Chapter One #2
“Keep it happy,” MaryLynn continued as she plastered a giant smile on her face to demonstrate, as if we would misunderstand the word happy.
“Sisters Grace, Miranda, and Sarah have brought treats for everyone. Can we get another applause for their hard work?” The response was rather less enthusiastic than the already lackluster response Kaye received.
They must have seen my cookies. “Sister Janice is going to pray for us and then feel free to help yourself to the desserts.” She finished her speech and sat down at a table near the front full with women that had children the same age as MaryLynn’s.
A twinge of jealousy ran through me as I considered the time they spent together on play dates and at birthday parties, an entire community I could never be a part of.
I focused on arranging my card making kit, avoiding the pointedly empty chairs at my table despite several women making their way in while MaryLynn spoke.
That’s ok. It’s ok. Really. This just means I’ll have more room to work.
“Those cookies are awful, Grace.” My mother’s voice came from behind me.
“You couldn’t put a little more effort into them?
What is that color, anyway? And a rectangle?
Didn’t I give you a whole new set of cookie cutters for Christmas?
I know you had something better you could have done.
” She had finished her speech by the time she sat down.
I braced myself for the company of the only person who could stand to sit at my table.
“Hello, mother,” I said in answer. I wanted to say something to defend myself. Something like I did put more effort in, but it’s a hot day and the frosting melted and this is the best I can do or I didn’t see you bring cookies or they taste great, and isn’t that what matters?
I didn’t say any of that. I just took a deep breath and turned to smile at her.
“You brought the whole kit?” She waved her hand towards the box. She still hadn’t even said hello. “That’s a little much.” She had lowered her voice for that part. However, I saw several people throwing looks our way at this point.
“Well, the least you can do is share,” she said just before, to my horror, she waved Kaye over to sit with us.
“Kaye, darling! It’s so good to see you,” my mother said as she stood and gave her a kiss on each cheek.
The smiles they exchanged were as fake as Kaye’s blonde hair.
She didn’t even look at me as she sat down.
I guess that’s fair. After all, she saw me having a complete breakdown in the parking lot not even thirty minutes ago.
Like a properly chastised child, I pushed the kit aside enough that others could use it. I did not want to share, not with Kaye. But then, that wouldn’t be very Christian of me. I really did have enough supplies to go around.
“How’s the nausea?” My mother asked Kaye. They hadn’t even lifted a finger to write any letters. I hadn’t been listening to their conversation and was taken off guard when the question intruded in on my thoughts.
“Not easing yet,” Kaye replied, hand dropping to cup her stomach.
“The doctor said that’s normal.” She brought her sweet tea up to her lips for a sip.
I kept listening, wondering why she would talk to my mom about her nausea even as guilt settled in me at paying such close attention to a conversation that didn’t involve me.
I dismissed the feeling. If they wanted a private conversation, they could have sat anywhere else.
“I was lucky,” my mother replied, her words dripping with superiority. “I was only nauseous for the first few weeks with Grace.”
Oh. Kaye was pregnant.
I gripped the texture plate I was holding hard enough that it creaked from the stress.
I dropped it quickly, the sound of the plastic crashing against the table clanged loudly in the room.
My mom and Kaye both looked at me before dismissing me and focusing back on their conversation.
Jealousy raged through me again. I wished she would just go sit at the mothers’ table.
This is her first child. A reasonable part of me thought. Maybe she didn’t really fit in there, either.
“Robert was so surprised when I told him the good news.” Kaye continued, “We were sure it wasn’t going to happen.
” Her hand still cupped her belly and she glanced down at it.
She wasn’t showing yet. “But then, God blesses the faithful.” She looked at me when she said that, pity and judgment written all over her face.
I focused back on the card I was making, tears pricking my eyes.
“Oh yes,” my mother replied. “He certainly does, and who’s more faithful than the pastor?” The women laughed at this. I tried to tune them out. I knew dwelling on this would only lead to more pain. I’d had enough of that for one day.
I settled on my favorite stamp set. It always had a way of cheering me up, and I set to work decorating the envelope. I lost myself in the work, tuning out my mother and Kaye’s gossiping, the spaces in front of them full of treats, but no letters.