Читать книгу Eleven Hours - Paullina Simons - Страница 7

Didi Wood was walking to the mall from her car when her pregnant belly began to tighten until it felt like a taut basketball. She winced through her discomfort and slowed down to a near halt; this contraction was particularly strong. She leaned against a minivan, rubbing her belly with one hand as she wiped her forehead with the other. Maybe she shouldn’t go to the mall. But she had promised Amanda new alphabet blocks a few days ago, and she wanted to keep her promise. Also, she needed new face cream.

Didi thought it was a good day for the air-conditioned comfort shopping provided. Dallas was having a brief heat spell. It was called summer. She contemplated driving to Rich’s office and spending the hour before their lunch date relaxing on his small sofa, but decided to stay. She’d be all right. It was only an hour.

She couldn’t wait to get inside the mall. When she had left the house earlier for her doctor’s appointment, the temperature had already been in the high nineties. A radio bulletin had informed her there was a heat advisory on – for old ladies, for small children, and for women in Didi’s delicate condition.

Perspiring and uncomfortable, she waddled into NorthPark.

Estée Lauder had something for her at Dillard’s. The last thing Didi needed was more cosmetics, but who was she to refuse a little gift from a big department store? She was offered moisture-rich black mascara, two lipsticks whose shades she didn’t particularly like, a perfume sampler, a pocket brush, some hand cream, and a makeup bag. It was the makeup bag she wanted.

The gift was free – with a $17.50 purchase.

Didi thought it was uncanny the way Estée Lauder never priced her products at $17.50. Oh, there was plenty for $15, all kinds of lipsticks and eyeliners and mascaras. And there was plenty for $30, $50, and $72. Nothing actually for $17.50.

To get the free gift, Didi spent $108.75 – plus tax. She bought a jar of Fruition face cream, a rose lipstick for spring, even though it was July, and a teal eye pencil for her brown eyes. While she was waiting to pay, Didi felt the Belly tighten again. She grasped the counter.

‘Oh,’ the girl behind the counter said. ‘Not long now?’

Didi managed to nod.

‘When are you due?’

The contraction passed, and Didi looked at her watch. ‘In about two hours,’ she said lightly.

After seeing the frightened expression on the salesgirl’s pretty face, Didi said, ‘Just kidding. I guess you don’t have any kids – two weeks.’

The salesgirl breathed a short sigh of relief and smiled. ‘Whew,’ she said. ‘You’re right, I don’t have any kids. Not yet, anyway.’ Then, with a little nervous laugh, she asked. ‘You’re not in labor, are you?’

‘No, no,’ Didi said, outwardly smiling but inwardly fretting, wishing the girl would hurry with her receipt. She wanted to get to FAO Schwarz. She added, ‘I’m having these little fake contractions. Braxton Hicks, they’re called. They’re a pain, but they’re not the real thing. Believe me, they’re nothing like the real thing.’

The girl giggled. ‘Oh, gosh, I’m never having kids. It’s just all so scary, the labor, the pregnancy.’ The girl handed Didi the receipt.

‘It’s not too bad,’ Didi said, signing her name. ‘It’s really not too bad at all. You forget right away.’

‘Bet you don’t,’ said the girl.

‘No you do,’ said Didi. ‘You have to. Otherwise we’d never have more than one baby.’

‘I guess you’re right,’ said the girl, looking at Didi’s face. ‘Your skin is so nice. Do you use any foundation?’

Didi pushed the signed receipt toward the girl and reached for her makeup, which the girl wasn’t giving her. ‘I’m done here. Thanks anyway. Can I have my stuff, please?’

‘Oh, sure, sure,’ said the girl, handing her the bag. ‘Well, good luck.’

Didi smiled. ‘Have a nice day.’

In FAO Schwarz, the matronly woman behind the counter complimented Didi on her sleeveless yellow sundress. ‘Banana Republic,’ replied Didi.

‘Oh, I didn’t know they did maternity,’ said the saleswoman.

‘They don’t,’ Didi said. ‘It’s an extra large.’ She hated saying ‘extra large,’ but she didn’t like being ashamed of her size either. The woman handed her the bags and said, ‘Are you going to be okay with these? They’re kind of heavy.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ said Didi. ‘I only have a few more stops to make.’

She was glad NorthPark wasn’t as busy as it was on Saturdays. She didn’t like to push through crowds with her bags and the Belly.

In Coach, Didi bought herself a new leather purse. It was brown, medium-sized, and on sale for $60, down from $120. With the $60 saved, she bought herself a wallet.

‘When are you due?’ asked the lady helping her.

‘Two weeks,’ replied Didi, holding on to the Belly. She needed to sit. Gravity was pulling the baby down. Didi needed him or her to stay inside for a few more weeks. She and Rich were planning an escape to Lake Texoma in Oklahoma the following weekend.

‘Do you know what it’s going to be?’

Didi shook her head. ‘We want to be surprised,’ she said.

‘That’s nice,’ said the lady. ‘I couldn’t do that. I wanted to know with my two kids. I have two boys.’

Didi smiled, signing the American Express receipt. ‘That’s nice. We have two girls. Do you like having two boys?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said the lady. Before Didi had a chance to reply, the woman said, ‘They’re a handful. But I wanted to try again for a girl. My husband said no more. What if we continue having boys for ten years? Two’s plenty, he said. Who am I to argue, right? He pays the bills. I only work to make myself a little extra for the holidays, you know?’

Didi smiled and nodded knowingly. ‘We would like a boy,’ she admitted. ‘But it doesn’t matter. Boy or girl, we’re done after this one.’

‘I hear you, sister,’ said the saleslady.

Didi laughed. ‘I’m sure your boys must be wonderful,’ she said.

‘Oh, no, they’re terrors,’ said the lady. ‘Five and seven. Absolute terrors.’

As she walked out of Coach, Didi smelled something sweet and delicious. She looked at her watch. 12.20. Lunch with Richie in forty minutes. She remembered their fight last night and sighed. No. She was meeting Rich in forty minutes, but that didn’t mean she would be eating in forty minutes because there would be more arguing, recriminations, and apologies before food was ordered and served. Didi thought it could be as long as an hour and a half before she saw actual food. That was just too long to wait. She had a hankering for something now, something that didn’t include bickering. A sweet pretzel would do nicely.

Didi headed for the Freshens Yogurt stand, which also sold pretzels. She knew she had only two speeds – slow and very slow. Weighed down with thirty pounds of baby and baby nesting plus Dillard’s, FAO Schwarz, and Coach shopping bags in her hands, she felt as if she were moving only through inertia, which dictated that bodies in motion stay in motion. She wished she were a body at rest.

‘Could I have an almond pretzel, please?’ Didi asked the teenage boy behind the counter. The words came out softly between short breaths.

‘Sure. Would you like any topping on it?’ he asked her.

‘No, thank you. Just a pretzel.’ A second later, she said, ‘Make that two. And some water, please.’

‘One pretzel for you, one for the baby,’ a voice next to her said. She turned her head to the right and found herself face to face with a young man. He had a wide friendly smile on his face. She smiled back, but – something in his face thinned her own smile. A small pit opened up inside her stomach. The feeling reminded her of high school days when she’d meet someone cute and her heart would fall a foot in her chest.

The falling didn’t come because he was cute, and her heart didn’t skip because she was excited. Her heart skipped because the man was looking at her with a warm smile of familiarity, with the smile of someone who’d known her for ages. Didi was sure she’d never met him.

There was something else odd about him, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Reluctantly, she acknowledged him. ‘No, actually. One for me, one for my husband. The baby eats plenty as it is.’

‘Yeah, those babies can get mighty hungry,’ he said. ‘My wife had a baby boy a little while ago.’

‘That’s nice,’ she said, turning away from him. ‘Congratulations.’

‘Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?’ asked the guy behind the counter, handing Didi a white paper bag with two pretzels in it.

‘No. It doesn’t really matter,’ Didi said evasively.

‘Oh, you say it doesn’t matter,’ the friendly man beside her said. ‘But you know it matters a lot. We all want what we want.’

‘No, really,’ Didi said, wishing he would stop talking to her. ‘As long as the baby’s healthy.’ She studied him briefly. He was somewhere in his late twenties, clean-shaven, neatly dressed, thin, and of medium height. His light brown hair was carefully trimmed above his ears. He had blue or green eyes; Didi couldn’t be sure in the artificial light of the mall and didn’t want to look at him that closely. Underneath his navy nylon jacket he wore a white shirt. He wasn’t bad-looking.

‘Bet your husband wants a boy, though,’ the man said.

He doesn’t know I have a husband, Didi thought, and then remembered mentioning that one of the pretzels was for her husband. She was instantly upset with herself. Why am I being unkind to him? she thought. I’m being unkind and unchristian.

‘Bet your husband wants a boy, though,’ the man repeated evenly.

‘If he does, he isn’t telling,’ Didi said quickly. She took out three dollars and paid for the pretzels.

Taking a gulp of water, she gave the cup back to the salesclerk to throw out. She didn’t have a free hand to carry a drink. Throwing the change inside her purse, Didi said in a friendly voice, ‘Well, have a nice day.’

‘Yeah, you too,’ said the guy behind the counter.

The man followed her as she walked away from the store. Didi tried to speed up but realized it was impossible. He came up beside her and said, ‘Hey. Do you need help with those bags? They look so heavy.’

Didi tried to speed up again. Did she look as if she was languishing? ‘They’re fine, not too bad at all,’ she said. ‘But thanks. Have a nice day, okay?’

‘You sure? I don’t mind helping. Don’t have much to do right now. Really.’

She tried not to look at him. A troubled feeling settled on her heart – no, she thought, she was being silly.

She saw a Warner Bros store. ‘Really, I’m fine,’ she said, moving away from him. ‘Thanks anyway.’

She walked into the store without looking back, but the heaviness didn’t leave her chest.

Didi went toward the children’s section and looked around, putting down her bags and taking a few bites of the pretzel.

Suddenly she was no longer hungry and had lost her desire to shop. Deciding to call Rich, Didi pulled the cell phone out of her handbag. The cell phone was defective, with the number seven missing because little Reenie had eaten it on one of their weekend trips to Lake Texoma. It was time to get a new one.

What was odd about that man aside from his open smile? He acted as if he knew her, but that wasn’t what was odd. Something else. She wanted to cross herself. What’s the matter with you, Didi? she whispered, intently studying the plush Tasmanian Devils. Why are you being so uncharitable? He was just trying to help.

Her husband wasn’t picking up. What else was new? His message machine answered. ‘It’s just me,’ Didi said after the beep. ‘Calling from the mall, hoping I could meet you a little earlier.’ She paused and thought about turning around. ‘It’s okay. I’ll see you at one, I guess. Bye.’

She picked out a couple of T-shirts for her girls and turned to walk to the cash register. She saw him immediately. He was near the Tweety Bird clocks. He appeared to have forgotten her completely.

At the register, Didi took out cash to speed the transaction.

‘Linda, look!’ the salesgirl exclaimed to another salesgirl. Then to Didi, ‘Wow, you’re really pregnant.’

‘Yeah,’ said Didi, smiling as kindly as she could. ‘I’m also in a real hurry, so…’ She slid two twenties across the counter, but the money didn’t impress the salesgirls.

‘When are you due?’ Linda asked, looking warmly at her.

‘Just a few weeks,’ Didi said, chewing her lip. The salesgirl scanned the T-shirt tags with near-deliberate slowness. Didi thought of walking out, but she didn’t want the man to think she was nervous or in a hurry. She wanted him to think she had forgotten him completely, too.

‘Do you know what you’re having?’ asked Linda.

‘No, I have no idea,’ said Didi.

‘Don’t want to know?’

‘No, not really.’ Didi started tapping her fingernails on the counter. The nails were short, and the tapping wasn’t satisfying.

‘Oh, I’d want to know,’ Linda said.

Didi pushed the twenties so far to the edge of the counter that they fell to the floor. The salesgirl said, ‘Oh, look – your money.’ And for some reason she found the falling cash amusing and laughed. Linda chuckled with her. Didi tried to smile.

Suddenly, Didi sensed someone standing behind her and felt afraid.

She willed herself to turn around. An elderly gray-haired man in a suit nodded politely to her. The man in the jacket was still near Tweety Bird. Didi felt both relieved and silly.

Linda moved to help the elderly man, while Didi’s salesgirl looked for a bag for the T-shirts. ‘The total came to twenty-eight seventeen,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Did you only give me a twenty?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Didi said. ‘Two twenties fell on the floor. Listen, if it’s too much trouble –’

‘No, no, of course, two twenties.’ The girl bent down, picking up the money. She keyed forty dollars into the register. ‘Your change is eleven eighty-three,’ she said, taking the money out of the drawer. ‘That’s twenty-nine –’ giving Didi the change, and then counting the paper money – ‘thirty, and two fives makes forty.’

Didi could not help snatching the money. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Have a nice day.’

‘Yeah, you too,’ said the girl, and yelled after her, ‘Good luck with the labor and everything!’

Didi cringed.

After she walked out of Warner Bros, she wasn’t sure what to do next. She glanced back. He wasn’t there anymore.

Should she go to her car? Yes, yes, she should. No, wait. She wanted to make a quick stop at Victoria’s Secret.

She looked over her shoulder to see if he was following her. This is ridiculous, Didi thought. He seemed a perfectly nice man.

A few days earlier she and her girlfriend Penny had been at the Collin Creek Mall when a man who looked a little like this one offered to take Didi’s bags to the car. He didn’t even offer. He just picked up the bags and carried them, saying, ‘Let me help you with these.’ Didi thanked him, got in the car, and went to the movies with Penny. It had been raining, and Penny commented what a nice man he had been to help them.

Didi felt better with this recollection as she walked into Victoria’s Secret.

‘Hi, can I help you?’ An attractive thin girl walked toward her. Didi always noticed the thinness of other women when she was pregnant. Especially in a place like this. It made her feel self-conscious to ask for a negligee or underwear in extra large. The girls always went to the back of the store for that. Sometimes they loudly delegated the task to someone else. ‘Janice, can you go and check if we have an extra large in the red satin underwear, please?’

Glad to see there was no one in the store this afternoon, Didi asked for something silky and sexy for the hospital.

‘I have just the thing for you,’ said the salesgirl. ‘When are you due?’

‘Monday,’ said Didi.

‘As in today, Monday?’ The girl’s eyes opened wide.

‘Maybe not today,’ Didi said pleasantly. ‘But I’m hoping to have my baby on a Monday.’

‘Is Monday your lucky day or something?’

Nodding, Didi said, ‘It is my lucky day, I guess. I was born on a Monday. My second daughter was born on a Monday, and it was a pretty easy delivery, so that was lucky. Much easier than the first, which was on a Saturday.’

‘Maybe the easy labor was because she was second and all,’ the salesgirl said.

‘You’re right,’ said Didi. ‘But it’s still my lucky day.’

‘Well, let’s pray it’s not today,’ said the salesgirl. ‘Let me show you what I’ve got for you.’ She had pretty red hair. Didi wondered if it was her natural color. Didi was proud of the fact that she had never colored or highlighted her own brown hair. She also didn’t wear much makeup, though she bought plenty. Didi thought of herself as a person comfortable in her own skin. The salesgirl must have seen Didi looking at her hair, because she smiled and, touching it, said, ‘Best color money can buy. Do you like it?’

Smiling and secretly pleased, Didi said, ‘Love it. It looks very natural.’

‘I like yours,’ the salesgirl said. ‘Tell me, is it difficult keeping it that long in this heat and with being pregnant and all?’

Touching her hair, Didi replied, ‘It’s not too bad. It’s naturally straight, so I don’t do much to it. But I can never cut it. My husband loves it long.’

The girl found Didi a burgundy silk robe with a matching negligee, panties, and bra. The ensemble looked great on Didi, although the negligee was too small. It was the largest size in stock, and Didi had to hope that the Belly would not stay enormous forever.

‘I’ll take it,’ she said, walking out of the fitting room. From inside the store, she peered into the mall. Her heart beat faster when she thought she saw the back of the man. The person sitting on the bench was obscured by tall, leafy corn plants; it was hard to tell if it was he. She turned to the cash register.

‘I’m sorry. What did you ask?’ Didi said absentmindedly.

‘Do you know what you’re having?’

Didi smiled. ‘We’re hoping for a boy,’ she confessed. ‘But we don’t know.’

‘Hey, you got a fifty-fifty chance, right?’

‘Not according to my husband,’ said Didi easily. ‘He’s been wearing his red socks for weeks. He thinks that improves our chances to seventy-five-twenty-five.’

‘Red socks?’ The salesgirl looked at her as if Didi were crazy.

‘Hey, I’m not the crazy one,’ said Didi. ‘The same ones he wears when the Cowboys play. They won the Super Bowl once when he was wearing red socks and now he wears them every Sunday. I don’t think he’s ever let me wash them since then.’

‘Oh, dear,’ said the salesgirl, handing her a receipt to sign. ‘I hope you don’t sit next to your husband on Sundays.’

‘I’m a football widow,’ said Didi, but it wasn’t true. It just sounded funny, though she wished she hadn’t said it. She loved football. She and Rich watched the games together when they could. It was true about the red socks. Rich believed in the socks even when the Cowboys lost. ‘Think how much they’d lose by if I wasn’t wearing them,’ he’d say when Didi called the socks’ dubious charm into question. Didi had no response to Rich’s perverse logic.

‘Good luck,’ said the salesgirl, tossing her red hair. ‘I hope you have your boy, and I hope your labor will be easy.’

‘Thanks.’ Didi smiled. ‘Have a nice day.’

‘Hey, and stay inside,’ the girl called after her. ‘It’s brutal out there.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Didi said.

She walked out of the store and looked at her watch. Five to one. It was time to meet Rich. With luck she’d be only ten minutes late, but probably more like fifteen. She looked up and down the mall. Just a few shoppers. God forgive me, is everyone this paranoid at near term? Didi thought. Wait till I tell Richie.

Laden with bags, she walked back to Dillard’s, made a left at the Freshens stand and then a right, and walked out the mall doors. Outside was unbearable. The sun whipped her with heat. After taking a dozen steps, Didi was light-headed. She hoped she could make it to the car and not faint.

Putting her bags down on the concrete, she looked around, wondering where her Town & Country was parked. Slowly she took the pretzel bag out of one of the larger shopping bags, reached into it, and broke off a piece of a pretzel. She chewed and swallowed it. Looking at her watch, she saw it was already ten past one and tried to hurry. She picked up three bags with one hand, three bags with the other, and with her purse on her shoulder and the pretzel bag between her fingers headed up one aisle, swaying from side to side. Did she have to get those wooden blocks at FAO Schwarz? She struggled with the bags, setting them down again and wiping her forehead, wishing her hair were up in a bun.

Didi walked a few more feet but couldn’t see the minivan anywhere. She put her bags down, sighed as loudly as possible to make herself feel better, and rummaged through her purse. She found her key chain and hit the alarm button to get her car to make its noise, but the alarm did not go off. Instead she heard the dull click of a door lock opening, and looked to her right to see her white van. She had pressed the wrong button. Thank God.

Relieved, Didi dropped the keys back in her purse and bent down to pick up her bags.

A voice behind her said, ‘You know, you really shouldn’t be carrying those heavy bags. It’s bad for the baby.’