As you can probably guess, the women set to getting excited about the baby and Joanie set to looking happy and excited even though she was miserable. It's a tough thing to wait sometimes. She was doing what she needed to and even doing something she loved but she had always known that she wanted to be a mother and seeing everyone around her with little ones or swollen bellies was real hard for her. She wasn't just pretending to be happy for them. She was. She really was. She was just jealous and sad. Every month that her period came around, she seemed to get a little lower. I did what I could for her. I told her we needed to keep in practice so that when the time was right we'd be ready to go. She'd giggle a little at me then and I'll say she was no less passionate. She got even closer to Sherry during that time. I know Sherry wanted kids too. She came from a big family and wanted one of those herself and now that she was married a part of her felt like she ought to be able to start on that. But she was still finishing school herself. She was in the process of writing her thesis for her doctorate and that was a lot of work. Billy complained how little time they got together but in true Bill Cody fashion smiled and said they made the most of the time they had. I understood though. Between me working and Joanie in school and working, we didn't have the time we wanted to be together either.
We made it through Thanksgiving and into December. Annie was due about the middle of the month and I felt bad for the girl. She was huge with this kid and, while she never complained hardly at all, she looked miserable. Rachel was starting to get a decent belly on her as well. She was about five months along I guess and I ain't ever seen a woman so happy about having to let her waistbands out. She delighted in everything that had to do with the baby. I think even Al was catching some of her excitement. I knew he still wasn't sold on the idea but buying it wasn't really up for discussion, the baby was happening and he had to right himself with it or at least fake being alright with it. I think maybe he was starting to get okay about the whole fatherhood thing anyway. You could feel the baby move and the first time I saw Rachel take his hand and put it on her tummy for him to feel the kick, there was the same silly grin on his face I'd seen on Kid's face before and on Buck's and Ike's too. It's easy to get lost in that promise and no matter how scared you are about being a parent, those babies can suck you right in.
Yeah things were pretty good for our bunch right about then. And they got even better about the second week into December when we got the call from the hospital telling us that Ike had a new son. Keith was his name and Ike was beside himself he was so happy. We all went to the hospital the next day to bring flowers and fuss over little Keith through the window in the nursery.
That night, after we went to gawk at Keith and shower congratulations on Ike and Annie, Joanie and I sat down to supper.
"James," she began sounding sort of scared to talk. Joanie was a mystery to me sometimes. Through all the years and all we went through, I never quite understood how she could be so bold sometimes and challenge me and tease me so and then other times she would act almost frightened to speak. But maybe that was just more of her challenging me and maybe I needed that challenge. I never got bored with her; that was for sure.
"James, I wanted to talk to you about something."
I wiped my mouth and looked at her expectantly. She remained silent for so long though that I found I needed to speak. This was sometimes the way it was with her. She needed to talk and she knew what she needed to say but she still needed someone else to get the ball rolling.
"It's the beard, isn't it?" I asked. See, at that time a lot of guys started growing goatees and a lot of the folk singers she liked so well had them so I decided to grow one myself. I didn't tell her I was going to, I just did. I had some decent facial hair in those days and I started on Thanksgiving just shaving the parts around where the goatee would be and by the time I went to my office on Monday, I had a nice goatee. Or I thought it was nice. She hadn't really said much about it so now I thought maybe that was what she wanted to talk about and maybe she was afraid of hurting my feelings. "You hate the beard. You can say it. It wouldn't take me but a few minutes to have it gone."
"I like the beard," she said softly, "I think it's kind of sexy and it shows off your dimples."
I was glad to hear it since I kind of liked it myself. I would have shaved it off in a heartbeat if she didn't like it though. I didn't even know I had dimples.
"What is it then, sweetheart?"
"I'm going to stop taking the pill," she said quietly as if she thought I might yell, "It's hard on my body and the doctor said that I need a few months off of it before I try to get pregnant. I only have one more semester. I've been on the stupid thing so long…"
Her voice just trailed away. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say next.
"Then I guess I ought to make a trip to the drug store pretty soon," was all I could come up with.
"You don't have to," she barely squeaked out.
I just looked at her.
"I probably can't get pregnant for another month or two anyway and by then if I did I wouldn't be due until well after I'm done with school. Nothing has to change."
Now I know some guys make a big deal out of wearing a rubber but I was never one of them. Yeah it feels pretty damned good to go without one but I never had a problem with them too much.
"I ain't above using a rubber," I said, "It don't change all that much of anything."
"St-" she began but I tensed and she stopped right there.
I reached out for her and trailed my fingers down the side of her face.
"I'm sorry," I said and I never been sorrier. "If I was any kind of man you'd already know how beautiful you are. You wouldn't still think about what he told you. You'd know how wrong he was. I don't think I did a good enough job of that anyway and then I made you doubt me. I'm sorry, Joanie. I'm so sorry."
Tears were silently falling down her cheeks and she turned those big brown eyes up at me.
"You really do love me, don't you?"
"More than I think I'll ever be able to show you."
I think Joanie felt better after that talk. Well, she felt better about me and about us. She still had a hard time with all the babies and kids around. I guess we didn't get too much time to ponder things because three days after our trip to the hospital to see Keith, I got another call and this one wasn't happy.
I was in my office and it was maybe mid-morning so when I answered the phone I thought it would be work related. Joanie was in class and hardly anyone else ever called me at work.
"Hickok," I said pinning the receiver against my ear with my shoulder so I could get out some papers I needed to go over.
"Jimmy?"
It was Al. Of all the people who never called me at work, Al topped that list. Then again, things were changing because he once had topped the list of people who had never visited me at work and only a couple months before he had done that. Something in his voice said this wasn't a shoot the breeze kind of call.
"What's wrong?" I asked as the dread overtook me. There were so many things he could be calling about that would warrant that tone.
"I brought Rachel to the hospital this morning," he said, "She was having pains. They still won't let me in to see her, Jimmy."
He sounded so helpless. Al wasn't a man who did things halfway and that included loving. I knew that from being one of his unofficially adopted kids but if I ever doubted it, hearing him right then confirmed how much he loved Rachel. They weren't just together because they'd both been lonely. He didn't marry her just to have someone; he married her because he was so consumed with love for her that he couldn't think of doing anything else.
"I'll be right there," I said and hung up.
He had never failed to be there when I was at my lowest. Hearings, court proceedings, contentious meetings with old Hannity…he was there. He and Emma, almost like real parents and exactly like real family. There was no way I could leave him sitting in a hospital waiting room alone. He'd never let me sit alone like that. I knew it in my heart then and he proved it to me down the road.
I grabbed my coat and flew out of the office stopping only briefly to let Florence know that I had a family emergency and had to leave for the day. Then I nearly ran to my car and headed for the hospital.
I found Al in a waiting room. I'm not sure I can describe the look on his face. There was some of the pain I remember from him telling me about Lucille and there was fear. He suddenly looked both older and younger than I had ever seen him.
"Has there been any word?" I asked and Al just shook his head. We sat there for a long while before Al spoke.
"It's too early for the pains, Jimmy," he said, "She was bleeding too. I can't lose her. I never got over losing Lucille but Rachel made that hurt less. I love her, Jimmy, I really do."
"I know," I told him, "She loves you too. She's a good woman."
He nodded and I could see the moisture in his eyes. He wasn't going to let the tears go around me and that was alright. I wasn't sure I could handle if this man who had been so strong for me started crying. I just put a hand on his arm. All I could really do is let him know I was there. For what it was worth—and I knew it wasn't worth that much—he wasn't alone. I tried to put myself in his shoes and just couldn't let my mind go to any place where I might lose Joanie. We both looked up when a man stepped into the doorway.
"Mr. Hunter?" the man in the white coat inquired and Al jumped up. I got up too and stood behind Al.
"How's Rachel? Is she alright?" Al asked and his voice was getting frantic. I had never heard that from him. He was the one who always kept his cool when the rest of us lost ours.
"We're giving her medication to stop the contractions," the doctor said, "If we can stop labor, she'll have to have complete bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy."
"And if you can't?" Al asked as if he didn't really want to know.
"If we can't stop it then this baby is being born today. It can't live this early."
"Can I see her?"
"Once we can stabilize her condition then we'll send for you," the doctor turned to walk away but Al reached and grabbed at the sleeve of his white coat making him turn back to face us.
"I lost one wife," he said, his voice small and frail which were two words I never thought I'd attribute to Al Hunter. "She's…she…she's going to be alright, ain't she?"
Before the doctor could answer a nurse ran up to him. I remember her hair was starting to come loose from the bun she wore under those little starched hats they had back then and her shoes squeaked on the floor. She whispered something to the doctor.
"Mr. Hunter, your wife is having a reaction to the medication. We have to discontinue."
"Reaction?"
"Her lungs are filling with fluid," he said and I could see the shift in his body language as he readied to go to serious work with serious consequences.
"Just save her," Al pleaded, "Whatever else happens, just save her."
The doctor gave a nod that was barely noticeable and ran off in the direction the nurse came from.
Al turned to me and the color was gone from his face.
"I can't lose her," he said, "I just can't."
"I know," I said and I did too. We all thought times was so modern then and they were and they are even more so now but women still have miscarriages and women still die in childbirth and things still go wrong. I knew how he felt. If anything threatened to take my Joanie from me, I don't know what I would do. Just the thought that I would come home with no one to talk to, no one to cook for, no bouncing brown curls greeting me—it was like a punch in the stomach to even think that there were things so far out of my control that could take her from me. And the talk we had just had about her stopping her pills kept echoing through my head. We'd had a good roll, our little group, all healthy babies and mothers. I was terrified to think our luck might be running out. We hadn't been terribly careful since she stopped taking them but then we knew that it might be a while before we had to be. Still I was stopping at the drug store later. I knew I couldn't put it off forever but right then I was legitimately spooked and the only thing I could think of was someday sitting in that waiting room myself and praying that nothing happened to my sweet girl.
It seemed like forever before the doc came in again. This time he looked like the doctors on TV when they had been in surgery. He wasn't bloody but he was wearing scrubs and he looked so serious. I wasn't sure what to do for poor Al. We both jumped up and looked at the doctor expectantly.
"Mr. Hunter, your wife is stable," he said sliding the cap from his head and looking exhausted. "We weren't able to stop labor. The baby didn't even take a breath. It was a boy. When you're ready you can go to the nurse's station and someone will take you to your wife's room. She's sedated right now."
With that he turned and left leaving us to just look after him.
"Rachel's okay," I said but by then he was on to thinking about something else.
"A son, Jimmy," he whispered blankly, "A son. I would have had a son. He would have been mine and hers and had my name and everything. I wasn't even thinking about the baby before, Jimmy. I was so worried about her. I don't think I realized before but I really wanted that baby. I was really looking forward to that baby."
I didn't even know what to say but he kept talking anyway.
"She's going to be devastated," he said, "I have to go to her. I have to hold her. I don't even know what I can say to her right now. What do I say?"
"There aren't words for hurt like this," I told him, "Just hold her. Let her know you're hurting too. Be there and listen to whatever she needs to say. She'll be alright in time. She ain't the first woman to lose a baby but she'll need you for a while."
He turned and looked so raw I almost had to look away from him.
"You'll come with me to see her, won't you?"
"Yeah," I said, "I'll come for a little while."
We found a nurse and followed her down the hall and then we slowly walked into the room. Rachel was asleep. I had always thought Rachel was a beautiful woman but sleeping there with her blonde hair around her on the pillow, she looked a little like an angel and even a little like a sleeping child. I hung back against the wall while Al walked over to the bed. There was a chair there but he sat on the edge of her bed. He stroked her face gently and I saw her stir and squint her eyes. She smiled a moment before the day's events came back to her and her face crumbled. One hand flew to her mouth and the other to her belly which no longer housed a baby. She just started shaking her head.
"No," she sobbed, "No, Al please."
I know she was begging him to tell her somehow she wasn't feeling what she was feeling or that some miracle occurred and a baby barely five months along lived. That doesn't happen even today with all the advancements that have come along.
"I'm sorry, Rachel," he said softly, "God I am so sorry."
I was sitting there trying to figure if I should say something to excuse myself or just slip away. I didn't really have any place being there right then. This was private between the two of them and I know that if me and Joanie was going through something like that I wouldn't really appreciate an audience.
"Was it a boy or a girl?" she asked, "Not that I suppose it matters all that much."
"It was a boy," he replied, "We would've had a son."
"Where is he?" she, well she didn't really ask as much as she demanded and her voice was starting to get frantic. "I want to see him. Where's my baby?"
Al looked helpless at me. It was something neither of us thought to ask. I kind of felt glad to be there right then because I could find out and Rachel wouldn't have to be left alone. I excused myself to go and do just that.
I went to the nurse's station and found a kindly looking woman sitting and filling out something on a chart looking like maybe it was the first time she had sat down all day.
"Excuse me," I said to get her attention and she looked up at me and offered a weary smile as she tucked her pen behind her ear and adjusted her little starched hat on her head.
"What can I do for you, sweetie?"
"I'm here with Rachel Hunter," I said, "I'm a family friend. She wanted to know where her baby is. Would you know something like that?"
The nice woman whose nametag read Marge turned toward her charts.
"Handsome young man like you and with a wedding ring besides," she said going through various files, "I thought you might be asking about your own wife or baby."
"No, I'm just here with the Hunters."
"Horribly sad business that," she said shaking her head as she pulled out Rachel's file. "The baby's dead, sweetie."
"I know that, ma'am," I told her, "But surely he has to be somewhere."
"Sure, the body is in the morgue waiting for instructions. Once we know where to send it—which funeral home, I mean—we'll release the body."
I went back to Rachel's room armed with the information.
"He's all alone in the morgue?" she said more than asked, "No, he can't stay there. I have to see him. I have to hold him."
Al looked at me and I studied her for a moment before I walked over and took the chair that was still sitting empty by the bed.
"Rachel, would you look at me a minute, please," I said and she did.
"You know he's not alive, right?"
I hated asking the question and I really didn't know what the response would be. If she was concocting a delusion that the child was alive and I challenged that it could get ugly.
"Yes," she said and her tears renewed, "I still want to see him. I want to hold him. He's still my baby."
That was really all I needed to know. I thought for a minute about it though. I know now they do let a mother hold a stillborn child. They wrap it in a blanket and let the mother hold it and the father too and other family that's there even. But in those days it didn't happen like that and a lot of people thought it was better that way. Maybe even for some women it was but it was a thought men had with little thought to what a woman might want. Men sometimes are out of sight out of mind people. And I've heard it said that while motherhood and a baby are real for a woman from the moment she finds out she's expecting, for a father it doesn't become real until he holds the child. I think there's some truth to that and if we didn't hold the child then it wasn't real and it's maybe easier to handle. But a woman who's been feeling that life moving inside her for months and been making decisions everyday based around that child's well-being, well, holding or not holding the child isn't going to make it more or less real to her. Saying goodbye and having at least that one moment to hold her child even if he's already dead, that can be real important to healing that hurt.
I kissed Rachel's forehead and set off to find the doctor. It took a lot of fighting and every bit of psychology I learned but I argued that doctor into letting us put Rachel in a wheelchair and wheel her down to the morgue and hold her baby boy just for a few moments. Al held him too and I think it was good for him. He had already realized how much he did really want that baby and I think he needed to right himself with everything he was feeling. Before he walked over to hold the body of his son, I pulled him closer and whispered to him.
"Some people don't name a baby that comes this early or never gets to take a breath but some do. It might help her to give him a name. There'll be a marker and I don't think she'll want it to just say 'baby boy', do you?"
I guess they settled on the name David. That's what's on the marker at any rate. I found a way to take my leave shortly after we got Rachel back into her room. She wasn't okay, not by a long shot but I knew she would be. I still worried for both of them though. I didn't have kids myself then but it don't take having them yourself to understand how it must hurt to lose one. Hell, I remember seeing little Timmy all sick in the hospital and how scared I was then and how sick I felt at the thought that he might die and he wasn't even mine. But this was their time to come together and help each other heal and I had no place in that. I would offer whatever help I could give even if it was only a listening ear or shoulder to cry on but the grief was for the two of them to recover from. It's helpless that feeling but that's the way it is. I know some stuff I went through down the road and some things Joanie and I did together probably frustrated my friends and family to no end that they couldn't do more but that's just how it is. Sometimes the most we can do is be there and offer our love. Usually that's enough too.
This was rough to write. My heart just breaks for Al and Rachel. I can't even be as excited about Keith McSwain. It's just horribly sad.-J