All About B.A.D. (13 page)

Toward the end of August, the crowds began to thin. The gallery became quiet, almost empty. Bernadette’s lessons to young children and mature women barely kept the studio running. These lessons resulted in spotty attempts at painting, embarrassed laughter, easy camaraderie and sparse income. The hype about commissioned pieces turned out to be just that, and the extra bonuses stopped upon Arthur’s arrival. September nearing, the young mother began considering her options. Other than waitressing, they were slim. It was difficult imagining the café without Payne. And care for Conner? Who? How? Where? Questions circled in her mind like vultures, ready to peck away at fragments of her sanity.

Josh had invited her to paint in his studio but his compact home allowed no space for her and Conner to live. The trailer which had housed them before was now occupied with the medical student acting as a chauffeur and aide to Payne, shuttling her to and from appointments. Bernadette could stay in the House of Many Colors. When she first told Wanda about the closing of the gallery, the invitation had been quick and sincere. Wanda had an extra bedroom and Conner would have a crib. But Bernadette worried about the disruption this would bring to a woman who needed rest and quiet: a friend insistent on mothering more than accepting help. Bernadette would have no transportation, no job and little money.

She locked the studio door and climbed the stairs to the rooms she and Conner would soon need to vacate. She opened the door to see two strangers wandering about the apartment. Isabella stood meekly in a corner, out of the way, holding a sleeping Conner.

“What’s going on? Isabella, who are these people?”

The young woman shook her head and pointed toward Arthur who was coming from the bedroom.

“Arthur, how did you get in here and what are you doing? Who are these people?”

“With my key, of course.” He smiled to the strangers as if she were crazy. “I’m just showing the apartment to some potential renters. They are looking for an apartment to occupy
very
soon.” 

Emphasizing the very, he turned to her, beginning introductions all around as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. One look into her eyes and he stopped cold. Splotches of red crawled from her shoulders to her neck and spread themselves in a fan-like pattern across her face; the trembling, begun in her legs, hurled itself upward, causing her to shake in a furious dance. Bernadette’s frustration-filled rage gushed into her mouth and boiled out in screams that sliced through the others with knifelike precision. It awakened Conner, his cries joining those of his mother, sending shivers through all others in the room. The would-be renters stood dumbstruck for a few seconds, trying to mentally assemble the scene before them. They hurried to the exit, Arthur close behind. He stumbled out, slamming the door. Isabella, tightly hugging the terrified child, ran to the balcony overlooking the perfectly manicured, oleander-lined backyard, whispering calming words she did not feel. The raging from Conner’s mother didn’t stop until her voice was gone and her spirit splintered.

Focusing on survival had created a narrowness of purpose, stealing Bertha’s attention from her surroundings and the people she loved. The conversation jerked her back into facing other realities.

“I’m sorry. I figured you knew. I’ll say this about her, she’s a go-getter!”

The news coming from anyone other than Lee would have stung. 

“I’ve been really busy. We haven’t had much time to talk lately.” In fact, Bertha’s conversations with her daughter had been sparse and sporadic. 

“But I’m really surprised, Lee. This isn’t like Lilly at all.” 

“Mr. Griffith was a bit surprised. Thought he’d better talk it over with you before he agreed to driving her out there anymore. You know we’ll help where we can, though. We just thought we’d make sure everything’s okay.”

“Thanks, Lee. Everything’s fine but I’ll talk with her tonight about it. Guess we don’t need to discuss this with other folks until we know what’s cooking, right?” It was a question that didn’t need answering.

Bertha couldn’t work up legitimate anger. Her daughter had tried talking with her for a while but she’d been busy mothering her crew of engineers, adding to her pay with long hours when possible. Lilly’s late nights had been chalked up to studying, working at the newspaper, visiting with friends. Quite honestly, Bertha hadn’t given it as much thought as she would have in the past.  

She waited until they had almost finished their supper.

“Lilly, I was talking with Lee today and she mentioned that you’ve asked Henry for a couple of rides out to the
I’ll Be Dammed
.” There had been a time when Bertha wouldn’t have uttered the name of the bar where the lake was losing its battle to flow freely. Being around an all-male crew had loosened her up a bit. “He seems to think you’re working there. Any truth to that?”

The silence of a few seconds stretched like years across the table.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you, really. Do you know they serve food as well as alcohol? I’m not twenty-one yet, Mama. I serve only food.”

“How long, Lilly? And when were you going to mention it to me?”

“Just a few weeks and only part-time. I had to wait until summer classes were mostly done. I’ve been catching rides with Mr. Griffith and different friends from school.”

“Why?”

In answer to her mother’s question, Lilly retrieved the letter from her bedroom. She pulled it from its envelope and laid it on the table. “Atlanta, lecture series, mostly paid……..”

Bertha’s eyes scanned the page. When she was finished, Lilly offered her defense.

“I really want to go, Mama.” She waited for the heated response she was certain to come. Instead, a single tear slid down the older woman’s cheek. She rose slowly from her chair and walked to her daughter. Throwing her arms around her neck, she whispered words almost inaudible.

“Then you will.”

As a financial negotiator, Bertha proved adroit. Her connections, reputation for honesty and keeping order also played in her favor. As it turned out, Lone Grove Bank and Trust was delighted to loan her a sizeable sum based upon her history and their knowledge that she held the deeds to some lake-licked property.

Rain. Rain. Rain. Days of it pooled in every depression, its heavy accumulation weighing down the islanders and all their possessions. Struggling against pessimism, they wondered aloud if they could die from being permanently sogged. When the sun finally appeared in spurts, it brought with it a sauna-like state making breathing a labor. And yet, even its small glimmers of light renewed the residents’ hope for recovery.

The porch swing sat idle, its wooden ribs soaked. Wanda peered past it through the large window in the front of her house, searching for two faces. It was a leaner version of Payne who kept watch. Cancer treatments had narrowed the soft curves of her face and figure, and thinned her thick grey hair. Sprouting back in places laid bare by chemotherapy were small wiry patches. Her eyes were lined with half-moons of grey. Her smile was the single feature left untouched.

Her insistence that she was capable of taking care of herself had emptied the house of a steady flow of friends rotating in and out. Now quiet, she was left with weeks of frozen casseroles covered with cheese and a wide variety of rich desserts she no longer craved. She kept her eyes trained down the street.

Weekly visits to Wanda’s proved difficult for Bernadette once Isabella left. With increasing demands from Arthur, the young nanny departed shortly after BAD’s screaming episode. Calls from Josh and talks with the café crew kept Bernadette informed of Wanda’s treatment, but now she needed to hold her friend in her arms. She needed to share her laughter and wisdom.

Wanda spotted them a block away. She stood in her doorway and called out once they were within earshot. A long bus ride and even longer walk with Conner left the two of them ready for the cool air inside Wanda’s house. Conner was cranky and ready to be out of the folding stroller that had held him captive. Leaving the fretting child in his carrier, Bernadette ran the last few steps into Wanda’s arms. The two women stood clutching each other, squeezing out tightly held emotions. It was Conner’s continued protests that finally broke their grasp of one another.

“Poor Conner. And you. You must be tired. I’ll get you something cool to drink while you get that sweet boy out of his stroller.”

Bernadette turned back to retrieve the crying child. 

“I’ll do that, Wanda. We certainly aren’t here for you to wait on us.” 

She carried Conner into the kitchen while Wanda gathered their things. Bernadette returned with two glasses of cold water and a bottle of juice on a small tray. 

“Looks like you’ve learned to balance many things, Bernadette.” Wanda let go a laugh. It was the same large love of life, but in a diminished frame. “And, by the way, what do you think of this new, sexy woman? I’ve dropped a couple of sizes and there’s more to go!”

“You’ve always dreamed of a skinny version of yourself, Wanda. Has it been awful?”

“It’s been no picnic, but I’m on my way. I plan to beat this.” She reached for the whimpering boy in his mother’s arms. “Come to me, Conner. Come see me.” 

The face coming close didn’t seem to match the voice he associated with it. Back and forth, he searched both faces, unsure of what he wanted to do. Gradually he turned himself over to Wanda’s outstretched arms. She sat down and placed him tentatively on her lap, eager to hold him but mindful of his wiggly legs near tender places.

“My, Conner, you are getting to be a big boy, and so strong and heavy! What are you feeding him, Bernadette? Deah’s biscuits?” Wanda’s chuckle covered a grimace of pain. Conner was proving to be a handful.

“Have you had more information from the doctors?” 

“Nothing new, really, which I’m taking as a good sign. I’m still tired a lot of the time, but I know I’ll get stronger. The center has me starting a wellness program. They’ll put me on a special diet for a while and I’ll be doing exercises. I tell you it’s a new me!”

The bluff of her voice masked a load of anxiety.

She nuzzled Conner’s neck, breathing him in. 

“It’s awfully easy to forget simple things, isn’t it? I made a list of things I want to do and people I want to call or write. Things I want to remember.” 

“Speaking of people, Wanda, has Josh been by?”

“Yes, every day. He fusses over me and tries to make me laugh. He’s no comedian, BAD, but you have to give him an ‘A’ for effort.” Wanda handed Conner back to his mother and sank into the sofa cushions. “And you? Fill me in on what’s happening at the gallery, the Bertans and everything else I’ve missed.” 

The child was placed on a pallet where he was cleaned and diapered while his mother brought her friend up to date. Bernadette shared the antics of her younger pupils. She described some of her own work and relayed the details of her life under Arthur’s rule and Isabella’s departure. 

“The gallery is going to be turned into a bed and breakfast, apartments, something. Mattie needed a new project, a different challenge. Conner and I are losing our space in September. It’s really okay; I’d get out of Arthur’s way sooner if it were up to me.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Wanda minced food—rarely words. “The trailer is full but my house isn’t. I’ve been thinking about how a certain room would look in purple.” 

Her invitation hushed the room.  

Conner reached up, touched the dampness on his mother’s cheek and then stuck his chubby fingers into his mouth. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the salty taste on his tongue.

“It would only be until I come up with a new plan.”

“That’s a good thing, and this is just the place for formulating one. I won’t expect you and Conner to be nursemaids but I could certainly use the company and a good laugh. Give Josh a little competition in that area. Anyway, he’s coming around today. Why not ask him for a hand in moving? And Bernadette, I wouldn’t wait for that sneaky lackey of Mattie’s to make the decision of when you leave.”

“Thank you, Wanda. Thank you. We’ll take you up on the offer.” The young mother closed the space between them, wrapping the older woman in her arms. Their quick embrace held volumes of gratitude.

“Now, Wanda, please. Tell me everything about you, the café, Bertie and the rest. I’m starved for news.”

Words flowed from the one answering questions of the other and it wasn’t until much later that the outpouring slowed to a trickle. Bernadette went into the kitchen to get them something to eat. Conner was left lying on the pallet at Wanda’s feet. Bernadette could hear the repetition of some silly rhymes and nonsensical syllables followed by husky chuckling and baby giggles. It was music to her ears: a song long missed.

She returned with an assortment of food and placed some in front of Wanda who studiously avoided looking at it.

“Guess what, Wanda? A letter came from Lilly. Remember I told you about Lilly? She’s going back to college and she really would like for us to get together. And she’s never seen Conner. What do you think about that?”

“Great! I think that’s great. Are you going?”

“I’d love to but can’t see how to make that happen. Of course my folks still haven’t met their grandson, either. Photos don’t really tell the story, do they?”

“You should go, Bernadette. One look at Conner and their hearts will melt.”

Lacking the courage to ask for one more thing, Bernadette turned her face away.

“I’m working on it; I am certainly working on it.”

A soft knock and a man’s voice broke the short silence.

“Mrs. Payne, may I come in? I’m doing my daily rounds.”

“Yes! Come in, Stephen. You are just in time to meet a couple of special people.”

The young man looked vaguely familiar with his shock of curly hair and serious eyes. Hadn’t she seen him before? In the café? In the gallery? Bernadette struggled to place him.

“Stephen, meet Bernadette Donahue and Conner. Bernadette, this is Stephen Walker. He’s my caretaker and underpaid driver.”

“Don’t let her kid you. I’m definitely getting the better end of the deal. Hey! You’re the heart girl! You were giving away Valentines cookies in Mrs. Payne’s café. I thought they were supposed to get folks to come back in. Well, it worked for me but I haven’t seen you there again. Am I looking at one of the reasons?” Stephen’s eyes peered down at the little boy who was staring back up.

“Yes, he’s one of the reasons. It’s nice to meet you, Stephen. Thanks for all you’ve done for Wanda.”

“Like I said, I’m definitely getting the better end of the deal.”

“He’s going to be a doctor—a good one, I suspect.” 

“That depends on if all my patients are as cooperative as you, Mrs. Payne.”

“I’ve told you a thousand times—it is either Wanda or Payne. The other just makes me feel old.”

“I’m sorry. It’s a habit. Some habits are hard to break, like spicy food, Cajun music, saying ‘ma’am’.”

“Cajun? Are you from Louisiana? What part?” Bernadette’s question caused a smile to ease on the young man’s face.

“I’m very close to being from Louisiana, but I’m actually from Poplarville.. Nothing much there, really.”

“That old thing about the world being small, guess it’s true, huh, Bernadette?” Wanda displayed a smile of her own. “She’s not far from there. Lone Grove.”  

Stephen nodded. “I’ve been fishing with my dad there many times. Of course, lots of changes with the new dam being built.” His words picked at Bernadette’s curiosity. Before she could ask questions, Stephen jumped in with his for Wanda. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, Mrs. Payne—uh, Wanda.” He stumbled over the familiarity of the name. “If you can manage getting a driver, I’d like to go home for a few days. It wouldn’t be for long. You think that would be okay?”

“Of course you should go. I’m never one to keep a person from going home.”

“Great. I’d really appreciate it. It isn’t for another month or so and I’d only be gone for a long weekend. I’ll have time to have the yard cleaned up and any other jobs finished, but I wanted to make sure it was okay first.”

“Are you driving?” The question slid too easily from Wanda’s mouth.

“Yes, it’s about a five, five and a half-hour drive. Not bad, really.”

“Well, Stephen, if you need company, Bernadette and little Conner here were thinking of going that way.”

A blush, awkward and clumsy, spread over the room.

“Sure. It would be nice to have someone along.” The young man, polite to a fault, worked to control his fidgeting. His toes wiggled in his shoes.

“Wanda!! I’m sorry, Stephen. Wanda and I were talking about a possible trip back to see an old friend when you came in. I’m sure she was just thinking of that. I’m really sorry; I wouldn’t think about you having to haul us.” She shriveled from the feeling of being forced upon anybody.

“Actually, it’s okay with me. Sometimes the drive can get pretty long and boring. Just plan on it and we can work out any details about you and, uh, your baby later. Right now I’m going to be late to a class.” His getaway was clean and exact. “Payne, you keep up the good work and I’ll be back tomorrow to take your pulse. Okay?” 

“My pulse will be fine; it’s my wardrobe that’s suffering!”

He edged out the door.

“It sure sounds to me like you’re feeling better.”

The door closed with his last word, and the two women were left thinking about what had just happened.

Slyness, thick as jam, smeared Wanda’s face.

“Guess you’ll be visiting Lilly and your folks after all.”

“Honestly, Wanda. What was that all about? What were you thinking?!”

“I suppose it was something they slipped inside while I was in the hospital, under anesthesia.”  It was said with more of a snicker than a laugh. “Anyway, didn’t that work out just perfectly? Look at our little angel.” She expertly shifted Bernadette’s glare in another direction.

The little boy had rolled on his belly, his pudgy hand pressed to his mouth. His body pumped up and down with tiny breaths. Wanda longed for such sleep. She turned to Bernadette whose head was still reeling.

“BAD, let’s share some apple pie. After all, a woman has got to be fed.”

The two walked toward the kitchen: one feeling smug, the other feeling like she’d just been had.