Chapter 30 Lucy
Lucy
Lucy’s insides begged her to pace the house, but her swollen ankles had very different ideas. So, she sludged to the patio bench in the backyard to enjoy the last of the afternoon sun and pressed her toes into the floor to swing while Chucky chased a bird.
A car door slammed and her heartbeat picked up speed.
Earlier today, when Jade said she wanted to talk, Lucy didn’t know what to expect.
But it probably wasn’t good. She and Jade had been misfiring for weeks now, but Lucy didn’t want to call attention to it, hoping it would all magically fix itself.
She assumed these were typical fluctuations in a relationship, but deep down she knew something was off.
If she and Drew ever disagreed, which was rare, they called it out on the spot.
They’d hash through the details until it was time to hug it out, at which point they went back to arguing about which Schitt’s Creek one-liner was the best (‘Ewww, David,’ obviously).
She knew Drew would never leave her. Maybe that’s why she didn’t mind confronting him.
But did this mean she thought Jade might?
Lucy strained her neck to see if she could spot Jade inside the house, through the screen door. ‘Out back!’
Footsteps approached and the screen door flew open.
‘Dad?’ Lucy started to stand, but her dad waved her back down.
‘I told ya I had to come into town for parts.’ He tapped his baseball cap lower to cover his eyes and took a seat opposite her under the shade of the tree. Chucky beelined his way towards him, accepted a rub on the head, and retreated to circle the yard.
‘Yes, you did, but you never said you were going to stop by. Everything okay?’
Her father was quiet as he stroked the stubble on this chin, but that wasn’t abnormal for him. ‘Ya, well, I figured I needed to make sure you hadn’t popped nothing out yet.’
Dad. A man of the most profound words.
‘I’m only thirty weeks. I still have a couple of months.’ She grinned and kept swinging.
Growing up, she had friends whose dads were full of life who took her skating, sledding, and to the park.
Drew’s mom was a former theatre major who landed a role in a ‘very off’ Broadway show when she was in college.
She was sooo chatty and vibrant, and Lucy loved being around her.
Drew’s mom dropped the words ‘I love you’ as casually as if she was asking what your favourite snack was.
Her dad was as different as a Minnesota summer was to a Minnesota winter. He may not express himself the way Drew’s mom could, but Lucy felt his love to her core.
A cramp started in her lower belly. She pressed against her stomach and breathed it out.
Her dad’s fingers gripped the chair. ‘What’s going on? You’re not popping it out now, are ya?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘No. I’ve been having Braxton Hicks for a while, though.’
‘What the hell are those?’
The worst thing ever. ‘It feels like someone attached duct tape to my uterine wall, then rips it off.’
‘Jesus Christ, sorry I asked.’
The first time the Braxton Hicks started, she thought she was in labour.
These early contractions weren’t painful really, more bothersome.
She called Labour and Delivery, who guided her in timing the cramps to determine if they were ‘real’ contractions.
Lucy did that, while searching what Braxton Hicks were, and called BS that so many people online said ‘trust me, you’ll know when it’s labour’.
Her dad watched Chucky do laps as his beard scratching intensified, and a moment later, he sniffed. Sniffed? ‘Dad? What’s going on? Are you feeling okay?’ The uptick in her pulse now thudded in her ear. He was healthy, right?
A weighty exhale left his mouth, and he stared at her stomach. ‘Uff, you look just like your mom.’
One sentence, but the tone behind the words packed a heavy emotional punch.
He pulled his hands into his lap and stared at his fingernails.
‘I never saw her happier than when she was lugging around that huge belly. She’d always rub that thing.
I had to go out and buy her headphones, and she wrapped that thing around her belly and blared some classical music right into her stomach.
I damn near worried you were going to come out without working ears.
’ One quick chuckle escaped. He returned his gaze to his fingers and scraped at his nail with his thumb.
‘But that woman was so damn stubborn. Just like you. She didn’t listen to me none.
So, I bought all these baby books at a garage sale, and at night I laid my head by her stomach and read to you.
Don’t say I never did nothing for ya, kid. I saved those eardrums.’
Hot tears stung Lucy’s eyes. He read to her when she was a bump? What did her mom think? The tears fell, and she wiped them with her palm.
‘Oh yep, there I did it. Made ya cry.’ He motioned like he was going to stand but then sat back down. ‘I don’t like talking about these things ’cause I don’t want to make you all sad.’
‘These are happy tears, I promise.’ Lucy wiped again and sucked in air through her nose.
‘You never talk about her. I want to know so much more, and you never say anything.’ What was this, pregnancy courage?
They had their unwritten rules, and she abided by their code of silence.
But she was hungry, desperate, and if he clammed up, at least she had tried.
Too many moments passed, and Lucy wondered if she’d crossed the line. Dammit. But she’d savour the visual of her thirty-something-year-old dad coming home with a pile of garage sale books on a mission to save his daughter’s eardrums.
‘I thought all you pregnant ladies wanted ice cream and pickles. That’s what the movies said, ya know.
But ice cream hurt your mom’s stomach something fierce.
She was like that girl on The Exorcist when she tried some.
’ A grin cracked through his flatlined mouth.
‘You know what she couldn’t get enough of, though?
Pineapple. She even got those damn canker sores but powered through and ate ’em up like the world was ending. ’
A sob escaped Lucy as the tear gates burst wide. ‘Thank … you …’ She buried her head in her hand but tried to breathe through the overwhelming emotions, so she didn’t totally freak him out.
Her dad lifted himself from the chair and patted her once on the back. ‘Now don’t go gettin’ yourself all worked up. Probably not good for either of ya.’
‘I’m good, I’m good.’ She pulled in choppy breaths. ‘Please tell me more.’
She didn’t want to push her dad too much for more info, but now that he’d cracked open a fraction, he seemed less reluctant to share. Maybe all these years it really was his terrible way of trying to protect her from feeling sad.
He sat back down and stared at a hummingbird nestling itself on the branch. Chucky plunked himself at her dad’s feet, exhausted from playing. ‘Remember the table saw I had in the shed? That’s what her snores sounded like …’
For twenty minutes, her father opened the memory floodgates.
He talked about going on a wild goose chase looking for ‘shea butter’ for her itchy belly, checking the dairy section of all the grocery stores in town until some nice woman told him it was lotion.
He chuckled, talking about how cranky she got when their window air-conditioner had broken down and he put wet blankets in their deep freezer to give her some relief.
He said he thought he never gripped the steering wheel as tight as he did when he brought her to the hospital, but he was wrong, because he damn near busted a knuckle driving home with tiny Lucy in the backseat.
For every word, every syllable, Lucy felt like he was wrapping her in a warm blanket. For so many years, she’d needed to know more about her mom, terrified that the memory of her would fade. This conversation was everything she needed right now.
Her dad patted the front of his jeans and stood. ‘You know she’s watching you from wherever she is. She’s got her soap operas on one channel and you on the other.’
The soap operas! Lucy grinned, remembering the only thing that could distract her hyper-involved mom. ‘You think they have Days of Our Lives on rotation in heaven?’
He snorted. ‘You remember that?’
Lucy followed him into the house and held the door open for a panting Chucky. ‘I mean, Marlena was the devil. Any idea how much that sears itself into a young kid’s brain?’
She filled Chucky’s water bowl and grabbed a pop for her dad for the road.
‘Well, kid, I better take off here.’ He reached into his pockets and pulled out a treat for Chucky, who greedily gobbled it up. ‘Don’t be giving him any more treats tonight. I don’t know what in the world you’re feeding this dog.’
She threw her hands around her dad. ‘I love you. Thank you for today.’
He gave her one small squeeze and left.
The clock showed Lucy had about ten more minutes to close her eyes and replay every word her father had said before Jade arrived. Tonight, after she left, Lucy was going to write the stories down in her journal so she didn’t forget a single word.