Eighteen
Aunt Hallie
S he was insane, Hallie told herself. Because only an insane woman would have agreed to look after a six-month-old infant for two days while her sister and brother-in-law spent the weekend camping on the Oregon coast. Lucille McCarthy had originally agreed to watch Ellen, but she’d come down with a bad cold she was afraid of passing on to the baby.
Julie had phoned Hallie in tears, distraught because she’d have to cancel this long-awaited retreat with Jason. Caught off guard, Hallie had offered to take Ellen for the weekend. Just how much trouble could a six-month-old baby be? she asked herself with bravado. Infants that age slept twenty hours out of twenty-four. Didn’t they?
Hallie’s first doubts had surfaced the moment she’d hung up the phone. Though she loved kids, she hadn’t done much baby-sitting as a teenager. Well, maybe as an adult she’d do all right. And this time with Ellen would be a bonding experience. Two minutes later she called Steve to make sure Meagan was going to be around.
The next day, when Julie arrived with enough paraphernalia to fill a moving van—including a portable crib, a mammoth diaper bag, a miniature plastic bathtub, and more—Hallie was once again gripped by the anxiety of those who know they’re in way, way over their heads.
“Ellen’s a good baby,” Julie assured her. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“All right.” Besides, her mother lived little more than an hour away. Not so far that Hallie couldn’t leap in the car and drive to the Kitsap Peninsula if she got desperate. “And,” she told her sister cheerfully, “there’s always Mom. She must be getting over her cold by now.”
Julie and Jason glanced at each other as if silently debating which one should tell her.
“Mom’s gone away for the weekend,” Julie finally said.
“Away?” Hallie said, her throat closing up on her.
“She felt a lot better yesterday, and then this morning a friend invited her to Vegas for the weekend. Jason and I told her she should go.”
Jeez, no one had asked her, Hallie thought. And her mother’s defection left her without parental support—her ace in the hole, if things went wrong. Now that Lucille was hanging out with Wayne Newton and Hallie had no way of contacting Julie and Jason—except through Smokey the Bear—she was on her own. With maybe a bit of help from next door.
Hallie’s fears exploded to life even before the fumes from Jason’s car had disappeared.
Ten minutes later Ellen woke up.
The kid, even at six months, was no fool. She knew immediately that the woman holding her wasn’t her mother or grandmother. She took one look at Hallie and let out a scream a horror-movie starlet might envy.
Hallie cuddled the baby. “It’s Auntie Hallie,” she said, a little desperately. “Remember me?” Apparently not, but really, who could blame Ellen? She’d only seen Hallie a handful of times, and then it had been at family gatherings when she was surrounded by familiar faces. Now there were only the two of them, and Ellen didn’t like it.
“Hey, McCarthy, you said you wanted to be a mother.” Hallie tried again, this time with a bit of self-talk. If she couldn’t comfort Ellen, she’d work on reassuring herself. “This is where the rubber meets the road.”
Motherhood wouldn’t be all baby powder and gurgles. What she was experiencing was the real nitty-gritty of being a parent. This was what she wanted for herself, so she might as well practice now.
Hallie continued to hold and rock Ellen until the screams gradually eased to pitiful sobs.
When Meagan appeared at the kitchen door, Hallie could have kissed her.
“This is your niece?” Meagan asked.
“She isn’t all that familiar with me yet.” Hallie felt she had to explain Ellen’s discontent.
“Is her diaper wet?”
Her diaper. Hallie hadn’t given it a thought. “Poor, poor baby,” she cooed, reaching for the diaper bag Julie had left behind. The big diaper bag. Hallie extracted baby food jars, bottles, blankets, rattles, teething rings, a squeezable yellow duck, a pacifier, comb, brush, socks, three different pairs of shoes. But no diapers.
“I think they might be in the side,” Meagan said.
Sure enough, there was the storehouse of disposable diapers. Plenty of those, along with wipes, powder, diaper-rash ointment and a furry blue bear. No instruction manual, though.
Ready to prove she was capable of such an undertaking, Hallie spread a flannel blanket on the carpet and placed a squirming Ellen in the center. She smiled proudly over at Meagan. “This isn’t so bad.”
She promptly revised her opinion when it became apparent Ellen wasn’t going to make this easy. The only other diapers Hallie could remember changing had been on childhood dolls. The ones she’d owned had talked and cried and wet their pants. But none had kicked and fussed, twisted and turned, making the task damn near impossible.
By the time she’d finished, Hallie was exhausted.
“You did great,” Meagan congratulated her.
A glance at her watch showed that Julie and Jason had been gone less than an hour. Only thirty-five more to go. Piece of cake, Hallie mumbled under her breath.
“Dad’s taking Kenny to softball practice, but I can stay and help you, if you want.”
If you want… Hallie all but grabbed the girl’s shoulders and hugged her, she was that grateful.
With Meagan’s help, Hallie made it through the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon. When Ellen went down for a nap, Hallie did, too. No one had bothered to tell her about the energy required to entertain a six-month-old.
The afternoon passed quickly, and at suppertime she said goodbye to Meagan, feeling confident now that she could manage. It seemed that Ellen had become accustomed to her. Hallie felt ecstatic; she wasn’t as inadequate at this motherhood business as she’d feared. Yes! She could do this.
She changed her mind shortly after midnight. Ellen woke her out of a sound sleep, screaming so loudly that Hallie hurled herself out of bed and stubbed her toe while madly searching for the light switch. She’d completely forgotten about the lamp on her nightstand.
If Ellen had felt comfortable with Hallie earlier, she wanted nothing to do with her now. In fact, the infant had taken a sudden and apparently irreversible dislike to her aunt.
Babe in arms, Hallie walked until one of her slippers formed a blister on her big toe. It did no good; Ellen was in no mood to be comforted. Even a rerun of “The Andy Griffith Show” didn’t interest the kid.
“You’re a hard sell,” she muttered.
After two hours, Hallie was at her wits’ end. She’d done everything she could think of. Ellen’s forehead was warm to the touch, but Hallie couldn’t be sure if that was due to hours of nonstop screaming or a raging fever.
Maybe Ellen was seriously ill and needed a doctor. Maybe she’d eaten or swallowed something while Hallie wasn’t looking. Maybe Hallie had done something wrong.
Just as the thought of calling 911 entered her mind, she happened to notice a light on in Steve’s kitchen. Hallie raced to the phone.
“What’s wrong?” Steve asked groggily.
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be phoning you,” Hallie snapped. “What are you doing up at this time of night, anyway?” Whatever the reason, Hallie felt only gratitude. Steve was a father; he’d been through all this and survived. He’d know what to do.
He made all the practical suggestions.
“Do you take me for an idiot?” Hallie cried, close to breaking into sobs herself. “Of course I changed her diaper! Ten times or more.”
“How long has she been crying?”
“Three lifetimes,” Hallie said. “Listen, big boy, I’ll give you a thousand dollars if you can get her back to sleep.”
That shut him up. “You’re kidding.”
“Do I sound like this is a joke?” She was forced to yell as Ellen increased the volume of her cries.
“Give me five minutes.”
It took him three. “Come on,” he said, standing in the doorway, dressed in wrinkled gray sweats.
“We’re going somewhere?” So he felt Ellen needed to go to the emergency room, too. Relieved, Hallie reached for a thigh-length sweater and slipped it over her pajamas.
While she wrapped Ellen in an extra blanket, Steve carried the car seat out to his truck, positioning it in the middle of the seat. At the last minute Hallie remembered her purse and grabbed that, locking the front door on her way out to Steve’s monster truck.
He skillfully took the baby out of her arms and placed Ellen in the car seat, then helped Hallie climb inside. “What hospital are we going to?” she asked, locking her seat belt. Luckily Julie had given her a signed permission slip before she left, in the event of something like this.
“We aren’t.” He had to speak loudly to be heard over Ellen’s fevered cries. Hallie had to give the kid credit; Ellen had one fine pair of lungs.
They hadn’t gone more than two blocks before silence reigned. At first, Hallie waited, tense, expecting the noise to start again any second. Gradually she relaxed as the silence continued. She’d never heard anything more blissful in her life.
“My guess is she’s teething,” Steve said.
“So soon?” Hallie assumed kids didn’t get teeth until much later. Not that she’d really thought about it.
“Sure.” He glanced over at her and nodded for emphasis.
Well, Steve should know.
“My kids fell asleep the minute I turned the engine on. My car’s in the shop so I’ve got the truck tonight, but I figured it’d work just as well. Based on experience, I’d say that if there’s nothing seriously wrong, Ellen should fall asleep within six blocks. How’re you holding up, Aunt Hallie?”
“Good,” she said, lying through her teeth.
He drove along the Green River where there were few streetlights, and the rumble of the engine and the twisting road lulled Ellen into a deep slumber. But it wasn’t only Ellen who fell asleep. Hallie discovered her own eyes drifting shut, and she struggled to stay awake.
She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew they were parked outside her condo. She jerked her head up and discovered Steve lifting Ellen, car seat and all, out of the truck. “Sorry to wake you, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered.
Hallie opened the passenger door and climbed awkwardly out of the truck. Turning around, she slid off the seat on her stomach, inching her feet toward the ground.
Her house was dark and still when she unlatched the dead bolt.
Gently Steve removed Ellen from the car seat and placed her in her little crib. They both waited, fearing the worst. After a few minutes it became apparent that Ellen wasn’t going to stir, and they tiptoed out of the room.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Think nothing of it,” Steve returned. “Just don’t forget you owe me a thousand bucks.”
Hallie opened her mouth, then closed it with a groan. She’d forgotten their ridiculous bargain.
Steve grinned. “Hey, not to worry. I take VISA.” Having said that, he kissed her on the forehead and let himself out.
Hallie had decided long ago that shopping was therapeutic, and the weekend after playing the role of Aunt Hallie she decided to treat herself. Donnalee agreed to come with her. They were both in need of a little self-indulgence, and the solution was a shopping spree. Not the normal half-off sale in some local department store, either. Oh, no, Donnalee declared that their current depressed state called for a full-fledged bout of conspicuous consumption. Something that included a passport, a facial and cheesecake.
“I’ll have you know I emptied my entire Christmas savings account for this,” Hallie grumbled as they neared the Canadian border.
“Not to worry,” Donnalee said as she eased her vehicle into the long line of cars waiting to clear customs. “By Christmas you’ll be married and your rich husband will foot the bills.”
Husband. So many of her thoughts and plans in the past few months had focused on that word. Husband. Marriage. Family. Recently Hallie had come to a deeper understanding of what had brought her to this stage in her life.
“Hey,” Donnalee said, taking her eyes from the road long enough to glance at Hallie. “You look awfully serious all of a sudden.”
Hallie forced a smile, then decided that if she couldn’t tell Donnalee about the emotional crisis she’d endured all week, she’d never be able to tell anyone.
“What’s up?” Donnalee prodded gently.
“It’s been a year now since my dad died, and I don’t think I’ve ever missed him more.” Her voice broke and tears filled her eyes, embarrassing her. She ran the back of her hand under her nose and, with tears streaming down her cheeks, she laughed. “I apologize. I didn’t realize I was going to do this.”
“Hallie, it’s me—Donnalee, your best friend—remember?”
Hallie reached for her purse and rooted around for a tissue. “Besides Dad, I’ve been thinking about Gregg. I should have married him. In the back of my mind I knew it then, but I was too…stubborn to realize that I wanted what he was offering.”
“Gregg Honeycutt? But I thought the two of you broke up years ago.”
“We did. He wanted to get married and I didn’t.” She paused long enough to blow her nose. “Quite a switch, isn’t it? The guy being the one who wants to marry. I’d taken out a huge loan to get Artistic License up and operating, and I refused to allow my personal life to get in the way of business.”
“You think you should’ve married Gregg?” Donnalee asked, sounding skeptical.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Hallie sighed deeply. “My hindsight isn’t as clear as I’d like it to be. He was so wonderful and I loved him, I really did.” She paused and added, “But apparently not enough.”
“What makes you think about Gregg now?”
Hallie wasn’t sure. At Christmas she’d received a photo card of Gregg, his wife and their two small children. He looked happy, really happy, and so did his wife. After her weekend with Ellen, Hallie’s feelings about wanting a family of her own had grown even stronger and more certain. It was because of this, she supposed, that Gregg’s family photo had come to mind. She’d even mentally replaced his wife’s image with her own—but only for a moment.
“It’s like this huge hole opened up inside me,” she confessed, twisting the damp tissue around her index finger. “I first noticed it after my dad died, and that hole has gotten bigger and bigger ever since.”
“Is that why you decided to marry?”
The tissue around her finger grew tighter and tighter. “Yes. Last weekend with Ellen was crazy, but you know what? I loved it. By the time Julie and Jason arrived, I was hooked on motherhood and I didn’t want to let her go.”
“You didn’t?”
“Oh, I made it sound like it was one disaster after another, but it wasn’t. On Sunday Steve brought over some ointment to numb her gums, and after that, Ellen was a jewel. I know now that I could deal with the sleepless nights and hard times—because I know it’s worth it.” She drew a shaky breath. “Rita’s been telling me for a long time that when it comes to finding a husband I’m too picky. I laughed her off, but you know what? I’m beginning to think she’s right.”
This appeared to surprise Donnalee.
“Not that I wouldn’t still be discriminating. I mean, a few years back I might have married someone like Mark. I wouldn’t have had the maturity to know otherwise. But I do now.” Drawing another shaky breath, she added, “And now there’s Larry. I really don’t know how I feel about him. He’s sweet, but…oh, I can’t imagine being married to him.”
“Come on, Hallie, stop fretting and let’s enjoy our weekend.”
“You’re right.” Hallie said, determined to take Donnalee’s advice. While she was plagued with doubts about the status of her relationship with Larry, it didn’t compare to what Donnalee was going through.
Word had gotten back to her that Sanford was dating again. Some so-called friend had taken delight in filling her in on the particulars. Shortly afterward, Hallie and Donnalee had arranged this getaway, and Hallie figured Donnalee needed it even more than she did.
Hallie had been a bit concerned about the cost, but on reflection realized she had very little to worry about. Her taxes were paid, her head was above water, she had plenty of work coming in. If she had to shop at Wal-Mart for Christmas, her family would understand.
The hotel deserved every one of those tiny stars listed in the tourist guide. It came complete with little chocolates on the pillow at night, plush bathrobes, perfumed lotion, plus a sauna and exercise room. Not that either one of them needed exercise after three hours of shopping.
Hallie’s shoulders ached from hauling packages around, but they soon found a cure for that—the hotel masseuse. Never having experienced the delights of a massage, Hallie was apprehensive, but the woman put her at ease immediately. An hour later Hallie felt as relaxed as a wet noodle, not sure whether she wanted to crawl into bed or bound out to face the world. A facial followed, and then a manicure.
They dressed for dinner in short skirts with dark hose and ate in the revolving restaurant atop the hotel. Anything they’d saved shopping with a thirty-five percent discount, thanks to the Canadian dollar, they splurged on a bottle of Dom Pérignon—certainly the most expensive champagne Hallie’d ever had.
The night was lovely. Vancouver spread out before them, a panoply of twinkling lights. Hallie didn’t know if it was the beauty of their surroundings or the shopping or the effect of having her body deliciously pummeled, but she felt rejuvenated—and surprisingly happy.
“It’s like we’re celebrating,” she said. Although there was little evidence that she was any closer to achieving her goal now than when she’d started, she felt a sense of anticipation, of renewed energy.
“We are celebrating,” Donnalee said, holding up the crystal flute. “To us. And to our future husbands, whoever they may be.”
“To our future husbands,” Hallie returned as they touched glasses. Husband. It meant a man who would be her lover, her partner, her friend. Her companion in life.
“I feel good,” Donnalee said, leaning back in her chair. “Not just physically, either.”
“I do, too,” Hallie said.
“Funny—losing Sanford doesn’t hurt as much as it did this morning.” She smiled. “I guess that’s what a day of total self-indulgence will do.” Donnalee gazed at the view below them for a minute. “I knew it would be painful when I broke the engagement, but I wasn’t prepared for how…lonely I’d feel afterward. How empty.”
Hallie admired her friend for being unwilling to accept less than her dream in such an important matter as family. For trusting that eventually there would be someone else, a man who shared her goals and who wanted children as much as she did. A man worth waiting for.
They slept late the next morning, ate breakfast at the hotel and with reluctance began the drive back to Seattle early in the afternoon. This weekend had been an escape from their real lives, and now they were returning to those lives, refreshed and optimistic. Hallie was determined to hang on to her positive feelings.
It started to rain shortly after they crossed the border, but she tried not to read any significance into that.
“You’re the one who told me there’d be another man for me after Sanford,” Donnalee said. She smiled softly. “I feel ready to look for him now.”
“That’s great.” Hallie pressed her head against the seat, pleased with Donnalee’s decision. “Then you’re going back to Dateline?”
Donnalee took a long time to respond. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” Donnalee couldn’t have surprised her more had she announced that she’d already met the man she planned to marry.
“I can’t give you a logical explanation. But I have the feeling I won’t meet him through any dating service.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to remind Donnalee that she was the person who’d convinced her to sign up with the service. She supposed she had no real reason to complain, though; Dateline had already sent her a number of potential dates. Two of them she’d dated extensively. Mark and Larry. But Mark had been a serious—even frightening—disappointment. And Larry…well, Larry was probably as indifferent to her as she was to him.
Hallie was mulling all this over when she noticed that Donnalee had exited the freeway. She was only minutes away from home. Once they arrived, she felt a rush of pleasure and satisfaction; her condo, with its neatly planted shrubs, its hanging basket of ferns, its bright door and attractive curtains, looked so welcoming, so dear and familiar. She unloaded her suitcase and all her accumulated treasures from the trunk of Donnalee’s car, then waved a fond farewell as Donnalee drove off.
When she was inside out of the rain, Hallie glanced at her phone. She should call Larry and let him know she was home safe and sound. Hesitating, she wondered if Larry really cared—and knew the answer.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she walked to her wall phone and lifted the receiver. Her purse was still draped over her shoulder. Her suitcase and assorted packages sat in the middle of the living room.
“Hello,” Larry answered without enthusiasm, as if he resented the phone’s intrusion on his day.
“It’s Hallie.”
“How was Canada?” he continued in the same dry tone, devoid of any hint of enthusiasm or energy. Hallie often wondered how his students were able to sit through his lectures and not fall asleep.
“Canada,” she repeated when she realized he was waiting for her answer. “Spectacular. Wonderful.”
“Good.”
Silence.
“Larry…this time away has given me an opportunity to do some thinking.” She was a coward, Hallie decided, to be doing this over the phone. A living breathing coward. “I haven’t made any secret of how much I admire you,” she said, focusing her eyes on the ceiling, praying God would forgive her for this lie. She wanted to spare his feelings as she delivered the message that she no longer wished to date him.
“I imagine that a man of my education and background is impressive to someone like you.”
She took exception to the “someone like you” and under normal circumstances would have questioned him. Doing so now would only prolong the inevitable.
“This time apart has been good for us both,” she began. “It’s given me the opportunity to, uh, clear my head.”
“A person needs that occasionally. Eliminate the frivolous and concentrate on what’s important.”
“Exactly.” Now all she had to do was find a way of explaining that she no longer considered him important. Unsure how to accomplish that, she asked, “Did you miss me while I was away?”
“Miss you?” He sounded surprised. “I suppose I did…but you weren’t away more than thirty-two hours. We haven’t known each other long, Hallie, and it’s really not a question of missing you. The significance of someone’s absence is relative to the amount of time two people have been exposed to each other, which in our case has only been a matter of weeks.”
“Six,” she muttered, cursing herself for doing such a miserable job of this.
“My point exactly.”
“If you don’t know how you feel about me now…”
“Feel about you,” Larry said. “I hardly know you! Are you pressuring me to propose, Hallie? Because if so, I think you should know that I refuse to bend to pressure.”
Propose. He thought she wanted him to propose!
“I wasn’t expecting a marriage proposal,” she told him, wondering how their conversation could have gone so far off course. “Actually I was looking for a diplomatic way to say that I think it would be best for us both to move on and date others.” In case there was room for misunderstanding, she added, “Not each other.”
Her announcement was followed by a stiff silence. “You mean to say you want to break up with me?” He sounded aghast. Shocked.
“Yes,” she replied meekly, then hurried to say, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I’m sure there’s someone perfectly wonderful waiting to meet you.”
“That’s what the last woman told me,” he said gruffly.
“I’m sorry, but there just isn’t any…spark between us.”
The line grew quiet. Then, “If you’re looking for sparks, I suggest you snuggle up with an electric fence.” With that, he hung up on her.
Hallie allowed herself a little sarcasm. “Goodbye, Larry. I wish you well, too.” Shaking her head, she replaced the receiver.