Southern Belles, a Novel About Love, Purpose & Second Chances (9781310340970) (13 page)

As usual, my mother was waiting on the
porch, waving, with a smile a mile wide, and her dimples a mile
deep. She looked so happy to see us. I felt my heart thump heavier
and heavier. I needed to be careful when I hugged her so she didn’t
feel the baby bump, just yet. Walking out on the porch next was
Richie patting his belly with both hands.

“What is he doing?” CeCe said, as she
spotted him.

“I don’t know but I’m going to kill him. He
is having too much fun with this while I am freaked beyond all get
out.” I said feeling my heart in my throat at this point.

“Well let me know when you tell them. I can
always come and pick you up and we can go to Trixie Rox if you need
to get out. Besides, it’ll be good to see Tru and have some
chocolate milkshakes and cheesy fries. Actually, I read something
that said that babies need chocolate and cheese to grow strong and
healthy.” She said, nodding.

“You mean dairy products?”

“Yea, maybe something like that. It’s all
the same.” She nodded again.

“Okay CeCe, thanks for the baby advice. That
sounds good—I’m craving chocolate and cheese fries sound really
good.”

“Just call me then. I will help you with the
bags—do not pick up the heavy ones.” She demanded.

“Okay, fine.”

“Hi, Mrs. Buchanan! Richie can you come and
get Char’s bags?” CeCe said, smiling with her arms open to hug both
of them.

“Hi girls, I’m so glad you’re home. We have
a whole month now before you have to go back. CeCe you’ll have to
come over for some peach pie. I made one for you to take home to
your parents and more so you’ll come back over here before you
leave again.” My mother said, beaming.

Richie hugged me tightly and felt the baby
bump push up against his belly. He pulled back and smiled. “Mom, I
think Char’s finally gained some weight.”

“Good, she needed to—Miss Skinny Bones,” my
mother said, hugging me tightly.

I pressed my chest into her hug and tried to
suck in my tummy so she didn’t notice anything different, other
than my bigger boobs. She slapped a few kisses on me and then took
my hand dragging me inside, leaving Richie to bring everything else
in. He deserved it for his comments that reminded me what the
nausea felt like—that stinker.

Though Christmas was still a week away my
mother had already begun making cookies and special pastries. She
and I loved Christmas. It was our time to spend together, in the
kitchen, making mouth-watering confections that were irresistible.
I knew how to cook a few things that my mom taught me but I was a
much better baker. I had very fond memories of her, Evi, and I in
the kitchen, singing and rolling out cookie dough while
sweet-smelling aromas drifted through the house luring my father
and brothers for a taste. I wished I could go back to those times.
They were good times when I didn’t have to worry about a baby on
the way, how I was going to tell my parents about my one-night
stand that’s making them young grandparents and when Evi held me in
her lap and told me fairy tales that made everything magical.

I picked up a shortbread cookie freshly
frosted with lemon icing. It fell apart in my mouth and the lemon
glaze oozed with citrusy goodness. As fast as I swallowed the
cookie, I picked up two more indulgences—this time a chocolate
hazelnut espresso cookie and a chocolate truffle. The truffle was
like chocolate silk running down my throat. It was smooth and
creamy. I loved anything with hazelnuts and chocolate, however, the
coffee flavor grabbed my attention. I had slowly been getting more
energy over the last few weeks. Drinking coffee, something I rarely
did before, helped give me an extra boost. I decided to search for
a cup to grab some coffee when my mother looked at me strangely. I
found a half pot, of what smelled like French Roast, on the
warmer.

“Since when did you start drinking coffee?”
My mother asked.

“Since I had to stay up late studying,
really hard to make that 4.0 you were bragging about at
Thanksgiving.”

“Ahhh, that makes sense. I didn’t start
drinking coffee until I had the twins and then that was the only
thing that gave me enough fuel to keep up with those crazy boys.”
She said smiling.

“You let me know what kind you like and I
will make sure to get some for you to take back to school.” She
said while rolling out some dough for rainbow colored pinwheel
cookies.

“Thanks mom.” I said holding the cup up to
my mouth trying to not make direct eye contact.

I shuddered to think about my mom and dad’s
response to learn of their only, unwed, daughter’s pregnancy—with
their first grandbaby. The coffee, black, tasted good and helped to
clear the remaining bits of chocolate and hazelnuts in my
mouth.

“Ah ha! There’s my girl!” My father said
warmly as he came in briskly to welcome me home.

“Coffee? That’s a new development.” He
questioned as he reached down to hug me and kiss my forehead.

“It helps keep her 4.0 GPA honey. I already
told her that we would be happy to send her back with a few cases.”
My mother smiled as she rolled the pinwheel dough into some
cellophane to freeze.

“Huh. Didn’t you start drinking coffee when
you were pregnant Suez?” He looked at her and then at me as he
stuffed a cookie in his mouth. “Are you pregnant Char?” He said
looking serious before breaking a smile and laughing.

“Richard! Don’t mess with Char. She just got
through with finals.” She frowned.

Barely breathing, I managed a forced smile.
“Dad! Gees’! I just got home.”

He hugged my neck, again, before grabbing
two more cookies and leaving for the living room.

That night I lay in bed rehearsing my
script. I had thought about it every night since I found out I was
pregnant. I almost wished I would have said something when he was
teasing me earlier since he was in a good mood. I rolled over and
propped a little pillow under my belly bump. My curtains were drawn
and I could see hints of the moon peering in. My mind wandered back
to that night. It was all a memory now—one that was fading quickly.
At times, I could still make out his face. My mind was better at
recalling his words and how I felt with him. I wondered if the baby
would look like him, maybe his smile or his eyes. I felt my heart
sink as I thought about where he might be tonight. Who was he with?
Was he okay? Did something happen to him—is that why I never heard
back from him? Is he still alive? These questions and many more ran
through my thoughts as I watched the clouds pass over the moon
which was now coming into full view from where I lay in bed. Maybe,
he would come back and look for me. He knew I lived in St. Marys
and everyone knew me. They didn’t know Lucy, though, the dumb name
I told him that night. I should have told him my real name when I
had the chance. I knew he was overseas if he were still alive. He
would be at school now but what if he came back for the holidays?
They had a beach house somewhere outside of St. Marys. They could
come back for Christmas.

When I was young and lying in bed at night
I’d pretend to be Sleeping Beauty and that my Prince Charming was
searching all over the woods before finding me asleep in my bed. I
pretended that all my stuffed animals, tucked in with me, were the
animals of the forest keeping watch. Prince Charming would come to
my bedside and tell me how much he loved me. He told me that he
wanted to spend his forever with me. I pretended that he kissed me
and I awoke with a smile. Now, more than ten years later, I wished
that my
real
Prince Charming would come find me. That he’d
tell me that he had searched high and low for his true love. I
closed my eyes and envisioned a happily ever after with Skylar.

I awoke the morning of Christmas Eve to a
light frost on the windows. I could hear clatter coming from
downstairs. I had been home for over a week and hadn’t worked up
the nerve to tell my parents. I had made an appointment, while I
was still in Athens, to meet with an OBGYN the week after
Christmas. I needed to tell my parents before then. I was going to
need to use their vehicle to get to the appointment unless I had
Richie drive me. It was getting harder to find the courage to tell
them. Everything was so good, for now. My parents were spoiling me
after missing me for the last four months. Tonight we would have a
house full of family to celebrate. My family had always celebrated
Christmas on Christmas Eve. Every year was the same and every year
I looked forward to this day more than any other. Not for the
presents we were showered with but for the fun we had together. We
started with a big sit-down dinner. Next, my father would read the
story of Jesus’ birth; followed by a very long prayer—something we
thought he did to keep us waiting longer for the presents. All the
seats in the living room were taken up by people. The floor was
full of more people and presents. During the story, I would catch
my brothers shooting spit wads at Uncle Harry, who always fell
asleep. Our dad was so engrossed in the reading that he never took
notice of the chuckles from us or the snoring from Uncle Harry. Mom
laughed and shook her head. Uncle Harry was a good sport. He kept a
straw in his back pocket to retaliate against the younger
hooligans. It was as if he fell asleep on purpose just waiting for
the moment they’d attack so he could shoot back. His straw was
usually pre-loaded and ready to go at the first ping against his
balding forehead. One year he even prepared a small plastic baggie
with flour that exploded on Jason’s head causing a large white
cloud all over. We almost all died laughing trying to conceal
ourselves while dad continued reading with all seriousness.
Whenever my dad looked up from reading the Bible story everything
was still. It was fun to see who got caught in the cross-fire. Once
Grandma Rose got a wet wad of paper stuck in her hair—which was
meant for Peter. She grabbed a couch cushion and surprise-attacked
Jason who shot at Peter—whom was sitting next to Grandma Rose. Poor
Jason always got it the worst; but then again he is quite the
instigator.

After the story, the long-awaited present
opening began. Each year we switched who got to go first. My mom
handed out presents to everyone. Then either the oldest person down
to the youngest would take turns opening their presents or the
youngest to the oldest got to start. After the presents were opened
and the paper picked up, we did a ten dollar gift exchange game. We
drew numbers of who could pick first and everyone got a number
telling them what order they were to pick a present. The fun
started when someone chose to steal someone else’s present. We had
to make a rule of a maximum of three steals because sometimes the
same gift got picked over and over again. After the last person
picked their gift or stole from someone else, the first person who
went was allowed to steal anyone’s gift which hadn’t been stolen
three times. We laughed at some of the ridiculous steals and
alliances people made for stealing other’s gifts so they could
ultimately end up with what they wanted most. After the game was
over, we snacked on endless trays of goodies until we left for
midnight mass. That was one of my favorite places to be on
Christmas. The church was always decked out in beautiful white
lights, Douglas Fur trim, candles and beautiful trees adorned with
an array of glass bulbs. They kept the main lights off and led the
mass by candlelight and the glow from the tree lights. It seemed
like half the town packed in on that one night—causing an overflow
with most of the younger people left to sit in the balcony section.
CeCe, Richie, and I mostly joked around and people watched from up
there. The hymns, from that part of the church, floated up in an
ethereal accord. The night ended with most of my siblings and I on
the couch watching movies until we passed out. Christmas Day was
another day for socializing with family and feasting on fine
foods.

“Char, when are you going to…you know say
something?” Richie asked quietly as he snuck in and jumped on my
bed.

“I don’t know. I know I need to say
something soon. It’s just been so nice to forget about it for a
little while.”

“Yeah, you probably need to say something
before the baby pops out on the living room floor.”

“You’re ridiculous Richie.”

“I know.”

“I have an appointment next week at a new
OBGYN in the area. I have to say something before then to mom and
dad. I might be able to find out the sex of the baby by then and
I’d like someone to go with…maybe you or mom.”

“I can go with you if you’re still alive.”
Richie smiled.

“I need you to help me tell them. I just
don’t think I can do it myself.”

“Char, you know I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.”

For most of the day I remained silent,
contemplating when I would tell them. I didn’t want to do it with
everyone there at dinner, although, maybe they would be less likely
to choke me if there were witnesses. I thought about it for a
moment and then worried about grandma having a heart attack. That
would be a crummy present for Christmas. I helped my mother wrap
the remainder of presents for others and for the present exchange
game. I enjoyed making things look pretty and wrapping presents was
comforting. I liked making pretty bows and fancy tags for the
gifts. I wanted everyone to feel special when they got their
presents and I felt that pretty packages would show them that they
are that much more loved. I had already had a countless number of
cookies and was starting to feel my throat burning. I had the worst
heartburn. I had never known what it was until I became pregnant.
My doctor said it was normal but nonetheless, a nuisance.

After the presents were done hours later, I
helped my Aunt Juanita set the dining table. Once my dad put in the
table leafs we had enough seating for fourteen. Everyone else,
mostly the younger ones, sat at the kids table nearby.