The Last Ballad(82)

Kate raised her head, folded her arms over her knees.

“Richard was overjoyed. We both were, really. I thought that’s what it meant to be a wife, to support your husband. You saw him off to work in the morning and saw him home in the evening and you gave him a baby as soon as you could.

“Richard took me to the doctor, and the doctor felt around on my belly. Oh, you know how they poke at you. And he put something to my stomach and tried to hear the baby. He said if I was right about how long I’d been pregnant, then the baby should be big enough to hear it inside there. But he didn’t hear anything, and I couldn’t feel anything either, and it made me wonder if I’d been mistaken. I was afraid that I’d made the whole thing up.

“And then my belly got bigger and bigger, and I knew a baby was growing inside me, and I could feel it inside there too. And when I went back to the doctor he felt around and poked at me some more and said the baby was too small. He listened and said the baby’s heart was too small. He said things might not be okay, but I didn’t believe him. At least I didn’t want to. I thought, Here you were thinking you might not be pregnant, but you are. Anything’s possible. Things could turn out fine.

“But they didn’t. When he was born he was so small, Ella.” She cupped her hands before her. “I remember him fitting right in the palm of one of my hands, but I know that can’t be true. Surely he wasn’t that small, but that’s how I remember him. He was beautiful, but he was so little. And he wouldn’t nurse, wouldn’t hardly open his eyes. The doctor said he was sick. He didn’t know what with, but he never got better. And then we lost him a few days later.”

She held her hands to her mouth as if trying to keep the words inside. She sighed, looked over at Ella.

“I’m sorry to come all the way out here and tell you a story like this,” Kate said. “I’ve just never told anyone before. Richard won’t talk about it. I got pregnant with Claire a few years later, and I was scared to death. When she was born it was such a relief. I was so afraid to let go of her, terrified of her not being at my breast where I could see her, see all of her, and make sure she was okay. I wondered if I worried over her so much because I was trying to forget what happened. We never talked about it. We never told Claire, we still haven’t. But now I know that I worried over her because I still worried over our son. I still thought of his face every time I saw hers, still felt his body in my hands each time I lifted her to me. I still think of him every day.”

She put her hands to her eyes and held them there for a moment, and then she wiped at her nose and folded her arms back across her knees. She looked at Ella. Ella saw that her eyes had grown wet again.

“It’s like what you said earlier,” Kate said. “What you said after I told you about my brother. You said it doesn’t get easier when you lose someone you love.”

“It doesn’t,” Ella said. She lifted her right hand and put it on Kate’s shoulder, and then she put her arm all the way around her. Kate scooted closer. Ella felt her lean toward her.

“It’s brave of you to tell your story,” Kate said. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Living through it is the brave part,” Ella said. “You don’t know it when it’s happening, but living through it’s the hardest. After that the telling about it’s easy.”

The two women sat that way a little while longer, Ella with her arm around Kate, Kate with her head on Ella’s shoulder. Ella had a sense of the night growing darker, quieter. She no longer heard people’s voices. She didn’t see light from any cabins coming through the trees. She wondered if Kate had fallen asleep, but then Kate sighed, spoke.

“It’s getting late,” Kate said. She stirred. Ella lifted her arm, and Kate sat up, moved away from her. She looked at Ella as if she were embarrassed by something she’d said or done. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then released a long sigh. “I’m sorry to have put all this on you,” she said. “I didn’t plan to tell you that story.”

“No,” Ella said. “I’m glad you told it to me.”

“It’s just that I don’t have very many friends,” Kate said. “It’s hard. It’s hard to find friends sometimes.”

“I’ll be your friend,” Ella said.

“Okay,” Kate said. She smiled. “I’ll be your friend too.”

Movement in the road in front of her cabin caught Ella’s eye. Both women looked up at the same time. A figure came toward them in the darkness. As it grew closer Ella could tell that it was a man, and by the time he reached her yard she could tell that it was Charlie. He held a rifle. He smiled. Ella could tell he was drunk.

“There you are,” he said.

“Here I am,” she said.

He looked at the jars sitting on the steps beside Ella and Kate. “Y’all having a party?”

“No,” Ella said.

“It sure looks like a party,” he said. He reached toward Ella and picked up her glass. He downed the whiskey in one swallow. He stumbled, dropped the rifle at his feet, bent to pick it up. Kate moved up one step so that she sat on the porch. Ella could feel her new friend’s fear.

“What do you want, Charlie?” Ella asked.

He looked at Kate. “Who are you?”