The House of Eve (87)







CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX WHAT YOU ASK FOR



Eleanor




Their first big blowup as a married couple lingered far longer than it should have. Eleanor had inherited a stubborn streak from her father, and William didn’t seem to have the time to make things right even if he wanted to. His residency became even more demanding, and he spent several twenty-four-hour shifts at the hospital each week, while Eleanor continued to duck invitations for visits from Nadine and a few other well-meaning girls from her dormitory at Howard.

Mrs. Porter took a two-week holiday to be with family in Montclair, New Jersey, so without her archiving work, Eleanor was left with very little to do to pass the time. She read books, reworked jigsaw puzzles and cleaned her already spotless house.

William walked through the door early on Christmas morning. Eleanor had gotten up earlier to make biscuits, crab cakes and sunny-side-up eggs to greet him. It was her peace offering, and one he gladly accepted. They wore pajamas, ate on breakfast trays in the den while listening to “White Christmas” by Bing Crosby and drinking mimosas. Eleanor rarely drank, so the bubbles went straight to her head, quieting the gruff voice temporarily. Rose had called, insisting that William join the family for Christmas dinner, but he declined and spent the whole day at home with her. Eleanor recognized this as an olive branch and accepted it.



* * *



Five days into the New Year, Eleanor awakened to find William in their bed. He must have come home in the middle of the night. It was still dark outside, and she couldn’t figure out what had jolted her awake at such an early hour. Then she heard the shrill of the telephone ringing through the air. Eleanor pushed the covers off her and headed downstairs as fast as she could.

“Hello.” Her voice wavered. She hoped to God it wasn’t bad news regarding her parents.

“Mrs. Pride? This is Mother Margaret. Sorry to disturb your sleep, but I’m calling with news. You have a baby boy,” she announced cheerfully.

“Oh, my goodness.” Eleanor covered her mouth with her hand in shock. She had known this moment was coming, but to be standing in it, hearing it, was different.

“Congratulations. We are running all of the newborn tests now, and I’ll give you a call back when we are ready for you to pick him up. He’s a darling creature,” she added.

“I can’t thank you enough. You have changed our lives forever with this news.”

“It’s what we do here. Match well-deserving families with precious bundles of joy. Now, please keep this under your hat until I call again. I’ll tell you when to announce that you are in labor.”

“Yes, I will. Thank you.”

Eleanor dropped the phone in the cradle and then ran up the stairs two at a time.

“Babe.” She shook William.

He groaned.

“The baby is here.” She trembled.

William was suddenly awake. Eyes wide.

“It’s a boy. We have a son.” Eleanor could hear the emotion that had welled up in her voice. “William Pride the third is here.” She threw her arms around him and they rocked.

“Unbelievable.”

“Mother Margaret said they were running tests and would call back soon.”

William squeezed her so tight she could hardly breathe. “We have a son,” he whispered in her ear. “Thank you.”

The pride of pulling this all off welled up in her chest. It was finally over.

“I love you, baby. You’re going to be a wonderful mom.” He touched her cheek and then pulled her face to his and kissed her fiercely.

When Eleanor pulled away, she rested her head against his chest, listening to his heart thump. God, she loved this man, and now they would finally be complete. Inseparable, bound for life by the coming of their child, and the secret of how he came to be. One that would be carried to the grave. This baby would make them solid, and Eleanor would protect her family with everything she had. That was a promise.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN DARKNESS



Ruby




Loretta’s son had been diagnosed with ptosis; a drooping left eye that made his face look slightly disfigured. When I brought in her lunch, she was rocking him to her chest, weeping.

I put the tray of soup in front of her and offered to hold the baby, but she shook her head.

“I heard Mother Margaret on the telephone this morning,” Loretta choked out.

“What did she say?”

“She called an orphanage for him. Saying that with his lazy eye he was no longer adoptable. She’s placing him in a home to rot away.”

My egg started kicking and I put my hand against its foot. My belly had gotten so heavy that I couldn’t stand for long, so I pulled over the chair.

“I came here to give him a better life; sending him to an orphanage is like sentencing him to jail. Do you know how many Negro babies spend their whole lives in those places?” Her bottom lip quivered.

“Do you think your mom will reconsider, and let you take him home?”

“Never, she would take her own life before she allowed this to blemish our reputation.”

I pulled her into my arms and rocked her until she seemed calm.

After I left, I tried to think of something nice I could do for her. I decided to paint her a picture of the prettiest sunrise I could imagine. I’d use streaks of gold to match her hair. With my canvas and tubes of paint in hand, I ventured out onto the screened-in porch. It didn’t take long before my fingers were stiff from the cold, but that didn’t stop my brushes from flying with yellow and orange across the blank canvas. It had been ages since I had gotten lost in Ruby Red’s World, and my mind was so deep inside my imagination that I didn’t feel the cold or hear the door open. It was Mother Margaret, telling me we needed to go to the clinic.

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