All About B.A.D. (8 page)

“You look sensational! You will undoubtedly be the prettiest woman in the room. Don’t forget to put in a plug for
The Herald
when you accept your scholarship.” His lopsided grin made him look younger.

She blushed at the compliment, knowing how much time she had poured into this very moment. She wanted him to
see
her. It was wrong, but her rational thoughts had been crowded out. The dress was a little lower-cut than usual. Her hair was softer, her look inviting. She admonished herself while primping, practicing words cooed in a demure tone. 

“Thank you. And you will be the best-looking escort, too.” The words sounded trivial, silly.

He took her arm and led her to the car. His fingers on her arm caused her to shiver. What would a kiss on her neck create? A tingling sensation surged through her thighs at the thought.

She had carefully crafted and rehearsed what she hoped would be a lively conversation illustrating her charm and wit. Their exchange was short-lived, ending as he reached the door of his secondhand sedan. 

“I didn’t have time to wash the car. Sorry. At least the crumbs from the kids’ snacks were vacuumed up and the windshield was cleaned. That’s something, right? Oops. Watch out for Joey’s toy on the floorboard.” 

Reality was rarely as good as fiction. 

Of course he didn’t see her. His vision was filled with the others who shared his house and heart. Paul offered her his friendship, encouragement. She earnestly prayed to want nothing more.

He wasn’t sitting in his usual place. Bernadette wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Payne glanced her way and shrugged.

At least the night hadn’t been wasted; she had chosen some potential baby names. If it was a boy, he would be Conner, a tribute to her father. A girl would be Alice, honoring her mother. Would it soften the hearts of her parents who had hoped for better things for their daughter? The card from Lone Grove restated the fact that she was expecting. It didn’t offer excitement, condemnation or help.

So, we’ll be grandparents. We hope you’ll let us know when the baby gets here. Take care, Bernadette. Mama

Well, what had she expected? Two postcards and one tense phone call since she left what seemed a lifetime ago without any goodbyes. She had inherited her mother’s stubborn pride and her father’s strong will. Some hard edges had been whittled away since leaving Lone Grove, self-doubts nudging against a stern resolve, but she was still Bernadette Ann Donahue.

“Miss, more coffee over here.”

The request scattered her thoughts and stirred her into action. She walked to the kitchen to retrieve fresh coffee and a better attitude. As she turned back into the dining room, Josh walked in. 

He sauntered to the back, absent any hint of last evening’s outcome.

Bernadette filled the customers’ cups, smiling and chatting and angling for tips, struggling to keep her composure in check. Glancing to the back, he caught her eye.

The face stared back blankly. Payne walked over to speak with him and blocked her view. The older woman’s body movements gave away nothing about what was being discussed across the room. Bernadette eased her way toward them.

“Hey, Josh. Glad you made it in today, I think. So how did it go last night?”

“It was a very nice evening. Too bad you couldn’t make it. Wine, food, entertainment…. Brad went all out. You’d have enjoyed yourself.”

“Josh, you know why I didn’t go. Besides, sounds like you had enough fun for the three of us.”

“Not likely, but I did come away with something.” He reached into his shirt pocket and plucked out an envelope. “Take a look.”

She carefully slipped the paper out from inside the linen sheath. The stationery with its golden phoenix embossed in the corner was easily identifiable. But it was the check placed within its folds that caught her attention.

Before she could ask, Josh answered her question. 

“The amount is the price minus the gallery’s fee.”

Bernadette fumbled for words. Delirium, queasiness, disbelief all jockeyed for first place inside the body gone stiff. 

“This is unbelievable…wonderful! Josh, this means you sold both!
Both!
”

“No, you did. And Brad says you’ll be welcomed in the future. Not bad, huh BAD?”

Payne gathered them up into a breath-grabbing hug. Two teary women and a tall grinning man rocked and swayed in a tight little huddle until Payne broke them back into thirds.

“Told you, knew it from the start. Doesn’t surprise me one iota. Yep.” The woman nodded in satisfaction, saying one last thing before she turned toward the kitchen. “Something tells me I’m about to lose the best waitress I’ve ever had.”

Diminutive movements had startling impacts. Jerking, squirming, twisting. A tiny fist striking out at what kept it confined, creating a knot felt through taut layers. Searching for secure footing, would-be toes stepped on nerves causing them to stretch, twitch. Every movement guaranteeing that whoever was growing inside wasn’t to be ignored.

Bernadette placed her hands over her growing belly. “You must be as anxious as I am as to know what’s happening out here.” 

“Feeling okay? Why don’t you rest? It’s almost empty in here now.” Payne’s suggestion was answered with a sigh.

“Maybe just a minute. I am feeling a little tired.” 

BAD sat down and reached for napkins needing folding. A baby. The reality of it wandered in and out of her thinking, startling her. First, she had to get it here. The check from the gallery would help with that. But then what? A small nest, created from remnants of other folks’ histories, filled a room in the trailer. Lamaze classes with her surrogate mother warded off fears of the physical. Vitamins and Payne’s insistence of eating red, green and white kept her body nourished. All the outside pieces had been patched together through thrifty planning and the generosity of others. But then what? The recurring question tugged at her mind, scrambling her concentration. 

“Payne, what was it like having a baby and then, well,
having the baby
?”

“I never got to the holding part. Lost it late due to a very nasty blow…” The ends of her words trailed off into something old—something dark.

“Oh, Payne, I’m sorry…. I just thought with the crib and all, well, that you’d had—”

“I couldn’t bear getting rid of the larger pieces. Good thing, too. Now they’ll get a second chance.”

Awkward endings up in the air, Bernadette put other questions on hold even as their persistence tightened their grip, threatening strangulation. Was she capable of loving a Conner or an Alice? She hadn’t exactly come from demonstrative stock. Her folks loved her enough, but they weren’t parents prone to affection. They weren’t
huggers
. There hadn’t been intimate talks or laughter-filled conversations around the dinner table. Did babies come with love assurances? 

Then there was the practical part. Josh had cleared a sunny spot for a pallet in the studio. Payne insisted Bernadette settle into the role of motherhood before returning to the café. Short-term solutions from kind and generous friends. But what about that long-term plan Wanda touted? Waitressing by day, painting by night. Where and how did a baby fit into all of that? 

Her chest felt tight, her breathing labored. The tiny fist punched out again, not to be ignored or taken for granted.

“She’s expecting?”

“Pregnant!”

Circling around, the women gave hugs—the men, claps on the back.

“Congratulations.” Lilly’s voice was a croak. 

“Yep. Number three! This one wasn’t on the agenda but Mary’s calling it a ‘happy accident’.” Paul beamed. “Sure will make life more interesting, if that’s possible.”

Lilly managed a distorted smile, another ‘congratulations’ and a small pat on his shoulder before walking toward the women’s restroom. She locked herself in a stall and hugged her arms around her body to still her shaking. She was angry for feeling the way she did. It was insane. Idiotic. Uncalled for. How could she feel rejection, like being dumped, from a man who had only encouraged, befriended and cared for her? How could there be a breaking up from something never forged? But the fact was, she felt abandoned. Her fantasy had exploded. 

Lilly blew her nose and swiped her eyes. She lifted her chin and marched out to the mirror. Staring ahead, she repeated the words written on a small piece of paper. “Confidence comes from finding your inner strength.” Through more tears, she voiced them again to the blotchy image in the mirror, where a young brokenhearted woman stared back.

Hung side by side, the watercolors joined multiple works spanning varying genres. The rich ensemble made for an interesting walk down the long hallway. Fresh mats and frames distinguished the two newcomers, but the end result was of perfect harmony and order—a testament to good taste and a large bankroll.

At the end of the corridor the man sat in a smooth leather chair behind a mahogany desk in his impeccably appointed office. He took the business card from the Rolodex and dialed the number printed under the name of the gallery. “Tom Bertan here. This message is for B. Donahue—”

“That’s pretty much all he said. He wants to set up an appointment with B. Donahue.” 

The message on the answering machine had been brief, followed by a name and number. Brad copied the information and called Josh to meet him at the studio.

“Looks as if Miss Donahue will need to invest in a telephone.” Brad handed Josh the contact information. “You two can work out the details from here.”

“Thanks, Brad. I’ll let you know if anything comes of this.”

“Good. One thing, Josh. I don’t know if it’s the same guy, but there’s talk of some new development going up on the west end of the island. The name sounds the same as one of the big investors.” Brad smiled. “Always good to know what’s going on.”

Josh pocketed the information, thanked his friend again and drove to the small café across town. Bearing good news was becoming his specialty.

A few stragglers remained gathered around one of the tables. None were in much of a rush to leave, a direct result of Payne’s sacrosanct policy of not hurrying folks out the door. Easy banter bounced between them and the very attractive, very pregnant woman who served coffee with a lovely smile.

Bernadette’s widening girth had become both a blessing and a curse. It opened a natural channel of conversation between her and the café patrons, all inquiring about her health, due date and potential names. It became the catalyst for friendships and extra tips and meant more standing on her feet as she talked and mingled with the steady flow of customers. This translated into less inclination to be in Josh’s studio in the evening hours. Payne often insisted she could “finish early” but Bernadette, with swollen ankles and flagging energy, remained alongside Wanda until the café closed its doors—actions equally dictated by loyalty and gratitude.

Both were inconspicuously cleaning around the lone knot of customers when Josh came in, smiling.

“Uh oh. Look who’s been doing something questionable.”

“Now, Wanda Payne, don’t jump to any nasty conclusions. I am on the ‘completely innocent list’. Want to change that, ladies?”

“What’s up, Josh? You’re in particularly good spirits today.” Bernadette’s mood perked up at her friend’s attitude.

“Got some interesting news for you, Miss Donahue. How about we all sit down with a couple pieces of that leftover pie?”

Payne placed the remaining wedges on two plates and set them on the table with three forks. “This is gonna be good, I can tell.”

Josh handed the paper with the man’s name and number to Bernadette as he relayed Brad’s message.

“What do you think this means?” BAD asked.

“Well, it could be a come-on or a legitimate offer. I suspect the latter, maybe a commissioned piece.”

A loud
whoopee
escaped from Payne, startling the final trio of customers on their way out.

“Wanda, are you that happy we’re finally leaving?” Their exiting laughter followed them out onto the street.

Josh, Payne and Bernadette joined in the good feelings left floating behind the diners, a public and private joke stretching from one to the other. It wouldn’t be until later they’d learn the second wasn’t laughable.