Page 40 of Blue-Eyed Jacks
“John.John Edward Nist.John named him James.James Campbell Nist.”
More trivia to bury deep inside should I ever need to dig it up.I labeled that with “Break glass in case of emergency.”
“You’re keeping it, ain’t ya?”
At first, I didn’t move, but I nodded slowly as it sunk in.If I could get angry at Crystal for being sharp with me, I had enough fight in me to see this to my grave.No matter how long it took, this child would know my love, the love of this tight-knit community, and maybe grow up to be… I pondered over that.Would I be the kind of parent who pushed her—wait, him, they, them—face it, I wanted a boy, but knew my life and luck would make it a girl.So, her.Would I push her to be something she didn’t know whether she wanted to be that person, or would I let her discover it on her own?
I never wanted to be the person I’d been.My father pushed me into it.That was quite enough to solidify my plan.She’ddo whatever she wanted, whenshewanted, and get one hundred percent support from me no matter what.
“You’re thinking awful hard over there.”
For that, Crystal got a smile.“Is it better, as a parent, to try to mold a child into what they can be or let them be who they want to be?”
“I’m team let them be who they want.”
“I think I am, too.”
She had to concentrate on the bridge traffic, so she was silent for a minute.That continued as we weaved through the little Main Street of the town at the bridge’s feet.Crystal waved at the mayor.I did, too, sending him a cheery “Hi, Hank” as we passed.He smiled and waved back, leaning a bit forward from his perch outside the local ice cream shop.One day my daughter would hang out there.And maybe Hank would still be mayor.
“Wait til he hits his teen years; you’ll regret that decision.”
“What if it’s a girl?”
“God help us all.A girl with One-Eyed Jack’s blood.Poor kid.She’ll be running this town by age twelve.”
It wasn’t difficult to imagine that.
“It’s a good thing you live right next door to the sheriff.He’ll know where to drop her off when she gets in trouble.”
The sly way Crystal smiled at me was annoying.But the worst part of it was that I could also picture the scenario she conjured up.“Okay, maybe not team freedom.”
“Balance, like nature.Find the right blend of discipline and love and freedom with boundaries; she’ll be fine.”
She.My hand stroked my stomach.
I happily pictured that for a minute or two, but Crystal was too quiet.“What’s wrong with you?”
She stopped outside my house-shack.“Better wait to tell him.Just in case it doesn’t make it.”
Oh.
We sat there, each weighing the risks, choices, life, death, and all that lies in between.“Okay.”
I hopped out of the truck and planned the next remodel.Winter would be here soon.And then… April.
Too soon, it was a capricious, nasty, tricky spring in Maine.Fifty degrees one minute, snowing the next.Icy, sunny, spitting rain and freezing cold, or almost balmy.I’d finished remodeling everything but the living room.In the gut of the bathroom, the bones for a decent kitchen were born, and I had a real tub with hot and cold running water, but still relied on the wood stove in the living room.Which meant keeping the haphazard bookshelves, antique paneling, and ratty carpet until I could find time and energy to rip everything up.
But mostly, I was just too cumbersome to do more than fix the petty stuff within reach.I couldn’t even accompany Crystal to check on the mansions near the lighthouse.Doctor’s orders.Or in this instance, traveling nurse’s orders.I was due any day now, and had been since April 15th.
Zoe, the baby girl in my womb, was alarmingly big, kicking hard, and taking her sweet time in dropping.But last week, everything shifted and changed and now it was a struggle to waddle.Or sit.Or stand.Or pee.Or not pee.
“I hate your father right now,” I told the empty house and the child who wouldn’t understand.But in an odd way, or maybe because Zoe was Zoe, she took that as a cue to kick.
“Good one.Now I have to pee again.”Or change clothes.I stuck my hand between my legs to hold the water in.But there was too much.And a bit of pink.
“Shit.Shit-shit-shit-shit-SHIT.”That wasn’t pee.
My instinct was to call Crystal, but she was at least two miles away on twisty, icy roads.
