Ginger and Laurel Ginger and Laurel | Page 10

William says, “Annie, are you sure you’re up for a short visit?”

On cue, Doris pulls back the cloth and presents Annie with the warm pan of sugar cake.

“For me? Thank you! Yes, y’all please stay!” Annie takes off her apron, throws it over the back of the same rocker, and closes the door.

Elizabeth notices the baby bundled on the bed and whispers to no one in particular, entranced,

“There he is, there’s the baby.”

William removes his hat, lays it on the kitchen table, and sits down in the only other chair across from Annie’s half eaten lunch. “Glad to see you’re taking better care of yourself, young lady. Emma had me worried.”

The baby begins making kitten-like noises as he awakens on the bed.

“The baby is waking up!” Abbie squeals.

Again, Doris, quiets her sister, “Shhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Do you and the baby need anything, anything at all?” William asked throwing his arms open wide.

“Thank you. No, we’re fine,” Annie answers over her shoulder as she goes over and picks up the baby. Gently rocking him, she returns to sit across from William at the table. All three girls converge behind Annie, hoping for a glimpse of the writhing, mewling child. Annie adjusts the baby’s blanket, fully exposing him, yet still cradling him in one arm. It’s warm inside. Without missing a beat, the girls congregate over her other shoulder.

“What name did you give him?” William asks.

“He ain’t got no name yet, I call him Boy,” Annie says. “He a powerful hungry boy, too…always hungry,” she says, rocking Boy side-to-side, staring at William.

“His eyes sho is pretty! Look, dey is green, Papa,” pronounces Doris.

Annie looks down into her infant son’s eyes. His face reddens in her gaze. Suddenly, Annie smiles at him. Boy is captivated by face time with his mother, for a brief moment forgetting his hunger, then he remembers food and begins rooting at Annie’s breast. William’s girls vie for closest beside the new mother and child, trying to see more of Boy, breathlessly commenting on his every movement and attribute, “Look at his tiny little feet…and his cute little mouth…and how he yawns and stretches…”

Annie looks up, finding William’s moist gaze, and their eyes lock for what seems an eternity but is only a brief sacred moment…and the six become one family.

“Who wants some of this delicious sugar cake?” Annie asks, now cradling her boy like a ten pound sack of sugar. Picking up a butter knife from the counter, she hands it to Doris.

Doris contains her excitement, making careful, even cuts in the cake, then distributing a piece to each of them. She gives Annie the first piece, “For the baby,” she says.