Alvin's Farm Book 5: An Innate Sense of Recognition
A new life was dawning, but not crowning, by the early hours of October twenty-second. Bethany was indeed having her baby, but like her mother, it was a slow process. In those nighttime hours, only Will and his wife had gone to Arkendale General, asking family to wait until Sam and Jenny announced Bethany was effaced. Pushing, Rae had said, giving a small huff, then going to bed.
All the rest were antsy, but soon everyone followed suit. The only two getting little slumber were the bride and groom. Chelsea and Andy made love most of the night, recalling their big day, and those to come, once they left for Hawaii. But not until Will’s baby was born.
Instead they remained in bed, speaking of promises made, vows Chelsea carried deep in her heart. She loved this burly, striking man, one with blunt edges but the softest hands, which touched her all over once that dress was removed.
He had kissed her any place Chelsea thought his mouth could find. Their one night apart stirred eagerness in both; as soon as they were inside their room, clothes were shed, embraces employed, along with voices so touched from all that day had meant; she told him what her father had said about Alvin and Andy repeated it was true. From all he had ever heard, Alvin Harris had adored his child, the only one he knew.
Alvin’s other offspring was so swept away by impending fatherhood, it was up to his parents to keep all informed. On Sunday morning, Jenny and Sam answered texts Will had sent all night long. Then they heard his anxious but thrilled voice, Bethany’s plaintive groans too. Jenny wished for Alvin’s presence; how proud he would be as a grandpa.
Then she smiled at Sam, looking sleepy in bed next to her. They had made love, not all night, but after the house was still. He had seemed slightly distracted, but much had occurred.
Over breakfast with Rachel, David, Eric, and Dana, Jenny enjoyed the relative quiet. Soon a baby would puncture that hush, and Rachel brought it up. “Mom, is this anything like when you had us?”
They had just gotten an update; Bethany was at four centimeters, trying to stay drug-free, but Will wasn’t sure it would last much longer. “Oh that was so different.” Jenny’s smile told of short, to the point labors. Nine hours with Chelsea had decreased until when Eric arrived, Jenny had barely arrived at the hospital in time.
Sam laughed. “Good thing we didn’t have any more, they’d have been born at home!”
The three Cassel kids laughed, but Dana was quiet. Then Eric stood. “Listen, I think we’re gonna go see Tanner and Travis.”
Jenny nodded. Most of the cousins were leaving that day, but Eric’s flight wasn’t until that night, Dana on the same plane. “Give Travis my love. When does he head out?”
“Two, I think. I wonder how many are gonna linger?”
It was the male cousins with flights. Depending on Bethany, the talk was of all-night drives; David and Emily were willing to leave as late as midnight, as Courtney didn’t need to be back to school until Tuesday.
Eric’s hand was gripped by Dana as they left, then Rachel giggled. “I think he really, you know…”
Jenny heard pleasure in Rachel’s tone, but said nothing watching David and Sam’s faces. Both were hesitant, then David grinned. “At least it takes the heat off me.”
“God no kidding,” Rachel sighed.
“What about Zack Schumacher?” Jenny asked.
“Oh, that’s a bit too incestuous.”
“Worked for Scott and Alana and Max and Liz,” Sam offered.
“Well, good for them, but I don’t think I wanna be that closely related to Chelsea’s husband, nothing against Andy,” Rachel chuckled.
Jenny giggled as Sam stayed muted. Then he excused himself.
By noon Bethany had grudgingly accepted an epidural. Her mother would arrive in Portland that night, but Vanessa would drive herself to Arkendale.
As the afternoon dragged, Jenny poked about the house. Once she arrived at the hospital, she wouldn’t leave. Others departed; Travis, Daniel, Brian, and Dustin were on flights. Cara and Kimberly drove away, but Lexi and Ricky would stay for the duration. Eric changed his and Dana’s plane tickets to Monday morning. If that baby hadn’t come by then, he had laughed, too damn bad.
The newlyweds were more flexible; Chelsea wouldn’t leave until she had seen that boy or girl. Texts flew, a few calls too. Will asked his parents to come over and as Jenny stepped into the labor room, she was bombarded by memories as if giving birth herself. In the bed was a sweaty but happy Bethany, not feeling a thing.
Embraces were shared, then the details. Beth was now at seven centimeters, the baby’s heart rate stable. Beth’s mother was slated to arrive around eleven that night, and if Bethany was already pushing, Vanessa would have to wait in the lobby like everyone else.
Jenny thought it odd that Will would take such a back seat, but maybe it was something left over from the rocky days of their marriage. Or perhaps Vanessa always got her own way. Jenny had only met her at the couple’s wedding, not much time to ascertain someone’s personality. From the sounds of it, Bethany’s mother was even more demanding than Rae.
The grandparents-to-be wandered around the hospital for half an hour, then Jenny stepped out, needing some air. It was cool and cloudy, an average Oregon day, perfect for a child to be born. She clutched Sam’s hand, then led him to their car, hospitals holding good and bad slots in her head.
“You okay?” he asked, kissing her face.
“Unless she gets going pretty quickly, I wanna…”
“I know. Will does too.”
She stared at him. “Really?”
“Yeah, said he felt bad, asking us to come down this soon. But I think it was good, you know?”
Jenny nodded. In her head remained a moment where Sam and Alvin crossed, one man leaving her, another who stayed. “Honey, why don’t you text him?”
As Sam pulled out his phone, Jenny stretched, her hips and back behaving. She hadn’t ached in days, was hoping to hold her grandchild without obvious grimaces.
“He says to go home. She’s still at seven.” As Sam approached her, he found tears. “Hey, oh baby! It’s okay.”
Jenny nodded, feeling his arms around her. “Sam, tell me again.”
“Never honey, I’m never gonna leave you, I promise.”
She continued to cry, aware of the strength of his words, also the precariousness. Sam would do all he humanly could to remain, but truthfully, it was out of his hands.
By eight that night, Bethany was nearly effaced and family loitered outside the maternity ward. They could still have an hour, maybe more, but Vanessa Traynor would probably arrive too late. Jenny didn’t care; this was Will and Bethany’s moment. How they wanted to do it was up to them.
With Chelsea, Jenny only had Alvin near, then Tommie and Rae for Will’s arrival. Jenny could sense that moist, tender head, a small plump body with the softest skin. This truly was only for those who made that baby. If Alvin hadn’t died, he would have been with her for Will, who had been an experiment, how the heart could balance immense joy and tremendous heartache. At nine pounds, Will had brokered those emotions with ease.
Jenny’s children with Sam had been different, not her first, but with a mixed parentage. They had been born with both living parents present and Jenny stared at Sam, then thought about when they were last here; Eric’s birth was so hasty, almost too quick. Jenny’s last child arrived in less than an hour from when her water broke in the kitchen to landing in a doctor’s arms.
Not Dr. Fisher, but Susan Hanover. She had caught Eric just as he emerged squirmy and squalling, eight pounds even, a son Jenny conceived due to an accident.
Tommie wandered Jenny’s way, his weathered face plastered with a grin. “Any news yet?”
She kissed his bad hand, then gripped his good one. “She’s pushing. Mama Traynor’s gonna find out after we do.”
“Well hell, I’ll be long gone by then. Rae’s nearly asleep now.”
They spoke of who waited; the older kids, Jacob and Debbie. The three Cassel kids were
close, along with that new Schumacher girl and her husband. Tommie was surprised David hadn’t followed him to where Sam and Jenny sat. “Probably in the bathroom,” Tommie smiled. “As soon as he sees I’m gone, he’ll be heading this way.”
Sam coughed. “Dana around?”
“Oh yeah, right next to Eric. They’re a handsome couple,” Tommie grinned.
“They are,” Jenny agreed.
Sam only nodded.
Tommie knew his namesake well. As soon as David emerged from the main lobby restroom, finding his uncle gone, he too was down the hall. The rest followed, Rachel and Rae bringing up the rear, women similar in names and natures. Rachel told her aunt that Zack Schumacher was nice, but not quite Rachel’s type. She also confided that she was probably moving to Arkendale after Christmas. Grad school wasn’t for her or Eric, Rachel smiled. All they wanted was to come home.
Rae didn’t fuss, kissing her cheek. That Sam and Jenny had named their daughter for her still sometimes surprised, and the long version seemed to suit Rachel. Rae had never liked it, but on this girl, it was perfect.
They approached an anxious contingent, Smiths, Cassels, and two Sheltons, Lexi’s kids already away. Rae went to her eldest and received a hug. Then Rae stared at Sam and Jenny.
With ease Rae recalled walking this very corridor waiting for Chelsea, but with Will, Rae had a front row seat. She had cut that boy’s umbilical cord, then handed him to his mother. That it was only Will and his wife in the labor room struck Rae as a little odd, but then everyone was different. At least Bethany’s mother wasn’t there.
Rae thought she was superficial and snobby, some East Coaster whose ways weren’t at all inclined to their more relaxed manners. Rae wouldn’t stay long after the new baby emerged. It wasn’t her grandchild, and she had plenty of time to hold that infant once the mother-in-law was gone.
Rae was lucky; Gloria Jamison was a nice woman, and of course Rae loved Debbie. Ricky’s mother had died a few years back; Rae’s kids weren’t saddled with nosy, demanding in-laws. Who knew how the grandkids would fare, but Rae only allowed what fell into her life. She was still that way.
This baby would always be close since Will was home. Half of Jenny and Sam’s kids had returned, and Rachel would be next. Sam seemed more relaxed around Eric, but if he was still fighting that boy come summer, Rae would box Sam’s ears.
At that moment Sam clung to his wife, more like he was holding Jenny upright. Rae had enough cannabutter in the freezer to last the rest of the year; Lexi had helped her make a huge batch right after the barbecue, simmering the butter, water, and weed until Rae was pleased with the results. Usually Lana assisted, but Tanner had just left home and…
Rae stared at her grandson. She loved him just like the rest. Then she gazed at Rachel and Eric. His girlfriend’s name slipped Rae’s mind. Then she glanced at David; they were nearly her grandchildren. Would Rae feel about Will’s baby as she did him, a faint call to a man always missing?
Some left, didn’t come back. Some did, surprising everybody. Rae had assumed Tanner was dead. That he stood near her daughter, having threatened to kill her, Rae didn’t question. Some things were still too deep for her. That was why she missed how scared Dana looked, even through her smile. Instead Rae studied Rachel and David Thomas, one for her, one for Tommie. Eric was all Sam’s boy, Rae smiled, unaware just how true that was.
At nine thirty-three the nurse came through; a girl had arrived, healthy and screaming. Sam and Jenny burst into quick tears. Then they were summoned.
“Are you sure?” Jenny asked.
“Oh yeah, both are dying to share their baby,” the nurse smiled.
“Get going!” Tommie hollered over whoops and shouts.
Jenny moved slowly, but Sam helped her along, disappearing behind the double doors. The rest texted, called, embraced, and cried. It was a girl; Will Cassel had a daughter.
Fifteen minutes later Sam returned, asking for Tommie and Aunt Chelsea. Again faces were amazed, but those two kissed their spouses, Chelsea getting hugs from her siblings. “Give that to the new daddy,” David said.
Chelsea’s face poured tears. “I will!”
They stood at a large basin, washing for a full three minutes before going any further into the ward. Then Chelsea grasped Tommie’s good hand, Sam with a huge grin on his face. Tommie asked questions, but Sam only mumbled that the baby was beautiful, with lots of brown hair.
“What color are her eyes?” Tommie said, as they reached Bethany’s door.
“You’ll see in a minute,” Sam smiled.
Chelsea didn’t care, didn’t even need to hold that child. She would get to see her right after the grandparents. Then it struck her. Her folks had married off their eldest, then gained a descendant. Chelsea couldn’t be more pleased.
Will sat with his wife in his arms, Bethany looking far worse than Chelsea had considered. Then to the left was a rocker, and a grandma. Grandma Jenny, Sam said.
Mother and daughter shared gazes; Jenny’s was a beam of light, and the baby within her arms was placid, fully aware of the second or maybe third best place. Will’s arms were probably better than a grandma’s, but not by much.
Words were exchanged, but Chelsea only heard silence. She would never know this, not in either Bethany’s place or Jenny’s. But she would be an aunt, many times over. At least there was that, Chelsea mused.
Tommie held the baby first. How large a figure Alvin Harris loomed was apparent in the people Will and Bethany first wanted to meet their daughter. A baby named Francesca, Will announced.
“Oh my God, that’s beautiful,” Chelsea sighed, stepping her brother’s way. Their embrace was crushing as she passed along all their siblings’ best wishes.
“Yeah, we’ll get Dave, Rache, and Eric in here, but you two were first.” Will sounded older, past the accident, past baseball. Chelsea stared at him. He looked like the man their natural father might have been, or maybe some cross only attainable due to Sam, who started to giggle.
“What?” Chelsea asked.
“Aren’t you going to ask her whole name?”
Jenny had stood, allowing Tommie the chair. He cuddled the precious bundle in the crook of his bad arm, stroking a sleeping baby along her face.
“Well,” Tommie whispered to the baby. “What else did they name you Miss Francesca?”
“Miss Francesca Louise,” Bethany croaked, staring at Chelsea.
“Oh Jesus Christ!” Chelsea cried.
“Now don’t wake her,” Tommie murmured. “Betsy Louise to Chelsea Louise to Francesca Louise. Alvin would’ve loved it.”
Chelsea started to sob, caught in her father’s arms. She stared at Will over Sam’s shoulder. “Are you kidding me?”
He nodded. “We love you and it’s got a nice ring to it.”
Tommie looked up. “Chelse, come here. You tell me what color eyes she has.”
Sam walked Chelsea to the rocker, where Tommie then handed her the baby. He gave her the seat, Chelsea concentrating on the sweet treasure in her arms.
The baby’s eyelids fluttered, revealing deep blue jewels, Chelsea said, half to herself. “My God, you guys need to have lots of babies, they’re so beautiful!”
What her father had once said about her, but Chelsea didn’t know that. Only Jenny did, some ethereal remnant of Chelsea’s parentage wafting through the room.
By the time Vanessa arrived, all in the waiting room had met Francesca Cassel. Francesca Louise, Chelsea noted, crying in her husband’s arms.
Exhausted from that weekend’s events, Sam and Jenny left after congratulating Will’s mother-in-law. By tomorrow family would be depleted, even with the new arrival. The newlyweds would be flying to Hawaii, Eric and Dana also departing in the morning. David was already behind the wheel, but Emily and Courtney would spell him on their way north.
Rachel would see her new niece once more before heading to Eugene. Her sighs were long and telling, and Jenny had to wonder if she was thinking about quit
ting school.
Jenny said nothing to Sam, who seemed on his own little cloud. He had held Francesca first, another tiny baby still within his heart. With each of their own, Sam had needed those initial minutes, severing a little more ancient anguish. Now with a grandchild, a girl no less, one more pebble of the past was thrown into a rushing stream, that of their life together.
A grandmother felt it too, an odd sense of an infant not directly hers, but from her. That the baby carried her aunt’s middle name had been more than a gesture. And that Tommie had been there to meet Alvin’s granddaughter; Will was more intuitive than Jenny had imagined.
The house was quiet, Rachel already in bed, Eric and Dana too. Jenny smelled hospital, the best part of that place. Then Sam’s arms were around her, his few tears along her cheek. He called her Grandma Jenny, and she giggled, answering with Grandpa Sam.
In their bed they repeated those names. That he was there, holding her, was usually taken for granted, not that she forgot his importance, but that after so many years, it was what ensued. Jenny slept with Sam every night, save that one evening she had fallen asleep on the sofa. That had been over Eric, but from how affectionate Sam was toward that son, maybe his homecoming had been accepted better than Jenny thought.
Then she smiled, feeling her husband’s erection, considerations other than their son or new granddaughter. Then Jenny laughed.
“What?”
“I have a granddaughter. Isn’t that the funniest thing? Yesterday it was a son-in-law, now a granddaughter named Francesca.”
Sam chuckled. “Sort of wild when you think about it.”
“Honey, life really is okay. I mean, MS sucks.” She laughed again. “But the rest is pretty damned good.”
Scooting next to her husband, Jenny found Sam was flaccid. “Honey, what?”
“I’m just tired.”
“Sam?”
“I want Eric to come home.”
“Sam, what is it?”
“Nothing. I just want him and Dana both home.”
“Did he say something to you?” Sam had just allowed this and Jenny wondered if it was Chelsea getting married or the baby. Or had Eric and Sam had one-on-one time, something she had missed in the all the flurry?
“Honey, go to sleep. Lots coming up, baby early and everything.”
That fact had been swept away, but Francesca only weighed a petite six pounds three ounces. She was nineteen inches long, and once Jenny saw her naked in a few days’ time she would note an infant somewhat slender. Not skinny, but three weeks early. Due in middle November, Francesca had arrived not at all close to her father’s birthday.
“Sam, what is it?”
“Nothing Jenny. I love you.”
If she could, she would turn to see his face. Instead she was comfortable, in the physical. But her mind was stirred.
Instead of asking again, Jenny closed her eyes, thinking to that new baby and the joyful faces meeting her. Only as she drifted off did Jenny ponder one pair of eyes particularly clouded by tears. That of Eric’s girlfriend, waiting in the doorway of Bethany’s room.
Chapter 8