Chap 3

April 4

Meri had a rare morning to herself. Her neighbor had taken the kids, thank god; Joe had a day job building a deck for some parishioners, and she hardly knew what to do with herself. She made a half-hearted effort at housework, but morning sickness had hit hard this time. I wonder if it’s a boy. I don’t remember feeling this sick before. She was just eight weeks along in the pregnancy and already her clothes were too tight, she could hardly keep food in her stomach and a persistent headache dogged her days. She felt utterly exhausted after ten minutes of straightening the living room, pushing piles of toys out of the way with her foot, tossing a stack of newspapers and piling up the battered video boxes near the television.

Meri sat on the couch and took deep breaths. The house had a funny smell, stuffy with the scent of baby wipes, sour milk and last night’s dinner. The greasy roasting pan sat in the sink, soaking. Stray Cheerios were under every surface – the couch, the kitchen table, stuck to the wallpaper in the breakfast nook. Some days she thought if she stepped on one more Cheerio and heard that dry crunch, she’d snap. Not today, though. She didn’t have the energy to sweep them up, nor the energy to snap, for that matter.

Outside, the birdfeeder swayed with the arrival and departure of finches and linnets, which twittered and flitted like a singles bar. The birch trees were leafing out, with the softest of green leaves. The roses, too, were starting to bud, purple leaves feathering the tips of thorny canes. She missed the smell of fresh cut roses from her yard. They never had the money for roses from a florist, not even at anniversaries or Valentine’s, and those roses had no scent anyway. Meri wondered how the rest of her garden was doing.

She got up and found a jacket and went out the front door. The ground was soft and moist, the sky overcast, but there were signs of life everywhere. Besides the birds, there were squirrels chasing each other through the trees. Tulips were blooming next to daffodils, with tiny grape hyacinth clustered at their base. Baby’s tears drifted like a foamy green sea around the edges of her yard, and though the lawn needed a trim and the roses were not yet in bloom, it looked like a garden was growing.

Her garden’s progress cheered her, and she decided to take a walk. At least something was going right. Joe had not been able to find much work. It was supposed to be the right time of year, everything was supposed to be booming. But all the job sites were full. Something was amiss at the union office. Joe couldn’t seem to get hired on by anyone. He had put up flyers around town and a small ad in the local paper, advertising carpentry and handyman work. But little had come of it. The job today felt like charity. But Joe wasn’t complaining. He rarely did. He had paid bills last night, Meri beside him, writing the check numbers and dates on the receipts. She meant to file them later, but felt too ill; instead, the paperwork drifted into a pile, overflowing from a basket, and sometimes spilling over.

The mortgage was paid, and the car insurance, but he hadn’t paid the electricity, and there wasn’t much left for groceries. The chicken from last night would make a casserole tonight and its sorry carcass, with hardly enough meat to call it edible, would end up in the soup pot for the next night’s dinner. But the thought of scraping the white flesh from the chicken’s bones brought on a wave of nausea. Her head began to pound, and her heart. Meri looked around for a bench or someplace to sit. She realized she was quite near their church, and the thought of a warm, dim, quiet place to sit seemed utterly necessary. She took a deep breath and, when it was clear, crossed the street. She went through the heavy double doors, dipping her fingers into cool holy water and blessing herself. She went into the side chapel for the BVM, as they used to call her, the Blessed Virgin Mary.

The small room was still and dim, lit only by the flicker of votives in red glass jars. Another wave of nausea passed over her, so Meri sat down without genuflecting, sliding into the hard wooden pew, her eyes closed, her mouth watering sourly. Dizziness washed over her, and the slight smell of incense made her feel even queasier. Her hands were shaking. She bent her head down and leaned her forehead on her crossed arms on the back of the pew.

“Are you all right, dear?”

Meri startled up, but her vision was bleary and the old woman’s soft voice said from behind her, “No, no, sit there, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Meri leaned back in her pew and closed her eyes, while queasiness rose and fell. She heard the soft click of rosary beads and an occasional squeak as the old woman shifted in her pew. She could smell a faint perfume, a soft floral scent with a hint of raspberries, like the first red roses of the season. She felt embarrassed by her own silence and lack of prayerful attitude. She felt she should explain. It took a moment to get her courage up to speak.

“I’m having a baby,” she said. “I was feeling a bit – “

“Of course you were, of course. Is this your first one?” The rosary beads clicked, the prayer continuing despite the conversation.

“No, it’s my third. But I’ve never felt so sick.” Meri felt a rush of overwhelming emotion. She tried to sit up and shake it off but it was too late. The short walk, the illness, the worries over money – it all conspired to do her in this morning. “I’m sorry,” she said as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m just so tired.”

“No need, no need to apologize.” Meri heard rustling, then a tissue came over her shoulder. Meri took it and wiped her eyes. She turned to see her kind helper, but the room was so dim; she caught again the scent of roses but couldn’t clearly see the old woman’s face, just a quick gleam of dark eyes, grey-white hair pulled back under a scarf, her face cast downward at her rosary beads.

“Never mind, dear, just sit. It will all pass away, you know. It will soon pass away. I remember my first baby. I was a very young girl, much younger than you. I was still a teenager. We thought it the best time to marry in my day, not wait too long, get the marriage going and the babies born. It was a long time ago now,” the woman said.