Chapter 23

[October]

James and Betty Taylor drove the five hours from Odessa to San Antonio and checked into a nearby hotel. They were a great help with Julie. One evening, while grandma and grandpa stayed in the apartment with the baby, Eric took Tami out for a nice dinner. They talked for a good two hours, and afterwards they parked in a far darkened corner of the junior high school parking lot and made out like teenagers.

When they got home, Julie was asleep in her crib, Betty Taylor had cleaned the entire kitchen, and Mr. Taylor had fixed the leaky faucet on the kitchen sink. Eric's parents left promptly for their hotel, promising to return the next morning to help Tami. "And of course we'll be at your game," Mr. Taylor said.

Eric and Tami went straight to their bedroom. Julie mercifully waited until five minutes after they had finished making love to wake up for her first feeding of the night. When the baby was settled back in the crib, and Tami was settled against Eric's chest in bed, he said, "I wish my dad wouldn't come to the game tomorrow."

"Why? He always came to your games when you were growing up."

"I know, and every time I looked over at the stands at him, I could see it - that thick cloud of disappointment just hovering over him. I never lived up to his expectations for me."

"Did he say that?"

"He didn't have to say it. I could see the cloud."

"Well, I used to sit by him in the stands our junior year of high school, before we were dating, and he used to brag to the boosters about you."

"My dad doesn't brag. Not even about himself. Certainly not about me."

"Fine, honey, if you're determined to have daddy issues, you go on ahead and knock yourself out."

"You don't know. You didn't have him frown at you because you came home with a B+ instead of an A. You didn't have him wake you up at 6 AM on a Saturday morning to do football drills. And besides, you have mommy issues." He didn't dare mention her father, whom she hadn't spoken to in years.

"Because my mother's a religious nut," she said. "Or at least she was. I don't know what she's doing with that new husband of hers. For all I know she's worshiping Mary now."

"Catholics don't worship Mary. And I never really saw that – her being a religious nut."

"You didn't have her measure the distance between your skirt and your knee before you went to school, or tell you that you were going to burn in hell if you so much as looked at a guy."

Eric peered down at her. "Is that really what she said?"

"Not in those words exactly, but yes." She raised her head to look at him. "We'll be better parents than our parents, won't we?"

"We'll sure as hell try."

[*]

A five-month-old Julie spent most of the game in her grandfather's arms or sitting on his lap, where she gurgled and toyed with the AFL championship ring on his finger, occasionally trying to bring it to her mouth.

The Yellow Snakes lost, and when Eric met his family outside the locker room later, Julie was half asleep against Mr. Taylor's shoulder.

"Son," Mr. Taylor said, "y'all really should have used the Wing-T."

Betty Taylor poked her husband in the ribs.

"I mean, good game. Very close." Mr. Taylor looked at Julie, who had just turned her head toward his voice. "Don't you think so, Princess? Your daddy's a fine coach." Then he glanced at his wife, and Betty Taylor tightly smiled her half-approval.

[*]

As Tami and Eric were saying goodbye to his parents and walking them out the front door of their apartment the next day, Mr. Taylor paused on the cement stoop a foot from the stairs that led down to the parking lot. He reached into his overcoat and handed Tami a card. "A belated baby shower gift," he said.

Eric stood in the open doorway, holding Julie, and watching as Tami opened the card. A check fell out. Tami scooped it up and saw the amount - $5,000. "Wow!" she exclaimed.

"I got offered a new job as the Athletic Director at El Paso University starting in January," Mr. Taylor said. "It pays handsomely. Betty intends to continue working full-time. With no kids at home…well, we don't really need all that money."

Tami showed Eric the check, and he raised an eyebrow.

"We know you're saving for a down payment on a house," said Betty Taylor as she dug the car keys out of her purse.

"But use a tiny bit of it for the christening gown," Mr. Taylor said.

Tami was tucking the card and check back into the envelope. She stopped halfway and looked up at her father-in-law. "We are so thankful, James, we really are. But, you know…we've been going to this nondenominational church. They don't do infant baptism."

"Well, you have to get the baby baptized," Betty Taylor said.

Tami blinked. She might have expected this from her father-in-law, but not her mother-in-law. She could usually count on Betty Taylor to come to her defense.

"I'm sure we can find a priest who's willing," Mr. Taylor said.

"You can even come to Odessa and do it in our church," Betty Taylor said.

Tami looked at Eric for defense, but he just said, "We'll figure something out," handed Tami the baby, and then walked his parents to their car.

Later that night, when Julie was asleep, and they were preparing for bed, Tami confronted him about it.

"I don't like taking money from my father," Eric said, "but the truth is, we need it if we're ever getting out of this apartment. Besides, I don't mind getting Julie baptized."

"Well I do."

"What's the big deal?" he said as he stripped off his socks. "We take her to Odessa, we get her baptized, we have a little party, my mom's happy, my dad's happy."

"I don't like them thinking they can march in here writing checks and telling us how to make spiritual decisions about our daughter! It's not what our church does."

He sighed and dropped his pants. "The church you picked."

"What? You said you liked the church."

He crawled under the covers in his boxers and undershirt. "No, I said we could go to the church."

She was already in her sweats, and she crawled in next to him. "You don't like it?"

"I don't care, Tami. If you're happy there, I don't care, but it's a little casual."

"Casual?"

"You know, casual."

"No, I don't know. Talk to me, Eric. What don't you like about our church?"

"Well…there's not really any liturgy. When people pray, they're just making it up off the top of their heads. And those prayers go on forever sometimes. The sermon is like…half an hour long. At least. They only have communion once a month, and it's in these little plastic shot glasses, and it tastes like grape juice."

"Because it is grape juice."

He adjusted his pillow and leaned back against the wall. "No one ever kneels when they pray. They clap while they're singing sometimes. And the hymns are so contemporary. They're not even hymns. They're like…really bad pop songs. And what's with the guitars and the drums? What's wrong with an organ? And when they pass the peace, people just mill all over the place, in and out of the chairs – they don't even have pews! – just walking up and down the chairs, chattering at each other. There's no symbols anywhere hardly. There's just that one cross. No robes. No stained glass windows. No candles. No real altar to speak of. No images. No colors. People wear jeans, Tami. They wear jeans to church. They – " He stopped suddenly. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Why didn't you tell me this before? Why didn't you tell me you didn't like it?"

"Because you do. And you seem….you know…you like it there. I'm happy to do whatever you want."

"You don't sound happy."

"I just want to get Julie baptized in a Catholic church. To shut up my parents. That's all. It's not asking that much, is it? We can keep going to the happy clappy church you like. She can always get re-baptized at another church as an adult if that's her thing. If she wants to do that. If she feels like the first one didn't count."

"Fine! Fine. Just tell me when to show up for this christening." She slid down under the blanket and rolled her back to him.

"Well, it'll have to be after football season."

She lay there stewing for a couple of minutes, but then she began to think. Eventually, she rolled to Eric, who was still awake and staring up at the ceiling. "Hon, why don't we start trying other churches until we find one we both like? I don't want to go Catholic, but it doesn't have to be nondenominational. We can try something in between. Something more…traditional."

"Tami, if you're happy – "

"- I'm mostly happy with that Bible Study I'm in. We don't really study. We talk about being new moms. I can keep going to that, even if we go to a different church."

He scooted down, turned on his side, and kissed her. "Thanks," he whispered.

"You know, all you had to do was talk to me. You need to tell me things. What you're thinking. What you're feeling. What you want."

He smiled. "I want a blow job."

She rolled her eyes. "Julie's going to be up in three hours." She reached for the light. "Good night."