A Mother's Love
Shelly Campbell held her three-month-old son, Ethan, securely in her arms as she rocked back and forth and softly hummed a lullaby. When her precious infant, at last, fell asleep, she placed him in his crib, turned on the nursery monitor and tiptoed out of the room, gently closing the door behind her. The young mother glanced at her watch; she had only fifteen minutes to get dressed before her guests were due to arrive.
Her husband, Liam, had invited the senior partners of the advertising firm for which he worked for cocktails and dinner. Liam had just been appointed account executive for the firm's largest client, and he wished to express his gratitude to his bosses. You did not get ahead in the highly competitive world of advertising, he told his wife on more than one occasion, without learning one important lesson: a little ass kissing now and then often paid off in the long run.
In the seven years since she and Liam Campbell became man and wife, Shelly capably arranged many such dinner parties for clients and bosses alike; but the birth of their son brought additional responsibilities and took a good deal of her time. Shelly put on a turquoise Mandarin-style silk dress, and then she hastily arranged her long black hair in a single braid that she wore over her right shoulder. After applying her makeup, she took a quick peek in the nursery to check on Ethan, before going down to the dining room to make sure the food was being kept warm in the chafing dishes.
Everything was right on schedule. The buffet dinner was ready, and the bottles of wine were chilling in the ice buckets. She placed the receiver of the nursery monitor on the dining room table near her wine glass and turned up the volume. Thus, she would be able to hear, even over the dinner conversation, any noises Ethan made in his crib.
Her husband's Lexus pulled into the driveway promptly at 6:30, soon followed by the Kingsleys' Mercedes and the Parkhursts' Audi. Waiting at the open door, Shelly warmly welcomed her guests, and Liam prepared a round of cocktails.
"What a lovely dress, Shelly," Arlene Kingsley complimented her hostess. "I've always loved Chinese clothing."
"And how is your little boy?" Frieda Parkhurst inquired. "He must be three or four months old already."
"He was three months last Tuesday. Right now, he's upstairs sleeping soundly."
"Oh, I had hoped to get a chance to hold him. Maybe next time."
"I'm sure he'll wake up before the evening is over. Then I'll bring him downstairs and let you hold him if you'd like."
"You'll have to excuse Frieda." her husband, Seymour, teased. "She is suffering from the unfulfilled desire to be a grandmother."
"By the time our son marries and gives us grandchildren, I'll be too old to enjoy them," Frieda remarked.
"That's how Arlene used to feel, too," Emmett Kingsley laughingly declared. "Now it seems every year one of my daughters or daughters-in-law is pregnant. We've got six grandchildren already and two on the way."
"Mommy."
"What was that?" Shelly asked her husband.
"What was what?" Liam replied.
"That voice. I thought I heard someone calling 'Mommy.'"
She picked up the nursery monitor and held it to her ear.
"Come on, Shelly. Don't tell me you honestly believe our three-month-old son is calling you 'Mommy' already," he taunted his wife. "I'm afraid you're going to have to wait a year or so for him to talk."
"Don't make fun of her, Liam," Seymour Parkhurst advised. "New mothers tend to be very protective of their young. Frieda used to check on our son seven or eight times a night, just to make sure he was still breathing."
"Shelly knows I'm only kidding her," Liam said and affectionately hugged his wife. Then he turned to his guests and asked, "Can I get anyone another drink?"
Meanwhile, Shelly passed around a tray of hot hors d'oeuvres.
As usual, the three men then broke off into a separate group to discuss business while the women chatted about the trials and tribulations of keeping a house and raising children. It was hard for Shelly to follow the conversation, for her ears were straining to listen for any sound that might come from the baby monitor.
While Arlene was offering her opinions on the problems facing today's adolescents, Shelly again heard a faint voice calling "Mommy."
It was spoken so softly that she thought it might be her imagination.
"Would you ladies excuse me a moment?" she asked and ran upstairs to check on Ethan.
Relieved to see that her son was still sleeping peacefully in his crib, Shelly returned to her husband and their guests, who were by now beginning to get hungry.
"Let's go into the dining room, everyone," Liam announced, "where I'm sure my wife has prepared an exquisite feast."
"And if my memory serves me correctly," Emmett Kingsley declared, "your dear wife is an excellent cook."
"Oh, no! There goes my diet," Arlene groaned when she saw the wide variety of dishes Shelly had prepared.
Everyone filled their plates and then sat down around the dining room table and continued their conversations over dinner.
"Mommy!"
The voice was louder, more insistent.
"Doesn't anyone hear that?" Shelly asked excitedly, unintentionally interrupting Mrs. Kingsley's comments about the upcoming Democratic convention.
"No, Shelly, we don't," Liam replied firmly, obviously becoming annoyed with his wife's preoccupation with the baby. "You've checked on Ethan, and he was fine. You've also got the monitor right there in front of you. If he wakes up and starts crying, you'll hear him."
The guests looked somewhat embarrassed by Liam's impatience with his wife. Emmett broke the uncomfortable silence and attempted to smooth things over by picking up his plate and complimenting, "That baked ziti is even better than my mother's. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm going to have a second helping."
"Mommy!"
The voice was now an urgent cry. But where was it coming from? It sounded like it was emanating from the baby monitor's receiver, but that was impossible. Even if Ethan were awake, a three-month-old baby was incapable of speaking.
As the dinner went on, Shelly found it increasingly difficult to carry on a normal conversation. A sense of foreboding, brought on by that eerie voice, preyed on her mind.
"Shelly ... Shelly?"
"I'm sorry, Frieda, what did you say?"
"I asked what seasonings you used on the shrimp. It's delicious."
Liam was giving his wife a dirty look from across the table. No doubt, the two of them would have an argument after their guests left at the end of the evening.
"It's a blend of cumin, paprika and cinnamon. It gives the shrimp a kind of Caribbean jerk flavor, don't you think?"
"I'll have to remember to get your recipe before we leave," Frieda said, helping herself to another plate of shrimp.
"It's very easy to make," the hostess said.
"Mommy, please!"
Shelly knocked over her glass, nearly spilling her wine in Mrs. Kingsley's lap.
"Forgive me, Arlene," she apologized, on the verge of tears.
"No need to worry, Shelly. Here, let me help you clean up the mess."
Shelly did not bother to look at Liam. She already knew he was not happy, but frankly, like Rhett Butler so eloquently told Scarlett O'Hara, she didn't give a damn!
When everyone finished eating, the hostess stood up to get the coffee pot.
"Would anyone prefer decaf or tea?"
"I'll take decaffeinated, dear," Frieda answered. "Regular coffee always keeps me up most of the night."
"Help me, Mommy."
Shelly's hands were shaking as she prepared Mrs. Parkhurst's coffee.
Am I going crazy? she wondered.
No one else had heard a thing.
Liam joined her in the kitchen, with a pile of dirty dinner plates in his hands.
"What's the matter with you tonight?"
"I keep hearing that child's voice, and now it's calling for help!" she insisted, tears falling from her eyes.
Liam put the dishes down on the counter.
"It's no wonder you're hearing voices. Ever since the baby was born, you haven't had a full night's sleep," he said more gently. "Try to relax. You're tired and overwrought. Don't let your imagination play tricks on you. Ethan is just fine."
Shelly nodded her head but felt no relief from her nagging worries.
"Liam, grab the pie, will you? I've got my hands full."
"Here's dessert," she announced cheerfully, as she and Liam returned to the dining room. "We have coconut cream pie, carrot cake and apple crisp."
She filled her guests' coffee cups and then placed the creamer, sugar bowl and packets of artificial sweetener on the table.
"Carrot cake, honey?" Liam asked, passing her a generous slice.
Shelly smiled graciously at the praises her guests heaped upon her.
"Thank you. I'm glad everyone enjoyed the meal," she responded humbly. "Mmm ...," she said, taking a bite of her cake. "I think the best part of carrot cake is the cream cheese frosting. You know," she confided to her guests, "I actually licked the bowl and beaters when I made it."
The young mother was just beginning to relax when she heard the voice again.
"Mommy, help me, PLEASE!"
She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the voice.
"It's me, Mommy—Ethan."
Shelly could not take it any longer and jumped up from her seat.
"Ethan," she cried, "Mommy's coming, sweetheart."
She ran from the room, without a word to her anyone. Liam followed her up the stairs.
"Come back here. We have guests."
"Go to hell, Liam. My son needs me."
She ran into the nursery with Liam fast on her heels, trying to grab her by the arm. What they saw made them both stop dead in their tracks. A young child, about five years of age, stood beside the crib, pointing to the baby.
"Help me, Mommy," the little boy cried.
Shelly ran to her son. The baby's mobile, which had been attached to the side of the crib, suspending the moving figures over the baby, had somehow fallen on the sleeping infant. Ethan had put one of the toys in his mouth, and his tiny face was already turning blue.
"He's choking," she cried.
Liam ran forward, turned his son upside down and hit him on the back. Ethan spit out the toy and started breathing again. As the frightened parents hugged and kissed their child and each other, they looked at the strange little boy with gratitude and curiosity.
"Thank you, Mommy, ... Daddy," the child said, looking from one to the other, and then he vanished before their startled eyes.
"Ethan," Shelly whispered in wonder, as she reached her hand out to touch the empty air where the child had stood.
Liam and Shelly Campbell turned to stare at each other, not fully comprehending the miracle they had just witnessed. Then Liam held his wife close and kissed the baby lovingly on his forehead.
"I'm sorry I acted like such a horse's ass tonight," he apologized. "I promise you one thing, sweetheart. I'll never underestimate the power of a mother's love again."
Bet you can't guess which one is the bigger baby!
