CHAPTER 30
Allison didn’t know for certain how long she’d been asleep. It was still dark when she heard footsteps in the hall and on the stairs, doors opening and closing. Light showed beneath her bedroom door, punctuated by moving shadows as people walked to and fro. She sat up, wondering what was happening. A moment later she heard Margot’s deep, calm voice, and Cousin Dick answering her. Someone groaned, a sound that seemed louder because of the strange hour.
Ramona! The baby!
She scrambled out of bed and seized her dressing gown from its hook. She found her slippers with difficulty, one buried deep under the bed and the other tossed under her dressing table, and she opened her door to listen.
Downstairs, Cousin Dick was speaking on the hall telephone. From Ramona’s bedroom, she heard Margot and Ramona talking in normal voices, as if the groan of a few minutes before hadn’t happened. From the other big bedroom, where Uncle Dickson and Aunt Edith slept, there was no sound, but below stairs, she heard the muted bang of the kitchen door, and knew that someone had roused Blake.
Allison moved tentatively to the door of Ramona’s bedroom. She had never actually been in it, but she could see the end of a big bed with a dark comforter on it, and catch a glimpse of Margot’s back as she bent forward. Allison rapped gently on the open door. “Cousin Ramona? Cousin Margot? Is there anything I can do?”
Margot straightened and beckoned to her. “Oh, yes, come in, Allison. You can sit with Ramona while I go and get dressed. Her labor’s started, but it’s going to be some time yet before baby comes.” She did something with her hands, and Allison realized she had been wearing surgical gloves, which she was now stripping off. “I’ll be right back.”
Ramona, in a nest of pillows, smiled a bit palely at Allison, and patted the bed beside her. “Do come sit with me, Allison. I’ve just had a few pains, and Margot says I’m in for a bit of a wait.”
“Did it—do they hurt a lot?” Allison said, sinking down beside Ramona.
“Yes!” Ramona said, on a ghost of a laugh. “Yes, they hurt, but I keep thinking how much I want the baby, and . . .” She winced and pressed her lips together. Color rose in her face and receded almost as quickly, and the same groan Allison had heard earlier came from her, a deep sound she wouldn’t have thought Ramona, so delicate and feminine, could produce. A moment later the pain seemed to pass. Ramona breathed a sigh and lay back on her pillows.
Allison tried to imagine her mother going through this, riding a pain like that without crying out or screaming or weeping, but she couldn’t do it. She took Ramona’s hand in hers, not knowing what else to do. “You’re so brave,” she whispered.
“Oh, no,” Ramona said. “Not brave at all. I’m really frightened, Allison. But this is what women do, isn’t it? Everyone else has done it, and I can, too.” She closed her eyes and breathed carefully in, then out. “Whew. This is going to be hard work.”
“Is Dr. Creedy coming?”
“He’s busy with an emergency at the hospital. And in the meantime, I have Margot. Thank goodness.”
“Oh, yes. I think Margot must be the best doctor in the whole city!”
She knew Ramona had chosen to have her baby at home, in Benedict Hall, instead of going to the hospital. Margot thought it was a good idea, as long as there were no complications—whatever those might be—and apparently Dr. Creedy didn’t mind, either. Ramona had confided to Allison that she didn’t want to have her baby at the hospital because she had heard so many stories of babies getting mixed up. Allison didn’t think that sounded right, but she didn’t say anything. She wanted Ramona—all of them—to trust her. Instead, wondering about the issue, she had gone to Hattie.
She had fallen into the habit of taking all her embarrassing questions to Hattie. When her monthlies reappeared, she asked Hattie where to get supplies, and Hattie accompanied her to Bartell’s on the streetcar so she could buy Lister’s Towels. When she wanted to get rid of the plaid frock and two others that had always been too tight, she asked Hattie if she knew of someone who could use them. Hattie took them from her, and said she would take them to the jumble sale at the church. When she was trying to understand the Women and Infants Clinic, it was Hattie who explained that Cousin Margot and that pretty Sarah Church were teaching poor women how not to have babies, and when Allison frowned and asked how you could do that, Hattie explained it to her in succinct and specific terms. Allison had blushed hotly, over and over, but she didn’t mind that too much in front of Hattie. She tried not to think about Cousin Margot and Major Parrish on their honeymoon, and what that must be like, but sometimes it bothered her. Hattie only patted her shoulder and said not to worry, that when it was her time and she met a man she really loved, it would all sort itself out.
To the question of babies getting mixed up in the hospital, Hattie only chuckled and shook her head. “There are lots of good reasons to have babies at home, though,” she said. “It helps that we’re here to take care of Mrs. Ramona when her time comes.”
And now, here it was. Here was Cousin Ramona, about to give birth. It was exciting, and it was scary. And it must be messy, because Margot brought in a basin and a stack of clean towels and an enormous sheet she spread over the bed, tucking it under Ramona and covering the pillows. She also had her medical bag, but when she saw Ramona looking at it, she said, “Just a precaution, Ramona. You’re doing beautifully, and baby’s head is down, just as we want it. Everything looks perfect.”
Much better than being in a hospital, Allison was sure. Hospitals were so cold and noisy and impersonal. Here, in Ramona’s pretty bedroom with its thick velvet curtains and family pictures arranged on the bureau, surely here she could concentrate on what she needed to do.
When the next pain came, Ramona scowled, closed her eyes, and emitted that deep groan again. She gripped Allison’s hand, and Allison gripped back, breathing and scowling just as Ramona did. When the pain passed, Ramona sighed and asked for water. Allison looked a question at Margot, who nodded. “Just a sip,” she said. “We don’t want anything extra in there with baby just now.”
Allison went down to breakfast at Margot’s urging. She found everyone at the table. Uncle Dickson was reading his paper, as usual, though he looked up anxiously when Allison came in. Aunt Edith was nibbling at her breakfast and looking as if she wasn’t quite sure what was happening. Frank was just finishing his coffee, but Dick was pushing with his fork at the stack of griddle cakes on his plate, and it didn’t look as if he had eaten anything. He jumped when Allison appeared, as if he was ready to fly up the stairs at a moment’s notice.
Allison sat down next to him, in Ramona’s usual chair, and Thelma set a plate in front of her while Loena poured her coffee. When the servants had left the room, Allison said, “Don’t worry, Cousin Dick. Margot says Ramona’s doing fine.”
Uncle Dickson said, “Good, good. I’m glad you’re lending a hand, Allison. Good girl.”
“It’s just taking so long!” Dick groaned. He gave up pretending to eat his breakfast, laying down his fork and slumping in his chair. “Should it take so long?”
Aunt Edith said, “What, dear? Do you need more coffee?”
“Mother!” Dick exclaimed.
Allison said, “Aunt Edith, Cousin Ramona is having her baby. It started last night.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Edith said and put a bite of griddle cake in her mouth.
Frank wrinkled his nose at Allison and gave a slight shrug, but Dick blew out an anxious breath and rubbed his forehead with his palm.
Uncle Dickson folded his paper and laid it beside his plate. “You were a long time coming, too, Dick,” he said. He smiled at his eldest son, and Allison felt a twinge of envy at the affection between them. Uncle Dickson went on, “I walked the floor for hours, waiting to hear something from upstairs.” He pointed at the ceiling. “Right up there, they were, in our bedroom, your mother, her maid, and the doctor. I thought I’d go mad with worry, and in the middle of everything the doctor came down and ate a leisurely luncheon as if nothing at all were happening. I still remember,” he added with a laugh, “that ham sandwich he was having. For months afterward I couldn’t look at a ham sandwich!”
“Margot says she’ll stay with Cousin Ramona until Dr. Creedy comes,” Allison offered.
“Why isn’t he here now?” Dick demanded. Allison had never heard him sound so querulous. It made her feel very grown-up and important that she was sitting with Cousin Ramona when her own husband wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near her. She had thought the whole thing would be upsetting, but it seemed marvelous instead, an important task, a life-changing event, and it was all being handled by women.
She said, “Cousin Margot spoke to Dr. Creedy on the telephone. He has to do a surgery, evidently, but Margot said she would stay.” She unfolded her napkin and said with pride, “Margot and I have been with Cousin Ramona all night.”
Frank nodded appreciation of this.
Uncle Dickson said, “Very good, my dear. I’m sure you’re a great help.” He pushed back his chair and stood up. “I’ll be off, Dick. Telephone me when you have some news.”
Allison was just coming out of the dining room when she heard Margot, from the head of the stairs, calling her name. She drew a swift breath and dashed up the staircase. “Is everything all right?” she whispered when she reached the second floor. “Is Ramona—?”
Margot was just pulling on a pair of fresh surgical gloves, and Allison saw that her dress was spattered with water, as if she had been washing her hands. “We’re going to have a baby soon,” she said, without alarm. “I don’t think Ramona is waiting for Dr. Creedy.”
“Oh! Oh!” Allison cried. She started toward the bedroom, then stopped. “What—what do I do?”
“You don’t have to help,” Margot said, snapping the gloves down over her forearms. “But if you think you’ll be all right, it would be nice for Ramona to have you there.”
“I’ll be all right,” Allison said, and though her nerves quivered at the mystery of what was to come, she was certain it was true. If Ramona could do this, and Margot could help her, how could she do any less?
“Go and let Hattie know first, will you, please? Hattie will know what we need.”
Allison did as she asked, hurrying down the staircase once more to knock on the kitchen door. “Hattie,” she said breathlessly, “Cousin Margot says the baby is coming!”
“Oh, my Lord,” Hattie exclaimed. She tossed the dish towel she was holding over the edge of the sink. “Leona, Loena, you’ll do these dishes and clear the dining room. I’m going to collect a few things and go on up to Mrs. Ramona.”
Allison flew back up the stairs and met Margot in the hall. “We’re here,” she said breathlessly. “That is, Hattie’s on her way. I’m here.”
“Excellent,” Margot said, with a calm that amazed Allison. Her own heart was beating like a drum in her chest, and her hands trembled with nerves. Margot said, “Now, Allison, we still have some time. Just remember, if you feel faint, move away from the bed. Get to a chair, or—” She smiled to soften her words. “Or just faint on the floor! We’ll pick you up, but we don’t want you toppling over onto Ramona.”
Allison said, with confidence, “Oh, I won’t feel faint. I promise.” She hurried to the head of the bed, where Ramona lay panting and perspiring. “Cousin Ramona, I’m right here! Give me your hand, and squeeze all you like. We’re going to have a baby!”
Just as Margot had said, there was some time to go. Ramona alternated between drowsing and mumbling words that didn’t always make sense, but which Allison and Hattie answered just the same. When the pains came, Ramona came fully alert, her eyes narrowed, her face contorting and her breathing fast and shallow. She often made the deep groan Allison had first noticed, but when the pain passed, she relaxed, exhaling, closing her eyes while Allison bathed her forehead with a water and vinegar solution Hattie had prepared.
Near lunchtime, Margot went down to the dining room, leaving Allison and Hattie to keep Ramona company. When Margot returned, she sent Hattie down. “Leona’s doing very well with ham-and-cheese sandwiches, Hattie, so you go and have some. Allison, you, too. I’ll be with Ramona.”
“I don’t want to leave,” Allison said. “In case the baby comes while I’m not here!”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Margot said.
Ramona whispered, “I’m ready now!”
Margot chuckled and patted her thigh. She examined her again and said, “Soon, now, Ramona. I know you’re getting tired, but you’re doing very well. It won’t be much longer.” She waved Allison out, indicating ten minutes with her raised fingers. Allison gave Ramona’s hand a last pat and hurried down the staircase.
She found Dick there. He jumped to his feet when he saw her, and she gave him her best reassuring smile. “Cousin Margot says everything’s going well, Cousin Dick. It will happen soon, she says.”
“Thank God,” he muttered. He looked haggard, his cheeks flushed but his lips pinched at the corners.
Allison considered him, her head tipped to one side. “I think Cousin Ramona looks better than you do just now,” she said.
He rewarded her with a laugh. “It’s so hard just waiting,” he said. He was at the table, a half-eaten sandwich on a plate in front of him. “If only there was something I could do.”
“Why not go out and buy some flowers?” Allison suggested. “Cousin Ramona would love that, once the baby is here.”
Dick said, “Allison, that’s a damned good idea,” and was gone from the dining room almost before she realized she had given an adult her advice, and he had actually taken it.
She was just finishing her own sandwich when Hattie came in. “Miss Allison, Miss Margot wants you.” In a good imitation of Dick’s speedy retreat, Allison was up from the table and dashing up the stairs almost before Hattie finished speaking.
She came into the bedroom to find Margot with her head bent and both hands on Ramona’s belly. She glanced up when Allison came in. Her expression was intent, but calm. “Oh, Allison. Good. Come sit at Ramona’s head, will you? Her pains are coming quite close together now, and she’s fully effaced. Just give her something to hold on to, your hands, your arms, whatever works best.”
Another pain came, and Ramona groaned, much louder now. Allison, as she reached for her, was glad Dick had gone out. She could see that it was part of labor, but if he was pacing the hall below, listening, he might find the sound upsetting. Ramona gripped her forearms as the pain shook her, then lay back with a little gasp.
Margot said, her voice slightly lower this time, “The baby crowned with that contraction and with the last one, too. If we don’t make progress with the next, I may ask for your help, Allison. Can you do that?”
Allison swallowed. “Of course,” she said, and though her heart skipped a beat, she thought her voice sounded assured. Calm, like Margot’s.
“Good,” Margot said. She put up one forefinger and watched as another of the deep, hard pains shook Ramona’s body. Ramona grunted now, pushing, her eyes squeezing tight and her lips pulling back over her teeth in a sort of animal grimace, one Allison could see was completely involuntary.
When the pain passed, Margot nodded. “Yes,” she said. “We’ll need a bit of help, Allison. Here, let me show you.”
Ramona said in a breathless whisper, “Is everything all right? Is my baby all right?”
“Everything’s going to be fine, Ramona. Allison and I are just going to help the baby on its way. Take a deep breath now. Get ready for the next one.”
Ramona breathed, while Margot took Allison’s two hands and arranged them, one over the other, low on Ramona’s swollen belly. “When I tell you, Allison, you push with the heels of your hands, right here.” Allison’s hands trembled, but she kept them where they were. Ramona’s body was hot to the touch, and the whole room seemed overheated, charged with energy and effort. Margot said, very quietly, “Baby’s shoulder is catching on the pubic bone, here. We’re going to help it bend, so it can slide past. When the next contraction comes—yes, here it is. Now, Allison, gently, but firmly.”
Allison thought if her eyes stretched any wider they’d come right out of her head, but she did precisely what Margot said. She braced her hands, one on top of the other, and at the peak of the contraction, in the midst of Ramona’s long, agonized groan, she pressed down.
Nothing happened, at least nothing that she could see. Margot, who now had long silvery-looking forceps in her hand, said, “There’s the crown. Allison. Can you press a little harder? Don’t be too shy. Straight down, both hands. Ramona, keep pushing.”
To Allison, the moment seemed to go on forever. Ramona stopped grunting, but Allison was pretty sure it was because she was out of breath. Her muscles still flexed and strained beneath her hands. It was odd, to be pushing on Ramona’s body when she was already working so hard, but Margot encouraged her.
“Keep it up, Allison. Straight down, with both of your hands. You’re going to free up that little shoulder, just flex it enough so it can get past the bone.”
“Like this? I’m not hurting Ramona?”
“No, you’re not hurting her. You’re helping—oh, good. Excellent. We just need a moment more. . . . Oh, good work!”
It was the most awe-inspiring sensation Allison had ever experienced in her life. Beneath her palms, even through skin and bone, she could feel the shape of the tiny body. She felt the soft shoulder bend, and then there was a sudden, smooth slippage as the baby moved. There was a quiet rushing sound, as of a distant waterfall. Ramona cried out, not in pain, but in relief. Margot made no sound, but Allison, looking up at her, saw the curve of her lips, the satisfied expression in her eyes. A moment later, while Ramona sobbed and Allison caught her hands in hers, Margot held up the baby, red and wet and glistening. Safe and sound.
The infant took a breath and began to wail.
Margot stripped off her gloves and bundled them into the basket Hattie had brought up, along with the stained sheets and towels. Hattie was remaking the bed around Ramona, who sat up in a nest of fresh pillows, her brand-new infant, wrapped in a new, puffy receiving blanket, snuggled in her arms. Allison was brushing back Ramona’s hair, freshening her face with a cool cloth, and arranging a satin bed jacket around her shoulders.
Allison straightened just as Hattie made her way out of the bedroom with the basket of laundry, and assessed her efforts. “There, Cousin Ramona. You look very nice.”
“Let’s just open the window for some fresh air, Allison,” Margot said. “Then you can call Dick.”
Allison pushed up the sash and pulled back the curtains to let in the midmorning sun. She glanced around the room, as if it were her responsibility to make sure everything was in order for this first meeting of father and child, and then, with a proprietary nod, went out into the hall and down the stairs.
Margot smoothed the bedspread a little, though it didn’t need it. “You can rest soon, Ramona.”
Ramona murmured, over the head of her sleeping baby, “Thank you so much, Margot.”
“My pleasure,” Margot said.
“Allison was wonderful, wasn’t she?”
“Amazing,” Margot agreed. “Who would have thought, when that sad girl showed up here six months ago, that we might have a budding nurse in the family?”
A crisp knock sounded on the bedroom door, and Allison peeked in. She said, “There’s a new papa out here eager to meet his baby daughter.”
Ramona touched her hair with her fingers, and gave Allison a brilliant smile. “Please show him in. We’re ready.”
Dick came in, beaming and relieved, with an enormous bunch of flowers in his hands. Behind him, Margot saw Dr. Creedy. She picked up her medical bag and carried it with her out into the hall.
Creedy put out his hand. “Dr. Benedict,” he said. “You’ve left me nothing to do here, I gather.”
Margot shook his hand. “I think everything’s fine now.”
“Any complications?”
“Yes, actually. There was a shoulder dystocia, but it resolved well, and the shoulder didn’t dislocate. I had forceps ready, but I didn’t need them. I would be happy if you would examine my sister-in-law before you go, and the baby, of course. The infant looks perfect to me, but I’m not sure I can be objective in this case.” She rubbed her eyes, feeling the weight of the sleepless night, but buoyed with excitement at the appearance of her brand-new niece.
Creedy said, “You know, I delivered one of my own children, Doctor. When it’s your own flesh and blood, it’s not the same.”
Margot nodded. “Thank you for saying that. I was wondering.”
“When father and daughter have said hello, I’ll check on everyone,” Dr. Creedy said. “But I have no doubt Mrs. Benedict was in the best possible hands.”
“Kind of you to say so. I’ll send a maid up to see if you need anything. I’m going down to telephone to my father and my husband, and give my mother the news.”
She found the entire staff collected at the foot of the staircase. Hattie had already told them, of course, and they all stood smiling up at Margot as she descended. “Everyone is fine,” she said. “Mother and baby—and worried papa—all doing well.”
There were murmurs of delight and congratulations. Hattie said, with a twinkle, “And Auntie Margot? How is she doing?”
“Hattie, I’m so happy, you would think that baby is my own!” Margot said.
Margot went to do her hospital rounds and then her clinic hours. The day seemed endless, not just because she hadn’t slept, but because she could hardly wait to get back to Benedict Hall. When she said good night to Angela and went out the front door of the clinic, she found Blake waiting faithfully in his usual place. They drove to the Red Barn to pick up Frank, then straight home, as Dickson was already there.
“Everything went well?” Frank asked.
“Yes, it did in the end. There was a shoulder dystocia, which surprised me, because the baby’s not very big, but then Ramona’s not big, either. In any case, with Allison’s help, we managed just fine.”
“And the baby?”
“Oh, Frank! She’s just precious!” He smiled, and held her hand until they reached Benedict Hall.
Ramona had slept most of the day. The nurse, a middle-aged woman with a beaky nose and long chin, had arrived in the afternoon and was installed in the nursery next to Dick and Ramona’s bedroom. By dinnertime, she had prepared for everyone to meet the baby girl. One by one, the staff was allowed to climb the front staircase and stand in the open doorway of the bedroom. Nurse peeled back the receiving blanket to show the red-faced, wrinkly infant with her stiff thatch of dark hair. Every one of the staff made the appropriate compliments.
Margot met Blake just as he was coming back from his visitation. He leaned on his cane, making a cautious way down the stairs, and he inclined his head to her when he reached the hall. “A great day for the family,” he said.
“Yes, it is, Blake. You must be feeling—I don’t know—grandfatherly?”
He put his finger to his lips. “Don’t let Mrs. Edith hear you say that! But yes, in a way, I suppose I do.”
“Where is the grandfather, by the way?”
“Mr. Dickson is fortifying himself with a whisky,” Blake said. “Mrs. Edith is in the small parlor, too. I’ll fetch them now.”
“Blake—Mother hasn’t seen the baby yet?”
“No. She didn’t ask, and I wasn’t sure what I should do. Hattie said to leave her be.”
“Hattie would know best,” Margot said. “But that makes me sad.”
“Yes. It does seem a pity.” Blake moved down the hall toward the small parlor.
He was back a moment later with Dickson and Edith. Margot followed them up the stairs, noting the protective arm her father kept around Edith’s waist. They walked to the open door of Ramona’s bedroom, where Dick met them. Edith stopped in the doorway, but Dick urged her to come in. “Don’t you want to hold her, Mother?”
Edith, limply acquiescent, followed him to the bedside, where Nurse set a chair for her, then lifted the infant from her cradle. She laid the baby in Edith’s arms, but Margot saw with approval that she stayed close, ready to step in. She could see by the expression on the nurse’s plain features that she had assessed Edith and judged her not to be trusted with her infant charge.
Dickson stood at the end of the bed, smiling down at his daughter-in-law. “Well done, Ramona, my dear,” he said. “Your little girl is a real beauty.”
She wasn’t, of course. In part of her mind, Margot knew that, and she suspected this was what Dr. Creedy had been hinting at. The baby looked beautiful to all of them who would love her, who already loved her because of who she was. She was red and wizened and scruffy-looking by any objective measure, but by the subjective judgment of every self-respecting Benedict—and, Margot suspected, all the servants as well—she was infant perfection.
Nurse said brightly, “Mrs. Benedict, this is your first grandchild, isn’t it? How do you like becoming a grandmother?”
Edith, gazing down at the baby girl in her arms, said, “Oh, no. Not my first.”
Frank had come up behind Margot, and she felt him stiffen. Her father turned to face them with a stricken look.
Margot shook her head. Preston had laid one more burden on his mother’s shoulders. Poor Edith, who could barely remember what day it was, remembered everything Preston had said to her, even in the grim cell of an insane asylum.
Ramona, fortunately, was spared any knowledge of the Benedict bastard, if such a child even existed. She said, “No, you’re right, Nurse. This is the first Benedict grandchild. My mother-in-law might be a bit confused. It’s been a long day.”
Edith didn’t seem to hear any of this. She bent her head and pressed her pale lips to the baby’s forehead. She murmured, “You’re my first granddaughter, though, little one. I’m quite glad to see you.”
“Louisa,” Ramona said mistily. “Her name is Louisa, Mother Benedict. Do you like it?”
Dickson cleared his throat. “It’s perfect, my dear. Louisa Benedict. Just lovely.”
Edith sighed and said, “Louisa. Louisa. It’s like music, isn’t it?”
Dickson patted her shoulder. “It is, dear. It really is.”
Then it was Frank’s turn. He held out his arms, cradled the warm little bundle, and gave Margot a smile of such delight that it drove every other concern from her mind. After everyone else had gone downstairs to dinner, after Ramona turned on her side and drifted off to sleep, Frank and Margot stayed beside the cradle in the nursery. They sat side by side, watching little Louisa Benedict sleep, admiring her dark eyelashes, the exquisite scrolling of her tiny ears, the pink, wrinkled delicacy of her fingers and toes.
When she squirmed awake and began to cry, Frank picked her up and held her against his shoulder as if he had held dozens of weeping babies. She snuffled once or twice, then subsided again into sleep.
Frank gazed above the child’s head at Margot. His vivid blue eyes were brilliant in the low light. He said, huskily, “Let’s not wait too long for our own, Mrs. Parrish.”
Despite her resolve, she had found that she liked being called Mrs. Parrish very much indeed. She liked the way he looked with the baby in his arms, and at this moment, in this cozy dim room, nothing seemed to matter but the many forms of love that filled Benedict Hall.
She said, “Very well, Major Parrish,” and reached above the baby to kiss him. “We won’t wait too long.”