Mike Wells - Baby Talk

The worst thing about all this was her mother’s hypocrisy. The prim-and-proper “Mrs.” Paula Crawford couldn’t bear the thought of having a daughter who was an unwed mother, worried about what all her friends and everybody else in Chattanooga would say about it behind her back. Yet, “Mrs.” Paula Crawford wasn’t even married anymore—Annie’s father had left them when Annie was eight years old—but Paula had no problem sleeping with whomever she pleased. Before Doug it was Charlie, and before Charlie it was Wallace, and before him...well, Annie had lost track of them all. But for her daughter to have a baby without being married... no, we couldn’t have that, could we!

But now, Annie regretted cutting off communications with her mother. She didn’t think she could tolerate another night with Neal, and there was nowhere else she could go. Having an infant to care for, she couldn’t just drop in on a friend and spend the night. Not that she had many friends in Atlanta, anyway—she had only moved there a few months before she met Neal. She had grown up in Chattanooga, and most of her childhood friends had moved away. She hadn’t made any real friends since she had moved to Atlanta, just a few other single girls she had met at the dance clubs. She had painfully discovered that when you get married and have a baby, all your single friends slowly but inevitably distance themselves from you. Shellie, her old roommate, hadn’t even called once since Annie had married Neal.

Her mother’s phone rang and rang and rang. Just before Annie hung up, somebody answered.

When Annie heard that old familiar voice, the voice of Mother, the voice of the prim-and-proper “Mrs.” Paula Crawford, her vocal cords seem to freeze solid. She hadn’t expected an answer this time, either, and she didn’t know how to begin.

“Hello?” Paula repeated in an annoyed tone, as if she thought it was a prank call.

“Mama?” The word just sort of squeaked out of Annie’s mouth. And though she hadn’t intended it, her voice sounded very childlike.

“Annie! Is something wrong?”

“No,” Annie said, struggling to compose herself. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Oh.” Her mother’s tone immediately shifted from concern to I’m still angry and hurt.

There was an awkward silence.

“Listen, Momma...I...I don’t know what to do...I’m scared .”

“Annie, what on earth is the matter? I thought you said nothing was wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, really. Not yet, anyway.” Annie paused, not knowing how to continue. “It’s Neal, Momma. He...well, I think he’s going crazy or something.”

There was another long silence. Annie had a feeling her mother was fighting the impulse to say “I told you so.” But instead, she said, “Why don’t you just tell me exactly what happened, honey? You’re about to give me another ulcer.”

Annie stalled for a moment, not knowing how much detail to provide. If she was completely open about everything that had taken place, her mother’s already low opinion of Neal would plummet to rock bottom. On the other hand, if she glossed things over too much, it would make Annie sound like a “complainer,” something her mother detested, especially in a wife.

Annie opted for a compromise. “Neal thinks Natasha hates him. Every little negative thing she does, he blows out of proportion.” Annie tried to laugh lightheartedly. “He thinks Natasha’s out to get him.”

“Out to get him?”

Annie glanced down at her sleeping baby, feeling silly now for even calling. But she was still afraid. Very afraid.

She bit her lip, then launched headlong into a detailed account of everything that had taken place. “Yesterday, Neal was convinced that Natasha had started talking to him...”

When she finished, there was another long silence.

“Annie, a five-month old baby can’t even sit up by itself, let alone t—”

“I know , Mamma.” Annie was fighting tears. “What am I going to do? I don’t have anyplace to go.”

“Doug and I were just getting ready to drive down there.”

“Down where?”

“To Atlanta. Doug got tickets to the Braves game this weekend.”

A prick of sadness touched Annie’s heart. Her mother had been planning a trip to Atlanta and hadn’t even called. But after their big fight and what Annie had told her (“Get the hell out of my life and stay out!” were Annie’s exact words), what did she expect?

“I don’t want to mess up your trip...” Annie said, hoping her mother might volunteer to cancel it and stay home.

“I really can’t back out now, honey. Not this late. Doug went to a lot of trouble to get the tickets.”

“Well,” Annie said, “I guess I’ll have to find someplace else to stay, if things get much worse.”

There was a long silence. “Annie, you can come home anytime you want, you know that.”

Annie hesitated. The last thing she wanted to do was get underneath her mother’s thumb again. That was the reason she had moved away from Chattanooga in the first place. And she certainly didn’t want to look like a failure in her mother’s eyes—when she married Neal, Paula had predicted that the marriage wouldn’t last a month, that Annie would come running home to Chattanooga with her tail between her legs.

Annie said, “I just might need to come home for a couple of days, you know, until this gets straightened out.”

“A couple of days, whatever you want. Just stay as long as you need to.”

Annie felt a little better. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. You’re my daughter, honey. You can always come home whenever you need to.” She paused, then added. “Your room is just like you left it.”

Annie felt tears coming. “Thanks, Momma.”

“Do you still have your key?”

Annie wiped her eyes, composing herself. “Yeah, I still have it. When will you and Doug be back?”

“Sunday night, or Monday. When are you coming?”

“I’m not sure. I was thinking about coming tonight.”

“I’ll call you and check on you, then.”

“You don’t have to do that, Momma. I’ll be fine.”

After they hung up, Annie wasted no time in preparing to leave. Telling her mother she was “thinking” of going to Chattanooga tonight was just to save herself some face—she had no intention of being within a 100 mile radius of Atlanta when Neal got home.

CHAPTER 6

After Neal made his last afternoon delivery, he drove the empty van back to the flower shop, as he always did. He wished he could have taken the van home and driven it back to the shop the next morning, but of course that was out of the question. There was absolutely no way he would be able to hide his condition from the Snell’s now. His was no longer able to walk without an obvious limp, and every now and then he had severe bouts of chills and shook from head to toe. At the very least, he would have to go inside the shop and give Grammy the delivery receipts and the keys to the van. And sometimes they made him make another last-minute delivery or two, if the runs weren’t too far away.

Neal agonized over all this as he drove towards the shop, trying to think of some solution. But of course, there was none.

However, it turned out that all his worrying was for naught.

When he limped back into the flower shop, the look on both Grammy’s and Mildred’s faces told him that the jig was up.

“Daddy!” Grammy squealed over her shoulder. “Neal’s back!”

Neal’s heart sank. “Daddy” was what all the Snells called the old man, even Grammy, his mother. The two old women looked back down at their work, pretending to be absorbed in it, the way people do when they’re about to witness something deliciously unpleasant.