She collapsed on the bed.
“And then Renard said it hasn’t been all good. Well, he’s probably not half the man he was when he left anyway. Maybe that’s why I haven’t heard from Andrew.” She sighed. “That’s my point though. You can’t trust these men. Not you, not me. Sometimes I think they’re the weaker sex really: They’re just more prone to unnatural changes that distort their perspective and leave you all alone. Don’t think just ’cause he’s coming back you’re home free. Did he write about the baby at all? Did he say he would have it?”
Evelyn shook her head, without answering. A few weeks ago, on Mama’s urging, Evelyn had promised to notify him that she was expecting. She and Mama had decided he deserved to know, that he might fight harder knowing he had life on the other side. And Evelyn had written the words out and everything, but when it was time to seal the envelope and walk it up to the mailman’s truck, she dragged for a long time. She didn’t know why then. Now she wondered if she suspected that the fear of being a father would drive him out further from her, or worse, make him feel he had nothing to lose.
“He’s the kind of man who would own what’s his,” she said to Ruby now.
“Maybe that’s the kind of man he was, but war changes people.” Ruby looked at her, her eyes narrowed in a sliver of rage.
Then Ruby burst into tears. She put her head down.
“Don’t cry now, Ruby.” Evelyn started to stand up to comfort her, but it took too long in her compromised state. By the time Evelyn reached her, Ruby had stopped.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Nobody will ever say Ruby cried over a man, a no-count one at that.” Ruby looked down again. “It seems like everything and everybody is being taken from me, and you’re getting added to the list.”
“Oh, no, Ruby.” Evelyn embraced her. She didn’t know where this burst of love had sprung from, but she wondered if it was from her daughter, still a promise in her belly, or the vow Renard had made to return.
“It’s true. You know it’s true. You’re getting Renard back, and I got”—she opened her hands over a ball of air, then collapsed them—“nothing. I got nothing.”
“You got me,” Evelyn said.
“Yeah, right. As soon as that baby comes, and Renard gets here, you’re going to be out so fast it’ll make your head spin.”
“Oh, Ruby, who knows if he’ll even have me when he comes back?”
“He’ll have you.” Ruby nodded. “He’ll be more pleased when he sees you like this. Trust me. Everything always works out for you.”
Evelyn had wavered until that second, but her sister’s words rooted her faith. There were only so many times Ruby said anything kind, and she’d never lie just to save face. No, maybe it was true. Maybe Evelyn could relax into it: Renard was coming back. Renard was coming back. Not only that, but he’d be more excited to see she was expecting. It was going to work out.
Evelyn rubbed her sister’s back. “We’re sisters, Ruby. I’m never going to desert you.” She didn’t know how many times she repeated that, but at some point, she looked down, and her sister had fallen asleep.
Jackie
Winter 1987
Jackie had called in sick the last few workdays to avoid seeing her parents, but she’d had the weekend to calm down, plus she was running out of paid leave. She had decided the night before that she would head in this morning, and she woke up early, got dressed in her knee-length blue dress with lace at the top, spent some time on her makeup—etched the eyeliner over her lashes just so—let Terry drive her all the way to the front door instead of dropping her a block from the school. There were no more secrets after all.
Her mama was composed as ever, and they discussed the status of the school day with polite nods while Jackie folded her kids’ just-in-case clothes, washed the paint off their smocks, hung them to dry. It didn’t take long before Mama started really talking though and Jackie felt trapped inside what she might say.
“We didn’t want to upset you the other night, Jackie Marie.”
“No?” Jackie was far less concerned about her parents’ opinion after talking to Terry, and she could tell that came across in her plain expression; her mother looked at her as if she didn’t recognize the woman who had spoken.
“No,” she said. “Of course not. You’re not just my daughter, you’re my friend, and I would never want to cause you pain.”
That softened Jackie to her. Her mother was her friend, her best friend since Terry had gone, and Jackie had shut everyone else out. Mama walked over and stood next to her, and Jackie leaned onto her shoulder.
“I know, Mama,” she said, sighing. “But you have to let me make my own decisions.”
Mama nodded. “I’m working on it,” she said. “I’m working on it,” she repeated. Jackie looked at her hands as she spoke, noticed the veins that had started to pop, sharp tubes like the inside of a spider web. When had that happened?
“I talked to your daddy,” Mama went on, “and he’s coming around. I’m making it so that he’ll come around. I just want to ask you before we move on any further with this—are you sure this time?”
Jackie paused before she answered. The question was so antithetical to her new method of survival; the only way she had maintained her peace these last few months was by embracing the fact that she would never be sure. And who was sure about anything? Were they sure Daddy wouldn’t walk outside in a few minutes and get toppled over by an eighteen-wheeler? That Mama wouldn’t go in for her next mammogram and walk out with a death sentence? Who of them could pretend to be sure?”
“I just want to be certain,” her mama repeated. “Because it’s not just you, it’s that baby.” She clutched her heart.
“It’s been good for him to have a father,” Jackie said, trying to dodge the question.
“Now it is, but— Never mind, I didn’t even want to get into this, Jackie.” Her mother stepped back from her and Jackie’s head wobbled from the shift. “You were right to say it’s your decision, and as your parents, we just need to stand by you. I just want to be as clear as I can, are you as sure as you can be?”
Jackie didn’t speak for a while, then when the last paintbrush had been cleaned, she looked up. She nodded.