"I know. It’s a miracle, ain’t it?"
"I never knew I’d feel that way when I held her the first time. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine. It was as if she really was."
"I know. You can love her all you want, Will, and we’ll pretend that she is. A year from now she’ll be callin’ you Daddy."
He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his mouth to Elly’s temple, then forced himself to sit up. "I best get that warm water now, little mother. The boys are waitin’ to come in and see you."
With a soft cloth and the baby’s soap, he sponged Elly’s tired limbs and sore flesh. Of the comfrey he fashioned a poultice, laid it on her torn skin and secured it with a cotton pledget and her plain cotton undergarments. He helped her don a clean white brassiere, clasping it for her before holding a fresh nightgown and watching her slip it on. He changed the bed and lifted Elly back into it before carrying out the soiled sheets to soak and finally going to fetch the boys, who’d waited in their rooms with the mysterious docility lent to children by solemn occasions.
"Ready?"
They nodded silently. Will hid a smile: Donald Wade had combed his own and Thomas’s hair, slicking it down with water until both heads looked flat as wheat in a cyclone.
"Your mother’s waiting."
They paused inside their mother’s bedroom door, holding Will’s hands, glancing up at him questioningly.
"Go on then, but don’t bounce on the bed."
They perched one on each side of Elly, studying her as if she’d turned into a character from one of her own fables, someone magical and shining.
"Hi," she said, taking their hands.
They stared as if mute.
"Did you see your li’l sister?"
"We hepped Wiw give her a baff."
"And we helped him dress ’er."
"I know. Will told me. He said you both done good." They smiled, proud. "Would you like to see her again?"
They nodded like horses making a harness jingle. Elly told Will, "Bring her here, honey."
She was asleep. When he laid her in the crook of Elly’s arm her fist went to her mouth and she sucked hard enough to make noise. The boys laughed and Will knelt beside the bed, leaning forward on his elbows. For minutes they all studied the baby while awe stole their voices.
At last Elly asked, "What should we name her?" She glanced up. "You know a pretty name, Will?" But his mind went blank. "How ’bout you, Donald Wade, what do you wanna call her?"
Donald Wade had no more notion than Will.
"You got a name, Thomas?"
Of course he didn’t. She’d asked him out of courtesy, so he wouldn’t feel left out. Touching the baby’s hair with a knuckle, Elly said, "I been thinkin’ about Lizzy. What you all think o’ that?"
"Lizzy?" Donald Wade scrunched up his nose.
"Lizzy the lizard?" Thomas put in.
They all laughed. "Now, where’d you get that?"
Donald Wade reminded her, "From the story you told us about how the lizard got bumps."
"Oh…" She continued fondling the fine black hair on the baby’s head. "No, this one’ll just be Lizzy. Elizabeth Parker, I think."
Will’s eyes shot to Elly’s. "Parker?"
"Well, you delivered her, didn’t you? Man deserves some credit for a thing like that."
Lord, in a minute he was gonna burst. This woman would give him everything. Everything, before she was through! He reached for the baby’s head and stroked her temple with the back of a finger. Lizzy, he thought. Lizzy P. You’n me gonna be buddies, darlin’.He stretched one hand to Elly’s hair, and circled Donald Wade’s rump with his free arm and touched Thomas’s leg, on the far side of Elly. And he smiled at Lizzy P. and thought, Heaven’s got nothin’ on being the husband of Eleanor Dinsmore.
Chapter 14
Will’s smile announced the news to Miss Beasley even before his words. "She had a girl."
"And you delivered her."
He shrugged and quirked his head at an angle. "It wasn’t so hard after all."
"Don’t be so humble, Mr. Parker. I would collapse in fright if I had to deliver a baby. It went all right?"
"Perfect. Started yesterday around noon and ended around three-thirty. Her name’s Lizzy."
"Lizzy. Very fetching."
"Lizzy P."
"Lizzy P." She cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes’m." He fairly twitched with excitement, a rare thing.
"And what is the P for?"
"Parker. Feature that-she named that little girl after me. After a no-count drifter who doesn’t even know where he got that name. Wait’ll you see her, Miss Beasley, she’s got hair black as coal and fingernails so small you can hardly find ’em. I never saw a baby up close before! She’s incredible."
Miss Beasley beamed, hiding a swift pang of regret for the child she’d never had, the husband who’d never rejoiced over it.
"You must congratulate Eleanor for me and tell her I’ll expect Lizzy to begin visiting the library no later than her fifth birthday. You cannot get a child interested in books too early."
"I’ll tell ’er, Miss Beasley."
Those were special days and nights, immediately after the baby’s birth-Will awakening to the sound of Lizzy tuning up in the basket, rising with Elly to turn her over and talk soft nonsense to her. The two of them together, laughing when the cold air hit the baby’s skin and her face puckered in preparation for the adorable soft sobbing that hadn’t yet grown to be an irritation. And each morning, Will cooking breakfast for the boys, delivering Elly a tray and a kiss, then giving Lizzy P. her bath before washing diapers and hanging them out to dry. He changed Lizzy’s diaper whenever Elly didn’t beat him to it. He dusted the house and put the bluebird on her bedside table. He sterilized the rubber nipples and prepared the watered-down milk and got the bottles ready during the days before Elly’s milk came in. He prepared supper and got the boys all fed and changed into pajamas before kissing them and Elly and Lizzy goodbye and heading into town.
But afterward was best. After the long day when he’d return and there’d be lazy minutes lying in bed with the baby between Elly and him while they watched her sleep, or hiccup, or cross her eyes or suck her fist. And they’d dream about her future and theirs, and look into each other’s eyes and wonder if there’d be another like her, one of their own.
They had three such glorious days before the bombs fell.
On Sunday "Ma Trent" wasn’t on, but Elly was lying in bed listening to the Columbia Broadcast System while the New York Philharmonic tuned up for Symphony #1 by somebody called Shostakovich when John Daly’s voice announced, "The Japanese have attacked Pearl Harbor!"
At first Elly didn’t fully understand. Then the tension in Daly’s voice struck home and she sat up abruptly. "Will! Come quick!"
Thinking something was amiss with her or the baby, he came on the run.
"What’s wrong?"
"They bombed us!"
"Who?"
"The Japanese-listen!"
They listened, like all the rest of America, for the remainder of the day and evening. They heard of the sinking of five U.S. battleships on a peaceful Hawaiian island, of the destruction of 140 American aircraft and the loss of over 2,000 American lives. They heard the voice of Kate Smith singing "God Bless America" and the national army band playing the "Star-Spangled Banner." They heard of blackout alerts along the western seaboard, where a Japanese invasion was feared and where thousands rushed to volunteer for the armed forces. There were amazing stories of men rising from restaurant tables, leaving unfinished plates, walking to the closest recruiting office to find the line of volunteers-within an hour of the first radio reports-already eight city blocks long.
In Whitney, Georgia-a short plane ride from another vulnerable shore-Will and Elly turned out the lights early and went to bed wondering what the next day would bring.