The Nash Sisters Page 4

  Mother slowly slid across the booth without looking at me. After she followed my father out, I rose from the booth dejected. Having this conversation in the diner had not been a good idea after all.

  As soon as we got in the car and closed the doors, the yelling started.

  My father’s face was practically purple when he shouted, “What the hell were you thinking, boy? You are too young to have a kid; you are still a kid yourself! You know nothing about how hard life is!”

  Mother raised her own voice to be heard. “You have ruined your life, Frank! You think getting married will keep you from being a sinner? Well, it is too late for that! Becoming a father before you finish school is foolish! We had a plan. You agreed to that plan! We have provided for you so you could become a successful lawyer. Oh, I don’t care; you could be a doctor if you wanted. But you would be somebody!”

  I was a bit embarrassed because we were behind glass, not a curtain. People could see and hear us as clear as if we were standing outside the car. Dad must have realized this and threw the gear shift into reverse. We screeched out of the parking lot.

  I didn’t respond. I just wanted them to get it out. All the way back home they screamed out words and sentences, not always making sense.

  Dad was really hollering and throwing out questions. “How do you think you can feed and clothe a child? It takes money! What about a house? Paying for school? A boy of 16 in school can’t do any of that!”

  Mother managed a lower tone, but it was full of hatred as she tossed her own words at me. “She lured you into this, didn’t she? Oh dear God! You don’t have to be involved with her baby. It was her choice, so let her be responsible!”

  They went on and on. I wished I was seven years old again when Dad would whip me for something I had done wrong and it would be over. I’d rather have that than shouting about it on and on. When we arrived home, I jumped out of the car and ran toward the house. Before I got to the front porch, I turned back to them and shouted, “I will not talk to you about this until you can be civil!” Those were my mother’s words coming out of my mouth. I ran up to the porch, shoved open the door, and ran to my room. I slammed the bedroom door and locked it.

  I stood in the middle of my room full of loathing for my parents. I kicked the bedside table as hard as I could across the room. The lamp fell and shattered on the floor. I slammed my fist into the picture of our family that hung on the wall. I began to tear up everything that reminded me I was their kid and not my own man. I threw myself on the bed and yelled every curse word I knew.

  During the next several hours Mother or Dad would come to my door and ask to come in or for me to come out. Each time I refused. The sun was setting, and I could smell dinner being prepared. I felt calm again. I began to rehearse the points that would be needed for this debate. It was not necessary for them to agree with what I was doing, just to accept the fact I was doing it. I did not need their permission. If I was old enough to be a father, I was old enough to make my own decisions. I picked up a few sheets of paper that had been slung across the room and began to look for a pencil in the carnage I had created. I started the list of retorts I wanted to make to what they had already said. I am just a kid—my age is not a factor. I am able to do everything Dad can do. Fix things, manage the farm, get a job, and provide for a wife. I wrote a list:

  1.Ethel is beneath me. You don’t know Ethel. She is sweet, caring, smart, and knows what she wants. I am glad she wants me. I am the one beneath her in this world.

  2.She forced me to “knock her up.” I have wanted her to be my girl for months and even years. She resisted my advances because she wanted to be sure we would not make a mistake. The first time we had sex was proof that we were ready to declare our love for each other. If you want me to describe it to you, I can.

  3.Ethel can’t support me as a doctor or lawyer. That is your dream, not mine. I want to be a good man with a farm or a good job. I want to have a family. I will not be in “circles” that would judge who I am. I don’t want to be worried all the time, like Mother is, that we are not good enough.

  4.Money to raise a child. I can make money by getting a job. Ethel is a baker and seamstress. She already is lining up some clients who will pay her. We can both finish school right here in Wilson County—for free. If we can’t live here, Ethel’s mother said we can live with her until we get on our feet.

  I started a new list with the points I knew my parents would make but had not yet. I needed to think how to respond to those.

  Who knows about this?

  When will we get married?

  When will the baby come?

  No need to get married.

  This affects their reputation in the Wilson County.

  Money, money, money . . .

  Mother knocked on the door again and softly said, “Frank, let’s talk this out. Dinner is ready. You need to eat. You didn’t eat a thing at lunch. Please come to the table.”

  I told her I would be there in a minute. I heard her exhale like she had overcome a really big problem.

  We did not talk about The Problem until dinner was finished. Mother rambled on about the weather turning cool, the fall vegetables that needed to be planted, and so on and so on. Neither Dad nor I paid attention.

  As Mother cleared the dishes from the table, I said to them, “Please let me talk and you just listen. Let’s not shout.” There was no emotion in my voice, just calmness because I had thought this through.

  “Dad, I know you are upset because you don’t think I am old enough to take on this kind of responsibility. Well, I think I am. And I am taking this on. You will not have to be bothered with what you think is my mistake. I will get a job at the cotton mill. They pay pretty well and are always looking for good help. Ethel is a great baker and seamstress. She already has people that pay her for that. After the baby is older she will go after more clients.”

  “Mother, I know this is not what you planned for me. It actually is not the timeline I planned out either. But I love Ethel as much as you love Dad. Once you fell in love, could you think about not being with Dad? Even before you got married?” She looked lovingly at Dad and shook her head.

  I told them Ethel’s mother had said we could live with her family, if we wanted to. She has a big enough house. Ethel’s sister, Dianne is moving out when she gets married in a few months. Then there will be an extra room. Ethel’s sisters Annie and Caroline can help around the house and with the baby while Ethel and I work. I also said since they worried about our family reputation there was another option. I was thinking Ethel and I could move away before everyone knows about the baby. If we decided to move back to Wilson County someday, we could do it long after people have stopped counting the months between marriage and fatherhood.

  The tears flowed from my mother’s eyes. Dad sat silently with his hands holding his head as if exhausted. I got up from my chair and hugged them both.

  I said, “To both of you I want to say I did not intend to hurt or disappoint you. I knew you would be surprised by our news, but I did not think you would hate me for it. You raised me to be a good person. I thought you would support me and be a little proud of how I am taking responsibility.”

  Then I walked back to my room and locked the door.

  I climbed out of the window and walked the two miles to Ethel’s house. She and I planned that I would come by after I told my parents the news. When I reached her house, the sky was black but lit by a full moon. There was Ethel, out in the front yard, sitting in the swing that was made for Caroline. Ethel was swinging slowly. As I got closer, I noticed the breeze she was making as she swung. Her dress was blowing, covering the seat and the ropes below her hands. The light from the house appeared just behind her hair. It looked like she was a flying angel. She was so pretty that I could hardly breathe. Once I came into view, she jumped down from the swing and ran over to me. She grabbed my hand. I wanted to kiss her so bad, but we tried not to do that where people could see.

 
“How did it go?” she asked.

  “It was horrible. They are disappointed in me. They think we are too young. They screamed and hollered for what seemed like hours.”

  I told her most of the rest of the story. She listened so quietly, it felt like I could talk forever. When I paused, she leaned over to me and said, “Frank, that must have been so awful. I am sorry.” Those were the words I spoke to her before we made love the first time.

  Ethel’s mother called from inside the house, “You okay out there? Frank, how did it go with your parents?”

  I fudged a bit with the truth saying, “It was okay, Mrs. Nash. We still have some things to figure out.”

  Mrs. Nash came to the screen door and said, “Frank, you and Ethel will figure it all out. And in the end, we are going to have a beautiful baby! Praise God!”

  Ethel and I agreed with that. We are lucky to have each other. I know we are going to work this out but, man, I am a little stumped about how it will all go.

  MAY 1928

  Ethel

  Plans Change

  Best laid plans, they say, can come undone. That was certainly true for me and Frank. We were to get married as soon as we could and become a normal family. The Pollards had a different plan, and they made Frank an offer. The baby had different plans too. Here’s the way it all went.

  AS TIME FOR THE BIRTH approached, Frank worked hard to help me be ready for the baby. It was decided. Frank would not be around for long after the baby was born. He had agreed to his parent’s terms. He figured we could have the best of both worlds in the agreement. The marriage would be postponed until next year. He would stay in Wilson County until Blue Ridge School started in September. In return, his parents would pay for Frank’s three years of college prep school, buy him a car, and give him cash to live on. We decided, but did not tell anyone, that I would join him in Virginia with the baby as soon as we could.

  Our house has four bedrooms. Momma’s room, Caroline and Annie shared a room, Dianne’s room and my bedroom. Since Dianne would be moving out soon, her bedroom would be vacant. Momma said I could have Dianne’s room for the baby. I wanted the baby with me, so we decided to divide my room into two rooms. That way Caroline and Annie could have their own rooms. We would put up a curtain to divide my side of the room from the baby’s part. That way we could really have a baby room. Momma said it is best that the baby can’t see the momma all the time, day and night. The baby wouldn’t sleep soundly and would just want to be in Momma’s arms. Since she was a momma of four girls, I guess she was an expert at these kinds of things.

  After a long day in school and finishing daily chores at the farm, Frank came to my house to paint the baby’s room. I set the table for dinner so Frank could eat before getting started on the room. Every time I saw Frank lately, my face would flush and tears began pooling in my eyes. It was harder and harder to keep from crying.

  Dianne said the emotions were probably due to pregnancy more than our situation. During one of my crying jags last month, Dianne said, “You are strong, Ethel. You always have been the strongest of us girls. You will be fine raising this baby without a man.’’

  I had not told my best friend and sister the plans that Frank and I had in mind. I would not be raising this baby alone.

  As Frank entered the house, he removed his cap and moved quickly to the kitchen. “Hey, E, how are you feeling today?” he said as he kissed me on the cheek.

  “I’m fine, Frank. Just a little tired. According to Momma’s calculations, I have one or two more weeks to go. It will be good to get this part over.”

  Frank’s eyes met mine. He gave me a strong hug. There was no need to say anything more. I knew he was mad, sad, and exasperated about what his parents were doing to get him away from me. I also knew he had no intention of fulfilling their command not to be involved with “Ethel’s baby.” We had talked about this a hundred times since he told his parents that I was going to have the baby—our baby.

  Frank released his arms from me and planted another kiss, this time on my lips. I will never forget his lips. They were soft and sweet like ice cream on a hot summer day.

  “Okay then—just a few weeks. Let’s finish our baby’s room,” Frank said as he grabbed the biscuit and ham from his plate and moved into the back room.

  I picked up the curtain that I made for the room and followed him. The curtain was made of cotton voile print. Momma helped me pick it out. She was so good at sewing and knew what kind of fabrics looked best as a dress, bedsheet, or curtain. I thought it was so pretty. It had a white background with small swatches of green color and darker green plants placed at random. It looked like a garden to me. When I held it up, it softly fluttered in the air. It would be just what we needed.

  Frank painted the baby’s part of the room yellow, and he repainted my part of the room white. It was making everything all crisp and clean looking.

  Momma joined us after coming in from the yard. She was carrying a bunch of yellow roses she cut from the fence. There was an empty jar on the dresser where Momma had removed the last bunch of flowers. She kept fresh flowers in the room all the time. She smiled and said, “I really like the color you picked. A soft yellow will remind our baby of sunshine. It won’t matter if it is a girl or a boy.”

  As she arranged the roses in the jar, I thought of the fence line covered in yellow roses. Momma often told the story about Daddy planting those roses when they got settled in this new house. Momma’s best friend in the world, Ellen, lived in the house on the other side of the fence. Daddy said since Ellen and Momma would spend so much time yakking over the fence, they should have something pretty to lean on. Momma always ended this story with, “And that is how yellow roses became my favorite flower.” When she told that story, I thought yellow roses would always be my favorite flower too.

  I was in my part of the bedroom while Frank finished painting the door and trim around the room. I was ironing the baby’s clothes that had been given to me by the ladies at the church. I heard Frank whistle like men do when a pretty woman is walking by. I could tell he was pleased with his work, so I came in to inspect. When I saw the finished project, I whistled too.

  I looked over at Frank with an adoring smile, “Yes indeed, Mr. Pollard, you did an excellent job! I just need to get the rest of the furniture in, and we are ready!”

  Frank turned to me and looked at my swollen belly. “I am glad we have a couple more weeks, because I am working on one more thing. I can bring it by in a few days.”

  “Wait, Frank, I’m not sure we can fit anything else in this room. What is it?”

  As he was gathering his things to leave, he said with a sly smile, “I’m not telling. But it is something you will need.”

  I protested, “Frank, don’t get in trouble doing anything at home for the baby. Your parents will be furious, and they will ship you away sooner. Besides, I think we have everything we need.”

  I could tell he was tired because he did not argue or explain. He just raised his hand in the air as he walked out of the house.

  The next morning I asked Dianne if she would go into town with me. Momma had a list of things she needed, and I needed a few more things for the baby. Since we both liked getting out on a warm, sunny day, Dianne jumped at the chance. Besides, Dianne had a list too, if we had enough household money left over after the shopping for Momma and me. I led our mule Sadie from the barn over to the wagon. She was happy to come with me because she knew I had apples in my pocket. She actually followed my pocket, not me. We got Sadie hooked to the wagon. Dianne climbed up to the seat easily. I was struggling to pull myself up.

  “Every day it seems you are getting bigger, Ethel,” Dianne said. “It looks like you will pop any moment now! And that would be messy!” I finally hoisted myself onto the bench seat. I shoved Dianne and said, “Stop being mean, my bigger sister!” Sadie groaned a bit when I sat down. Dianne just laughed.

  After a mile or so bumping along the dusty road in silence, as if in a way to
apologize, Dianne said, “Your room looks nice. It was very clever to divide the room so you could have some privacy. You and Frank have done a great job on it.”

  “I don’t know why I will need privacy from my own child. There will never be a man in that room. Since Frank is leaving me, I will not find another man to tell me how to raise my child,” I said with false anger.

  Dianne skipped over that last comment and said, “When does Frank leave for school?”

  “His parents wanted him to leave last October—as soon as they found out he got me preggo! They did not want him to have any part of my mistake!” I said with real anger, and not toward my sister. “But Frank put his foot down and told them he would move out in his own good time whether he went to the Blue Ridge School or not! For now, that means he will be there for fall term. That is September first. So, I have Frank’s help a little while longer.

  “Let’s change the subject, Dianne. I get so darn mad when I think about it. Say something to make me laugh.”

  Sadie pulled us toward town. She had been up this hill and around the curve so many times, she knew exactly where to go. Dianne began to sing a song we had made up together. It was to the tune of Jesus Loves Me.

  Boys all love me! This I know,

  For they always tell me so.

  Pretty ones to them belong;

  They are weak, but we are strong.

  Then I joined in for the refrain.

  Yes, boys all love me!

  Yes, boys all love me!

  Yes, boys all love me!

  But we don’t need them no, no, no!

  That worked! We started laughing and couldn’t stop. We sang it again and again, laughing at the same time. Sadie turned around and did her whinny then hee-haw noise. She was laughing with us! By the time we got to town, my sides and back hurt from laughing and bouncing.