“Yes, Cassie, I am.”
“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” she followed sharply, her eyes narrowing. “There are so many ways to confirm a pregnancy earlier.”
I suddenly felt as if the table had been spun around, and Cassie was the mother and Mother was the daughter. When Mother didn’t answer, Cassie continued, “Why didn’t you let us know you were both thinking of having another child?”
Mother looked at Daddy. They both seemed flustered.
“We weren’t … it wasn’t something we were sure we … what difference does that make?” Daddy shouted. “We’re telling you how things are now.”
“Obviously,” Cassie replied. “But why didn’t you decide to do this years ago?”
“The truth is, Cassie, I’ve been trying to get pregnant for some time now. I’ve been to see fertility doctors and specialists, and finally, something has worked,” Mother told her softly. She smiled. “With the two of you young adult women now, things will actually be much easier. You can help me take good care of the new baby, be like two little nannies. When you’re able and free, of course,” she added.
“Why shouldn’t we be able and free?” Cassie retorted.
“Oh, you both will have your own busy lives, I’m sure. Actually, I’m not worried about it. It’s a good time for me. I look forward to it,” Mother added. She smiled at Daddy and took his hand again. “Of course, we’re hoping … we’ll soon know whether or not … if …”
“If it’s a boy,” Daddy said, smiling. He turned to Mother, and they looked at each other as if they were alone and both twenty years younger.
“We’ve already decided we will name him Asa. Nothing would please your father more,” she told us.
They continued to look at each other with such love and gratitude that it brought tears to my eyes. I glanced at Cassie. She looked as if she would set the house on fire. She jerked her eyes toward me and I looked down quickly. Later, she told me our parents had no idea what they were getting themselves into, what they were getting us all into.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Why do you say that?”
“This world we’re in will be turned topsy-turvy,” she said, “so get ready to stand on your head.”
Then she marched off to her room and shut the door.
Which reminded me of Cassie’s Third Commandment: Don’t ever do anything to make her unhappy.
However, Cassie wasn’t wrong. No matter what I thought about her and what I think about her now, she really wasn’t wrong very often. Our house and our lives did start to change, but I didn’t think they went topsy-turvy. On the contrary, to me, it was as if a brand-new sunlight was streaming in through our windows, lighting up the dullest corners, brightening colors, and making furniture and artifacts sparkle. I think Mother thought that, too, because she went about the grand house as if she were seeing it for the first time. During the next two months, she changed the arrangement of some furniture and worked harder at polishing and vacuuming and having Cassie and me polish and vacuum. She had window cleaners and rug cleaners, painters doing touch-ups. She bought new lamps and even some new kitchen appliances, and took more interest in our landscaping.
“Why is all of this suddenly so important? She acts as if the new Messiah is coming,” Cassie muttered.
I nodded, not because I, too, saw it as being over the top but because I saw it as wonderful. Cassie looked at my face and added, “She’s being ridiculous, behaving like some newlywed. If all of these things had to be done, why weren’t they done for us as well?”
“Maybe they were,” I dared to suggest. She pursed her lips and pulled back her head. “I mean, right before you were born and then right before I was.”
“Nothing was changed then, Semantha. Daddy used to think this house was as sacred as a church. You know how he feels about our family’s history. Most of it is exactly as it has been for nearly eighty years. No new bride, no matter how she was supposedly loved, would dare interfere with that. We are the Heavenstones!” she declared, as if that explained everything.
“Oh,” I said.
Of course, I thought then, Why is Daddy permit
ting her to do all of this now? But I didn’t dare ask. I didn’t have to ask. Cassie was prepared to give me an explanation.
“Men,” she continued in one of her loud whispers, “can suddenly become boys so easily and quickly that it would make your head spin. Their wisdom evaporates,” she added with such confidence. It was as if she really was older than our parents, growing up so quickly that she had passed them by years ago. “They get so infatuated with their women that they’ll fall over themselves trying to please them. Women are stronger when it comes to that sort of thing,” she said, nodding. “You don’t see as many making fools of themselves when they’re older. There are some who do, of course, but not as often as men.”
How do you know all this? I wanted to ask her. You never go out on a date. You’ve never had a boyfriend or, as far as I know, even had a crush on a boy. Did you learn it all from books? I didn’t ask these questions, because I was sure she would see it as some disagreement, and I didn’t want to do anything that would bring unhappiness into our home right now. Even I, who didn’t know half as much as Cassie knew about the emotional and physical changes a woman goes through when she is pregnant, could see that Mother was often on the verge of tears for what looked to be no real reason whatsoever.
“We simply have to hope Daddy comes to his senses and reins in this wastefulness and unnecessary expense,” Cassie concluded, but everything went contrary to what she hoped, especially when Mother and Daddy were told there was no questions about it: she was going to have a boy.
When they came home that day, it was as if they had won the biggest lottery. Daddy was practically floating, and Mother’s face was so radiant she really did look twenty years younger. They talked about having a party to celebrate but agreed to be cautious and wait.
However, they now decided they were going to renovate one of the upstairs bedrooms to create Asa’s nursery. Not only were carpenters, electricians, and plumbers brought in, but Mother decided, with Daddy’s approval, of course, to hire an interior decorator.
“An interior decorator for a baby’s nursery!” Cassie cried when she heard about it. She came rushing into my bedroom one Saturday morning to tell me.