Page 87 of The Singing Trees
Annalisa could only imagine how his family was taking the news about going to Portland—especially Emma and Mrs.Barnes, who knew of the engagement. If they knew she was pregnant, it would be even worse.
As his DEROS approached, Annalisa kept her own head down, working as much as her body would allow. She was coming to grips with her new reality, knowing that even if she could get back to painting like before, the next year or two would certainly hamper her career. And yet, not only was she becoming comfortable with the being inside of her, but she’d started feeling excited about what was to come.
She’d climb in bed and talk to her baby and tell him all about the world and how his daddy was coming home soon. She didn’t know the baby would be a boy, but that was what she wanted. As much as men drove her mad, she couldn’t imagine putting a girl out there to fight the same battles she had; it was tough for a woman.
She played him Elvis, Aretha, the Jackson 5, and all the records she’d bought from Recordland since moving here. She told him that their new life would begin on December third, when his dad came home from the war. She told her son that she’d never loved anyone more than she loved Thomas, but she promised her baby that she’d love him just as much.
At Nino’s urging, Annalisa drove up for the Spartans–Eagles game on the second Friday in September. She was now into her sixteenth week but wasn’t showing much at all. A light jacket covered the very tiny bump. Knowing the clock to being a mother was ticking, she wanted to feel young again for just a little while.
After the game, Annalisa walked with Nino back to the parking lot where he had parked his red Ford Mustang, a far cry from the beater of the old days. While she had started her new life in Portland, Nino had taken a job at the mill and was making decent money, considering he was still living with his parents. He had his arm around her and was telling her about his latest ex-girlfriend when Annalisa noticed Emmawith a few friends. She was thrilled to see her away from the grips of her parents.
Annalisa broke away from Nino and caught up with her. “Emma! I’m so happy to see you! I hoped you’d visit me this summer.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Emma said, breaking away from her friends. “Been busy.”
“Well, you have to come to Portland soon,” she said, before thinking that soon her belly would be showing. She added, “Before it gets too cold.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Emma couldn’t have been much more rude.
“Listen,” she said, reaching out to touch the girl’s arm. “I want to find a way for us to work things out. We’re going to be family soon, and I care about you. We’re going to be sisters. I miss you.”
Emma tilted her head and looked down at Annalisa’s hand on her arm. “I have no interest in a relationship with you. Will you just stop?”
Annalisa’s heart hit the ground as she pulled her hand back. “Why would you do this? C’mon, Emma. We had so much fun. Let’s work through this. I want to be friends. Sisters.” She wanted to say that her son would need an aunt, his only one.
For a flash, Annalisa thought Emma might come around, but no, she didn’t. “Please stop bothering me.”
Annalisa sighed, feeling like she’d lost Emma forever. But she said, “I hope one day we can get past it; I’m not going to stop loving you. Take care, Emma.”
She returned to Nino with her head down. “Sorry, that was Thomas’s sister. I don’t know what else to do with her.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “You know, I told you to find someone rich, but damn, cuz...”
She glanced back and saw Emma watching her. “I know; believe me. But you can’t pick who you love, can you?”
“Shoot,” he said, “I love ’em all.”
Fall was here. October 15. With the watermelon now in her belly, Annalisa had moved her entire summer wardrobe into boxes. Not that she could have worn any of it anyway with the extra weight. She’d done her best to stay fashionable as her body changed, but there were the occasional days like today when she’d shaken her head angrily at the mirror, thrown on one of her larger dresses, and gone to work.
Thomas had written only once more, and it had been a brief and unsatisfying letter. She wished she knew more of what he was going through. Was he safe? As excited as she was about his return, she was worried too. The explosion and misfiring of hormones weren’t helping at all. Annalisa’s letters to him were brief, too, so she totally understood. It was all lies anyway, her not telling him about the baby, him not speaking of the war. Maybe she should have told him but felt like it was too late now. Surely, he wouldn’t be that upset. She had her reasons, namely that she didn’t want to throw anything more on the plate of a soldier who was trying to survive the last months of his tour.
It was all good, she kept telling herself. She was doing what she had to do—painting as best and as much as she could while taking care of their baby and her body—and he was doing what he had to do, which was make it out alive. Only two more months and she could surprise him with the news that he was getting what he wanted after all, not only her but a child as well.
“How many days until he comes home?” Walt asked from his desk as Annalisa said goodbye for the day.
She didn’t need to look at the calendar to answer. “Forty-eight.”
“Forty-eight days,” Walt echoed. “That’ll go by in a flash.”
“I hope so. Can I do anything else before I go put my feet up?” Her brain was fried from looking at numbers all day with their new employee. The business of pregnancy was not for the faint of heart.Though she was still dragging herself to art classes, focusing on the lessons was increasingly more difficult.
“No, no,” he said. “Go take care of yourself.”
“I’m bringing you dinner down later, okay?”
He removed his glasses. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I think I do,” she insisted. “You keep coming in here skinnier and skinnier. You’ll vanish if I don’t look out for you.” With a particularly decisive shrug, she said firmly, “I’m not asking. Listen for a knock around seven. I’m making sausage and peppers.”
