Vada Faith (24 page)

I picked up a fruit tray, praying my horoscope was right.

“Please, mommy. I wanna be a witch.” Hope Renee tugged at my shirt trying to pull me back toward the costume display. I nearly lost my balance.

“Stop it!” I screamed, grabbing her arm roughly and shaking it. “Stop it now!”

It took only a moment for me to realize what I was doing. I let go of her arm but by then several people were staring at me.

What on earth was wrong with me? As I stood in line to pay for the food my hands shook.

“Let’s go,” I said, gently taking Hope’s hand. “We don’t want to be late for the picnic.” She had already forgotten the incident and was skipping by my side.

“I forgot to ask,” my mother said, when I got back into her car and slammed the door. “Just where did that new car in your driveway come from.”

“Roy Kilgore,” I said, still upset at myself as I handed both girls new crayons. “John Wasper is going to pitch a fit.”

“You can’t really blame him, honey. You shouldn’t be taking gifts from that man.”

“I didn’t take it,” I said, frustrated as I buckled my seat belt. “When I got up this morning there it was. In the driveway. Delivered sometime after John Wasper left for work and before I woke up.”

“Where’s your Metro?” She pulled out into traffic. “I didn’t see it this morning. Of course, it would be hard to see a bitty Metro with that new car sitting there all wrapped up in a giant red bow. Reminded me of that movie with Steve Martin and Goldie Hawn. Remember?” She chuckled. “He wrapped a red bow around that whole house for his girlfriend.”

“My Metro is in the shop getting a tune up and the car in my driveway is not a joke. I’m in a world of trouble. John Wasper is going to be furious. He thinks I instigate this stuff. I don’t really. Mr. Kilgore said I needed a new car and I agreed with him, that’s all. Anyone can see my Metro is shot.”

My mother zipped around a stalled car.

“Mama,” I cried, “slow down. You almost sideswiped that car.”

“I wasn’t even near that car,” she said, weaving in and out of traffic.

“I wish you’d slow down.”

“I refuse to drive like an old man,” she said, but slowed the car. She had no choice. Cars were bumper to bumper now as we neared the court house and the town square. The homecoming picnic always drew a huge crowd, both old and young.

I was trying to ignore the fact that mama was tailgating the red pickup in front of us.

“Maybe your husband will bend and let you keep the new car. It’s a beauty.” She whizzed past the red pickup. “You should be getting a lot for what you’re doing for those people, honey.”

“That couple has already given me enough. According to John Wasper, way too much.”

She looked over at me. “What does he mean by that?”

“You know what he means.” I glanced back at the girls ashamed of how I’d behaved lately. They were coloring happily in the new coloring books their grandmother had given them.

“I can see why he would feel that way about Roy Kilgore,” she said. “What’s done is done.” She looked over at me. “I see you’re wearing that cute little maternity outfit.”

“Yes,” I said, checking out my white maternity shirt and brown stretch pants. “It’s a little early but I’ve gained weight and they’re not too big. You’re right about one thing.” I sighed. “What’s done is done.”

“Well,” she said, “if you ask me keeping the car would help you both. I know your man is stubborn. Just don’t let on you want to keep it, honey. He might just give in.”

“Not on this,” I said. “I don’t want the neighbors to know about the car either.

That’s why I had you help me take off that bow. They’re already keeping tabs on me. I see curtains move every time I walk outside. I just hope they pick up that car before John Wasper goes home to change for the picnic. I left them a message.”

“Here we are girls!” She pulled into an empty parking space near the courthouse. “Let’s see if we can find Grandma Louise in this crowd.” She hopped out and released the girls from their seat belts. They began scanning the crowd.

The courthouse sat in the middle of a grassy square. Picnic tables dotted the lawn today. Next to the courthouse lawn was the city park where the girls loved to play. The parade would be coming down the street any time now.

“I see Grandma Louise,” Hope Renee shouted, running ahead of us across the courthouse lawn.

“Me too!” Charity squealed, following her sister.

“Over here, everyone,” Louise called, waving us over to where she’d put two tables together under a cluster of trees.

“Hey,” Bruiser said, from his lawn chair as I walked past. He tipped his Coke my way. “It’s the big television star.”

“That’s me,” I said. I was self-conscious suddenly, and the maternity top didn’t help things. It ballooned around me in the breeze and I pushed it down.

“You want my autograph?” I joked pulling a pen from my purse and grabbing his arm.

“Nah,” he said, grinning. He pulled his arm away. “You better save your autographs for your fan club. You’ll have one soon.”

“Son,” Louise called, “help me put this tablecloth on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, hopping up. He grabbed one end of the red gingham cloth and the two of them spread it over the tables.

I put my basket on one of the tables. People were starting to spread the tables around us with casserole dishes and drinks.

“Now start unloading the coolers,” my mother-in-law said to Bruiser, indicating the two she’d brought.

“Sure,” he said, opening the coolers. He helped his mother arrange several dishes on the table. When he finished, he said, “I’ll be back in time to eat.” He pecked his mother on the cheek. “Hang on, Ma,” he said. “I got a surprise for you.”

“Now what’s that about?” She asked, looking after her son.

I didn’t say anything. I was sure I knew what his surprise was. I had enough trouble with my own surprises and didn’t want to mess up his.

“Hope Renee,” I said, catching my daughter as she raced around the table for the third time, “go swing with your sister until it’s time to eat.”

“Okay,” she said, glumly, and ran toward the swings.

“Where’s Bobby Joe?” I asked Louise, as I picked up a small wicker basket and started filling it with crackers and cheese wedges I’d bought.

“Bobby Joe will be here soon,” Louse said, bustling around the table putting out condiments. “Will John Wasper make it?”

“If he gets off early enough,” I said, popping a cracker into my mouth. “He wants to hear Benny Johnson’s speech. Can you believe it? The meanest kid in our graduating class is mayor.”

“I hear he’s doing a fine job,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Now, fix yourself a plate, dear, and relax while the girls finish swinging. I hope Helena comes to eat soon.” She turned toward the street. “Listen.” The high school band sounded in the distance. The parade is starting,” she said, excitedly.

“Yes, it is.” I tried to sound excited too. “Mama will eventually get here. She likes to say hello to everyone she knows. It might take awhile.” I took a deep breath. The sky was ocean blue. “What a beautiful day for a picnic.”

“We’re supposed to get rain later.” The other woman glanced up at the sky. “That weather man could be wrong.” She smiled at me. “You’re right, honey.” She patted my arm. “It’s a beautiful day for a picnic.”

I felt almost close to her as I put some food on a plate and took it over to one of the lawn chairs. I ate a piece of chicken and a hot roll. Then I put my plate on the ground beside my chair, kicked off my shoes, and leaned back. A gentle breeze swept across me. I closed my eyes and in seconds I was asleep.

When I woke, the high school band was marching down the street in front of us playing a lively number. The town’s new fire truck roared up behind the band and several young firefighters hopped off and passed out candy to kids lining the street.

Behind the fire truck marched a group of uniformed men. “Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice came over the speaker as the band number ended, “I have a special announcement to make. I give you the new emergency medical technician team of Shady Creek, West Virginia. Let’s hear it for these fine men. It’s the end of our volunteer era folks. We now have our own medical team and firefighters and it’s been a long time coming.” The speaker was on the back of a convertible and he stood and clapped along with the crowd.

“Uncle Bruiser!” Charity and Hope squealed when they spotted their uncle in his new uniform among the group of young men on the street.

He grinned and waved at the girls standing on the lawn.

“So that’s where he’s been spending all his time,” his mother said, shaking her head, her face melting in a smile. It was the first genuine smile I’d seen from her in a while.

I didn’t say anything. I knew he had been spending as much time with my sister as he was learning to be a medical technician.

A clown on a unicycle grabbed everyone’s attention as he spun around in the middle of the street and juggled red balls over his head.

Next came a black convertible carrying Miss Shady Creek who sat next to Mayor Benny Johnson his brown hair still in a crew cut. Miss Shady Creek smiled, reminding me of myself when I was her age and had my whole future ahead of me. Yes, I’d been on that float back then and look at me now.

I had to bite my lip to keep from crying on this beautiful sunny day. Suddenly, I felt my world crumbling around me.

“Isn’t that your friend Midgy?” Louise interrupted, pointing to the group coming up behind the mayor’s car.

“Save-Our-Lady!” Midgy chanted along with the other women. “Save-Our-Lady-Cem-e-tery!” She kept up the chant while several people in her group passed a hat for donations.

“Yes,” I said. At least her interest in my surrogacy had waned as she became immersed in the cemetery project. I wanted as little attention now as possible.

“Look who’s coming there.” Louise shaded her eyes.

The sun was so bright I could barely see the long dark car coming into view.

Dottie Kilgore sat on the back of the seat, waving, her hand cupped like the Queen of England. She smiled as if surrounded by an adoring public. I stood to get a better look at the procession.

Roy Kilgore sat at the wheel of the big car, effortlessly guiding it along behind the feed store float which sported a live cow. Pink roses covered the car A sign on the back of the car read, “Kilgore’s Home Improvement.” Suddenly Roy spotted me and waved. When he blew the car horn, I wanted to sink into the ground. At that moment his wife caught my eye. Instead of smiling and waving she stopped her hand in mid air and turned away. Roy smiled and waved again and then the dark car slid forward.

I turned to see my husband coming across the lawn toward me. “Hi there,” I called loudly, hoping he hadn’t seen the couple in the long dark car. They always put him in a terrible mood.

“I see you,” he said, when he got close enough. “I see you.” He scrutinized me from head to toe and frowned. “Why are you wearing those, those clothes?”

“What’s wrong with them?” I looked down at myself, puzzled.

“They’re maternity clothes, Vada Faith.”

“Yes,” I said, “they’re maternity clothes, John Wasper. I’m pregnant. Remember? Whether you want me to be or not.”

“Do you have to announce it to the world?”

“I’m not announcing it to the world,” I said, feeling worse by the minute. “I am trying to be comfortable for your information. I would think you would want me to be.”

“I would think you would want your husband to be comfortable.” He went over to the table and started tossing food on a plate. “I am not comfortable with you wearing that big outfit. Not today.” He glared at me. “Not here at the picnic.”

“This outfit is not that big,” I said, my anger slowly rising. “Do you want me to stay in the house until this baby comes, John Wasper Waddell? Because if you do, just say so. I’ll go home right now and lock myself in. I will just tell everyone not to look for me until it comes. Is that what you want?” I glared at this stranger who was my husband. “Just say so, and I will.”

His mother walked over to the table and busied herself setting out more plates, cups, and plastic forks.

“Now James,” she finally said, turning to pat her son’s arm, “this is not the time nor the place to have this little, uh, discussion.” She smiled. “You two kids kiss and make up. Come on.”

Ignoring her, my husband stomped away and went to sit in one of the lawn chairs. He started eating, shoving food into his mouth, keeping his head down.

I opened my mouth to blurt out that I was keeping my baby and what did he think of that when his older brother, his broad face beaming, came striding up to the table and poured himself a cup of lemonade. His mother gave him a quick hug and he blushed. I swallowed my words as he smiled over at me.

“Hey, everyone,” Bobby Joe called, coming across the lawn to join us, a young woman swinging on his arm, and my two girls following close behind.

”Look who we found on the swings,” he said. The girls giggled. “Uncle Bobby’s got a girl,” Charity cried. “Uncle Bobby’s got a girl.”

“This is Pattie Clyde, everyone,” he said, smiling as he introduced the girl on his arm.

“Hi,” I said, smiling, glad the muscles in my face were still working. I made the girls a plate before they ran off to play with their friends. I cut myself a generous piece of graham cracker pie and sat down at the picnic table. The pie was my reward for being so miserable.

My husband was eating dessert and watching me.

“I’d love to do what you’re doing,” Pattie Clyde confided quietly, sitting down beside me on the picnic bench. “I’d be scared to death.”

“I was scared too,” I said, as I finished the pie. “I’m still scared. There’s no turning back now.” I sounded calm but I was shaking inside.

“You’re a hero in my book,” she smiled warmly. “Very brave.”

“Come on,” Bobby Joe said, coming over to nudge Pattie playfully, “let’s go swing with the girls.”

“I’m no hero,” I said. “Far from it.” She smiled at me again as my husband’s younger brother pulled her away laughing.

I glanced at my watch. The picnic was almost over and it was time to say what I had to say. My husband was back at the table getting some lemonade.