Louisiana Bigshot

“honey.”
    “Mama, I’ve got a car. I got it yesterday.”
    Miz Clara shushed her again, even seemed to be waving her off in impatience. After a century or so, she got off the phone.
    “What is it, Mama?” Talba winced at the whine in her voice.
    “Michelle’s hemorrhaging.”
    Talba tried to process it. The baby wasn’t due yet. “Did she go into early labor? Is she in the hospital?"
    “Blood just start coming; they thought it was her water breaking, but, no, whole lot of blood come out.”
    The significance of it hit her. Her brother Corey was a doctor. If he thought it was serious, it was serious. And if he called his mama, it was really serious. He’d normally wait till it was all over to do something like that.
    Talba pondered what it might mean. Only one thing, she decided. It had to mean he was scared to death.
    “Where is she?”
    “Baptist.” She meant Memorial Medical Center, where Corey was on staff. Before it got gobbled up, it had been Baptist Hospital; to New Orleanians of a certain age, it still was.
    “Let’s go,” Talba said.
    “I gotta put on my wig.” Miz Clara cleaned houses for a living. She liked to keep her hair in a near buzz cut. “Mama. Let’s go!” Talba was surprised at the urgency in her voice.
    Miz Clara hated the car, of course—couldn’t understand why Talba couldn’t get a nice comfortable Cadillac or maybe an Oldsmobile or something. She griped about it all the way to the hospital, which got under Talba’s skin so badly she nearly had a wreck on I-10.
    Her hands were sweating. It occurred to her that she was actually worried about her sister-in-law.
    Corey was in the maternity waiting room, pacing, his shaved head looking somehow dull, almost dusty.
I wonder if he shines it,
Talba thought. He said, “I wish they let you smoke in these places.”
    He’d never smoked in his life.
    Miz Clara’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle. “How is she, baby?”
    Talba would have given anything to have missed what followed. Her older brother the doctor, the successful one in the family, who had a big house in Eastover and the kind of car Miz Clara approved of, threw his arms around his mama and cried. “Oh, Mama, I’m gonna lose her.”
    Miz Clara’s moment of gentleness was over. She gave him a shake. “Shush up, boy! You are not.”
    He looked at her as if she were speaking Russian.
    “She’s a healthy young woman and she’s in good hands. Idn’t she?”
    Corey just stared.
    “Well, idn’t she?”
    “Yes, ma’am. She’s in good hands.”
    “And you know how to pray, don’t you?”
    He looked a little impatient at that but once more he said, “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Well, start doin’ it, son. Just as soon as you tell me what’s going on in there.” Her head jerked down the corridor.
    “I don’t know. They won’t tell me.”
    Talba thought,
Ah, so that’s what’s gotten to him. He’s out of control. He’s a doctor and he can’t do anything for his own wife.
    “Well, what’d they say? They musta’ said something.”
    “They said she was bleeding.”
    Miz Clara said, “Hmmph.”
    “And shocky. Her blood pressure was dropping.” He took in a breath and let it out. He spoke softly. “They said they thought they could save the baby.”
    “Well, then, they’ll save it.” Miz Clara’s face was set as if she could make the doctors mind her, like they were kids in a sandbox.
    “I don’t care about the baby.” Corey balled his fist. “I just want Michelle.”
    “’Course you want Michelle. And you gon’ get Michelle. They didn’t say they ‘thought’ they could save her, did they? That’s ’cause they know they can.”
    Talba’s palms were sweating; her heart was speeding again. She was catching Corey’s fear.
What’s Mama talking about?
she thought.
Does she really believe that?
    Corey looked a little calmer, though. He took off his smeared glasses and began to clean them. “Yeah. Maybe so. Maybe that’s what they meant.”
    Miz Clara looked around. “Where are her people?”
    Corey looked at the floor, avoiding her eyes like a child. “I didn’t call them.”
    “What you mean you didn’t call ’em, boy? They her people.”
    “I couldn’t face them, Mama. I couldn’t face them just yet.” Miz Clara crossed her arms and glared. Gentleness just wasn’t her forte.
    Corey spread his arms and this time looked her full in the face. His eyes were brimming. “Mama, I didn’t want them. I wanted you and