The Girls of August (16 page)

“It’s Mac.”

We looked at Rachel in disbelief. Baby, who appeared profoundly confused, in fact
nearly cross-eyed, cried, “What!”

“It’s called pregnant. Plain as the nose on your face, you’re pregnant, Maddy.”

“But I…but we’ve never…,” I started.

“You still do it, don’t you?” Rachel was laser-locked on me. There was no escape.

“Well, of course! But in all these years…”

“Listen, if I don’t know pregnant when I see it, nobody does.” Rachel pushed my
hair off my face. “Don’t forget, I’ve got five. Congratulations, Maddy. We’re delighted
for you!”

“Now that you mention it,” Barbara said—a wide smile dispelling the look of terror
that had been on her face ever since she yelled “Bobcat!”—“it makes perfect sense!”

I offered no more bewildered protests, but inside my heart sang.
Could it be true? Could it finally, finally be true? After all this time
…

“A baby!” Baby exclaimed, bouncing on her toes, clapping.

I looked at their three beaming faces and decided I simply would not think about
the possibility that I was actually carrying a child until I got home. Nothing was
going to seem real until then anyway. Whenever anyone mentioned it, I decided, I
would simply hold up my hand and silence her. Those were the last thoughts I had
before everything went black.

When I came to, the first thing I saw was a whirring fan and then a nut-brown face,
eyes the same shade as Barbara’s, but it wasn’t Barbara.

“There you are.” She applied a cool compress to my forehead. “Just too much excitement
for a pregnant lady on a hot, hot day.” She had a lovely lilting accent.

For a moment I thought I was dreaming. Or dead. But then there they all were, a circle
of concerned faces hovering over me: Rachel, Barbara, Baby, this woman, and Earl.

“What happened?” I mumbled, trying to sit up, but the woman pushed me gently back
down.

“You passed out,” Rachel said.

“And we couldn’t wake you,” Barbara said.

“So I ran and got Earl,” Baby piped up. “He carried you here to Mama Bonaparte’s house.”

Mama Bonaparte. The name was strange yet familiar, but before I could begin to place
it or form a coherent thought she said, “And you are my little Mac’s wife. I haven’t
seen him in so, so long. You tell that child that Mama B misses him and he needs
to come see us.”

“Oh, my,” I said, the fog lifting. “Mac has told me about you, how during his summers
out here, you practically raised him.”

“I did raise him,” she said, pride lighting her voice. “And now look.” She reached
over and hugged Earl. “My grandson and his wife lose their first baby—nothing can
heal that sadness—but here you come, delivered to me in the arms of my grandson,
and you’re bearing my Mac’s child. Such a mysterious world,” she whispered.

Earl hugged his grandmother, and Baby put her arms around them both. The weight of
the loss clouded Earl’s eyes. I wanted to get up and hug him too, but in my condition
that wasn’t going to happen. “It’s going to be OK.” Baby said it three times, like
an incantation, a hopeful prayer.

“How do you all know each other?” Barbara asked.

Baby relaxed her grip on Earl but didn’t let go. Mama Bonaparte tested my skin with
the back of her hand, placing it on my forehead, my cheek, and finally my throat.

“It’s something Mac and I have in common,” Baby said. “I wanted to talk to him about
it when we visited you in Charleston, but, I dunno. I got shy or something. Earl,
how long have I known you and Sharelle?”

Earl shook his head. “Baby, it’s got to be, I don’t know…since we could all walk?”

“I delivered you, child,” Mama Bonaparte said to Baby.

“Who’s Sharelle?” I asked.

“My wife. We’re in mourning,” Earl said, stating the obvious. “Our baby…he didn’t
even get a chance to see this world.” Earl covered his eyes with the back of his
arm and, once more, Baby held him, whispering that it would all be OK.

“So this is where you’ve been disappearing?” Rachel asked. “You’ve been coming out
here to help your friends?”

Baby nodded yes. Earl slumped down in a chair beside Mama Bonaparte.

“Well, why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because,” Baby said, “I didn’t want to ruin your vacation. And Earl and Sharelle
are
my
friends. And you know what? When something like this happens, the last thing you
want in this whole world is a bunch of strangers fussing over you.”

“Oh, Baby,” Rachel said, “we accused you of all manner of crap. I am really sorry.”

And this time every one of us, even Baby, knew she meant it.

“Sounds like you all had quite a time,” Mama Bonaparte said, studying my face.

“You can say that again,” Barbara said.

“We quit keeping pigs a couple of years ago. Didn’t we, Earl?” Mama Bonaparte said.
“The boys do a good job of thinning out the wild ones. Nothing like this has ever
happened before, dear. I feel responsible.”

“Please don’t apologize,” I said, and I wondered how Mac could stay away so long.
Mama B, as I would learn everyone called her, was a strong and loving woman. “Maybe
it was meant to be. I mean, here we are, meeting you and all.”

“Perhaps.” She stroked my hair and then said, “Baby, can you go fix Miss Maddy a cup
of tea?”

“Blackberry?”

“Indeed. And y’all go help her.” She began fussing with the dressing bandage someone—I
supposed it was Mama B—had applied to my leg. As the girls and Earl shuffled out,
she said, “We don’t want this getting infected. No, ma’am.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” I said, and for no reason at all, I burst into tears.
“It must be the hormones. I mean, if I really am pregnant.”

“Oh, you’re pregnant, all right.” She got up, walked over to a bureau, and came back
with some sort of salve.

“How can you be so sure?” I asked through tears.

“Honey, I’ve tended to all the pregnant ladies who have ever come out here, including
Mac’s mama.” She removed the bandage and inspected the wound. “I would have delivered
your husband had his mama timed it right.” She applied the cool salve to the gash
and then taped fresh gauze into place. “Listen to me.” She took my hands in hers
and my tears slowed. “I need you to tell Mac something for me. I need you to tell
him that we all know he didn’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“He never told you?”

“No. He’s never talked about Tiger. And he wasn’t happy when it was decided we’d come
out here.”

Mama B pursed her lips, stared into space, seemed to find her answer, gazed down
at me, and said, “Somebody stole my son-in-law’s boat. This was a long time ago.
And James…well, James is a bit of a hothead and he immediately went off, accusing
your Mac of being the thief. It wasn’t true. We all knew it wasn’t true. But the
accusation cut Mac to the quick. He has his pride, as I’m sure you know.”

Mac’s pride. I did know. It was a quiet pride but as massive and immovable as a barrier
reef. No, Mac wouldn’t have forgiven such an accusation. Nor would he have told me
about it.

“And once it was all settled,” she went on, “once we figured out the boat hadn’t
been stolen at all but ‘borrowed’ for a joyride by some trash who came out here camping,
Mac was already gone. False accusations have a way of tearing people to bits, you
know. And we didn’t have a clue how to find him. Besides, we thought he’d be back.
We thought we could set things straight once he came home.” It looked as if Mama
B might be the one to cry next. “But he never did. And his family never rebuilt after
Hugo. Land’s just sitting there.”

“What?” I felt as if the whole world were spinning under me. “You mean, we own land
out here?”

“I think so. If your husband sold it, the buyers have made themselves scarce. As in
nonexistent.”

I lay there trying to wrap my mind around this—the second bombshell of the day—when
the girls and Earl tumbled back into the room all atwitter. Baby was guffawing and
Earl was laughing, and Barbara was exclaiming, “Wait till I tell my kids,” and Rachel,
above the din, shouted, “Madison, you are not going to believe this.”

“What?” I couldn’t think of one other thing that could surprise me on a day that was
proving to be full of surprises.

“Look!” Rachel said.

The four of them parted, Mama B glanced over her shoulder, and I screamed.

“Don’t be afraid,” Earl said. “It’s Bunny.”

Rachel slapped her thigh. “Bunny! What a hysterical name for a …wildcat!”

“It wasn’t a bobcat last night,” Barbara said. “It was Bunny, Earl’s pet ocelot.”

I felt my forehead. Surely I was having fever-induced hallucinations. Before I could
sit up and take stock of the situation, Bunny loped over to me and began licking
my hand.

“She likes you!” Earl said.

“Such a good girl!” Mama B cooed. “Aren’t you? Yes, you are. You keep loving on
Miss Maddy and she’ll be better in no time.” And then Mama B proceeded to plant a
kiss atop Bunny’s tan-and-black-striped head. Bunny began purring like a huge, quiet
engine. I was afraid and fascinated and possibly in love. She was beautiful.

“She goes to the bathroom in the toilet!” Baby crowed, setting my tea on the bedside
table.

That had to be a lie. Crazy Baby.

“Why did she growl at us?” I asked Earl.

“From how Barbara and Rachel described it, with y’all throwing bricks, she was probably
scared. But she’s not supposed to be over on the beach anyway. I’m sorry. It’s just,
with Sharelle so upset and us losing the baby, we haven’t been keeping up with anything.
Bunny just decided to wander off for the night.” He looked at Baby. “I guess she
wasn’t getting enough attention.”

“No need to apologize,” I said, gathering the nerve to pet Bunny down the length
of her back. I could feel the satiny ripple of muscle all the way down. “We’re really
sorry about the baby, Earl.”

“Yes, we are,” Rachel said.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” He looked down at the floor. I could tell that he
was trying to keep his composure.

The whole thing broke my heart. Nobody should lose a baby. This was a good family.
Close-knit. Hardworking. Sweet-spirited. Why, Mama B’s love for Mac was written all
over her handsome face every time she spoke his name. I sat up and Mama B handed
me my tea. As I took it from her I made a silent pledge to make sure the Bonaparte-McCauley
fence got mended.

Mama B tested my forehead again. “You’re going to be just fine,” she said.

As if the prognosis were the permission she needed, Bunny jumped onto the bed, expertly
avoiding my wound, and curled up by my feet.

“Looks like Bunny has found a new friend,” Earl said.

“That’s wonderful,” I said, eyeing the beautiful cat. “I think.”

Mama B turned and said, “Baby, I’ve got some greens on. Can you take Sharelle some?
And don’t forget the corn bread.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Baby said, no sass at all.

“And Earl, bring in that okra I picked this morning. I left it on the bench outside
the shed. I’m going to fix our guests okra-and-tomato stew.” Her smile deepened.
I had a hunch this woman was quite a cook.

“I’m sorry, ladies,” Earl said before he and Baby set out on their chores. “I’d
love for you to meet Sharelle, but she just isn’t up for visitors. Next time. You’ll
really like her.”

“Does your wife need medical attention?” Rachel asked.

“Rachel here is a nurse,” Barbara explained.

Earl shook his head. “No, no…Sharelle is, um…” He trailed off.

“She’s just sad,” Mama B finished his sentence for him. “Just real sad.”

After Baby and Earl left, Mama B said, “All right, young lady, you feel like getting
up?”

“I think so,” I said. “And, I have to say, at the mention of okra and tomatoes, I
realize that I’m starving.”

“Good! Then let’s all head to the kitchen. You girls can help. And you, Madison
McCauley,” she said, helping me to my feet, “can sit with your leg up. Like a queen
bee.”

And that’s how we spent our afternoon. Gabbing as if we’d all known each other forever.
Mama B spouted orders with gentle authority and chopped okra with hands scarred by
hard work. Baby behaved like a totally different person. She was respectful and
low-key, and never once took off her beach cover-up.

The question had been gnawing at me, so as we gathered around steaming bowls of white
rice and okra and tomatoes cooked down with onions, garlic, salt, pepper, and some
sort of hot spice I couldn’t identify, I said, “I just have to know something. How
do y’all deal with Miz Baby over here running around the island nearly naked?”

Earl looked up from his fragrant bowl of stew—he’d already dug into his—and began
a slow, easy, rumbling laugh.

Mama B didn’t look up. She simply broke some corn bread into her stew and said, “Around
here we have none of that. Do we, Baby?”

“No, ma’am,” Baby said. “Mothers…” She looked at us as though she were a prim schoolgirl
and I thought,
If she starts up with this mothers thing I’m going to stab her
. Baby dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin, cleared her throat, and
said in an angelic voice, “I never come to this side of the island without clothes
on. It would be disrespectful. In fact, despite what you may think, I only occasionally
skinny-dip. I am not,” she added, her face haughty and precise, “a nudist.”

Rachel shot her the Death Stare. In response, Baby gave us back a dazzling smile and
poured herself more tea.

“You missed your calling, Baby,” Barbara said.

“How’s that?”

“You should have been an actress.”

“That’s what Teddy says!”

I shook my head. Actually, Baby was a stitch, and despite my reservations, I realized
that I couldn’t help but like her. I took a deep breath. My stomach was calm and
I was ready for some delicious Mama B food. I ate and ate, and with each spoonful
I felt the health and warmth seep back into my bones.