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Paula rubbed her eyes with tiny fists and yawned, then startled again at her mother's scream. She whimpered and buried her face in my shoulder. I'd offered to take her home with me, but Mrs. Pinser wanted her nearby. Now, hours into her labor, I wondered if that mattered.
The midwife, Old Lady Gunther, said everything was normal each time I asked, which was on the hour. "These things take time," she muttered in her German accent.
"Thirsty."
Paula's sleepy voice awakened me, and I rose from the rocker. "How ‘bout I find you some milk?" Strolling into the kitchen, I opened the icebox and retrieved the pitcher.
"Here now." I settled her in a chair and placed the cup before her. She gulped greedily.
Another scream shook me, and I again pledged myself against men. How had my mama given birth four times? For that matter, what about the Yates? They had seven children, all about a year apart, and one on the way.
Was it for love? I'd never been in love, and frankly, had no intention to try. Love must blind someone so much they'd endure anything. I looked at Paula's tear-stained face. I liked babies good enough and children in general, and I loved Paula, but it seemed to me like torture to bring them here.
There was also the fact that Gloria Pinser's children didn't have a father. The church and the community supported her. Pastor said the Bible spoke about caring for widows and orphans, so I thought it was good what all the people did. Yet both of the men she'd loved were gone and what did she have left?
I tossed my thoughts away. I didn't like thinking that way, and so turned instead to Elias. Now, there was something worth thinking of. Marta said he was handsome, and he sure was. Though I’d just pledged myself against love, marriage, and children, I did have eyes. Broad-shouldered and muscular with that cap of dark hair, he looked like he could give Brian a run for his money at arm-wrestling.
Brian prided himself on his wins. The town's male population often had competitions and no one had yet to beat him. I pictured Elias' arms tussling with Brian’s and my palms broke into a sweat. Startled, I buried them in my skirt.
"Now, none of that," I mumbled to myself.
A piercing cry split the air and Paula and I both crept to the bedroom doorway. "The baby's here!" I whispered to her, and her eyes widened. I took her hand and paused in the hall.
"Is she ... all right?" I called.
Old Lady Gunther emerged with a slimy form in her hands. "Is good!" she cried. "Is a boy! Fat and healthy."
I could see that plainly, and I smiled. His purple face screwed into a fist, he bellowed his rage at being born. "How’s that?" I said as I bounced her around. "A brother. What do you think? Wanna keep him?"
She giggled.
I crawled in my bed every bone aching and sagged into the mattress. It rustled underneath me. A half-day spent hunting and the other half spent caring for Paula, plus the birth, had worn me out.
"How was it?" Brian had asked when I arrived.
"Long. Hard. Painful."
He chuckled at my snappy response. "You look like you gave birth instead of Mrs. Pinser."
I pursed my lips. "I’m never giving birth. I’m never getting married. I’m never falling in love."
He fell back in his chair, shaking his head. "Boy, are you wrong."
"Wrong? Now, when have I ever not kept my word?"
"True, but this time you're wrong.”
"Why?" Though he was the oldest and Steven stood between us, Brian had always been my confidant. We often stayed up late debating topics, and so I wanted to know his reason. "How am I wrong?"
"It's already begun!" he announced, spinning his fingers upward with a flourish.
"What's already begun? Really, Bri, you're being confusing."
"I saw the way you looked at this Elias character and how he looked at you."
Elias? I humphed and crossed my arms. "And how was that?"
"All goggle-eyed.” He rolled his eyes at me.
"Oh, I was not!" I banged my fist on the table, and the platter rattled.
"Oh, yes you were," he returned. "But what's the harm anyway? What's got you against love and marriage? And I thought you liked kids."
"I do, but look at Mrs. Pinser. She's all alone now. Twice, she's lost her husband, and now she has two kids and no father."
He stared at me for a moment, and then wagged his head. "You don't get it."
I stared at him. What else was there for me to get? Lost love was painful. He couldn't argue with that logic.
"It's not about what she's lost," he replied. "Yes, she misses them; I'm sure. It's about what she's gained."
I must have had a strange expression because he waved his palm before my face.
"Wake up, Sis. Ask yourself this. Has Pop ever said mama's death made him regret having us?"
"No, of course not!" I fussed. "How ridiculous!"
"Does he love her any less now that she's gone?"
I considered that without answering because if anything he loved her more. He'd hold her things sometimes and gaze outward.
"See? Love is eternal. Isn't that what the Bible says? Why would Mrs. Pinser, or Papa, or anyone else ever trade in the love they've had? Every time she looks at those children, she sees their fathers. Seems to me that makes love worth her time."
I rose from the table. "Guess we'll have a real baby Jesus this year," I inserted.
"Swift," he said, and he laid a hand on my arm. "You can't stop love anyhow."
I looked down at his fingers. "So why did you and Barbara break up?" I'd never asked him that before, and he'd never offered to tell me. "I thought the two of you were gettin’ married."
He sighed and pulled me back into the chair. "We were, but there was no love between us. It just took me months to see it."
My gut twisted. "I'm sorry, Bri. I shouldn't have asked."
However, he only shrugged. "It's no big deal. She's happy and I'm happy. Just promise me this." He fixed his gaze on mine. "Don't give up on love. If you like Elias, that's not such a bad thing."
"I've only barely met him, and he didn't seem so impressed."
"Oh, trust me, he was impressed. But maybe tomorrow, you could look a little more girlish."
I smiled. He'd never asked me to do that. "And here I thought you didn't care.”
He tousled my hair and laughed. "I like you whatever you're doin’. But Elias is not your brother, and too much of that will have him thinkin' the wrong thoughts."
The creak of a cricket arose from the corner of the room, and I turned my head, the conversation receding into the quiet of the night. "What do you think?" I asked him.
Creak-creak-creak was his only response.