Alvin's Farm Book 5: An Innate Sense of Recognition

  On an early Sunday morning, Chelsea Schumacher woke to a brutal pain, then her water broke. She was to be induced that following Tuesday, but Chelsea’s babies had decided for themselves. Those twins were on their way.

  As the sun rose on the twenty-ninth of July, a flurry of ringtones roused people from sleep. By seven o’clock Chelsea, Andy, Jenny, and Sam were at the hospital and Will, Rachel, and Eric were on their way, David too. Due to his long drive and that her labor might be more swift than Bethany’s, Chelsea had called that brother as soon as she got off the phone with her mother. Then she stopped to breathe through a contraction, phoning the rest of her siblings.

  Those initial calls filtered to a family large and wide, by which time Chelsea was dressed in a hospital gown. Because she had carried the babies for thirty-six weeks, they would be delivered in Arkendale, moved only in case of emergency.

  Chelsea’s Albany physician, Dr. Eleanor Bennett, was on her way, plenty of staff on hand however Chelsea delivered. That it was Dr. Hanover to first examine Chelsea was comforting until Chelsea suffered a contraction in the middle of the exam.

  “You’re already at four centimeters.” Dr. Hanover’s familiar voice soothed. “That’s terrific.”

  Chelsea paid little attention until the pain ceased. Then she looked up. “That’s nearly halfway!”

  Dr. Hanover nodded. “I bet you’ll have these babies before dinner time.”

  Three hours had elapsed when David arrived. Chelsea was at six centimeters, details passed to all in the lobby. In Chelsea’s room were her parents and siblings, and Andy’s mother Paula. Eric Schumacher waited with his old friends, but Tommie had snuck in, wishing Alvin’s daughter the best.

  Unlike Bethany’s labor, Chelsea progressed quickly, too fast for her liking, for the pain was intense. Chelsea wanted to have her babies as naturally as possible. By noon she was nearly effaced, only her mother and Andy in the room.

  The rest paced outside, Sam and his sons and Rachel the most nervous. Bethany stood with Rae and other mothers, a babbling Louise at ease with those women who knew childbirth took its own course. What Chelsea wanted and what would occur could be two different issues.

  “Christ,” Sam muttered. “Why won’t she text?”

  Jenny had been keeping him abreast, but Sam had heard nothing for over ten minutes. Then his phone buzzed, causing all to look his way.

  “Well?” David was as edgy as his father.

  “Says she’s pushing, and Chelsea still hasn’t had any drugs.”

  A loud cheer rose from all in the space. Some giggles followed, but Sam couldn’t be prouder. At this stage, he imagined Chelsea’s stubbornness, and ignorance, might carry her through. She just didn’t know how much worse it might get.

  It was one fifteen before Sam received another text, short and to the point: Babies are here, everyone’s fine. It only took minutes for Jenny to emerge, in tears. “Oh my God,” she blurted. “They’re so beautiful!”

  Chelsea’s son had been born first, weighed six pounds even. A daughter arrived two minutes later, five pounds and eleven ounces, loud and squirmy, like her mother, Jenny laughed. Chelsea had done it without pain medication, was fully exhausted, and when Jenny left, had that boy to her breast. It couldn’t have gone any better.

  “What’re their names?” Tommie asked, holding one of his sister’s hands.

  “They’ve named them for, oh my God!” Jenny began to cry again.

  “For who?” Will shouted.

  “For Keith and Sylvia.” Jenny wept in Sam’s arms as soft murmurs moved through the crowd.

  “So we’ve got a Keith and Sylvia Schumacher?” Sam asked gently.

  “Not exactly,” Jenny said, pulling from him. “She used their middle names. It’s Marshall Andrew and, and…”

  No one there knew the Baxters well enough to recognize those details. “And what?” Rae huffed.

  “Jenny Bedelia. Chelse named her daughter for Sylvia and me.”

  The first visitors were both sets of grandparents, then Eric Schumacher departed, allowing Will, David, Rachel, and Eric in the room. Chelsea was nursing little Jenny by then, but Marshall was passed around, all in awe. Chelsea felt as her sister-in-law had looked, like a truck had gone through her body, her words punctured by tears. Then she asked to see Tommie and Rae, Rachel and Eric fetching those two.

  David gave up his place, allowing Bethany a minute. He passed his Uncle Tommie and Aunt Rae as he headed back. “They’re waiting for you,” he grinned.

  “What, they kick you out already?” Tommie smiled.

  “I’m gonna let Bethany have a peek, but my God, they’re the most beautiful fuck…”

  Rae hit his arm. “David Thomas!”

  He laughed, gave them a kiss, then disappeared down the hall.

  Tommie opened the door for his wife, first noting a proud grandmother in the rocker, Paula cradling a baby. Probably good Chelsea had delivered two, Tommie considered, everyone dying to hold a newborn.

  Then he stared to the new mother and his breath was taken; Chelsea looked just like Jenny, some enormous change having occurred. For a few seconds he was worried; Jenny’s hurts had started to evaporate with Chelsea’s birth, what he knew from their many talks over the years. Jenny had begun to live again with a newborn at her side, then Sam had taken care of the rest. A pretty blunt way to put it, but what Jenny had decided. It was Alvin of course, then Chelsea, finally Sam. In Chelsea’s eased eyes, Tommie wondered what demon had been put to rest for that girl.

  He approached her first, letting Rae hold a baby. He wasn’t even sure which was which, the blankets white, then he saw a blue hat peeking from the bundle in Rae’s arms.

  Jenny sat on Chelsea’s other side, both beaming from ear to ear, but it was the daughter in Tommie’s arms first, Alvin’s daughter and now a mother. “Hey there honey, how are you?”

  Chelsea sniffled. “I did it Uncle Tommie, I had a baby!”

  “I think you had two,” he chuckled, one of them making small noises.

  “Yeah, God, I can sure feel it. If I ever have another, I’m gonna be so drugged, I won’t make sense for days.”

  Laughter was light, as not to disturb two new people, one of whom was presented to Tommie by Alvin’s other child. Will offered a pink hat wrapped in white and Tommie opened his right arm, letting Will set that girl into his heart.

  Another crack widened in Tommie’s soul, but nothing bad, only the perfect sweetness of a newborn, yet not just any baby. Tommie wondered if he would feel this way when David, Rachel, and Eric had their kids, hoping that all those offspring of Alvin, Jenny, and Sam took any lasting fears. Mitch and Tanner were forgotten as a small blonde named Jenny landed in Tommie’s arms.

  He stared at her sleeping face, no freckles, but Tommie assumed those would appear with time. Already she had her grandmother’s gentle smile, just a reflex, but even in sleep it was as lovely as the one Grandma Jenny wore when Tommie caught her eyes.

  He said nothing, Sam noting once again Tommie was speechless. “Get a piece of paper, write this down,” he joked.

  “Well Uncle Tommie, whatdya think?”

  Chelsea’s voice was tired, but new; something was different about that girl, what might it be? He would ask her later, maybe in a few days. At that moment he kissed a small face, his good hand squeezed by a new mother.

  “She looks like her grandma,” he whispered, unsure if Paula was still there. Then he stared at Chelsea. “Jenny Bedelia huh?”

  “We’re gonna call her Jenn or Jenna, or who knows! Maybe Bedelia.”

  “Not Bedelia,” Andy sighed.

  Giggles erupted, Will and Bethany leading them. Tommie kissed the baby once more. “Here Aunty Bethany, you have a look.”

  Tommie only needed a minute, so much love waiting for both Marshall and Jenn or Jenna or even maybe another Jenny. Not Jennifer, Tommie noted, wondering if that was intentional. Once Jenny Cope, now Grandma Jenny. As Tommie embraced Alvin’s daughter, again he fel
t some change within her. Staring at her mother, he wondered if Chelsea knew.

  She didn’t, not overtly. But in the course of a difficult but drug-free labor, certain details had emerged, enough for Andy to wonder if Sam’s two wives had both suffered similar fates. Jenny only said that if Chelsea really wanted to do this without being medicated, she would have to dig down deep and accept the agony, aware a great gift was waiting. That had gotten Chelsea through those last twenty minutes; she was worn and tired, but had gritted her teeth, clutched her mother’s hand, Andy’s too. What she told Tommie the next day, with Marshall tight to her chest, Little Jenny in an uncle’s competent hold.

  They were alone for those few minutes, early in the morning, Tommie sneaking in before visiting hours. He had wondered about it all night, then couldn’t wait. In a few days, Chelsea might not remember.

  “All she said was that she came from such a lousy background, had no support in her life until she moved here.” Chelsea paused, putting Marshall to her other breast, as uncaring to who saw her as her mother had been. “I almost asked her, but God Uncle Tommie, it hurt so damned bad.” Chelsea laughed, then kissed her son’s head. “And now, well, they’re here and I survived.” She giggled. “I have a son and a daughter.”

  She grew teary. With the baby nestled along his right arm, Tommie handed Chelsea a tissue with his good hand. “Yes you did honey, you certainly did.”

  Under Marshall’s blue hat was a heap of blonde curls, Chelsea told him. Both babies had blue eyes, but Tommie was sure Jenny would look like her grandmother. “Are you really gonna call her Jenn?”

  “I don’t know. But certainly not Bedelia,” Chelsea smiled.

  “No,” Tommie laughed. “But it’s a good middle name.”

  Chelsea nodded. “I loved them so much, it was just something that came to me. It’s like they were here yesterday. Maybe Grandma helped me get them out.”

  Tommie wouldn’t have been surprised, suspected someone else had been floating nearby too. “Well, you did it. How long you gonna be in here?”

  Tommie took in a few details as Andy arrived, looking punchy but thrilled. They would be discharged probably tomorrow, the babies’ birth weights healthy for their gestation. Marshall would be circumcised that afternoon, and unless some trouble arose, mother and infants would leave together.

  Tommie gave the new dad his daughter, then kissed Chelsea’s head. “All right, I better git before someone gives me hell.” Pulling out his camera, Tommie took a few snaps. “Rae’d have my head if I didn’t take a couple of shots.”

  “Tell her to come by this afternoon,” Chelsea said.

  “But text first,” Andy offered. “They want Chelse to get some rest.”

  “Actually she said she’d see you at home later this week,” Tommie smiled.

  “Tell her I love her,” Chelsea murmured. “Tell her I really love her!”

  “Honey, I will surely do that.” Tommie wished them well, then slipped from the room.

  “Oh Andy, did you sleep okay?” Chelsea asked once they were alone. It was a relative term, as Marshall played with her left nipple, Jenny in her father’s arms.

  He smiled, then reached for her face. “I got some. Missed you though.”

  “Yeah, maybe our first night apart?”

  “Maybe. How’d you sleep?”

  “Okay. Can you, I mean, will you stay here tonight?”

  They had discussed that Andy would stay at home, getting as much rest as possible. So much was due to change, and while Chelsea would be at the mercy of nursing twins, at least one parent should try to sleep.

  Andy nodded. “Baby, I was gonna insist.”

  A new mother let her emotions go, Andy wiping tears as he cradled his newborn daughter.

  Later that afternoon Chelsea marveled over her son’s circumcision. He had looked funny uncircumcised. Now it was red and slightly swollen.

  Jenny sat close, Grandma Jenny as she preferred, holding her namesake. Sam had a chair on Chelsea’s other side, Andy picking up something to eat. The three adults spoke of simple things, the beauty of tiny fingers, the fragrant scent of small, new heads. Chelsea let her father affix Marshall’s diaper, then leaned back in bed, that small son in a grandfather’s secure grip.

  “You think it hurts him?” she asked.

  “Maybe a little,” Jenny said. “They all go through it.”

  Chelsea nodded, then gazed at her mother. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

  Sam and Jenny looked Chelsea’s way. Then she stared into the room, her mood uncertain.

  “What honey?”

  Chelsea wept, her body in such flux. Her belly was still plump, not nearly what it was before, but her heart seemed to have accepted that extra baggage. The love for her children was more than she had dreamed, the same increase for her husband. Mother and daughter had spoken of those occurrences; Chelsea knew they were coming, but until she had actually given birth, the true preponderance had only been hinted at. Now she had it, and would for the rest of her life. But staring at her was another mother, appearing so different. Jenny Cassel didn’t look at all the same to her daughter.

  “Nothing Mom, nothing. Can I have her?”

  Jenny leaned forward, setting the baby into Chelsea’s arms.

  Sam stood, then set his bundle into his wife’s empty hands. “I’ll go find Andy.”

  “No Daddy, wait.” Chelsea admired her daughter, then looked at her parents. “I need to ask you something, ask Mom something, but Dad, you don’t have to leave.”

  Sam gripped Jenny’s shoulder. If Chelsea asked, would Jenny tell her, there with two tiny innocents? Yet, nearly thirty-one years before Jenny had let her firstborn absorb years of unworthiness and so much sorrow. Jenny assumed Chelsea had passed it in the initial bowel movement, maybe through small, soft cries. It hadn’t touched her and now she was a mother of twins. Perhaps Chelsea’s heart was protected, maybe she could accept it.

  Sam cleared his throat. “Chelse, what do you wanna know?”

  He sat next to her, their daughter needing him close. For Jenny, it was an ancient past, even with Dana’s aching eyes in almost daily view. They hadn’t spoken of it, but Jenny felt that was coming soon. But maybe it was better for Jenny’s own offspring to learn first.

  “Mom, you said you’d lived some great pain. I can’t begin to tell you how that got me through yesterday. None of us know what it is, I mean, not that we talk about it. We never talk about it, but we know it’s there, and it’s not just Alvin. Before him,” Chelsea paused.

  Jenny nodded.

  “Maybe it’s none of my business, nobody’s but yours and Dad’s. Maybe I shouldn’t even be asking…”

  Andy came through with lunch in his hands. “Anyone hungry? They must’ve thought I was feeding an army.”

  He immediately set the tray on Chelsea’s table. Flowers filled the room, but a different scent lingered, from ages ago. Jenny was glad for his presence; Chelsea would need him too.

  Jenny gave Andy his son. She didn’t trust her ailing body to support that grandchild as she began to answer her daughter’s questions, little bits at a time.

  Only the bare details emerged; as Chelsea accepted it, she might want more information later. Telling her daughter hadn’t been as bad as Jenny had feared, and Andy seemed strangely calm. When Sam offered that his first wife had also been abused in a similar manner, Jenny saw knowledge in a lawman’s eyes. Andy knew about Tracy, probably had for a long time.

  But he hadn’t known about Jenny. Andy had laid his son in the bassinette, then gripped her with arms as protective as the ones he used with his wife and now their children. Then Andy stood back, helping Jenny into her chair. “Is that what’s wrong with Dana?” he asked.

  “What?” Chelsea had been huddled in Sam’s grasp, both babies napping in their bassinettes. “What are you talking about?”

  Sam nodded, smoothing her hair. “Baby, it’s only between us. Yeah Andy, that’s the issue.”

  ??
?Well, I appreciate your candor.”

  They wouldn’t need to say any more. Nor would Jenny have to worry about her past being spilled. Chelsea had been aghast, then in tears, promising to not breathe a word. But Jenny felt that wouldn’t last long. Not that Chelsea would say anything, but Will had been curious, and once Dana knew…

  How long should one cling to secrets, Jenny considered. Look what happened to Bonnie Carmine; Alvin’s handicap had been no one’s fault. Jenny had hurt herself for years and Dana was much the same. Tanner’s life might have been different if someone had told him about Jan’s suicide before he heard it on the school playground. Not that Jenny wanted everyone privy to her history, but maybe within a few ears it would be all right.

  “Listen, a lot’s been said here today,” she began, but didn’t move. She needed help up, and Chelsea wasn’t ready to let go of her father. “Baby, it was years and years ago, all over now. I just wanted you to understand that pain is fleeting. When you’re surrounded by love, there’s no place for it to linger.”

  That was the essence. If nothing else, Jenny wished to impart that to her daughter.

  “Mom, my God, how’d you survive?”

  That question hadn’t been asked, the answers too numerous for Jenny to allow in that small hospital room. She didn’t wish to elaborate in front of her son-in-law or her newborn grandchildren how she had survived by sex with strangers, then lovemaking with two most giving, blessed men. One had left her, but not before offering her to the best hands. Jenny felt that was appropriate, what she said to her daughter. “Honey, I did a lot of stupid, harmful things, then Sylvia brought me here. I know you’re sick to death of miracles, but…”

  “No, no! Will told me that accidents happen for a reason, not always for the worst. Not that what happened to you was an accident, but…”

  To the surprise of all, Jenny stood on her own power, moving to Sam’s side. Chelsea let him go, her husband taking Sam’s place while Sam embraced his wife. “Chelse, misfortune occurs all the time, but good things too. Was it the luck of the draw that Sylvia found me, that I walked down that lane? Why did Alvin climb that tree, how did Sam wait as long as he did?” Jenny kissed him, then reached for Chelsea’s hand. “Honey, I made it out by the grace of God that for a long time I never believed existed. But he does, and you’re here because of him, your siblings the same.”

  Marshall started to stir and Andy collected his son. “Chelse, it’s not what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. It’s what doesn’t kill us allows us to love if we can get past the anger. Whether it’s self-directed or focused on somebody, hatred is what holds us down. When I had you, all I knew was some new thing had happened to me, something so beautiful. I’d loved your pop, then had his baby. Pretty simple, but so profound. Took a while after that to get my head around it, that and Sam.”

  Jenny kissed him again, then gave her child’s hand another squeeze. Chelsea wept, but Jenny let Andy comfort her.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Leaning over, Jenny kissed Chelsea’s cheek. “Either here or at home. You call, let us know what time they’re letting you out of here. Okay?”

  Jenny’s last word came after a beat and Chelsea nodded.

  “Okay honey. I love you, and I’m so proud of you.”

  Jenny and Sam stroked their granddaughter’s sleeping face, then left the room. Once the Schumacher family was alone, Chelsea gave her son to her husband, then began sobbing. Andy set that little boy next to his sister, climbed into bed with his wife, offering thankful prayers for his family, and for Jenny Cassel’s incredible endurance.

  Chapter 19