Vada Faith (21 page)

“Vada Faith,” Dottie said after a few minutes of my aimless chatter, “shouldn’t the doctor order an ultrasound soon?”

“Yes.” I was almost finished cutting her hair. I had an appointment for an ultrasound but I didn’t tell her. Until then she’d been unusually quiet. I turned her around so she could see the length of her hair.

I was thinking that an ultrasound was the least of my worries right now. I didn’t intend to let her know I was having any problems. “Short enough?” I asked, standing back to check the length for myself.

“Yes, that’s good.” She stared at herself in the mirror. “I really wish you’d ask Dr. Fine about that ultrasound. Just to make sure everything is okay.” She patted her hair. “We want a perfect little baby.” She smiled at her own reflection.

Sure, I was thinking, a perfect little baby to go in its perfect little room.

“I’ll take care of it,” I said, combing through her hair.

I wanted to make sure everything was okay with the baby, too. I knew Dottie had a right to be anxious. However, I was beginning to feel that my baby’s health wasn’t any of her business.

“Do you feel okay, dear?” Her voice was grating on my nerves. “You look pale.” She peered into my face.

“I’m okay.” I wasn’t okay. I just wasn’t telling her. I wasn’t telling anybody. Not only was I feeling sick but I was having serious doubts about my agreement with this crazy couple.

On top of everything else, Midgy kept calling to unload her problems on me. She couldn’t get the physical help she needed out at the cemetery.

I had more on my plate than I could handle without worrying about those poor dead people whose names would be forgotten if the community didn’t get those tombstones back in place. I’d written another check. It was the least I could do and far easier than going out there and wielding a rake and shovel at the cemetery. Besides I wasn’t able.

“Do you think something might be wrong with my baby?” Dottie’s voice filled with concern. Honestly, I wanted to whack her with my hair brush.

“Of course not.” I turned her around to face me. “Why would you say a thing like that?”

“Well, you’ve been so sick.”

“Pregnant women get sick. Some more than others.”

“My husband’s concerned.” She rubbed her hands together. “He couldn’t sleep after you left the other night.”

I plugged in the dryer and aimed it at Dottie’s hair. No wonder he was worried and couldn’t sleep. I’d be worried too if I was him. He thought he was in love with another woman. Me. The woman who was making his dream, their dream, of having a baby come true or had that all been crazy talk from the alcohol?

“Do you think your husband would make me an oak cabinet?” Dottie’s face lit up with the thought. “Like your jelly cabinet? He showed me a picture. He’s so clever that handsome man of yours.”

“I don’t know,” I said, wondering if the woman had lost her mind. “You’ll have to ask him.” All she thought about was buying things. Like jelly cabinets. I knew there was no way John Wasper would make anything for her. He said she’d taken too much from us already. Now, I wondered if he might be right.

“I’m so impressed with him. He’s a genius with wood. Now you tell him I said so.”

“Oh, I will,” I said. When it rains turkeys.

“Hey, girls.” Mama came in, banging the shop door behind her. A smile covered her face as she barreled over to where I was working. It had been ages since I’d seen her this perky.

“Dottie Kilgore,” she said, “I know you.” My mother beamed down at the woman in my chair and then plopped into an empty dryer chair. “You’re an Elvis fan too.” She smiled and smoothed out the Elvis shirt she wore over her tight black pants.

“I don’t know you.” Dottie pressed her lips together.

“We met at the Elvis concert. Sort of. I was with Sally from the club. I don’t forget a face, sweetie.”

Dottie looked horrified.

“You remember. Elvis? Rodriquez? At the Civic Club?”

“Oh, yes,” the woman finally stammered, her face turning red. “I did stop in. I was curious about the turn out, that’s all. The Women’s Club sponsored him.”

“They said you found him all the way down in Mississippi. He was something else, girlfriend.” She fanned herself. “Thank you, honey! Hey.” She snapped her fingers. “If you’re good friends with him maybe you could introduce me.”

“I’m not his friend.” The woman drew herself straight up in the pink salon chair.

“You could’ve fooled me. I thought I saw you getting on his bus.”

“You didn’t see me getting on his bus. I don’t know who you saw but it certainly was not me.”

“Well, I guess an introduction is out.”

The woman gave my mother a dark look.

“How are my babies doing in kindergarten?” Mama changed the subject.

“Good,” I said. “I can’t believe how much they’re learning and how fast they’re growing up.” I wound a section of the woman’s blonde hair onto the curling iron. “I’m sure they’d love to have you come over this evening and see some of their work, Granny. They’re learning to recognize words.”

“Thanks.” Mama stood up and smoothed down her Elvis shirt. “I will come over. Well, gotta run.” She patted my arm. “See you later, honey.”

When she got to the door, she called back over her shoulder, “Hey, I ran into John Wasper. He says he’s going to start renovating the upstairs. He’ll do a great job. I can’t wait to see it. By the way, where’s Joy Ruth?”

“Running an errand.”

She blew a kiss my way and I waved. Lately I was liking my mother more than I ever had before. How weird was that?

When she left, several more customers walked in. It kept me busy finishing Dottie and running up front to the appointment book. I needed a break.

My sister was never around when I needed her. What was this about my husband starting to renovate the upstairs? Why was I always the last to know? Why was he bothering to renovate? Was it because I’d taken his plaque from the back door and hung it in his workshop, suggesting he take his own advice and try blooming where he was planted?

“Is your mother all here?” Dottie asked, tapping her head, indicating that my mother might be a mental case.

“Oh, she’s all here, all right. As much as anyone. Her boyfriends think she’s especially all here.” I couldn’t help grinning at the thought.

“Humph.” Dottie’s face gave away nothing to prove or disprove she’d ever been on that bus with Elvis or whoever that guy really was.

I finished her hair without anymore conversation, and when she left she gave me a generous tip.

I wanted to give it back but didn’t. I had things to start figuring out.

“Mommy,” Hope Renee said, as she took apart her Oreo cookie and licked out the middle, “are you giving away my sister?”

Both girls were seated at the kitchen table having a bedtime snack. Mama and I sat across from them with a cup of tea. The girls both had a great day at school and had worn themselves out showing off their art work to their grandmother and their attempts at printing their names.

“You wouldn’t give me away would you, Mommy?” Charity was using her finger to eat the icing from the Oreo.

“What are you two talking about?”

“Ryan Randolph said you were giving away our baby.” Hope looked up at me with her daddy’s big brown eyes. “I’m not a baby. Charity’s the baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” Charity said, her lip quivering.

“Look, I’m not giving you two away. You’re my sweethearts.” I went over and hugged them both. “I would never give you away. Don’t you know that?”

“Ryan said your mother is giving away your baby,” Hope said. “That’s just what he said and he said ha ha ha.”

“I’m not a baby.” Charity Mae pouted. “I’m a big girl and Ryan’s a dummy.”

“Okay. That’s enough. It’s bedtime. Nobody is giving anybody away. Understand?” I put my hands out to the girls. “Now, let’s shake on it.”

“Promise.” Hope Renee put her hand in mine.

“Promise.” I took Charity’s hand and we did a three way handshake.

“It’s off to bed you two go.” I raced them to the foot of the stairs where their grandmother was waiting to help them along.

When mama came back downstairs to sit on the sofa beside me, I was on the phone with Marge Randolph, Ryan’s grandmother. She had been a good friend and good customer for years so it was a hard phone call to make.

“Vada Faith if Ryan has heard that you’re giving away your baby, I’m sorry. He didn’t hear it from me. I’m certainly sorry he’s talking about it at school. I will speak to my grandson and to my daughter.”

“My girls don’t know anything about my surrogacy.” I was so angry I could barely speak.

“You should have told them, then. You know how people talk around here.”

“Would you speak to Ryan, Marge. Please? The girls were upset thinking I was giving one of them away.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll handle it. You have to be honest with the girls, Vada Faith. You can’t keep a thing like this from them. Not in Shady Creek. You should know that by now.”

“I plan to tell them. I just haven’ t yet.” My insides were churning.

“What do you plan to tell them, dear girl? That you’re giving away their baby brother or sister?”

“Marge that’s not your business. I don’t have to explain it to you.”

“No, you don’t. You have to explain it to them and will they understand? What about when they’re older? Will they understand your reasons for giving away their sibling?”

“Please, just speak to Ryan.” I hung up the phone.

“What kind of mess have I gotten myself into?” I asked, looking at my mother.

“You’ll figure it out.” She patted my hand. “I just read in Reader’s Digest that Helen Keller once said, ‘Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.’” She smiled at me. “I’d say this is a daring adventure you’ve embarked on. Now you have to see it through and you can. I just know it. You’re strong. Stronger than you think.”

I laid my head on her shoulder and she put her arm around me. I closed my eyes. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a mother. Just when I was screwing up as one myself.

When the girls came home from school the next day, I was at the kitchen table armed with books and explanations.

“Why, Mommy?” Hope Renee asked, when I’d finished my rehearsed speech. “I don’t want you to give our baby to Mrs. Kilgore. I want our baby.” She kicked her saddle shoe against the leg of the chair. “Don’t you want our baby, daddy?”

John Wasper sat across the table from me. He’d come home early at my request though the company had tried to get him to take a load of building supplies to Memphis. The company that had no business three months ago now had business out the wazoo. Great timing. He had said there was serious talk now of promoting him to manager.

“Someday we might have another baby, Hope,” he said. “just not now. This baby,” he avoided looking at me, “belongs to Mr. and Mrs. Kilgore. It isn’t our baby.” He patted her arm awkwardly. “It never was ours.”

“If it never was ours, Daddy,” Charity Mae asked, looking puzzled, “why is it in mommy’s tummy?”

“Good question,” he said, “I’ll let mommy answer that one.”

“Remember I told you how Mr. and Mrs. Kilgore couldn’t have their own baby and I was helping them have one. It’s their baby in every way.”

“We want a baby,” Charity Mae persisted, “me and Hope do. Don’t we Hope?” Her sister shook her head emphatically.

“Maybe we’ll have another baby someday,” their daddy said. “Just like we had you, honey. This baby is not ours. It will never be ours.”

“If we did keep this baby,” Hope Renee said, “would it be Mr. and Mrs. Kilgore’s baby too?”

“We aren’t keeping this baby. Daddy already explained.” I looked at their father for help but he shook his head in defeat.

This was difficult beyond anything I’d imagined. Why had I done this? Had it been for the money? The new house? Was my sister right? Had greed put me here? I couldn’t believe that. I had to admit I seemed to be hungry for something but what?

Being a surrogate mother had sounded magical. Something beyond the realm of anything anyone I knew had ever done. Too, my sister’s name wouldn’t be on it or my husband’s. I thought it was my very own chance to shine. Had I really wanted to help this childless couple or was I only interested in helping myself? I was filled with questions that were getting harder to answer.

While I was doing all this figuring in my head, I’d failed to take something into account. My heart. It was as attached to this baby as the umbilical cord.

I had let my ideas of grandeur lead me straight into a pack of trouble. If I’d been led by anything other than selfishness, I wouldn’t have such cold feet now. If I’d gone through the proper surrogacy channels, instead of being in such a hurry, I’d have had time to make the right decision and maybe I wouldn’t be in the mess I was in now but I hadn’t and I was.

“Will that baby look like me, mommy?” Charity asked a moment later, trying to take it all in.

“No honey,” I said, “this baby will look like the Kilgores’ family.” I was lying of course. I didn’t know who this baby would look like and the more I thought about it, the more I knew if it looked like my babies I’d have trouble handing it over. I didn’t say that. I wasn’t convincing anyone here. Not even myself.

“Really, mommy, is Mrs. Kilgore’s baby in your stomach?” Hope Renee asked again, her cute face bunched into a frown.

“Yes,” I said, hoping the questions would soon end.

“Can we see the baby when it comes?”

“Maybe,” I said, then saw my husband shaking his head, scowling.

“Please, daddy, can’t we see the baby?” Charity asked.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said finally. He got up and started a fresh pot of coffee.

“Is that baby our little sister?” Hope Renee asked.

“No,” I said. “If she gets more children, then the baby will have a sister or a brother.”

“Are you going to help her get more babies, mommy?” Hope Renee asked. She was more mature and interested in all the details.

“No, honey. Just this one. Okay? Now, I tell you what,” I said, “you girls go play on the swings and mommy will fix some juice and cheese and crackers. Daddy will join us out at the picnic table.”