The life of Sandy Rose

Chapter 30: December 1926

"It's not something I can fix, Ron," Sandy said, as they sat in the restaurant. It was new to her, the largest she'd seen, with gilded walls and bright chandeliers and candles. She spotted a few film stars, but like she had been all her life, she had never really cared for them. She only felt better knowing her son was right here with her, in his pram, sleeping like an angel despite the big band playing and people chatting loudly. She rolled the pram gently, back and forth repeatedly to keep him that way.
They were waiting for his parents, who were late. An hour late. She was willing to bet that his brother and sister were going to make an appearance too.
And that wouldn't make his mood any better.
He sighed, suddenly looking at her. He removed the cigarette from his lips, holding it between his index and middle finger. He narrowed his eyes at her face.
"Do you have make up on, Sandy?" he asked of her.
"No," she frowned.
"Get your mirror out."
She reached into her purse, sifting through her things, until she found the compact mirror and opened it, peering at her face with a furrow of the brow. She didn't see what he saw, until she peered closer, seeing a red bruise on her cheek. She didn't want to tell him what it was.
It was him.
"Ron," she closed the mirror with a snap, putting her purse aside, "Should I go and cover it up? I don't want your mother to see, she'll say something, you know that."
Her husband grimaced, but dragged on his cigarette, not really looking at her anymore.
"Let her talk," he grumbled. She sat back, thinking him unbelievable. It was exactly how he was acting. She was sick of his mother's inquiries. They had last seen them a couple of months ago, when Sandy was six months along, and Paula had commented on how gaunt she was looking, as if Ronnie were starving her. She had wanted to slap her, but refrained. Perhaps, her husband would have encouraged her, but Sandy had some restraint. She wouldn't change that no matter how much someone tried her.

They came, sure enough with Richie and Suzanne, who looked like she didn't want to be there. Rings on every finger, like usual. Sandy was forever opening the paper and seeing pictures of Suzanne partying away.
"Is that him?" Paula gasped, peering into the pram and sighing, "He's precious."
Paula kissed Sandy's cheek. It felt like fire against her face, but Sandy just smiled, with as much kindness as she could conjure.
"You didn't even invite us to the christening, Ronald," Paula remarked, sitting beside Sandy after reaching in the pram and bringing the baby out. Sandy winced as the boy was shaken from his sleep. He whimpered, but didn't cry, turning his head to look for his mommy. Sandy bit her lip, clenching her fists beneath the table. Yet, she felt her husband squeeze her hand under the table, for reassurance, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. She looked at him. He was being oddly quiet.
"You wouldn't have come," he eventually said, raising his hand for a waiter.
"How do you know that?" Paula asked.
"Don't bother, Paula, he just wants to goad you on. He doesn't know what he's talking about," Richard said.
"Actually," Ronnie frowned, "I know exactly what I'm talking about. You never came to anything if mine, unless grandma made you."
"Guys, let's not do this," Richie said, looking desperate.
"Stay out of it, Rich," Richard commanded, making Sandy's heart skip a beat. She wanted to excuse herself before things got really heated, but she had been the one to make her husband agree to this. Paula had called and said that she wanted to get together, to see her grandson, but when Sandy had told Ronnie, he said only on the condition it was somewhere public.
Under the table, his hand moved to her thigh and she tensed, and as his father scolded him, his fingers gripped her flesh, digging in deep. It pinched and she jumped, squeaking.
They looked at her, confused. She bowed her head, embarrassed.
"Is everything ok, dear?" Paula asked.
"Yes," she said, nodding.
"Are you sure, Sandy?" Richie asked kindly.
"She said she's fine," Ronnie snapped.
"Ok, I think that's enough now," Paula piped up. She handed Ronnie Junior back to Sandy, "Let's get something to eat. Richard, what will you be having?"
Sandy buried her face in her son's tufts, sniffing deeply that lovely infant smell. His small fist clenched the bodice of her dress, tugging as if he was scared she'd give him away. She kissed the top of his head, rubbing his back. The sweetest love she had ever known was the one her son gave her. It was why she never wanted to part from him.
Her husband's hand moved from her thigh to grab his menu. She knew, even though he was staring intently at it, dark thoughts swirled in his mind. He wasn't really deciding what he was going to eat. Maybe he was thinking about all the other things he could be doing than this. The better things.
She would have reached out to console him, if her baby hadn't started to wail.
Sandy was startled by his sudden cry, rubbing his back to try and ease his sorrow, but he only cried louder, prompting others from different tables to stare. "Is he alright dear?" Paula asked.
"Is he hungry?" Suzanne questioned, "Babies are strange things."
"He's tired," Sandy answered, with a roll of her eyes.
She sighed, standing up and starting to carry him away, when her husband held onto her arm, "Don't take him outside, Sandy."
"I won't, I'll just be in the hall," she assured him, carrying her son there.
He quietened as soon as they got there, his head lolling against his mother's chest. She jostled him as she paced, even though he was fast asleep. She knew it wasn't right to wake a baby from its slumber. They needed it more than everyone.
She wondered if she could hail a cab or get Robert to take her home now. But she also knew that when her husband found she had abandoned him here, she would regret it. He had been especially moody today, but had hardy spoken to her, and for that, she was grateful.
She could spend time with her son.
She glanced at the phone a few paces from her and wanted to call someone. To rescue her from this insufferable dinner. But she had to get back.
She went back in, and felt the combined sound of people's voices, the band and plates and cutlery fill her ears again. She wasn't even hungry either.