All six women sit in various chairs I’ve pulled into the parlor, hands folded in their laps like they’re afraid they might break something. Their accents aren’t as thick as Jim’s, but they sound every bit as Cajun.
The front parlor is awash in blue balloons, streamers, and tissue pom-poms complete with cutout elephants and vases of blue hydrangeas. A WELCOME BABY FRANKIE banner hangs from the balcony above the front porch and a two-tier cake sits on the kitchen table, which we dragged into the front parlor. Or back parlor. Whatever.
I serve blue raspberry punch from one of my great-grandmother’s big Limoges bowls. Mom’s cocktail peanuts and butter mints sit beside the silver tea service while several bottles of wine chill in crystal ice buckets. Mom and Lindsey and I are all in baby blue—Lindsey in a muumuu, Mom in a tracksuit, and me in a cotton sundress—and all of us in blue sequined headbands.
Mom sits on the chesterfield like she’s holding court while Raphael hangs upside down in his locked cage. Both he and Mom have behaved themselves so far, but I know how quickly that can change.
I might be a little out of practice, but I have organized both big and small events. I know how to be the event’s attraction and work behind the scenes. The first few years of Lulu, I did both at the same time.
Today I am hostess, photographer, and one-person waitstaff, thanks to the past ten years I’ve spent making people feel welcome and at ease. I put my skills to work, and by the time I get out the string for How Big Is Mommy’s Belly?, the ice is broken, and our guests are much more relaxed. We play Baby Shower Bingo, and I pass out little boxes of Godiva chocolate for prizes. Everyone wins something, but Jim is the big winner of Baby Grab Bag when he pulls out the boob bottle. His face turns red and he quickly leaves the room.
“He’s shy, him.” His mom shrugs.
His sister Janet Lyn explains further: “I don’ tink he’s ever touched a real boob in his life.”
A chorus of “Janet Lyn!” follows, and I suspect this isn’t the first time Jim’s middle sister has been inappropriate. There’s one in every crowd, and I cut my gaze to Mom sitting next to me, her lips Vermilion Vixen, sipping punch from a Little Peanut cup.
Lindsey’s cheeks turn the color of Mom’s lips, and I rise to my feet. “It’
s time for presents!” I place a chair for Lindsey in front of the fireplace and stack gifts at her feet. The first thing she unwraps is a blue-and-white blanket that Mary Sue knitted herself. It’s beautiful and warm at the same time. Most of the other gifts are practical, like diapers and baby shampoo, and I slip out of the room and into the library, where I’ve hidden the bassinet. I sit the little elephant from Mom in the bed and wheel it into the parlor.
When she sees it, Lindsey’s mouth drops open. “Oh my gosh!” She puts a hand to her chest, and her huge eyes get a little teary.
“I found that elephant,” Mom says. “It’s a good one.”
“Mom and I thought you could use a little cradle when you’re down here with Frankie.”
“Thank you.” Lindsey looks so happy I just might cry too. “Sorry, Frankie makes me emotional,” she confesses, and I hand her a Little Peanut cocktail napkin.
“Happens to everybody,” one of the aunts tells her. “It’s part of havin’ a bebe. Just you wait till labor starts, yes.”
Oh no.
“I was in labor fer five days,” the other aunt says, and, as if it were a starter pistol, the race is on for the worst birthing horror story.
“Junior tore me up good.”
“I ripped every which way.”
“Shana gave me back labor. I ’bout killed Bobby Karl.”
Wait for it, I tell myself.
“Lou Ann yanked out my uterus.”
And there it is. Mom doesn’t disappoint and smiles like she came in first place. Poor Lindsey looks horrified, but Mom isn’t done. “I almost bled out.”
“Who wants cake?” I desperately move behind the table as several hands shoot up.
“You wouldn’t think such a tiny thing could tear me up like that.”
“More punch?” I hold up an empty paper cup.
“But once I saw her little face, I couldn’t stay mad.”
That’s a nice turn.
“She was just the most precious thing. Delicate little face and all that dark hair. Lou Ann was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen.”