Even Wesley. Especially Wesley, who had gotten up off this bed quite nimbly and walked down the stairs with Don Francisco without feeling any pain at all.
That would be only fair of God.
Gently, she stroked Eleanor Maria's cheek. " Kindlein so suess," she crooned under her breath. "Sweet baby, sweet baby."
She should have known, of course. God had told her. "Your desire shall be unto your husband. In pain shall you bring forth your children." God knew everything. He had given her what she prayed for, and she couldn't claim that he hadn't warned her.
Her desire was unto her husband. She had never been quite so happy as when she woke up, after the birth, to find that she was back in Wesley's arms. Without apologizing for having used her own best judgment.
But. Desiring him didn't mean she had to take all of his statements at face value. Every man wanted sons, no matter what he said. That was a truth more certain than anything taught by either religion or science. More true than any article of faith, truer than the movements of the planets. There was time. For now, they had this wonderful baby. Wesley was right. Eleanor Maria was incredibly beautiful, unbelievably adorable. But Wesley would have his sons, too.
She would have to have a word with God about it. Maybe praying for the blessing of children hadn't been specific enough. Maybe God thought that she hadn't cared whether the baby was a boy or a girl.
Next time, she would leave no margin for error.
"Why aren't you taking this up with your Nani?" Willie Ray Hudson asked.
"Because I don't think she would tell me," Missy said honestly enough. "She's ticked off enough as it is, because of Ron. Remember last fall? Remember Easter dinner, when she wouldn't invite him?"
"And you got some of this stuff from Eleanor?"
"Yes, Pop," Missy said as meekly as possible.
"Including the comments about the women in your mother's family?"
"Yes." Missy nodded.
"I may have to have a conversation with that gossipy old lady one of these days. But, since she's opened it…"
"I opened it, Pop," Missy said. "I told her I had counted from when she and Grandpa got married to when Uncle Wes was born."
"Girl, you may have more guts than any Jenkins born in the last century to do that. Or more Hudson than Jenkins in you." He paused. "Did you get an answer?"
"One thing led to another. 'Another' was a rather deft change of topic from the behavior of members of the Jenkins family to the behavior of female members of the Hudson family."
"Sounds like Eleanor." Willie Ray paused. "Well, okay. I suppose you also counted from our marriage to your mother's birth?"
"Yes. But you might say that it was within the realm of plausible deniability. Especially given how little Mom is. From June 27 to February 2 is sort of what you might call marginal."
"Take it from me. Debbie was full term. You might consider your mom part of a joyous ongoing celebration of the fact that I'd made it back from Korea all in one piece."
Missy nodded.
"Vera wasn't nearly as young then as Debbie was when she married Don Jefferson, of course." Willie Ray paused. "I'm not going to talk to you about your mother's personal life. That's between the two of you-however much she wants to tell you. Or not."
Missy nodded again.
"Then, if that's understood. Vera and I were both twenty-two when we married." He smiled. "What gave your Nani nervous prostration for several weeks was that I wasn't out of the army yet, which meant that for a while we weren't sure that the wedding could be scheduled to come off as promptly as it did. Vera was the kind of person who would have been awfully embarrassed to be showing when she walked down the aisle. Her sister Bonnie, Keith Pilcher's grandma, cut it a lot closer to the deadline and she'd had to be a bridesmaid with Bonnie bulging, so to speak."
"Oh."
"Yep. It was one of those 'heads only' engagement photos for Bonnie and Bert. And then for the wedding, a picture of them seated, with the attendants standing behind them. It's amazing what a few strategically placed artificial ferns could do for a girl's public image."
"Mean, Pop," Missy said.
"After we got married and I got out, we spent the next couple of years in married students' housing at WVU while I finished my degree on the GI bill. Vera worked as a secretary and got what they called back then her 'Ph. T.'-'Putting Hubby Through.' "
"Cutesy," Missy said. "Really cutesy."
"It was a different time and a different way of looking at things," Willie Ray said. "Though I can't say that I thought much of it myself at the time. Sort of a consolation prize. Your Nani has a sharp mind."
"So you graduated when?"
"In June of '57. The second baby was supposed to be the boy, since we already had a girl with Debbie. 'Tea for two and two for tea, a boy for you, a girl for me.' You can't believe how spitting mad Vera was when it turned out to be your Aunt Aura Lee. Luckily, Ray was born eleven months after that, so Vera had an absorbing new interest and never really took it out on her. But the truth of the matter is that Vera's 'mothering' focused on Debbie and Ray. As long as Aura Lee kept her head down, Vera was pretty oblivious to what she did."
"Does that lead to what Gran was implying?" Missy asked.
"In a way, I suppose. Every now and then, Vera would perk up. The summer Aura Lee was fourteen going on fifteen, before her freshman year of high school, she came home one evening from Nat Fritz's house. Vera went into a tirade because during the afternoon, several people called to say that she was sitting on the creek bank with Joe Stull instead of being at the library, where she was supposed to be," Willie Ray said. "And reminding your Nani that Joe was two and a half years older. Plus not exactly from the cream of the crop, socially."
"Sounds like Grantville."
"Aura Lee pointed out rather firmly that since all Nani's informants agreed that that the two of them had been sitting on the creek bank talking, in plain sight of everyone, not touching, each one of them throwing a pebble into the water every now and then, her mother didn't have much to complain about. Which was true, as far as it went."
"Didn't it go far enough?" Missy asked.
"Well, I bothered to do what Vera didn't. I asked Aura Lee what they'd been talking about, and she answered, 'kissing frogs.' Specifically, that most boys were frogs and that very few frogs turned into princes when they were kissed by princesses. So that, overall, there wasn't much point to kissing them. All of which seemed to derive from some kid who was going to be at the Fritzes' that evening wanting to kiss my daughter. She never did explain exactly how or why she called Joe in as a consultant on the point. But basically they concluded that she was going to put off kissing anybody at all until she got a year older, at which point they'd meet there on the creek bank again and discuss matters in more detail."
Missy giggled. "That is so funny."
"Except that a year later, we had one of the worst gully-washers ever. It was raining solid sheets of water, the creeks and branches were up. Joe came along in his mother's rattletrap of a car and, just like he expected, found Aura Lee in a yellow slicker huddled up next to the guard rail, with the creek rising fast and water lapping the toes of her flip-flops. Holding onto the post. As stubborn as a little mule. So he piled her into the car and headed out here to bring her home. They barely made it across the ford at the run. Dashed into the house. Headed into the kitchen. Of course, Aura Lee was hungry. The girl was always hungry. For someone so tiny, she ate incredible amounts. So I found them sitting at the table. She offered me her specialty, a peanut butter and banana sandwich. I made a face. Joe said that he'd opt for straight peanut butter on toast. That sounded pretty good, so I took it. Just then the phone rang. Vera, with Debbie and Anne, saying that she couldn't cross the run and was going back to spend the night in town. I told Joe to call his Ma with the news. So he ended up staying the night."