Annabelle So Soon #2
She bit her lip. “Well, you can. But it has to go through the same screening process as everybody else’s, so it’s unlikely that it would be ready in time to use for her surgery.”
Mom nodded. “Well, can I do it anyway so I don’t have to go back there and deal with those lunatics?”
Tammy laughed. “We can always use some good blood. What type are you, sweetie?”
“B, I’m pretty sure,” Mom said. “I try to give blood a couple of times a year.”
Tammy nodded. “Well, your mother is A positive, so she can’t take your blood anyway. Looks like you’re off the hook!”
Mom grimaced. “Daddy is A positive too, so maybe he could give for her? Martha is dead set that some family blood will be waiting in case of emergency.”
I laughed, and, before I could even think about the ramifications of what I was saying, I blurted out, “That’s impossible. If they’re both A positive, you can’t possibly be B.”
“What do you mean?”
Tammy waved her hand. “I’m sure there’s just some sort of mix-up. Maybe your daddy isn’t actually A, or you’re not actually B.”
Mom didn’t say anything, but you could see the slight change in the color of her face.
“How do you know what D-daddy’s blood type is anyway?” I asked.
Instead of answering, she put her finger up. “I’ll be right back.”
I followed her to the waiting room and watched, perplexed, as she snatched her wallet out of her pocketbook and rifled around while saying, “What blood type are you?” to her sisters.
“I’m A positive,” Louise practically sang. “I remember because, obviously, I’d never be anything less than an A plus.”
“A negative,” Martha said.
Sally rolled her eyes and tapped her pencil on the newspaper she was now holding, I assumed trying to fill in the answers Louise couldn’t on the crossword.
“I’m O. The damn universal donor.” She sighed.
“Please tell me you are too. Could you store some blood for me? I’m always nervous I won’t be able to get any when North Korea bombs us to smithereens. ”
Mom pulled a card out of her wallet and said nothing, practically stomping back to the nurse’s station. “See,” she said to Tammy, thrusting her Red Cross blood donor card in her face. “B.”
Tammy nodded. “Well, people make mistakes all the time. It’s probably just a card that got printed wrong.”
But I think we all knew right then and there that the Red Cross didn’t make a lot of blood-typing mistakes.
So we must have been wrong about D-daddy’s blood type.
Mom walked back to the waiting room, in a bit of a huff.
I could tell she was trying to look calm, but that was a bothersome discovery to say the least. I tried to think, sitting quietly by myself.
Could my mom have been adopted? I looked from my mom to her sisters and back again.
The four women in that room had different hair color and even different eye color, but that was it.
They were the same height, the same body type, the same facial bone structure.
They even, all four of them, had the exact same nose.
There was no conceivable way that they weren’t blood.
So that was that. She was just wrong about D-daddy’s blood type.
I pulled out my phone and checked my e-mail.
But, as I trashed one message after another, I couldn’t delete the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
· · ·
Lovey always says that the clothes may make the man, but the jewelry makes the woman.
And she certainly had enough to go around.
When I woke up six mornings after arriving in Raleigh, completely nauseated, mostly from the pregnancy, partly from the fact that I had to go back to Salisbury and face the music, I was thinking about borrowing some of Lovey’s jewelry.
Ben was home, waiting, having no idea that I knew what he’d been up to.
I should have been going over in my mind what I was going to say, what I was going to do.
But I felt like my entire life was hanging by one thin spider silk.
If he admitted the affair, it was going to break immediately.
If he didn’t admit it, I would know that he was lying and be forced to make a decision, to tangle myself in the web.
Either way, my marriage and my husband were irrevocably changed.
So, instead of playing it out in my mind, I thought about jewelry.
I didn’t know what I would do yet. Would I leave?
The idea of being without Ben, even after how devastated I was, seemed like a fish trying to breathe out of water.
And there was the baby to think about. I put my hand to my stomach and immediately felt sad.
Even if I stayed, this baby, which had been made out of so much love, would never get to experience the perfection of what Ben and I had had.
That was the night that we had decided was a great time for Laura Anne and Jack to throw the “welcome to town” party she had insisted on hosting for us. Of course, when I agreed, I had no idea that she and my husband were sleeping together. The offer would have seemed less sincere.
I should have canceled the party, but I wasn’t ready for Ben to think something was amiss yet.
Not before I had made up my mind about how our future would look.
And, if I was going to go down, I was going to go down looking good.
I had had another one of Lovey’s cocktail dresses fitted for the occasion, that, thank the Lord, still fit, paired with Christian Louboutins that I had put on my credit card.
And Lovey’s lockbox, a treasure trove of jewels that were too fabulous to even be seen in the light of day, was the only missing piece.
I couldn’t put my finger on what, but, in one way or another, I just knew that Lovey had been lying about my mom her entire life.
But, in reality, I didn’t have any proof that my suspicions were valid.
And I needed jewelry. I needed a piece so statement making that it said, I don’t care if you’re sleeping with my husband, you whore. I’m still better than you.
That was a pretty serious thing to say with a piece of jewelry. So I went to the nursing home room where Lovey was finally recuperating, and, after a few minutes of small talk said, “So, Lovey, how about letting your favorite granddaughter wear your David Webb elephant bracelet tonight?”
Lovey laughed a little longer than usual, which made me know that she was still on a bit of pain medication. “So that’s the one, huh?”
I winked at her. “Is there really anything else?”
I thought of the thick gold bracelet, the elephant’s trunk straight up in the air, creating a locking clasp, the diamond and jeweled head that was so shining and bright it seemed to have its own light source.
It was probably the most expensive piece in Lovey’s collection.
More than her massive diamonds or the huge emeralds that used to cascade down her ears and almost onto her shoulders.
And it was the kind of piece that even the woman in the room who wants to pretend she doesn’t think you’re amazing absolutely must comment on.
So, sure, a bracelet wasn’t going to change the fact that I had to face—and, even worse—be nice to, a woman who had taken a sledgehammer to the glass-front armoire of my life.
And it wasn’t going to change the fact that I was pregnant, and, for all intents and purposes, alone. But it would be something.
Lovey laughed again, “Sure, darling. Just be careful. It’s insured, but you and I both know it’s completely irreplaceable.”
She pointed to the laminate nightstand and said, “Just make sure you ask for Melissa. She knows how to get into everything.”
I grabbed Lovey’s keys, kissed her and D-daddy good-bye and thought again that there was no way that those two, the most faithful and loving people I’d ever known, were hiding something as huge as their daughter’s parentage. It had to have been some sort of mistake.
In the long, marble lobby of the bank, smelling of ink and fresh bills, I spotted Melissa right off behind her teller stand.
She was short and broad and the kind of girl that you would have described as athletic or stocky.
Her blunt haircut was just right for making her seem like she had cheekbones, and, no matter what, she was one of the nicest girls I knew. “Annabelle!”
She flew out from behind the long line of teller stands and embraced me in a hug, which felt good after the few days that I had had.
And it made me miss my old life, where I was comfortable, where I had friends and acquaintances and knew everyone in the grocery store.
That was a good thing because, no matter my feelings about it, I was going to have to move back to Raleigh if I left Ben.
There was no way I could raise a baby on my own without my parents’ help.
The thought of that was unutterably depressing.
Melissa and I exchanged pleasantries, and I said, conspiratorially, “I’m here to borrow one of Lovey’s bracelets, and she said you were the one who knew how to get to all the good stuff. ”
She laughed, grabbed her huge ring of keys and, entering the vault, passing over all of the small doors, made her way to a huge opening at the top.
She stood on a small stepladder, put her key in first, then mine, and turned.
I stood on my tiptoes to help her remove the massive drawer that contained many of Lovey’s prized possessions.
“I better get back out there,” she said. I could lock the box with only my key.
“Thanks,” I said, anxious to get digging in the gem mine of Lovey and D-daddy’s lockbox.
Dozens of matching navy blue felt bags held triple and quadruple strands of pearls with diamond clasps, sapphire clasps, ruby clasps.
Earrings of every shape and size, stone and cut, rings from every decade of D-daddy and Lovey’s life together, and bracelets so heavy your arm was more toned after wearing them.