Watermelon Days and Firefly Nights: Heartwarming Scenes from Small Town Life (12 page)

Millard did not see why not.

O
N THE WEEKEND
that Shonda finally did come home from school, which was an hour’s drive away, she did everything she could to avoid being alone with her daddy. On Friday night, she went with her mother to buy groceries. After that, they went to Wal-Mart, where they stayed until after 10:00. Millard got to yawning so bad that he finally gave up and went to bed. On Saturday, Shonda didn’t get up until Millard had already gone to work. That night, she stayed holed up in the bathroom for what seemed like forever. When she came out, she said she had a headache and went up to her room. Not until Sunday did Millard find time to have a word with her.

“Come sit with me on the porch, honey. Let’s talk.” He patted the spot on the swing next to him. “How’s school?”

“Good, Daddy. Really good.”

“You like your new roommate?”

“Well, she snores and she has to have a light on at night, but other than that, I like her all right.” Shonda smiled.

“How about boys? You been talking to any boys?”

“A few.” She sat on her hands and unsuccessfully tried to look him in the eye.

“Been out on any dates?”

“Just a couple. Daddy, I’m twenty years old.”

“There’s time for that later, girl. You know me and your mother expect you to get your degree.”

“Daddy, why are you asking me all this? You know I’ve got lots of friends. Some of them are boys, and yes, sometimes we go out on dates. Everything’s fine.”

Millard called her bluff. “Jerry Jeff Maffett was traveling through. Says he saw you and some boy in a car at the Sonic. Said he saw you kissing.”

Shonda did not blink.

“That true?”

She did not answer.

Millard drew a breath. “Little girl, I raised you better than that. You know I did. I best not be hearing any more of you hanging all over some boy, putting on a show for the whole town. If ever I do, you can kiss college good-bye. I will bring you back home to where me and your mother can look after you. Do I make myself clear?”

He thought he had.

T
WO MONTHS LATER
,
Millard and Sugar got a late-night call. When they heard the ring, they picked up on different phones at the same time.

“Hello?”

“Hello?”

“Mama? Daddy? It’s me. I need to come home.”

“Tonight? Honey, what’s wrong?” Sugar could tell Shonda had been crying. Millard could too.

“I-I-I just want to come home.”

“What do you think’s the matter?” asked Millard after they’d hung up.

Sugar couldn’t guess.

When Shonda pulled up into the driveway well after midnight, she looked a mess—nose runny, skin blotchy, hair in her eyes.

Sugar reached her first. “Honey, come on in the house.” Shonda fell into her arms. Millard guided the two of them up the steps.

“What’s happened? Are you cold, honey?” Shonda was trembling. “Millard, she needs that afghan off the rocker to put around her shoulders. There now.” Sugar tucked the blanket close. “Baby, what is it?”

Shonda wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Millard handed her a clean handkerchief out of his back pocket.

“There was a car wreck. This afternoon.” Shonda rocked back and forth.

“Are you hurt?” Millard said sharply.

“No—yes—I mean, it wasn’t me. My friend was on his way home from work. They say he ran a red light. I went to the hospital as soon as I heard, but it was too late. I never even got to see him.” Her face crumpled. “I thought he would be all right, but he wasn’t. They say that he died, but I can’t believe he’s really gone. I just can’t believe that it’s real.”

Millard gathered his little girl in his arms and breathed a silent, selfish prayer of thanks. It could have been his child killed tonight. Even though she was twenty years old and had been driving for four years, every time he watched Shonda get behind the wheel of a car he worried that it might be the last time he would see her. So many kids have accidents. So many get killed. What agony the family of the young man must be going through right now!

“I’m so sorry, honey.” He kissed the top of her head. “You did right coming home. We’re so glad you’re here. Was the boy someone from around here? Did he have a family?”

“He had me.”

Millard stroked her hair. Sugar leaned close.

“You were dating this boy?” asked Millard.

“Yes.”

“Were you serious?”

Shonda drew her knees up under her chin, laid her head on her mother’s shoulder, and whispered, “We were going to get married. I’m going to have a baby, Mama.”

For a long, long time, no one said a word.

Finally, Shonda reached for Millard. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Please don’t be mad. I know what we did was wrong. We wanted to get married, but we couldn’t figure out how. I tried to tell you, but I couldn’t. I’m so sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Really, I didn’t. I know you’re disappointed. But please, Daddy, please don’t be mad.”

Millard didn’t respond.

It is hard to speak when one has no wind.

Sugar spoke instead. “Shonda, are you saying that the boy who was killed in the accident tonight was the one who . . .”

“Yes.”

“What was his name? Do his folks know about . . . about . . .” Sugar’s voice trailed off.

“They don’t know.”

Millard blew his nose. When he finally spoke, his voice was hard. “Shonda, you have hurt your mother. This is not what we expected of you, and it is not what we wanted for you. You knew better. Things around here will be different from now on. You—well, you have made your bed, young lady. Now you’ve got to lie in it.”

Later that week, when Shonda and Sugar moved Shonda’s things out of the dorm and back into her old room, Millard did not offer to help. When Shonda made his favorite pie, placed it, hot out of the oven, in front of him, Millard offered no thanks. When the two of them met in the hall during late-
night trips to the bathroom, Millard looked down and gave her wide berth.

Millard spoke to Shonda only when necessary and never looked her in the eyes. Weeks went by. The bigger Shonda grew, the more Millard let on that he was repulsed by the sight of her.

“Mama, why is Daddy acting like this? I can’t take back what’s happened,” Shonda grieved. “Is he never going to forgive me? And what about when the baby comes? Mama, there is going to be a little child in this house. He can’t ignore it.”

Sugar, caught in the middle, tried to soften Millard up. “Shonda’s not going to finish the semester, Millard. She doesn’t think she’d be able to hold up.”

“Suit herself.” He held the newspaper up in front of his face. Yet he wondered if Shonda was all right. She did look tired. He knew she wasn’t sleeping, because he heard her up walking almost every night.

Sugar tried again another day. “Shonda’s resting. Her feet are swollen. Dr. Strickland says she needs to stay out of the heat.”

“Fine by me.” Millard turned on sports. Swollen feet? Was that a serious sign? One of the waitresses at the Wild Flour Café had had something called toxemia a little while back. She nearly died. If he recalled right, it seemed like her trouble started out with swollen feet.

“Shonda’s going to the doctor tomorrow. She thinks she’ll find out whether the baby’s going to be a boy or a girl. Don’t you want to come along? You wouldn’t have to go in. You could wait out front. It would mean so much to Shonda if you would.”

“Sugar, I don’t want to hear about it. Do you understand? Shonda is mine and I take care of my own, but she made a choice. She knew how I felt. She threw away her morals. As long as I live, I will never accept any baby born like that as one of my kin.”

Sugar pushed harder. “Millard Fry, this little one will
be our first grandchild. It didn’t ask to be brought into
this world. It’s a little baby, as innocent as innocent can be. It’s not going to have a daddy. Least you can do is be its granddaddy.”

Millard laid down the newspaper and looked at the TV.

S
UGAR TRIED TO HIDE
her concern, but with every passing day, she grew more and more worried. Her Millard was a good man. Better than most. If he could reject his own flesh and blood, she shuddered to think how other people would react to her first grandbaby. Even though unwed motherhood was no longer uncommon, certain tongues were already wagging at the fact that Shonda was pregnant without a husband. Sugar cringed to think about how the community might treat the baby.

As Shonda’s delivery date got closer and closer, Sugar, at her wit’s end and believing that Shonda’s baby would have an easier time of it if she had some kind of edge, took to praying for God to make the baby either pretty or smart. “Lord, give her brains or beauty. Amen.”

N
O ONE EXPECTED
M
ILLARD
to be the one to take Shonda to the hospital. But as it turned out, Sugar was off running errands when, three weeks early and without a single warning contraction, Shonda’s water broke. When it happened, Shonda was standing at the sink, rinsing off supper dishes. For a moment, she just stared at the warm puddle between her bare and swollen feet. Then she put her face in the dishrag and started to cry.

Millard, who’d been sitting at the kitchen table, eating a piece of pie, heard her sniffle, then looked down and saw what was the matter.

“Shonda?”

“Daddy—”