If I Had You Read online

  That regret seemed only a pinprick compared to her regret today.

  When her mother took her by the hand and brought her into the small talk, Tess felt as much on display as the giant yellow Easter egg in the front window of Camille’s gift shop. Her biggest “mistake” was here for everyone to see. Beyond that, the bittersweet idea of Creede’s marrying someone, the history Tess shared with him—and of course everyone in town knew about that—made this day all the more hollow and jumbled and sad.

  Her mother had become involved in a deep conversation about the fabric that had been purchased in Oklahoma City for Candice’s bridal gown. As if Tess had conjured him up, Creede came toward her through the crowd, wearing a black tux and a dove-grey shirt with a collar that stood against his throat, secured by one onyx stud. For a moment she jumped and looked around, thinking she shouldn’t see him before the wedding. But then she realized: that was only for the bride.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “You doing okay?” she asked.

  “A little nervous.”

  Tess glanced at his face and then glanced down. When she tried to see the ground, she encountered her own robust belly instead. She felt her cheeks flush. She patted her huge middle and tried to make light of it. “I’ve finally done it. Aren’t you proud? I’m bigger around than a cow.”

  Creede took both of her shoulders in his hands and examined her. “You look good, Tess. You look pretty.”

  “As long as you don’t look any farther south than my shoulders.”

  “No, I mean it. You’re all—” He pushed his hands in his tuxedo pockets and examined her. She looked at his wrists instead of his face. She could see onyx cuff links poking out there. “—bloomy and healthy.” He brushed one of her cheeks with his knuckle. “You’re pink here. And your hair’s shiny again. There’s light in your eyes. You ought to be a model for maternity clothes or something. You look like you’re, I don’t know . . .” He frowned, fumbling for words. “You look like you’ve got a wonderful secret.”

  That flustered her all over the place. Stop noticing his hands. They stared at each other a minute, her arms feeling extremely small next to the other expanded parts of her body. “Hey,” she said. “Congratulations.”

  “Yeah,” he said, as the hand bells began to play. “You, too.”

  “Don’t be sarcastic.”

  “Whoops, I’m getting the signal from back there. I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay.” Oh, no. This baby made her a complete, stupid emotional mess. She had the oddest feeling that she was going to cry. I won’t do that today, oh no I won’t. Trying to cover, she said something dumb instead. “Have a good time.” Have a good marriage. Have a good life.

  “Oh, yeah.” He turned back to her, gave her a slight grin and a salute with two fingers that made her heart knot as he walked backwards, still grinning at her. “I will.”

  After he disappeared, Tess wandered across the shaved green lawn for a few minutes looking for her mother. The acrid smell of Fred’s sweet-pickle relish, mesquite-smoked brisket, and hot links stung her nose. Pain tugged at her back and, everywhere she tried to alight, she found herself surrounded by the loud hearing-aid conversations of the elderly residents of Heritage House.

  “I know I’m not hearing as well anymore. Used to be, I could eavesdrop without even listening. Now if I want to eavesdrop, I have to really try.”

  “Dewdrop? Did you say dewdrop? Oh I know, Virginia. I hate not being able to see the dewdrops dry.”

  “No, not dewdrop. Eavesdrop!”

  “Does Clara like her new dentures? I wouldn’t have them. Too much trouble, taking them out at night.”

  “What did you say, Judith? Did you say you got into trouble staying out all night?”

  “No! Taking my teeth out at night.”

  Just then, one of the elderly ladies noticed her. “Oh, dear child. Just look at you!” And she reached to touch Tess’s middle without asking, extending parchment hands. Tess suspected that she brought back fond memories of long-ago childbearing years. The little ladies swamped her with questions. Did she have a name picked out? Was she going to breastfeed? Was the baby due soon?

  And Tess answered good-naturedly, “It’s still a month away.”

  “What did you say? It’s due today?”

  “You’re carrying it so low. You must have already lightened.”

  “Frightened, Eunice? She doesn’t look frightened.”

  “I said she must have alreadylightened.”

  A chair opened up and Tess sat down. Their words moved in on her just as their fingers had. Lightened. Frightened. If I could just bend over and stretch out. Waves of heat tingled across her back. If I could ever again find my toes and stop aching.

  The hand bells rang out extended versions of Ave Maria and Jesu, Joy Of Man’s Desiring. Obviously, this was going to be a traditional drawn-out southern ceremony, long on pomp and short on party. Someone had climbed over and tied gigantic white bows on each bridge trestle. And, no. Things weren’t beginning just yet. There was a hymn. A flute solo. A soprano rendition of Love Will Be Our Home sung by Caroline Rakes who, when she hit a high note, sent an entire flock of sparrows thrashing about and protesting the unaccustomed noise.

  “There you are. Oh, good. You saved me a seat. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  How odd it seemed, hearing her mother’s voice and being somewhat glad. Tess thought again of that protective glare she’d noticed in Nora’s eyes. It unnerved her that her mother would act proud when there was so much to be ashamed of. She didn’t know how to decipher that. Her entire life had been the other way around—Nora acting ashamed whenever Tess tried to do something, anything, to make her mother proud. When Tess leaned toward her mother to whisper, her mother leaned toward her, too. The moment felt so surprising and sweet, Tess was almost afraid.

  “I decided something just now.”

  “What?”

  “If the baby’s a girl, I’d like to name her.”

  There was a long moment of silence while Tess expected her mother to claw at her arm in horror and say, “No! You mustn’t! Sending this child along with a name you’ve given it would be like sending it along with your unpleasant, drug-addict past.” But Nora didn’t say any such thing. She smiled and said, “I think that would be nice. Can you do it?”

  Tess’s breath came out all in a rush. “I asked at prenatal class. The adoptive parents can change it but I can still do it if I’d like. And they might keep the name I pick.”

  During all these weeks of talking to Janet Whitsitt, Tess had poured over thick folders with letters and pictures, trying to pick the best parents for her baby. She’d narrowed her choice to three families, and the slick photographs, the emotional pleas in their letters, still danced before her eyes at night when she tried to sleep.

  “What name have you picked, Tess?”

  “Tansy Aster. Like the flower—the little purple ones, like daisy stars with yellow centers. That’s who she’ll be.”

  “Tansy. Tansy Aster,” her mother repeated. “That’s pretty. I like it.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “They grow all around here.”

  “I know. I’ve seen them.”

  “I looked it up on the Internet. There’s a legend about an angel who loved humans and grieved for them; she loved them so much that, when God made her leave the earth, she looked back and cried. And where her tears fell, starflowers sprang up. Asters.”

  “Named after a starflower. I do like that.”

  For a moment Tess thought her mother might touch her. She saw Nora’s hand move and pull back, as if she’d thought it through and considered better of it. Pastor Pete Franklin stepped onto the bridge and the moment ended. Behind him, Creede and his groomsmen filed out. The first bridesmaid began stepping lightly across the grass, her hands clutching a bouquet of quivering baby’s breath and mauve-colored roses that perfectly matched her dress. Next came an
other bridesmaid and another and another, until Tess decided that the bride must have more friends than Texas had fire ants. The Wedding March began and, as the audience stood, Candice Murfree, as tiny and perfect as a Dresden doll, moved toward the altar on her father’s arm.

  Tess had never seen a person with a waist so tiny; why, there was nothing to her! And the whirl of jealousy swamped Tess for so many different reasons. To be marrying Creede. To be a person whom everyone approved of. To have a waist like that when Tess felt like she’d always be five miles around! When Candice appeared with the afternoon light slanting across her like sun pouring through a high cathedral window, Tess saw what her own life might have been. Beneath the bride’s sheer veil, Candice’s thick blonde hair was twisted into three fat, entwined knots, resembling a pattern Tess had noticed once in a barbecue bun. Tess had a sudden, idiotic vision of herself, as if she were there in Candice’s body stepping toward Pastor Franklin’s arms. As if it were she who was being blessed. As if it were she being welcomed.

  Creede stood beside his father, as straight as the San Jacinto monument, with his hands locked in front of his jacket. He had this silly, tender expression on his face that Tess recognized because, when he’d been younger, he had looked at her that way, too.

  “Dearly beloved,” Pete Franklin started, “we are gathered here today . . .”

  At that moment, Tess’s heart throbbed with yearning, and her body throbbed, too—so strong and complete that she didn’t know where the mental hurt stopped and the physical hurt started. As a man and woman were joined in holy matrimony in front of her, Tess felt like crying again, so she lowered her eyes and stared at the fresh spring grass poking through, struggling to take hold in the dirt beside her mother’s feet.

  PART TWO

  Tansy Aster

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The throbbing had a pattern to it. It tightened, cinched like a strap around her pelvis, became more than cramp and heat. It became pain.

  Suddenly, Tess was terrified. What had Mrs. Whitsitt told them to do about preterm labor? Lie down on which side? Right? Left? Drink three or four glasses of something. She looked around for the refreshment table. The only beverages she could see were sweetened iced tea and Dr Pepper. Everywhere she looked, people were eating white-frosted cake.

  Tess hadn’t worn a watch. She hadn’t any way to time these. But when the next pain hit, it came much too soon. It hit much too hard. Tess let out a strange, low cry, which caused a small rustle among the guests around her. “Mama?”

  “Oh, my word,” Heritage House Eunice whispered. “Oh, my word.”

  “Mama, I need you. I think I’m having the baby.”

  Evening was coming on. Tess hadn’t wanted to have the baby at night. She didn’t know why, but it had been a thought that she would give birth in the morning; it would seem like the beginning of something. Not at night, like something hidden.

  Nora slipped in beside Tess, put an arm around her and held her up. “Are you having contractions?” she asked.

  Tess nodded.

  “For how long?”

  “I’m not sure. A while.” All the strength Tess had used to hold herself together today was suddenly gone. “Let’s just go.”

  “How often are the pains coming?”

  “Often enough.”

  Thank goodness Creede and his new wife had started the dancing, spinning in each other’s arms on the makeshift floor. They didn’t notice her. On their way out, Tess had to lean against one car in the parking lot and arm the sweat off her forehead, counting and breathing deeply. Her mother walked her to the Lumina and, by the way Nora kept chattering, Tess could tell that she was nervous, too.

  “Honey, I’m going to try to get your father.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “I know he went through all those classes with you. I’m going to find him.” Nora punched numbers into the cell phone while she was driving. The Lumina wove a little on the road. “How do you go about phoning someone on this thing if they’re out of the area? Do you dial the area code, or do you not?”

  “You dial the area code.”

  Twice her mother tried it, different ways, and must have got a recording both times because she shook the phone and stopped listening.

  “Mother, I think you should just drive.”

  “Oh, honey. Oh, honey.” They bumped and jarred over the potholes in this narrow, two-laned, neglected road. “Of course, your father would be working overtime repairing roads somewhere else in this county!”

  Tess leaned hard against the car seat and gripped the armrest for dear life.

  “Know what happened when you were born? My water broke and was running down my legs. I called your dad at the highway department and said ‘Ben, you have to come home because the water broke.’ He thought I was talking about the pipes in the house and told me to call the plumber.”

  “Mama,” Tess said, her voice diminished like someone speaking down a tunnel. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For”—Tess made a circle with her hand.—“all this.”

  A slight, tentative smile from Nora. “I’m the one who told you that you ought to do it.”

  No matter how difficult this day, some part of what had happened had begun to bond them. For good or ill, they were in this together.

  Once Nora focused on her driving, they made it to the Collin Health Science Center in forty-five minutes.

  She sped the entire way.

  Once they walked inside the front door, though, and Tess was admitted to a room, Nora felt out of place, like she had nothing left to do. She watched helplessly as a nurse brought ice chips. She helped Tess focus and showed her the little jagged mountains on the monitor that meant she was having another contraction. All the while, she couldn’t help wondering, Just think what this would have been like if it had been a joyous occasion. If Tess had a nursery set up with clothes and toys, and friends to share stories with, and the baby’s father had been here.

  The nurse, whose nametag read PATTI, R.N., told Tess it was good her cervix was dilating. She told her she was doing a fine job keeping her breathing steady, because that meant her blood pressure stayed low.

  And Nora couldn’t help thinking, I wonder how different it would be, feeling proud of this situation instead of embarrassed.

  The nurse wrapped a cold washcloth behind Tess’s neck. She encouraged her to handle one contraction at a time. She inserted an IV port, saying “We’re not going to need this, but we do it just the same.”

  This baby will always be a part of me, too.

  And I’m afraid. Please, Father. Help her.

  The whole room seemed filled with the fetal monitor once they turned it on—the swishing, insistent heartbeat. “I’ll give you a crash course here.” Patti filled a Styrofoam cup with more ice chips. “You want to help her breathe?” The phone rang in Nora’s hand. She fumbled to answer it.

  “Ben?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Is that you, Ben?”

  “Were you trying to get me?”

  “We’re at the hospital.” She ran fingers through her hair. “How fast can you come?”

  He groaned. “I’ll be there as fast as I can. Maybe thirty minutes or so. It’s going to take me a little while.”

  “Now, you’re the one who has to set the mood.” Patti squeezed her arm after Nora hung up. “Keep the atmosphere light. Make her give you eye contact, tell her how much faith you have in her. Smile at her a lot. Can you do that?”

  Could she do that? Tell her daughter she had faith in her? Nora felt like she was nodding from a thousand miles away.

  “Watch how I breathe with her, then I’ll expect you to take over. How does that sound?”

  Nodding. Nodding.

  Tess was watching, her eyes narrowed with purpose.

  The vocabulary grew simple as time wore on. Good job. Perfect. Focus. Here comes one now. Take a good one. There. There.

  Right in the midd
le of a contraction Nora remembered something that ought to be taken care of. She waited until Tess’s hand loosened on hers, whispered, “What about the adoptive parents? Wouldn’t they want to be a part of this? Shouldn’t we call them?”

  Patti glanced from Nora to Tess. Then back at Nora again. “What do you think?”

  “I haven’t settled on anybody yet.”

  “We could decide it together now, if you’d like. If that would help.”

  Tess rested her head on the pillow. “I just want to do this right now. I don’t want to think about those people. I just want this part to be all mine.”

  “Here’s a contraction again.” The nurse directed Nora’s attention to the line as it began to climb the scale on the monitor. The whole time Tess worked through the contraction, she kept her eyes narrowed and leveled on her mother, her lips pursed and swollen. When Nora held the Styrofoam cup to her daughter’s lips, Tess’s jaw was clenched so tight that a shudder ran down Nora’s spine.

  Patti brushed Tess’s hair from her forehead, the exact gesture that Nora longed to make. So easy for a stranger. “You’re on the other side of it. That was a hard one. Well done. Are you ready to push? I think you are.”

  Tess nodded.

  “You can’t push yet. Your father isn’t here.” Nora was frantic.

  “Yes,” Dr. Strouth said from the doorway, “but the doctor is.”

  Who could have guessed it would go so quickly? Several other medical staff had entered the room, Nora didn’t even know when, and suddenly everyone was busy and talking at once, donning blue gowns and paper caps and taking position.

  “She’s doing a fantastic job.”

  “Make a C out of your body, Tess. Remember how to do that?”

  “I can’t do it.”