Nan's Story (15 page)

Nan was surprised to feel a few tears rolling sideways down her face and onto the pillow. She wiped them away and tried to sort out her range of emotions. Eddie was a nice enough guy and had won at least the shaky approval of her mother. She didn’t give a shit what Joe thought, so no worries there, but the fact was Nan didn’t love him. Now, after venturing into the most intimate act possible with Eddie, she was sad to realize she likely never would. In the beginning she didn’t believe it would bother her all that much, but somehow, it did.

Weeks crawled by and Eddie took every opportunity possible to have sex with her. Although the nagging boredom persisted, Nan found she could lose herself in sensation, and during those brief encounters, wasn’t bothered by the lack of affection she felt for him. This sustained her for awhile, but it became painfully obvious that there was no point in continuing the relationship so she braced herself to break it off. Before she could though, her period stopped coming and she was immediately alarmed. Nan had always been regular and although she and Eddie had only gone all the way one time without protection, Nan couldn’t avoid the truth. Once the daily bouts of nausea set in, Nan told Eddie her suspicions.

As she anticipated, Eddie was speechless. He recovered his composure swiftly, dutifully dropping to one knee. There was nothing Nan wanted more than to say no, but the prospect of returning home to face her mother pregnant and alone was unthinkable. So in a very quiet voice, she agreed to be his wife.

She wore a plain white dress off the rack from Hudson’s. It was only slightly taught across her middle, keeping secret her motivation for marrying Eddie. Elsie had been surprised at the haste but at no point did she ask Nan why she and Eddie were moving so fast, and for that Nan was thankful. She knew her reprieve was only temporary as there was no way to avoid a ‘premature’ arrival and anyone could count the difference between seven and nine months, but at least she didn’t have to say it now. She could pretend that the wedding was a natural event in the course of her romance with Eddie.

In spite of only having a short time to plan for it, Nan had to admit the ceremony her mother organized was charming. White tulle was draped around the front room and woven through the rungs on the staircase, shimmering in light cast by dozens of pillar candles clustered around. Flowers were everywhere and the mood was light as the few invited guests dined on finger sandwiches and salads. Her brothers congratulated them, hugging her and warning Eddie, sort of in jest and sort of not, to be good to Nan. None of Eddie’s family was there, which felt odd to her, but he’d easily dismissed it as impossible given the short notice.

Nan and Eddie had their first dance as husband and wife in the sunken part of the living room. They hadn’t really found a song of their own, but had both heard and liked “
Only You
” by the Platters on the radio the week before, and decided it would be as good a song as any. It surprised Nan to see her mother mist up when Eddie loaded her bags into the back of his car. Once they returned from their honeymoon, two nights at the Anchorage on Hampton Beach, they would be moving into a small apartment in a military housing project in Kittery. Although it was only ten minutes from Nan’s childhood home, she was taken aback her to hear her mother say she’d miss her when she was gone.

With little effort, Nan eased into the somewhat mundane life as a housewife. She’d grown accustomed to upheaval and had, without ever realizing it, begun attracting it as well. Because of that, she found herself warmly welcoming the new level of predictability that had been infused into her daily routine.

They waited a few weeks before announcing that Nan was pregnant and her family seemed happy to hear the news. Even Joe appeared pleased and broke out a bottle of good champagne to mark the occasion. Nan didn’t really care if her path met with Joe’s approval or not, but her moving out of the house eliminated the day-to-day friction between them and that alone was worth celebrating. Elsie’s was the only one whose happiness was a little slower in coming, but when it did, it was like a salve on Nan’s old, deep hurts. It felt strange at first, but Nan appreciated the new dynamic and allowed Elsie to mother her in a way she hadn’t since she was young.

Throughout the pregnancy she and Elsie shared many moments that bordered on tenderness, but stopped just short by Elsie’s propensity for sarcasm. Her mother patiently helped transform the closet sized second bedroom in Nan’s apartment into a nursery and they’d both laughed until tears streamed down their faces at Nan’s failed attempt to crochet a blanket. The piece was crooked and uneven, and had gaping holes where she hadn’t tied off the yarn tight enough. Elsie commented on the baby’s likelihood of hanging itself on the thing, but commended Nan for her effort just the same.

Nan’s own preoccupation with her changing body and emotional upheavals kept her from noticing Eddie’s slow retreat from their marriage. His quest for sex had diminished as Nan’s belly grew and she hadn’t recognized the look of concern that frequently shadowed his face. In hindsight, it seemed to Nan that Eddie looked as if he were trying to work out a particularly difficult math problem in his mind. Even if she had noticed, she’d have probably just chalked it up to the daunting task of taking care of a family.

Four days before Christmas, 1955, little more than a year after Nan first met Eddie, she went into labor. She was cooking dinner when her water broke, and if it hadn’t been for the immediate, clenching pain in her lower pelvis, she might have outright laughed at her husband’s stricken expression. Eddie drove her to the hospital as fast as he could, silent most of the way. He stole glances at Nan, wincing with her as contractions let them both know that their child would be here very soon. Once they arrived at the emergency room, Eddie went to the designated waiting area for fathers-to-be. Although he must have been desperate at this point, he’d had the wherewithal to call Elsie and Joe. They passed the hours together until a nurse came out at just after nine p.m. with a wriggling blue bundle and handed Eddie his son.

Over the next few weeks, Nan would ply Elsie for details time and again. She wanted to know if there had been any inkling as to what Eddie was about to do. But her mother told her that she’d only seen a father gazing down at his newborn son, eyes filled with love and tears. When it was over, Elsie was as shocked as Nan and everyone else.

Nan saw her husband one last time the day after the baby was born. She was sitting up in the hospital bed, her little boy in her arms, still finding it hard to believe that this tiny person, this little ball of life, had just emerged from her body. Every crevice and crinkle of his soft, translucent skin was a miracle to her. Eddie watched his wife admire their child before he cleared his throat to let her know he was there.

“Hi,” Nan said to him, eyes shining bright. Her feelings for Eddie hadn’t changed dramatically over the past nine months, but he was the father of her beautiful child and for that she was grateful.

“Hi,” he replied hesitantly. He held a bouquet of red and white carnations, all they had in the gift shop at this time of year. Eddie looked more uncomfortable than Nan had ever seen him and she thought he must be afraid of the baby.

“Come see your son. He has your hair,” she told him, carefully removing the stocking cap from the fist sized head to reveal a tuft of bright orange.

Eddie made his way slowly around the bed and looked down at the sleeping baby. He sucked wind through his teeth and reached down to trace his finger across the back of his son’s hand.

“He’s perfect, Nan,” Eddie told her, clearing his throat. “You did good.”

“
We
did good,” she replied, replacing the baby’s cap.

Nan gave Eddie a list of tasks to handle while she spent the next few days in the hospital. She was scheduled to be discharged on Christmas Eve so needed him to finish wrapping a couple of gifts and fetch a few final things for the nursery. Although the list was lengthy, it never crossed her mind that Eddie should be writing it down. But in hindsight, she understood that he had no intention of carrying out her requests. He kissed the top of her head and gave his son one long, final look before turning on his heels and leaving. It was the last time Nan ever saw Eddie Sullivan.

The day before Christmas, she sat in a wheelchair stationed at the front door of the hospital for hours. She listened to the same loop of holiday songs and had counted all the lights on the large tree in the foyer three times, ignoring the concerned and pitying stares from the nurses. As she shifted the baby from arm to arm, readying to give him a second bottle, she began to worry. Not long after, worry gave way to terror that something had happened to Eddie and she finally called Elsie in a panic.

“He should have been here hours ago!” Nan wailed into the phone. Elsie told her to pull herself together. Joe had already closed the office and was home. They would come and get her, bring her back to the house, and then they would try to find Eddie.

Nan cried the whole ride to her mother’s, stroking her baby’s back as he slept in the car bed beside her. Elsie had Joe bring the bassinette up from the basement that all the Bower children had slept in and after they set it up next to Nan’s bed in her old room, they began trying to track Eddie down.

Christmas morning came and went as they waited for a call. Her brothers and Joe had spoken to everyone they could find on the shipyard, including several of Eddie’s friends. Although no one could say where he was, a few of Eddie’s buddies didn’t seem particularly surprised that he was gone.

Two weeks passed without a word and then out of the blue Nan received a letter. She was still staying with Elsie and Joe, and the letter, postmarked United States Navy, was in a pile of mail Joe had retrieved from her mailbox at the apartment. With shaking hands, she opened the envelope and read, letting it flutter to the floor as she finished. Elsie picked it up, her face morphing into disbelief as her eyes scanned the paper. The letter, dated the day after Christmas, was written to inform Nan that her marriage to Eddie had been annulled. It appeared that Eddie-fun, funny, outgoing Eddie-was already married to someone else. His to Nan was illegitimate, as now was his son. Choking back bile, Nan placed a call to a number on the letterhead in an attempt to learn more details.

A sympathetic young man on the other end of the line couldn’t provide her with much, but did say that as was standard Navy protocol, a card of congratulations had been sent to Eddie and his wife on the birth of their child. Unfortunately, the wife on file was not Nan, and Eddie had been caught. She hung up the phone numbly and barely registered that somewhere in Indiana, there was another young woman like her, shocked and betrayed by this man. But that was of little solace to her then. Nan would find out much later that Eddie had another child, a daughter, with his first wife. She never knew if Eddie’s first marriage had disintegrated under the weight of his lie, and never sought to find out.

It was all out in the open now. Her husband, if he could ever really be called that, was a bigamist. He had left Nan to raise his illegitimate child alone. Although the baby would carry his last name for the rest of his life, or at least until he was old enough to change it himself if he cared to, she knew that she’d never be able to call the him by the name she and her lying, cheating husband had chosen: Edward James Sullivan, Junior. The town clerk looked at her curiously as she paid the fifty cents to have the baby’s first name changed. He was only a few weeks old and wouldn’t know the difference, so Nan settled on a name that had always brought her comfort and strength. Her baby would no longer be known as Eddie Jr. His name was now Charles James Sullivan, CJ for short.

Chapter 9

Nan stopped talking. She tried to envision what Charlie might be thinking about all she just told him. She knew that Eddie’s behavior and the havoc it had wreaked was disturbing, but truthfully, so had her own. Would Charlie think differently about her knowing some of the less savory details around CJ’s conception and birth? And did it bother him that without his permission, Nan had given her son his name?

Charlie looked her straight in the eye and said:

“Eddie Sullivan is a first class loser. That he left the way he did, that he ever deceived you in the first place was despicable. I’m so sorry that it happened to you.”

He said it with such earnestness that Nan could have kissed him. Throughout the whole story, it seemed he’d only focused on what Eddie had done and glided past Nan’s own short comings.

“So you’re not uncomfortable that CJ is partially your namesake?” she asked, noting he hadn’t mentioned that part.

He smiled at her, telling Nan that he couldn’t have been more flattered.

“I am honored. Truly honored,” he told her sincerely.

She sipped her wine and took her cigarettes out of her purse. Charlie accepted one and they sat smoking in silence until Charlie broke it with a question that made Nan’s knees feel weak.

“Do you ever want any more?” he asked, nodding up the galley stairs. “I mean a brother or sister for CJ?”

Nan bit her lip and struggled for a reply. She ended up just blurting it out.

“I can’t have any more children,” she answered with finality and fear that Charlie would see her differently. Broken somehow.

“I would have, I think, but…I…I can’t,” she finished, leaning forward to stub out her barely smoked cigarette.

Charlie cleared his throat and paused for a moment putting his out as well. He sat back and looked as if he were about to say something, but instead moved in close and kissed her. Nan knew he was going to before he did, and despite the small knot that tightened in her stomach, she didn’t resist. She closed her eyes and felt his mouth reach hers, kissing her for real this time, no clap of thunder interrupting them as it had when they were teenagers. She felt his hand reach up and untie the scarf, sliding it and the ponytail holder from her hair. Charlie threaded his fingers into her curls.