Pigs in Heaven
Page 23
“I did my best.”
“Don’t make fun of Annawake’s job, Dell,” Millie says, turning her back on them, running water into a big aluminum kettle. The sun shining through her shocked hair reveals the perfect globe of her skull.
“I never make fun of Annawake. She’d beat me up.”
“Dad, let’s go.” Baby Dellon, who is almost six and hates to be called Baby Dellon, runs into the kitchen with a football helmet on.
Dellon stands up and puts a hammerlock on Annawake’s neck from behind. “When you getting married, beautiful?” he asks.
“When Gabe says he’ll come to my wedding.” She feels Dellon’s body slump against her back, and she realizes she said what she did just to feel that slack sadness in another person. She’s the only one who will still say their brother Gabriel’s name.
“Leave her alone,” Millie says, shifting her heavy kettle onto the stove. “Getting married’s not what it’s cranked up to be. What time you bringing Baby Dellon back?”
“Tomorrow noon, if we’re not too hungover.”
“I’m going to kill you one of these days.”
“I’m not Baby Dellon, I’m Batman,” says Baby Dellon, and they are out the door.
“I’m going to kill him one of these days.”
“He’s a good dad,” Annawake says, setting the table back on its feet, wondering if it might give itself a dignified shake and walk off, like a turtle. “He won’t be drinking at a stomp dance. He wouldn’t even get into the stomp grounds if he was.”
Millie laughs. “Did you ever hear what happened on our first date?”
“You went to a stomp dance.”
“That’s how Dellon tells it. If I told you the real story he’d shoot me.” Millie leans against the counter, smiling. Her bunched print skirt hangs down from her waist like a dust ruffle on a bed. She brushes crimped wires of hair from her eyes, and Annawake knows she’s going to tell the story.
“We were up in the mountains and it was hot, and Dellon wanted to have a beer. I knew there was the dance that night so I wasn’t going to drink, but he did anyway. We had a fight, and later on we both went to the dance, but not together. I was in the inside circle wearing the turtle shells, so here comes Dellon, dancing right in the next circle, trying to get my eye. Next thing I hear him say, ‘Uh-oh, here comes the fuzz.’ Ledger tapped him on the shoulder and he had to leave. He’d just had one beer, but Ledger knew. He can spot it a mile away.”
“Tell me about it. I lived through most of my teenage years under Uncle Ledger’s eagle eye.”
“But you had nothing to worry about, you were Miss Perfect,” Millie says, wagging her stirring spoon at Annawake.
“Well, of course. I never had a chance.” Annawake knocks back her soda.
“You had to make up for your wild brothers,” Millie says, grinning. “I should have known right there and then not to marry him.”
A Mason jar on the counter at Millie’s elbow is crammed with daisies and wild phlox the kids have picked by the road somewhere; Annawake reaches for the jar and sets it in the exact center of the table. “I think he wishes you’d trust him more with the kids.”
“I trust him. But you still have to tell him what to do.”
Millie’s youngest, Annie, all big dark eyes and belly, stands naked in the doorway. Annawake jumps up from her chair. “Whoah, let’s get a diaper on you, baby doll, before we get puddles.”
“It’s okay, I decided to get her started on potty training today. Figured it’s easier to let her run around that way. Put her out in the yard every hour, like a pup.”
“Millie!”
“I’m kidding. Annie, go show Annawake your potty.”
Annie disappears.
“You’re not going back to the office, are you? On Third Saturday?”
Annawake sighs. “I’m thinking about it. There’s this wild goose I’m chasing down. An illegal adoption.”
“Forget it. Whatever it is will keep.”
“I don’t know.”
Annie reappears in the door with a stuffed bear twice her size. “Pa-pa,” she says.
“You better learn the difference between a teddy bear and a potty seat,” Millie says. “Your time’s about up as baby of the family.”
Annie drops the bear on its head and climbs onto Annawake’s lap. Annawake laces her fingers together over the child’s naked belly, which has the rubbery firmness of a hard-boiled egg. “Dellon hates it when I bring up Gabe,” she tells Millie’s back.
“Don’t make fun of Annawake’s job, Dell,” Millie says, turning her back on them, running water into a big aluminum kettle. The sun shining through her shocked hair reveals the perfect globe of her skull.
“I never make fun of Annawake. She’d beat me up.”
“Dad, let’s go.” Baby Dellon, who is almost six and hates to be called Baby Dellon, runs into the kitchen with a football helmet on.
Dellon stands up and puts a hammerlock on Annawake’s neck from behind. “When you getting married, beautiful?” he asks.
“When Gabe says he’ll come to my wedding.” She feels Dellon’s body slump against her back, and she realizes she said what she did just to feel that slack sadness in another person. She’s the only one who will still say their brother Gabriel’s name.
“Leave her alone,” Millie says, shifting her heavy kettle onto the stove. “Getting married’s not what it’s cranked up to be. What time you bringing Baby Dellon back?”
“Tomorrow noon, if we’re not too hungover.”
“I’m going to kill you one of these days.”
“I’m not Baby Dellon, I’m Batman,” says Baby Dellon, and they are out the door.
“I’m going to kill him one of these days.”
“He’s a good dad,” Annawake says, setting the table back on its feet, wondering if it might give itself a dignified shake and walk off, like a turtle. “He won’t be drinking at a stomp dance. He wouldn’t even get into the stomp grounds if he was.”
Millie laughs. “Did you ever hear what happened on our first date?”
“You went to a stomp dance.”
“That’s how Dellon tells it. If I told you the real story he’d shoot me.” Millie leans against the counter, smiling. Her bunched print skirt hangs down from her waist like a dust ruffle on a bed. She brushes crimped wires of hair from her eyes, and Annawake knows she’s going to tell the story.
“We were up in the mountains and it was hot, and Dellon wanted to have a beer. I knew there was the dance that night so I wasn’t going to drink, but he did anyway. We had a fight, and later on we both went to the dance, but not together. I was in the inside circle wearing the turtle shells, so here comes Dellon, dancing right in the next circle, trying to get my eye. Next thing I hear him say, ‘Uh-oh, here comes the fuzz.’ Ledger tapped him on the shoulder and he had to leave. He’d just had one beer, but Ledger knew. He can spot it a mile away.”
“Tell me about it. I lived through most of my teenage years under Uncle Ledger’s eagle eye.”
“But you had nothing to worry about, you were Miss Perfect,” Millie says, wagging her stirring spoon at Annawake.
“Well, of course. I never had a chance.” Annawake knocks back her soda.
“You had to make up for your wild brothers,” Millie says, grinning. “I should have known right there and then not to marry him.”
A Mason jar on the counter at Millie’s elbow is crammed with daisies and wild phlox the kids have picked by the road somewhere; Annawake reaches for the jar and sets it in the exact center of the table. “I think he wishes you’d trust him more with the kids.”
“I trust him. But you still have to tell him what to do.”
Millie’s youngest, Annie, all big dark eyes and belly, stands naked in the doorway. Annawake jumps up from her chair. “Whoah, let’s get a diaper on you, baby doll, before we get puddles.”
“It’s okay, I decided to get her started on potty training today. Figured it’s easier to let her run around that way. Put her out in the yard every hour, like a pup.”
“Millie!”
“I’m kidding. Annie, go show Annawake your potty.”
Annie disappears.
“You’re not going back to the office, are you? On Third Saturday?”
Annawake sighs. “I’m thinking about it. There’s this wild goose I’m chasing down. An illegal adoption.”
“Forget it. Whatever it is will keep.”
“I don’t know.”
Annie reappears in the door with a stuffed bear twice her size. “Pa-pa,” she says.
“You better learn the difference between a teddy bear and a potty seat,” Millie says. “Your time’s about up as baby of the family.”
Annie drops the bear on its head and climbs onto Annawake’s lap. Annawake laces her fingers together over the child’s naked belly, which has the rubbery firmness of a hard-boiled egg. “Dellon hates it when I bring up Gabe,” she tells Millie’s back.
