Day by himself. She didn’t want to make him work any harder on her account.

“We could set it up tonight.” He was looking down at her, letting the final decision be hers alone. And for some strange reason she sensed her answer was important to him.

“Okay.” She made an effort to smile. “I’d like that.”

“You know Henry will tear down all the ornaments but it’s the thought that counts.”

That same evening, after Mel made grilled cheese sandwiches and heated up a can of tomato soup, they began to decorate the tree. She watched suspiciously as Bubba unwrapped brand new packages of Christmas lights and ornaments.

“How long has it been since you’ve had a tree?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I just got tired of the old stuff.”

They laughed and talked as the tree slowly filled with ornaments. It was impossible to stay depressed as the pine scent filled the house. Bubba had also insisted on buying extra greenery for the banister and the fireplace mantel and Mel lost herself in decorating.

She’d always loved doing the house up at Christmas. It saddened her to see her old house silent and empty, without any decorations or a tree in the big picture window in front. How could Donnie leave a house empty at Christmas?

Afterward, she made hot spiced cider and Bubba lit a fire. The lights on the tree flashed on and off in the darkened room.

“It’s the prettiest tree I’ve ever seen,” Mel said softly.

“That’s what you say every year.”

“And every year it’s true.” She was sitting slightly apart from Bubba on the sofa, wishing she had the right to curl up next to him and put her head on his shoulder. But she didn’t.

“Watch Henry,” Bubba said softly.

The cat had hidden underneath the coffee table while they’d decorated the tree, but now he slunk out slowly, his large belly close to the ground as he crept closer and closer to the tree.

Mel almost laughed but Bubba signaled her to be quiet. As they watched, Henry circled the tree, eyeing it warily. He darted underneath it and began to paw at the lower branches, making them shake and the ornaments fly off.

“Now I understand why you said no glass ornaments,” Mel said.

“Or tinsel. He ate some of yours last year and I had to take him to the vet.”

Henry merely watched both of them, his eyes glowing as he peered out from underneath the tree.

“He’ll stay there all Christmas. He likes it because the tree is in a corner, so he feels he’s completely surrounded.”

“I think he just likes to mess around with plants,” Mel replied. She’d had to hang most of her plants because Henry had the unfortunate habit of digging in the pots and tearing up the roots – not to mention chewing leaves.

“I’d like to give you your present privately if you wouldn’t mind,” Bubba said quietly, his eyes on the flashing lights. “Everyone will be here tomorrow night.”

What could he have for her that he couldn’t give her in public? But she managed to control her curiosity and nodded.

He brought the package downstairs from his bedroom. It was enormous, and he carried it as if it were heavy. Setting it down on the floor in front of her, he stepped back and looked down at her.

“Merry Christmas, Mel.”

She felt queerly light-headed as she fumbled with the bright red bow, carefully unwrapped the candy-striped paper. She pushed it all away, revealing an enormous cardboard box.

“Is this like we used to do as kids when you opened one box and found another, then another, then another?” She made a quick joke to cover her nervousness.

“Take a look and see.” Now
he
  seemed to be the nervous one.

Not able to stand the suspense a moment longer, she opened the top of the box. The inside was padded with white tissue paper and she pulled it out until she uncovered – a cradle.

She felt as if all her breath had left her lungs and was lodged in her throat. She couldn’t move, could only stare.

“I thought you could put it next to your bed.”

“Oh, Bubba.” The words were barely a whisper.

“That book the doctor recommended you read said they like to be rocked.”

“Oh, Bubba. Did you make this?”

He seemed suddenly shy. “Terry’s got a workshop in his garage. It didn’t take that long.”

But she could see the delicate pattern on the headboard, the graceful lines. It was beautiful dark oak and she knew he'd put his heart into making it special for her.

She was trying very hard not to cry. “Skip will love it.”

“I figure by the time she’s three or four I’ll make her a surfboard.”

“You think it’s going to be a girl?”

“I don’t know but I know you do.”

“I’m joking, Bubba. I just want a healthy baby.” She moved back up on the couch with him, her hand still touching the smooth finish of the cradle. Tentatively touching it, she watched as it rocked.

Turning toward him, her heart in her eyes, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. It wasn’t a friendly kiss but a kiss meant to convey the depth of feeling she had for him.

As he started to kiss her back, he lowered her gently down on the couch.

* * *

“I see you, Henry. Don’t even
think
  about stealing one of those shrimp.” Mel kept glancing at the cat lurking underneath the butcher-block table as she chopped vegetables, including onions for the soup. She’d started cooking early that morning, leaving Bubba asleep in bed.

She couldn’t rationalize away what had happened last night. There was a powerful attraction between them. Melanie wanted to be near him but each time they were together she felt she was sliding closer and closer to the moment when she’d have to admit she loved him.

Not now. You have to give him more of a chance to make up his own mind – without all the emotional pressures.
Her older sister, Steffie – the younger twin – had married her boyfriend right out of high school when she’d found out she was pregnant. She could still remember the tension in the family, the strain of constantly lying. “Molly was born early, she was premature.” “Steffie conceived on her honeymoon.” “It’s good to start a family right away.”

But nothing could make her forget the quiet despair on her sister’s face when she’d come home, carrying her one-year-old daughter. The marriage was over. John had felt he’d been tied down before he was ready to settle down. It didn’t matter that three years later Steffie met a man at work who took one look at her and decided she was the woman he wanted to marry. She’d had it with men. But Roy had persisted. Now she was happily married and the mother of three children.

Not for me. I’d rather know what I’m getting into right from the start.
It seemed a long time ago that she’d come to Bubba’s doorstep and asked him to get her pregnant. So much had happened. He’d said his feelings were slowly starting to change. But did he care for her? Or was what he felt simply feelings of responsibility for her and their baby? Though Bubba was a free spirit, he had an abiding sense of responsibility to his friends.

She didn’t want to be a responsibility. She wanted to be loved for herself.