Small Town Girl

On the day following Mary's surgery, Tess arrived at her bedside at midmorning and found she missed the company of her sisters, who failed to show up as promised. It was difficult watching her mother, whom she remembered as hale and hearty, now wearing support stockings, clinging to a walker and struggling to stand upright for a mere fifteen seconds.

Tess once again found herself sadly lacking in bedside technique. Without Judy and Renee, conversations with Mary tended to be brief and drift off into silences, or occasionally, run into brick walls. She told Mary about her visit from Casey, and how much she'd enjoyed the girl.

'She tells me she's sung with a band,' Tess prompted.

'Yes, but I never heard them.'

'Country?'

'I think so.'

'She's got a really distinctive voice, a gruff contralto that sort of claws at you.'

'Kenny made her quit doing that, though. He didn't like that bunch she was hanging around with, so don't encourage her.'

'Kenny's got a real thing against country western singers, doesn't he?'

'Oh, Tess, are you still picking on him after all these years?'

That was one of the brick walls.

The day sent Tess's emotions vacillating.

A physical therapist named Virginia came in at mid-morning and raised Mary's legs several times, drawing soft moans while Mary's eyelids closed tightly and twitched.

'You'll be helping her with her therapy at home,' Virginia told Tess. 'Would you like to try it now?'

'No! I mean… you go ahead. I'll help tomorrow.' The idea of being the one to cause her mother pain caused a lightness in Tess's stomach. Who had done this for Momma the first time? Renee? Judy? Would they take turns this time or leave it all up to her once she got Momma home?

Midway through the day a nurse removed the oxygen prong from Mary's nose, which made her look so much less vulnerable. But the IV and catheter stayed, lashing her to the bed in her wrinkly regulation gown with the split up the back.

When Judy showed up around two P.M., Tess greeted her with overt enthusiasm, surprising even herself. Judy again remained cool to Tess, waddling over to the bed to give her affection to Mary instead. 'Hey, Momma, how you doing today?'

'Not so good, I'm afraid. Lots of pain.'

'Well, you know how it was last time. If you can just hang in there for the first couple of days, it gets better really quick after that.' Somehow, it seemed to Tess, her sisters knew all the right things to say, whereas she felt awkward consoling her mother. 'Renee's taking a day off today,' Judy told Mary. 'She's got some wedding stuff that she's got to do. She said she'll see you tomorrow. Anybody else been up to visit?'

At that moment a cacophony of chatter approached from down the hall and three people entered the room at once: Casey, her father-bearing a box of chocolates-and a man in his mid-fifties wearing a short-sleeved summer shirt with a clerical collar.

Mary smiled when she saw him. 'Reverend Giddings.'

'Mary,' he said fondly, taking her hand while hellos were exchanged around the room, the most enthusiastic from Casey to Mary. 'I brought a whole greeting party! Look who I ran into in the hall!'

'Casey and Kenny… my goodness, this is nice.'

They went to Mary and took turns kissing her while Casey sang, 'Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how do your hip sockets grow?'

Mary caught Casey's spirit and replied, 'With silver balls of some sort, I'm told,' referring to the new ball-and- socket prosthesis she now wore in her right hip. Everyone laughed and Mary admitted, 'All I know is it hurts like the dickens today.'

'This should help.' Casey took the candy from her father's hand and laid the box on Mary's stomach. 'Your favorites-very, very extra-dark chocolates.'

'Oh, my goodness, oh, yes, they are my favorites.' She set to splitting the cellophane with a thumbnail while conversation enlivened the room. Casey oversaw the candy operation while Reverend Giddings passed along messages of good will from members of his congregation. In the general shifting of visitors Kenny somehow ended up standing near Judy and Tess at the foot of the bed.

'Well, Judy,' he said, glancing down at her, 'haven't seen you for a long time.'

'Keeping out of mischief?' Judy asked.

'In this town?' he answered wryly. 'Hard not to.'

Assuming the typical male hospital visitor stance-feet planted and arms crossed-he glanced briefly at Tess and said, much quieter, 'Hello, how're you today?'

He spoke civilly out of respect for Mary, and because the minister was in the room, but both of them felt awkward, standing side by side carrying on a conversation strictly for the benefit of others.

'Fine. A little tired. I'm not used to this schedule.'

'I imagine you're used to working a little later at night.'

'Most of the time.'

Mary said, 'Girls, look-dark chocolate. Would you like one?'

Tess answered, 'No, thanks, Mom,' but Judy moved away to pick one from the proffered box.

'How about you, Kenny? Chocolate?'

'No, thanks, Mary. Bad for the waistline.'

Kenny and Tess stood apart from the others, an island of restraint in the room of six people, carrying on one of three conversations taking place simultaneously.

'Casey was pretty excited when she came home last night. I appreciate your taking time with her.'

'I enjoyed her a lot.'

'She told me you sang together.'

'We did, a little.'

'I suppose you know you lit a real fire under her.'

'I think the fire was there before she came over to see me, so if you're upset about it-'

'Who says I'm upset about it?'

'Well, Momma said you didn't like her singing with her band.'

'Bunch of potheads and school dropouts, that's why. Heck, nothing short of a guillotine could keep Casey from singing.'

'Do I hear my name over there?' Casey came over and joined them. 'What are you two talking about?'

'About last night,' Tess said.

Casey's natural ebullience spilled out once again. 'Last night was too cool! Best night of my life! Man, I couldn't even sleep when I got home!'

'I couldn't either. That song kept bothering me.'

'You get a second verse down yet?'

'Mm…' Tess waggled a hand like a jet dipping its wings. 'A bad one, maybe.'

'I don't think you could write anything bad.'

'Oh, listen, I've written some that were so bad my producer winced when he heard them.'

'He the one who hears them first after you write them?'

'Usually.'

'Why?'

'Well, because he's got a good ear and sound judgment. That's why I hired him.'

'What if he likes it and you don't?'

'Actually, that's happened. He asked me to listen to a demo one time that I thought was a real dud. But I agreed to give it a try, and when we did I changed my mind. I found I liked it a lot better once the studio musicians put their touch on it. In the end it turned out to be one of my best-selling singles ever.'

'Which one?'

' 'Branded.' '