Free Me and My Baby View the Eclipse by Lee Smith Page B

went back to Richmond at all, just moved into his trailer on Guesses’ Fork, and Uncle Earl and Aunt Adele never said a word because he had gone to Princeton.
    I tried to steer clear of Lucie, she made me nervous as I said. She had this way of squinting her eyes when she looked at things, you never could tell what she thought or what she might take it into her head to do next. Such as live in a trailer with a VISTA when everyone knew it. I was so embarrassed. But Lonnie surprised me too, he said it was none of my business. I couldn’t get over it—there was none of that between
us,
you can be sure, until we got married. Lonnie said I drove him crazy and especially my breasts, but I said no handling the merchandise! So it made me uneasy that summer the way they carried on.
    And then the night of the Moon Landing they asked to come over to watch it on our TV, Doug naturally not having one in that trailer. It was so hot. It must have been ninety that day, and the heat never slacked off at all as night came on. I had fixed a big dinner for everybody—fried chicken and potato salad, even Lonnie would have to tell you I’m a good cook—but then after all that I got so hot I had to lay in the bathtub in the cold water for a while I felt so tired. My stomach stuck up round and white above the water where I lay, I could see the baby moving around in there. I could hear them all in the living room—Lucie and Doug and Lonnie—talking and laughing, I could hear the TV. I felt like I was miles and miles away. By the time I got out there I could see they had all had several drinks of bourbon, which Doug had brought over. Lonnie fixed me one too and I sipped along to be sociable, but it was ten o’clock before we ate and eleven o’clock before the astronauts reached the moon. Right before that, when I was in the kitchen straightening up, Lucie came in and splashed cold water all over her face. I had noticed she didn’t eat much, so I asked her how she felt.
    â€œWell,” she said, “June, I might as well tell you.” Lucie’s eyes were dark and shining even with all the makeup washed off.
    â€œTell me what?” I was not so sure I wanted to know.
    â€œI’m pregnant,” Lucie said. “Me too.” She looked absolutely delighted.
    â€œAre you sure?” I asked. “Did you take a rabbit test yet?”
    â€œNo, but I’m
sure
,” Lucie said. “I can just tell. Isn’t it wonderful?”
    â€œWell”—I had to sit down in a chair—“I guess it is, if you’re going to get married, I mean.”
    Lucie looked fifteen years old with her dark hair curling around her face.
    â€œI haven’t decided,” she said.
    She didn’t get married either, as it turned out, at least not to Doug Young. She had Tommy all by herself in Washington, then sent him home for a year for Aunt Adele to raise while she got some other degree, and then she sent for him and after a while she married the professor she’s still married to now. Aunt Adele kept on teaching piano that year and hired a high school girl to look after Tommy. Aunt Adele was just fine except for the occasional migraine.
    But you could have knocked me over with a feather the night of the Moon Landing when Lucie said
that
. I didn’t even have time to answer because here was Lonnie at the kitchen door saying, “Come on, girls, they made it!” and grabbing me up with a big kiss so we had to go watch.
One small step for man, one large step for mankind
. It reminded me of that game Lucie and I used to play, Giant Step. It didn’t seem any realer than that, them in their space suits like snowmen, walking around on the moon.
    And then of course the next morning you found out that Teddy Kennedy was driving around with Mary Jo Kopechne at exactly the same time, but it was the day after that before it really hit the news. Now I wonder, did Mary Jo Kopechne think