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PART III
GLADYS

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88B

“So … are we still pals?”

She nodded.

“Best pals?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about Dot? She feels as bad as I do.”

“You’re sticking up for Dot?” she asked, bemused.

He shrugged and looked away. “She and I both did it to you. Gio damn near broke up with her over it and he would’ve quit his job if he could get any different one besides calving, which was too far even for him. Cows scare him.”

Marina’s brows had gone up through this. “Gio stuck up for me?”

“It was about character and he sets a store by it, scraping some together for himself like he does.”

“Oh.”

“You ready to go downstairs?”

She was shaky and she noticed she was spotted with blood. “Oh, yuck,” she whispered, thoroughly embarrassed.

“Yeah, Sugar, let me get you to the bathtub first. I’ll bring some macaroons and NuGrape up for you.”

She blinked up at him. “Wha … Why … ? You don’t like coconut or grape pop.”

“I keep them around,” he mumbled reluctantly as he helped her to the bathroom, then sat her down on the toilet.

“Why?”

He reached around to fill the tub the same way he had the night he’d kept her from dying. Then he knelt at her feet and helped her out of her drawers, which were soaked. He tossed them in the sink without a thought. “Well … I … in case, well, in case you came back. I … wanted— Well, shit, I don’t know what I’m trying to say. This is your home and you like macaroons and NuGrape and you should have what you like in your home whether you’re here or not.”

Tears pricked her eyes. “You … ” She gulped. He was so awful, yet so wonderful at the same time. She didn’t want to be happy. She wanted him to stop trying to make her happy.

“Up,” he muttered, and she held her arms up so he could take her nightgown off. “Now, I don’t mind the sight of blood—can’t, living with so many women—but I honestly don’t know how a woman who just had a baby takes care of herself. I’m good about pulling them out, but don’t have any experience with after. Right now I have to get you in the tub and get you something to eat so you can go downstairs and have a proper breakfast. Sounds like Dot’s already cooking.”

Yes, Marina could hear now, the faint sound of pots and pans. She was still tired and weak enough that she allowed Trey to clean her up a little before allowing him to help her into the tub. The water was hot, and she sighed and closed her eyes. Her private bathroom at the Grandparents’ was far more nicely appointed than this, but here she wasn’t a guest. This had been her home for a mere three months, but she was surprised at how much she had missed it.

“Y’all right, Sugar?” he asked as he stood.

She looked up at him. He was a little wet, and had spots of blood on his white singlet and his worn brown work trousers. He was watching her carefully.

“I’m fine,” she said softly with a little smile. “I’m not going to drown myself.”

“A’ight,” he muttered, then disappeared, only to reappear in what seemed seconds with a tin of cookies and an open bottle of ice-cold pop. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and took it, drinking deep, her eyes closed, until she had polished the bottle off completely. They didn’t have NuGrape in St. Louis; she’d even had to tell a soda jerk how to make a catawba flip. Trey took the bottle and sat on the toilet to hand her a cookie. She ate that one, then realized she was so hungry she’d eat the whole tin if she didn’t exercise some control.

“You can have them all,” he replied simply when she said so, somewhat embarrassed by her appetite. “Nobody’s going to yell at you or look sideways at you.”

“But Dot’s making me breakfast. I wouldn’t want to be rude.”

“You stay in that tub as long as you want. Baby’s fed, warm, and asleep. Breakfast’ll keep. Meantime, you have something to eat.”

It was one thing to rush her bath because Grandmother Susanna could not sit still for more than three minutes at a time. It was another thing to be in her own bathtub with no one waiting on her and encouraged to stay there as long as she wanted.

“What time are you going to work?”

“’Bout two. I have a couple of interviews lined up for a girl to help you out here while you’re recuperating. Then I’m going to sleep in my office for a few hours before I get to work. I am plumb worn out.”

Marina’s brow wrinkled. “Trey, go to bed. Don’t hire someone to do my job. I … It’s a small house. I hardly need a maid.”

He shrugged. “I’m not going to let my wife bust her ass after she just had a baby, and that’s all I’m going to say about it. I’m not giving you a choice because I don’t want to hear any of that ‘good wife’ bullshit.”

Marina tried to hide her pleased smile, but couldn’t. He didn’t see it, so it didn’t matter.

“Holler when you want to get out.”

“Thank you, Trey,” she whispered.

He reached out a hand and ran his fingers through her hair, his head tilted, his mouth in a wry smile, his ice blue eyes warm. “I missed you, Marina.”

*  *  *

Marina had fallen asleep in the tub after eating half the tin of macaroons and only awoke when the water got too cold to bear. She emptied the tub and ran more hot water to actually bathe herself before calling for Trey.

“Comin’!” he yelled from downstairs. “Nice nap?” he asked when he appeared, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. “See that there?” He pointed to a pile of cotton that hadn’t been there before. “Liz Albright came around and dropped those off.”

“Oh! That was nice of her.”

He merely smiled and helped her up and out. He grabbed a towel and dried her off, then slipped a fresh nightgown over her head. “Here’s you some draws.”

“Do you … ” she began hesitantly as she arranged the fabric in her drawers the way Sister Albright had taught her so long ago. “Why doesn’t it bother you to help me like this? Do you help your girls?”

“Neh,” he said, waving a hand. “But we all share one bathroom and we aren’t shy with each other. Don’t have time to be pussy-footing around each other, polite and all. Plus, you know, when you have whores, you need to know when they’re incapacitated,” he said with a hauteur that made her smile. “I told you, Sugar. We’re animals and we’re disgusting. Just life. Okay, you done? Let’s get you downstairs to meet our Button and get you some real food.”

Our Button.

Marina stood carefully, but not carefully enough, because she was still woozy. Trey caught her lightly and guided her to the stairs, then down them slowly. She felt his strong body pressed against hers to keep her steady and his big, warm hand wrapped around her elbow. No one had ever taken care of her like this and she would never have expected a husband to do so, if she’d ever thought she would have a husband. Men were above such things.

Her first glimpse of her own kitchen in months was more comforting than she had ever imagined it could be. Her bathtub. Her kitchen. Her home. Her swing bed in the back yard wrapped up for winter. There was Dot, standing at the table wringing her hands and looking like a dog about to be kicked. Marina gave her a weak smile. “Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi,” Dot returned, her sad mouth trembling and her eyes sparkling with tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered miserably. “So sorry. For everything.”

Marina couldn’t hold anything against her now, but things would have to change going forward. “Accepted. Thank you.”

“Um … I made eggs, but they’re kind of cold. And so’s the bacon. Trey said you like bacon.”

She almost laughed. “Um. Sure.” She looked around. “Where’s my baby?”

“Oh!” Dot squeaked and popped to attention, scurrying to a corner by the stove. Trey helped Marina to the table and she sat gingerly. Dot brought a tiny bundle to Marina and laid it in her arms.

Marina looked down. She hadn’t seen the baby at all, as she was too exhausted and weak to do much more than sleep and let Trey do … whatever he had done from the moment he had cut the cord to the moment she woke up in her bed.

“Hello,” she whispered, caressing the sleeping newborn’s cheek with a finger. She was tiny. Wrinkled. Red. A little waxy. She needed a bath. Her eyes were closed and her tiny mouth was pursed. “My little Button.”

“She, um … she likes the goat milk, but Mama said not to give it to her too much if you can nurse. Don’t give her cow’s milk if you can help it.”

Marina blinked and looked up at Dot. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. There’s something about it Mama doesn’t like feeding babies. She says they do better with goat milk. And, well, she ought to know, with how many girls we’ve fostered, waiting for the adoptive parents to come get their babies.”

“All right,” Marina murmured, looking back down at this tiny human she and Trey had made. “I think you and I are going to get along just fine, huh, Button?”

The mantel clock began to chime and Trey started, then looked at the kitchen clock. “Goddammit. I’m late. I gotta run. Hope to get you a helper by Monday.” With that, he dropped a kiss on Marina’s head and bolted out the back door.

“Marina,” Dot murmured with a hint of desperation as she sat beside her with a plate of cold eggs and bacon. “I’m so sorry. I— I’m such a brat. I didn’t know you— Do you still feel that way? Like that, that you want to die?”

Marina shook her head. “No. I … wouldn’t have told you that, that I felt that way, even if I’d stayed. But— The problem was right then and, well, Trey had to do something quickly because I— I really wanted to. Now, I don’t. Being in St. Louis was good. I learned a lot of things and I feel a lot more like an adult now.”

“What did you do?”

“Oh, Dot! I have been to New York three times now!”

Dot gasped and clapped her hands over her open mouth, her eyes wide.

“Washington, D.C. Boston. Chicago. Philadelphia. I’ve been to Broadway plays and shopping at all the finest stores in the country and museums and art galleries and— Goodness. I wish you could have been with me, which was why I— Well, anyway, Grandmother Susanna was so fun, but you won’t believe— That is what she does all the time. She didn’t take me on trips because she wanted to do something special for me. She took me because she was going anyway!”

Dot’s eyes grew wider.

Then Marina began to gush. She gushed while she ate her breakfast. She gushed while Dot scurried around cooking more food and cleaning up. She had to stop when Button awoke and began to root, and Dot had to help her through the first nursing. Then when Marina got a little used to the pain of having her nipple practically bitten off, she continued to gush.

“An electric sewing machine!” Dot squealed when she got to that part.

“Yes! Dot, I swear I am going to make their Christmas traditions ours. They were so light and fluffy. And Midnight Mass was lovely. The music was— Oh, I can’t describe it. Absolute perfection.”

When Marina was running out of steam and Button had finished eating, Dot said, “You probably ought to change her now,” while politely waving her hand in front of her nose.

“Oh! Yes, yes. I— I forgot almost everything your mother taught me.”

“It’ll come back. Do you need help up the stairs?”

“Yes, please.”

It was midnight before Bishop Albright was able to check on Marina and Dot, who would be staying over until Trey found someone.

He looked as hale and hearty as ever, his warm smile lighting his face and his voice full of sincere concern for her welfare. He told her he’d send a doctor around the next day to see if her between was torn and if so, to stitch it, unless she wanted him to do it right then (“No, no, that’s all right!”) because he didn’t think Trey would know that might need to be done.

“I’m rather impressed,” he said approvingly when she gave him what few details of the delivery she could remember, being out of her mind with pain. “I think the boy’s missed his calling.”

Marina said nothing to that, as she didn’t know if Trey still wanted to keep his educational goals to himself.

He gave her a few other doctorly instructions before giving Dot a hug and a kiss and bidding them to lock up tight after him.

Marina was looking forward to falling into bed to sleep, but that was not to be.

She had a baby now.

And babies kept speak hours.

88B

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