A rusty mailbox with partially deflated pink balloons attached told me I was at the right house. The crusher-run driveway was almost grown over with weeds. I pulled in slowly, dodging the rotting timbers, dented tire rims and other debris along the side of the drive. I parked next to the tall grass growing up around the school bus.

I was careful where I stepped on the decayed porch. I knocked on the screen door and watched a strange bug crawl up the mold on the siding. Kayla was cheerful when she opened the door, saying, “Hey, Sam!”

I entered a small living room with three deer head on the wall and a big-screen TV. Three bare wall studs were between the kitchen and the laundry room – studs with nails where clothes from the dryer were hung.

Four ladies sat at the kitchen table. There was Lori (the 'shower' girl), a teen-looking girl next to Lori, Kayla (the hostess), and an ancient woman with scraggly silver hair. I stepped inside and waited for introductions, but that formality was overlooked. After a few seconds I said, "Hey, y’all. Where would you like me to set the gift?"

"Oh, just hand it to Lori. She's opening 'em."

I handed the gift to Lori, and she proceeded to pull the pink tissue paper from the bag. I stood for long seconds and finally said, "Is it okay if I sit here?" There was an empty chair near the table so I pulled it up with the rest. Lori was gracious and happy as everyone 'oohed and awed' at the peach-colored baby sleeper. I made conversation. “Oh, baby girls get so much pink; I thought I’d get something different.” "So when is your baby due?" "Have you been feeling okay?"

A woman walked into the kitchen with a baby on her hip. She was Kayla's mother (age 37 - Kayla is 20). The baby on her hip was a grandchild from an absent mother, though I never did figure out who the mother was. "Oh, she’s a crack baby," announced Kayla.

I said, "Well, she looks happy and healthy so far."

Kayla continued, "Yeah, her mama took off with the daddy, and they got all into it."

The ‘silver’ lady sitting next to me was Kayla's grandmother (age 55 and great-grandmother to the crack baby). Kayla chuckled when her mama left the room and said her mama had just gotten married for the third time. She covered her mouth and laughed and said, “Her second husband was bi-sexual.” I said, “Kaaaayla!” She chuckled more, and said, “Well, it’s her fault. She knew it when she married him.”

I asked the young girl across from me if she goes to Pell City High School. "No, I don't go to school. I'm gonna get my GED."

"Well, good," I said.

She continued, "I can't sign myself into school since I'm only 17 and my mama lives in Indiana. My foster mother let me come down here but my mama has full custody o’ me."

I said, “Whoever is in charge of you here can get a Parental Power of Attorney and get you signed in."

The girl said, "Well, I just found out I'm pregnant, so I'm movin' back to Indiana.

"Are you happy about having a baby?" I asked. She said she was delighted and added that her boyfriend was not very happy since he’s “still in shock, but he'll be happy when he has time to come around.”

I couldn't take much more of that conversation and said, "Well, have y'all cut the cake yet?" They said sure, I could help myself - there's the cups over there if you want some Sprite. I got up and cut myself a piece of cake and poured a cup of Sprite.

“Anybody else want something while I’m still up?” I asked. The yellow cake had chocolate icing and no writing on top or picture of a baby and a stork – a simple 8 X 13 aluminum cake pan with foil over it – a cake Kayla had baked that morning for her friend’s shower.

Conversations at the table continued cheerfully as if (and it was) the norm. The end of the hour was nearing, and I realized I was the only invited guest who showed up.

I’ve been to baby showers where the ladies arrived donned in skirts and heels. The party favors were tiny crystal votive cups. The cakes were elaborately sculpted icing masterpieces with airbrushed storks and balloons. The mother-to-be sat in a chair adorned with pink satin and the gift pile rose halfway to the ceiling. The ladies at these ‘crystal showers’ are proper and affluent. They discuss their college students and their husbands’ promotions.

I began to reflect on the contrast of this baby shower. I don’t believe it has much to do with geography. In spite of the room, the cake, the ladies’ attire and crystal, there was no difference in sincerity. These ladies care for one another and don’t consider themselves better than or less than anyone else. They view life from a different window, but not one that’s less honest or one that’s pretentious.