O Little Town (5 page)

CHAPTER 8

Christmas was on the cusp in Virginia. The flecks of snow hitting the windshield were beginning to freeze. It wouldn’t be long before the streets turned white. Up north people thought it was always sunny and tropical in Virginia. In the Deep South many didn’t distinguish between Virginia and West Virginia and thought it was always bitter cold like in Minneapolis. But it could be mild or miserable.

Buddy Briggs was miserable.

Sitting in his car waiting for the engine to warm up before turning on the heater to avoid the gust of cold air, he was trying to decide whether to go back to the station and eat his brown-bag lunch or go home. Without actually deciding, he and his car headed for home. Just as he pulled up in front of the ranch-style home he and Amanda had built a few years before, a strange car backed out of his drive and drove off in the opposite direction. He parked in the carport and sat there a few seconds. When he walked through the door, he would have to leave the policeman in the car. He needed to be all daddy and husband to handle this situation apart from the rancor boiling inside him.

He opened the kitchen door and saw them sitting at the dinette table. The two loves of his life. Out of habit he slipped the holster off his belt and put it in the first drawer on the right. They were staring at him, waiting. They were as surprised as he was when his anger and frustration melted into tears running down his cheeks. He dropped into a chair at the table. They cried silently together.

“Where do we, ah, start?” he finally said.

“I think we should …” Amanda began to speak, but Shirley Ann interrupted her.

“I’ll tell him, Mamma.” She looked at her daddy and her tears dried up and she was suddenly the young woman in charge she was going to have to be from now on.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I know you must hate me right now and I understand if you do. What I did was wrong but what has happened is not wrong. I love him and I want this baby, even though I know it won’t be easy.”

“Wait,” Buddy said with his hand up and head down. “Who is this ‘him’ that you love so much?”

Shirley Ann continued to look her father in the eye and said, “Louis Wayne Sterrett.”

“The basketball player?”

“Dr. Sterrett’s son.” Amanda interjected a more respectful identity to the young man she had just served lunch. Buddy wasn’t impressed. He sat still looking into Shirley Ann’s eyes waiting for more.

“We’ve been seeing one another since this past summer. And, Daddy, before you ask, I know how serious this is and I know what I want. I want to finish this semester and have my baby and then go back and get my diploma maybe next year.”

Asking the hard questions was second nature to Buddy. He did it every day with suspects and vagrants and jailhouse regulars. Quizzing and lecturing his only daughter about curfews and morals came easy. But sitting across the kitchen table from a sixteen-year-old who was about to make him a grandfather was the most awkward situation he had ever faced. Anzio was a card game compared to this. Maybe he couldn’t leave the policeman in the car. Maybe he needed some of that part of him to get through the next few minutes.

“How far along are you?”

The little girl wrestled control from the young woman across the table and all she could do was swallow.

“She’s two months,” Amanda answered.

“Has she seen a doctor?”

“No. That’s the next step. We need to do that just as soon as possible.”

“Then it’s not definite.” Buddy grasped for a thin hope that all this might be just a bad dream.

“It’s definite, Daddy. Trust me.”

“Bad choice of words, honey. Trusting you is how we got where we are right now.” Buddy hated himself for the words before they left his lips. He stood up and went to the bathroom to loosen his tie and wash his face.

The only sound he could hear above the running water was more sobbing coming from the kitchen.

Buddy wiped the water from his eyes and looked at the face in the mirror. When did little Buddy Briggs get to looking like this? When did the hollow jowls take over the chubby cheeks and the bright blue eyes take on that dim blue haze? He could remember when forty two years old was an old man. His father was only ten years older than that when he died. Ten years. Is that all he had? His grandson would be in the fifth grade when he was fifty-two. Only ten years he’d have with him. Or her. Maybe this was the blessing he was looking for. Maybe this was why all this was happening now—so that he would have at least ten years with his grandchild. He always thought he would die young. But this wasn’t about him and his father. This was about two teenagers raising a child of their own. His daughter and some doctor’s son who would probably never step foot on the altar. He had learned this much being a cop. A perpetrator will say whatever he has to at the time.

He was so caught up in his image in the mirror and the possibilities of a rich-kid snob being intimate with his little girl that he didn’t hear the bathroom door open and close. He didn’t know he wasn’t alone until he saw Amanda’s reflection. She sat on the edge of the tub. He never turned around. He just reached for her and they held hands for a moment before either spoke.

“He was here.”

“Who was here?”

“The Sterrett boy. Louis Wayne. He knocked on the door and came in like he’d been here a thousand times, and I have to tell you, as much as I wanted to kill him on the spot, he handled himself like a man. I’m glad you weren’t here, but if you had been, you would have been impressed with him.”

“Impressed with him? You sound like you approve of him and … and all this.”

“No, Buddy, I don’t approve. But I accept what I have to accept and make the best of it. I learned that from you. When you left for service and I was pregnant, it wasn’t what we wanted, but we made the best of it.”

“You weren’t sixteen.”

“No, I wasn’t. But I could have been. What kind of angel were you at sixteen?”

He turned and looked at her without the benefit of the mirror. But he had nothing to say.

“What if I had been sixteen when you joined up? Would you have changed anything? If we failed somewhere along the way, we’re going to have to admit that to ourselves and continue on with our heads high. We can’t change what has been done. We can only make the best of it. And the best of it is that our little girl is going to grow up faster than most and look life in the face sooner than most, and we have to be there to help her. We can get mad and feel sorry for ourselves all we want, but tomorrow we’re going to be another day closer to the truth and the truth is we’re going to have a baby in this family.”

“So we sign for them to get married and make like nothing ever happened?”

“No. Not like nothing ever happened. We just handle it. And as far as getting married, well yes, I guess we do.”

The phone rang in the living room. Amanda said she would get it and Buddy was glad.

“If it’s the station, tell them I’m not here.”

“Hello.”

“Amanda, I have to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?

“Are you by yourself?”

“Buddy and Shirley Ann are here. Why? What’s wrong?”

“That’s okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Dove, what is it? Where are you? I hear noise in the back.”

“I’m in a phone booth on Towne Street. But if you can’t talk, I’ll call later.”

“Dove, this is not a real good time but I can tell something’s not right. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m sorry I called at a bad time. I’ll call you later this afternoon. Really don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to you later. Good-bye.”

CHAPTER 9

The house was quiet when Doris got home at eleven thirty. Hoyt was next door with the Collier kids. Good neighbors are a blessing especially when they have twins the same age as your youngest. You can call it playtime instead of babysitting and free yourself whenever you need to. Doris made a mental note to return the favor over the holidays. But right now she would take advantage of the late-morning stillness, turn on the tree, wrap a few gifts and eat lunch by the television set while watching
As the World Turns.
Oakdale and the Hughes family were a welcome diversion to everything going on in her life. Christmas was coming down like the snowstorm everyone on the radio was predicting. Her dad was in the hospital. Her sister was acting like everything was fine when she knew everything wasn’t. Milton wasn’t worthy of her sister’s love, and she knew something was going on. What, exactly, she wasn’t sure and she wasn’t even sure Colleen knew. But she would find out. Just as soon as Christmas was over and the dust settled on this thing with her dad, she would find out.

The grilled cheese sandwich was just coming out of the skillet when the side door opened. She expected to see Louis Wayne coming back from wherever he had been all morning, but to her surprise her husband walked in.

“What are you doing here? I thought I just left you at the hospital?”

“Well, you did. But I needed to come home. Sit down a minute. I have to talk to you.”

“What?” she asked refusing to sit.

“Sit down.”

“Campbell, what has happened?”

Campbell took a seat and spread his hands across a Courier and Ives Christmas placemat. “Just sit down and listen to me. You had no more than left the hospital when Dr. Yandell paged me. I met with him. Doris, it’s not pneumonia or bronchitis.”

“Don’t tell me. Please don’t tell me.” Her legs demanded she do what her fear had not let her do before and she fell heavily onto the chair, dropping the sandwich on the table.

“You had to know this was a possibility from the very start.”

“No. No. No, I didn’t have to know anything. You’re the doctor in the family. You had to know. You’ve known all along.” She spit the words out of her mouth like shards of glass. Her husband was to blame for this horrible news because someone had to be. The sick anger in her stomach was telling her to strike out at someone close.

Campbell kept his tone steady. “I only had suspicions. Jerry Yandell wasn’t sure until the tests came back just an hour ago.”

“Does Dad know?”

“Not yet.”

“Who’s going to tell him? Who’s going to tell Colleen? Does she know?” Her mind raced with all that had to be done as she glared across the table at the man who always loved her, in spite of her moods or accusations.

“No one knows anything yet. And I’ll tell him if you want, or Jerry can tell him. He’s Jerry’s patient.”

“Who’s going to tell Louis Wayne and Hoyt? What are we going to do?”

“I’m going to give you something right now to calm you down.” He took out a small bottle of pills and put one in her hand.

“I need to see him.” She stood up suddenly.

“No, you don’t. We’ll tell him first, then you can see him.”

“How long does he have? What am I saying? I can’t believe I’m saying that. How long?” She was pacing and frantically ringing her hands while holding on to the little blue pill her husband had given her.

“That’s a judgment call, honey. No one can be sure.” Doris didn’t buy his evasive answer. She didn’t repeat the question. She just stared at him stone-faced until he responded.

“More than a few months. Less than a year. That’s the best I can tell you without going into all the details, which I will if you want me to.”

“No. No, I don’t want you to. I don’t want to hear it. That’s all I need to know. I need some wine to take this pill.”

“I think not. One or the other but not both.”

Doris couldn’t cry and she couldn’t stop her mind leaping from one family member to the other. Who should she call first? Colleen. It had to be Colleen and then the boys. Thank God Hoyt and Louis Wayne weren’t home.

“Will you tell the boys? I’ll call Colleen.”

“There’s time for all that. I know you have to tell Colleen but let’s consider telling the boys after Christmas. Why overload them with bad news now? There is no urgency here. Plus it will give you time to digest it.”

“You’re right. You’re always right. You make me sick with always being right. Now get me a glass of wine to take this pill.”

Colleen had always been Walter’s favorite daughter. Doris knew this and understood why, but she didn’t know what to do about it. As a child Doris had tried to please him with piano recitals, ballet reviews, blue ribbons from horse shows, straight As, perfect attendance in everything she undertook, and even giving her firstborn his middle name—Wayne. She always felt she had to work to get his attention but it seemed to come natural to Colleen. They had a bond nothing could break. Every mistake Colleen made, Walter thought was cute. If the teacher sent a note home saying she hadn’t done her homework, Daddy would send a note back saying they were overloading her. If she wanted to quit the Girl Scouts or the basketball team, that was fine with him because they were riding her too hard and keeping her too long after school. Colleen was sweet and never knowingly took advantage, but she just did what she wanted and Walter approved. When Doris would complain to their mother, she would say, “Now, now, Doris. Don’t be jealous of your little sister.” But she was. She loved her. She just resented how their father never saw flaws in Colleen but seemed to look for them in her.

Doris took no pleasure in what she had to do because she, like their father, fell under the natural charm of Colleen and didn’t wish to hurt her. She had to be the one to tell her, even though Campbell could do it better. After all, he was a doctor and this is what he did. He cured people and when he couldn’t cure them he broke the news to them. And then the next day he did the same thing all over again. She used to wonder if this would harden his heart against the sensitive things in life. She wondered this for years, and when she honestly told herself the truth one day, she realized that he was the same loving man she had married long ago. It was she who had hardened her heart because she wanted to be strong like him. The more she tried to be like her father and her husband, the more she became someone the neighbors didn’t like. Why didn’t the world welcome strong women? Show a little strength and people think you have a heart of stone. But enough of this. She had to call Colleen.