by Lily Foster
The source of my nightmares? I wasn’t worried that Cecilia was pregnant with our child. Hell, I slapped on so much spermicidal jelly disguised as lube before we did it that I’m surprised we never slid across the bed and hit our heads against the wall. No, I was worried that she would be careless with Dick. I was not raising Dick’s child as my own—the thought of it gave me chills. But I also knew I wouldn’t throw Cecilia into the midst of an ugly scandal. After all, I’d basically given her cab fare, patted her head on the way out the door, and told her to go look for love and affection elsewhere.
I had a whole speech planned out. I barely slept last night, busy plotting, thinking about how I’d do this in a way that would inflict the least amount of pain possible. But the next morning I grabbed the wrong tablet on my way to the office. I swiped the screen to open it, ready to enter my passcode so that I could check emails as James drove. A series of texts between Cecilia and our friend Samantha Paulson filled the screen. I was thinking that it was careless of Cecilia not to have a security code protecting her information, especially since her phone texts were shared and clearly visible on her tablet. I probably would have ignored the exchange if I hadn’t seen her name. But I did see it, and with each text I understood just how shallow and insipid and hateful my wife had become.
Sam: Did you go to Kasia’s service?
CC: Hell no! Did you?
Sam: Of course not. Mel went.
CC: I’m not surprised.
Sam: Please, she hated that stuck up bitch just as much as I did. Mel actually sounded broken up about it when I spoke to her. Such a phony.
CC: Well, it is sad. I mean for the children and all.
Sam: Hmm…If I were you I’d be doing the cha-cha right about now.
CC: I do feel like dancing. Ding-dong the witch is dead, right? Seriously, we are so bad ;)
Sam: Did Dylan go?
CC: Yes…Little darling Anna felt the need to bring it up when the two of us had lunch with Margot yesterday.
Sam: Ouch.
CC: She’s still the same old see you next Tuesday. She made a point of rubbing her belly every other second, trying to make me jealous I guess. I’d love to see that girl get a taste of what she dishes out. I hope her baby is buck-toothed and cross-eyed, lol.
Sam: Not likely with that hot husband of hers.
CC: True…I’d love to fuck him. Especially if I could time it so that she walked in on us…JK ;)
Sam: Did you ask Dylan about the funeral?
CC: No. I’ve never even uttered that girl’s name aloud. I’m above that.
Sam: You are.
CC: He had his choice between the two of us and he chose me.
Sam: Class wins out over trash every time.
CC: Always has and always will. So, topic change…Who is that guy you were talking to at Mel and Jonathan’s house last weekend?
I tossed the tablet to the floorboards. I’d seen enough.
“Call Pete Wallace and ask him if he can get to my office sometime this morning.”
My next phone call was to my wife. “Let’s do lunch today.” She paused. It was Thursday after all; she had plans with Dick that needed cancelling.
“Can we do Lauderee downtown?”
“Meet me at the office and we’ll do the bistro on the corner. One o’clock,” I added before hanging up.
It’s not like I really needed to consult with my attorney. Cecilia and I signed pre-nuptial agreements, but I wanted to have a good understanding of my position before I went into this.
When she walked in, I could tell she’d taken extra care with her appearance. She always looked well put together, but today she was dressed to seduce: pencil skirt that nipped in at her waist, silk blouse that criss-crossed over her ample cleavage, and blood red Mary Jane heels that were anything but prim. Once upon a time that would have made me feel bad for her, but not today. I had every intention of being cordial and respectful, but I was not feeling especially sympathetic.
She was leaning in for a kiss and moving to sit her ass on the corner of my desk. “Hi babe.”
Before she made contact I gestured towards one of the chairs opposite my desk. My tone was curt when I said, “Have a seat.”
Cecilia looked at me expectantly. Her forehead probably would have wrinkled in confusion if it wasn’t for all the fillers and crap she religiously paid her dermatologist to stick her with.
“I’m serving you with divorce papers.” I forged on. “We’ve known each other a long time. I won’t make this difficult for you. I’d prefer we do this as quickly and amicably as possible.”
She sat stone faced for a moment before laughing. “Where the hell did this come from?”
“You’re not happy, admit it. I can’t possibly be making you happy, Cecilia.”
She swallowed, wide-eyed, shaking her head. “I love you, Dylan. I always have.”
I stood, jamming my hands into my pockets. “I can’t keep going on like this. I’m not happy, Cecilia.”
She shook her head again, looking away. “Is this some kind of early midlife crisis? Some fit of nostalgia about what could have been?” Her face reddened and her voice got louder. “Is this all because of her?”
“Who?” I asked innocently while I silently goaded, C’mon, say it…say her name. I could almost hear Cecilia’s teeth gnashing with the effort it was taking for her to remain composed. “Who are you talking about?” I repeated.
“That girl from Brooklyn, Dylan!” She said the name of the borough as if one could actually contract cooties from leaving the rarefied atmosphere of Manhattan. “You know,” she sneered, “the one you keep a picture of tucked between the pages of your favorite book?”
“You shouldn’t snoop.”
She threw up her hands. “Seriously? This is over a dead girl?”
I stared her down with a look I’m sure was murderous. “That’s right…Ding-dong, Kasia’s dead.” Cecilia’s mouth opened and closed two or three times without uttering a sound when I added, “And don’t worry, I won’t tell Anna you want to nail her husband. I’d hate to cause a rift between the two of you.”
She sank back further into the chair, defeated. Her tears came steadily now, and although I was disappointed and angry with her, the truth was I never wanted to make the girl suffer. And I had made her suffer—for years.
She whispered, “You can’t do this, Dylan. You can’t do this to me.”
“Please, Cecilia, think about it. Can you honestly tell me we have a good marriage? That this,” I gestured between us, “is good for either one of us?” She sat across from me speechless. “You deserve better than what I’m able to give you. I’m a lousy husband. I’m selfish. I really do want what’s best for you. I want you to meet someone who loves you more than anything.” I felt like a terrible shit when she gasped and let out a pained cry. “I want you to have children with a good man. I want you to have a family.”
She sobbed as she choked out her next words. “I want your child, Dylan. I want a family with you, no one else.”
I came around and sat on the edge of my desk in front of her, leaning down to hold her hands. “Cecilia, I love you. I love you for all the years you were by my side, all the times you were there for me, solid as a rock. But I don’t know if I’m capable of being in love.”
“You’re not in love with me.”
I didn’t say anything and my silence spoke volumes.
She nodded, looking away from me, and then got up to leave.
“Cecilia?” She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Von Essen isn’t good enough for you either. Do us both a favor and cut that guy loose.”
I don’t know what made me turn around at that exact moment, my focus should have been on Kasia’s oldest son. But I did, and I saw him.
What is it like? To have a man love you so much that he collapses into his grief? Dylan Cole was imposing, larger than life every time I saw him, but not today. Today he wept openly and his shoulders slumped, making him seem much sma
ller and more human. And it wasn’t just Dylan. Kasia had men throughout the course of her life who loved her with passion and devotion. You only had to hear Jake late at night in the kitchen, as I did every night, crying quietly when he thought no one else could hear.
It was more than saying goodbye to Kasia that left me feeling so utterly alone today. It was looking at my life in comparison to hers. Yes, her family was mine, but I couldn’t help but notice that while she was embraced by everyone she ever knew, I’d been thrown away more times than I could count.
And another move was on the horizon. Jake’s sister, Karolina, had subtly inquired about my plans. She wanted her old digs back and I couldn’t blame her. I knew she felt the need to be there for her brother and to be near her niece and nephews. I could live with Kasia’s parents, that would be the suggested plan, but I dreaded it. The thought of it made me feel needy, made me feel like an unwanted child.
I looked for them as we made our way out of the Church in our long, sad procession. Maybe my father had forbidden them. Maybe he stood blocking the doorway this morning. Maybe he slapped his wife’s face hard, shaming her into submission as he’d done to me on so many occasions. Or maybe my mother had just gone about her day, convincing herself and Olivia that saying goodbye to Kasia wasn’t important. The people they once knew as family long forgotten.
Their absence stung, left me feeling hollow and abandoned. It made my mind flit back and forth between the others who had cast me aside.
It’s not like I ever truly loved Larson, I understood that now, but his gentle rejection felt so terrible at the time. And I was just being ridiculous and feeling sorry for myself when my very first boyfriend came to mind. The one who got the snot beat out of him by my deranged father. He acted as if he didn’t know me from that day forward, and really, who could blame him?
There were family and friends packed into every corner of Jake and Kasia’s home, but today felt nothing like our usual get-togethers. The conversation was muted. There was laughter, but it was tinged with sadness. Faces were pale and drawn. The children sat in clusters in the backyard and in the living room, no running around or roughhousing like there usually was. Rachel sat alone in her bedroom for the entirety of the afternoon, reading a letter her mother had written to her over and over again. She answered, “No thank you,” formal and polite, when I tried to coax her into joining me for something to eat.
I felt out of place and unsettled, eventually giving up on any attempt to be social. Decamping to a quiet corner on the back deck, I sipped a glass of wine by my lonesome. As I drained the last drop from the glass, my aunt and my cousin Alex came out onto the deck. She was surprised to see me and looked back to Alex with a question in her expression. Standing behind her, he placed both hands on her shoulders to guide her forward. “No, she should be here. She’s going to be a part of this,” he looked up to me adding, “hopefully.”
Henry followed behind with a manila envelope in his hands and a beaming smile that seemed out of place on a day like today.
“Mama,” Alex began, looking over to Henry, returning his smile. “You know how you always say that angels watch over us?” She nodded, her expression curious. “Well this morning we got some news.”
“Kasia definitely had something to do with this,” Henry said as he opened the envelope and placed a picture of a very pretty woman on the table.
“This is an old friend of Henry’s.”
“We went to school together and spent our junior year abroad together in Lyon.”
Alex rolled his eyes playfully. “They dated.”
“We did,” Henry said, laughing. “Anyway, Nadine’s family was originally from France, and she wound up moving back there after we graduated. She’s a photographer.”
My aunt took Alex’s hand, looking back and forth between the two of them. “What does this mean?”
Alex squeezed his mother’s hand. “Nadine is having a baby.”
Henry added, “She’s been back in New York for work for the past few months so we’ve reconnected. She was just up in Rye last week with us looking at the new house. Anyway, the pregnancy wasn’t planned. The father isn’t interested in Nadine or in being a father.”
“And Nadine just accepted an assignment for a naturalist magazine that’s going to be shooting in South America.”
Now I was like my aunt, looking back and forth between them like I was at a tennis match. I blurted out, “You’re adopting her baby?” just as my uncle closed the sliding glass door behind him and joined us on the deck.
“Yes,” Alex said with tears in his eyes as he looked up to his father, who was also misty eyed.
My aunt looked skeptical. “She will do this? She won’t change her mind?”
“I never even brought up the idea of adoption to Nadine,” Henry said. “But I was secretly harboring fantasies,” he added, looking to Alex.
Alex reached for my hand, drawing me closer. “So this cannot be a coincidence, am I right? The other day, just hours after our Kasia passed, that’s the day Nadine decides to call us out of the blue and announce that she’s taken this lengthy foreign assignment—”
Henry cut him off, excited. “And did we ever consider becoming parents? Because she can’t think of any two people she’d want to raise this baby more than me and Alex!”
My uncle leaned down and grabbed the both of them into a crushing hug, as my aunt wept with a smile on her face. “Yes, this sounds like the work of our angel.”
I was overcome. So much love in this family, there always was.
Henry took another picture out of the envelope. “Nadine’s literally due in three weeks!”
It was the ultrasound. If this wasn’t a daughter they were expecting, then it was an extremely pretty boy. “It’s a girl,” Alex answered my unspoken question. “We’re going to name her Hyacinth.”
My aunt laughed. “Kasia would love that!”
“Why?” I asked. I mean, Hyacinth? I wasn’t sold on that name at all. If you were going for the whole, we’re florists so we’re naming her after a flower-thing, you could do Rose, Violet, Daisy, Lily…even Bluebell.
My uncle answered, “The first time Kasia made something on her mother’s sewing machine—”
“It was awful but we pretended that it was fantastic,” Alex interjected. “It was a skirt in some crazy fabric—”
My aunt laughed. “She took some old drapes that were rotting away in the basement.”
“The hem was all uneven and it had a bunched up elastic waist.”
“She couldn’t put a zipper in when she was nine, Alex,” my aunt chided.
“Anyway,” my uncle continued, looking to me, “Your mother gave her a medal of Saint Hyacinth.”
“Hyacinth was a he. And he,” Alex said, raising his eyebrows, “was the patron saint of hopeless circumstances.”
“It was a joke. Your mother was what?” my uncle asked, looking away from me to my aunt.
“Natalina was maybe seventeen?” She took my hand, a smile playing on her lips. “Your mother loved Kasia but she also liked to tease her. She told Kasia that Hyacinth was the patron saint of dressmakers, and if she kept the medal in a special place, that Saint Hyacinth would watch over her and make her a famous designer someday.”
“So Kasia took some of my dad’s industrial strength glue and fixed it to the sewing machine they gave her that Christmas.”
“I remember,” my uncle said, “because she also glued two of her fingers together that day.”
My aunt looked up to the heavens. “It’s still on that machine to this day, the little pink one that Rachel plays with.”
“Hyacinth,” I said to no one in particular. “I love it.”
“This is,” my uncle paused, wiping his eyes, “this is wonderful news.”
“Dad, I want to wait a little while to tell everyone else.”
“Yes, yes. Maybe too much on Jake and the children today…I understand.”
My aunt got up and kissed Alex on bot
h cheeks, then did the same to Henry. “I love you both. You will make the most wonderful parents.”
Henry had tears in his eyes. This must be bittersweet for him. While my aunt and uncle took basically a nanosecond to absorb the news when Alex came out, Henry’s parents died in a car accident before he ever got the chance to tell them he was gay. He told me it felt like he cheated them out of knowing the real him, who he really was. And it also made him sad because he’s not entirely sure they would have been accepting.
When it was just me, Alex and Henry left on the deck, Alex said, “So, for this crazy plan to work, we need some help.”
“From you,” Henry added.
“You know you two are like an old married couple, don’t you? You finish each other’s sentences.” I gasped with a sudden realization. “Does this mean you’re getting married? I could rock some awesome rainbow-themed arrangements for the reception.”
“Slow down,” Henry said, laughing. “And rainbow themed arrangements? Please, over my dead body…That would look awful.”
“We’re not getting married yet.” Alex looked to Henry. “But that day will come.” Settling back on me, he said, “We only have three weeks, Vee. It’s going to be crazy. I can’t ask Jake right now, so I’m going to be up in Rye with Michal and my dad every free minute getting the house somewhat ready. We need a nursery,” he said, beaming.
Henry added, “And once Hyacinth comes home, we’re going to be beyond busy.”
“You need me to babysit?”
They looked to one another before Henry looked back at me. “We want you to run the store for us.”
