“Why don’t we both do it?” Tammy voiced what they were both thinking and hadn’t said.
“Is that too weird? And I want to be sure there’s enough sperm for you,” Stacey said, but she could already see that there was more than they needed, even a lot more, just in case they spilled some. “There’s no point doing it halfway, we want this to work. My eggs are nine years older than yours. We have a much better chance of you getting pregnant.” They had known that for some time.
“You’re only forty-one. Women your age get pregnant all the time.”
“I know. I see the results in my practice. Half of the kids I see have mothers over forty now. Some of them have to work at it with IVF and hormones. I don’t know if I’m over the hill yet or not.” But her periods were as regular as Tammy’s.
“Let’s do it. That way maybe at least one of us might get pregnant. It could be you.” They hadn’t planned for that, and Stacey thought Tammy would handle it better. She couldn’t see herself nursing nine months from now. But she suddenly loved the idea of both of them doing it on their wedding day. “Should I do it to you?” Tammy asked her.
“I’ll tell you how. I can probably do it myself. Most women do, they don’t have a doctor to help them. It’s a very simple process. You just fill the syringe from the vial and shoot it up there.”
Stacey carried the vial into their bedroom, while Tammy laid two big bath towels on the bed, and they lay down next to each other, and pulled their nightgowns up. Stacey carefully filled two syringes to maximum capacity, and there was even a little more left over. She inserted the first one into Tammy, pushed the plunger, with Tammy’s pelvis tilted upward, and told her to lie there for a while. Then she used the second one on herself as Tammy watched. After that she used what was left for a little more in each syringe for a “top-up.” It was all done in a matter of minutes. Stacey put two pillows under Tammy’s hips and told her to lie still, and did the same for herself.
“It’s probably an old wives’ tale, but they say that helps with conception. It gets the sperm swimming in the right direction. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but why not try it? Let’s stay here for an hour to be on the safe side.” They both had their bottoms on pillows, and lay next to each other chatting excitedly.
“What if we both have twins?” Tammy asked her.
“Then I’m divorcing you immediately, and you’re on your own, kid.” She laughed too. “It’s taken me forty-one years to decide I could handle one. I’m not sure about two, but if we’re doubly blessed, I’ll deal with it and figure it’s God’s will. Four and I’m out of the picture. I know what we’re going to be dealing with. I see these little monsters every day. We won’t get a decent night’s sleep for the next ten years.”
“At least we’ll have our own in-house doctor. We won’t have to go to the emergency room every five minutes. When will we know if this worked?”
“A couple of days past two weeks, more like three. We can use a home test, and I’ll confirm it with a blood test.”
“This is so exciting, isn’t it? I hope we both get pregnant.”
“I think I hope so too,” Stacey said in a serious voice, and when they looked at each other, they were both crying. Their emotions were overwhelming. They lay next to each other and held hands for a while, and then Stacey leaned over and kissed her.
“This is the best day of my life, Tammy. Just because of you, even if this doesn’t work this time.”
“It’s the best day of mine too.”
There were no words left after that. They just lay next to each other, holding hands, thinking about what might happen.
Chapter 17
Kate was still floating on the cloud of the wedding the day before when she got up and made coffee on the morning of New Year’s Eve. She stood in her kitchen thinking about the girls and how happy they had been. It had really been a perfect day. Her phone rang as she was thinking about it, and she was startled when it was Scott. He was still so new in her life, and his calls were always a surprise.
“Hi? Where are you? In Vermont?”
“No,” he said, sounding disappointed. “There’s a huge storm in New England. The roads are closed. We had to cancel. I know this is very rude and last minute, but I thought I’d check in with you and see what your plans are for tonight.”
She laughed at the question. “Bed, my pajamas, and a movie on TV.”
“No champagne and popcorn?”
“I forgot them.”
He was sounding more cheerful by the minute. “If I provide the popcorn and champagne, and maybe a pizza, could I crash your party? Or will the bouncer stop me at the door?”
“Hmm…let’s see, I have to think about it. What kind of pizza?”
“You name it, and it’s yours.”
“Wow, that’s tough to resist.” She liked the idea of spending New Year’s Eve with him. She was really enjoying his company, although they had only had two dates so far, and one kiss. But the kiss had been first rate, and the dates were fun too. “Okay, you bring the pizza, maybe half mushroom, half margherita?”
“Or one of each. This is a big night.”
“Okay, so you get the pizza and popcorn. I probably have a bottle of champagne here somewhere, and I’ll talk to the bouncer and make sure that they let you in.”
“Fantastic!” he said, suddenly delighted that he hadn’t gone to Vermont. He’d rather spend the evening with her. “You sound very cheery by the way. What have you been up to since I saw you?”
“My oldest daughter, Tammy, got married yesterday. It was a really sweet wedding at city hall, and we had lunch afterward at La Grenouille.”
“Was that expected?” He sounded startled. “You didn’t mention it the other day.”
“No, it was kind of last minute and a surprise. But a very nice surprise. My mother and I were her witnesses. It all came off very nicely.”
“Do you like the groom?”
“Very much. I’ll explain it to you tonight when I see you.” She didn’t want to tell him over the phone. And she wouldn’t have told Bart at all. But she wasn’t ashamed of it now. She was very proud, and she wanted to tell Scott all about it. She wondered how open-minded he was, but she was about to find out.
“See you later. Are you seriously going to wear pajamas?”
“I was going to,” she said, happy with their plans.
“Well, don’t change anything for me. What time does the party start?”
“When you get here.”
“How about seven-thirty? We can eat early, and then start watching movies. We can get two in by midnight.”
“That’s perfect.” She was smiling and humming to herself as she put her coffee cup in the sink, and went to figure out what to wear that night. It had to be something a little cuter than pajamas. She hadn’t had a date on New Year’s Eve in ages. She had only spent it with Bart once in six years. He was always in the Bahamas as a houseguest, or on a friend’s yacht in the Caribbean, or skiing in Aspen with one of his kids, if they were around. They had never spent major holidays together. And she was excited to be spending the evening with Scott. It was a totally unexpected gift.
She found a pair of lounging pajamas that seemed right for the occasion, checked that she had a bottle of champagne, found two and put them in the fridge. She could make them a salad. Scott was bringing the rest.
He rang the doorbell at exactly seven-thirty after she had the doorman let him come up. He was carrying two shopping bags and two pizza boxes, and he kissed her on the lips before he started unpacking what he’d brought. He had a small tin of caviar on ice, with sour cream, lemon, and chopped egg. He had brought popping corn, and she slipped the pizza boxes in the oven to keep warm. She’d made the salad, and he had brought light-up necklaces and bracelets and sequined glasses with the year on them, and then he pulled out a pair
of pajamas with hearts. He had admired hers as soon as he saw them. They were very glamorous compared to his.
“Where can I change?” he asked as she laughed at him, delighted with everything he had brought. Pizza, caviar, popcorn, and champagne sounded fantastic. He had improved on the theme. She pointed him toward the guest bathroom, and he was back two minutes later in the pajamas with hearts. He looked half sexy and half Bozo the Clown. He had brought slippers with fleece and he was wearing them.
“You are the best date I’ve ever had for New Year’s Eve and the best dressed,” she said and meant it. “Thank you for the caviar.” She put it on a plate with the little mother of pearl spoons one was supposed to use. “This is so fun!”
They ate the pizza while it was warm, with the salad she’d made, and they both ate the caviar. He had decided he’d rather have red wine than champagne. They were saving that until midnight, and they sat at her kitchen table having a feast.
“So tell me about the wedding. Who did she marry? Was it a spur of the moment thing?” He wanted to know more about her kids. And she wanted to tell him.
“Yes, to all of the above. Do you remember I told you that our family had gone through a lot of changes in the last few months? Well, this was one of them. It actually started in July. It’s been a very unnerving five months. I’ll preface it by saying that pride cometh before a fall. I’ve always been very proud of my children. Great grades. Great schools. Terrific colleges. No problems with them. No alcoholics, no drug addicts, great jobs and careers, nice boyfriends. You couldn’t ask for better children. I’ve always said I have perfect children. So…this summer I got it right between the eyes. My youngest daughter started dating a client of the law firm where she works, which seemed like a bad idea to me, and I’m sure does to you too.”
He nodded. “It’s against policy at our firm,” he responded.
“Mine too. And hers.”
“Is he an asshole?”
“No, he seems to be a really nice guy, nicer than my daughter at the moment. Two months later, she announced to me that she’s pregnant, and refuses to get married. He wants to marry her, and she won’t. She thinks it’s an archaic tradition, and entirely unnecessary. Her brother and sister are furious with her, and so am I. The father is Reed Bailey, by the way.” Scott opened his eyes wide and looked impressed. “In any case, she’s refusing to get married, is knocked up, and is barely speaking to me, and hates me at the moment.”
“That’s your hate-you kid.” He smiled at her.
“Exactly. Meanwhile my son was engaged to be married this month to a seemingly lovely girl. Prominent, very social family. Debutante, not that it matters. Nice parents. Ridiculously elaborate wedding costing a small fortune, but the sort of girl parents think they want their sons to marry. I will confess that I was all for it, although I realize now that she’s not very bright, and very boring. But still, very proper. Meanwhile, he fell in love with a Puerto Rican Chinese lingerie model/actress from Spanish Harlem who he met at his gym and called off the wedding in September. I can live with that better than the baby out of wedlock. And while I was reeling from all that, my oldest daughter, a senior executive at Chanel and a really lovely person, told me that she’s gay and has been living with a woman for seven years, while I never suspected it for a minute. I was clueless. So first you have to wonder who the hell are these kids, really, and then what kind of mother am I that they pull all this shit, and I don’t know what’s going on. My youngest kid has no morals, and my oldest is gay and I had no idea.” He looked sympathetic as she told him all this over their pizza. It was a relief to tell him. “I’m not sure who I was madder at, them, or myself.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. This shit happens to people.”
“But all three of them? All at one time?”
“It sounds like you had a bitch of a summer.”
“I did. But I’ve come to my senses about some of it. As crazy as it sounds, I think my son did the right thing. I’ve met the girl, and she is perfect for him, and a nice person, smart as a whip and just got her degree from Hunter, at thirty. He’s being transferred to New Delhi in three weeks, and she’s going with him with my blessing, to try and further her acting career. She’s ambitious and works hard. They want to get married next summer, as I told you the other day. So much for the debutante. I guess she’s as dull as my other kids say. My son will have beautiful children with the new woman, but most of all, I think she’s the right woman for him. He lied to her and didn’t tell her he was engaged when they started dating. He was juggling both of them, trying to make up his mind, and when the Puerto Rican girl found out, she gave him a black eye. I’m against domestic violence, but I don’t blame her.
“I’m glad my oldest daughter finally had the guts to tell me the truth. I thought she was working too hard to date. The woman she lives with is remarkable, summa cum laude from Harvard, a pediatrician, Doctors Without Borders, and a really wonderful human being. Tammy’s been hiding her for seven years. I met her and I love her.
“They got married yesterday at city hall, and they want to have a baby. I was a witness at the wedding, and my mother was the other one. They decided three days ago to get married, so yes, it was a surprise, but not really. Not nearly the surprise it was when Tammy told me she’s gay. They have my blessing too.
“The youngest one, Claire, is in my black book at the moment. I don’t approve of illegitimate children, when there’s no reason for it, and I don’t think marriage is an irrelevant archaic tradition. I believe in it profoundly. So that’s what I did this summer. I got the shit kicked out of me by my kids. But at least two of them are in pretty good situations now. It’s not what I wanted for them, but their choices are right for them, and I respect that. The little one needs to have her ass kicked, and if her father were alive, he’d go berserk. So there it is.” Scott was staring at her as she told him the story of the last five months and he looked stunned.
“I repeat what I said to you the last time I saw you. You are an amazing woman. Any one of those situations would have unglued me while it was going on. It’s why I never wanted to have children. It would have killed me. I don’t know how you dealt with it, and three at once. Kate, you’re a saint.”
“No, I’m not,” she said fervently, “I’m a shit mother. My daughter has no morals, my son is marrying an underwear model instead of a debutante, and I had no idea my other daughter was gay, which she’s known since she was fifteen and she never told me, and I never noticed. What kind of crap mother is that?”
“A very human one, who is juggling five million balls in the air and three overactive kids. But you can’t do everything for them. I agree with you. Sounds as if your youngest should have her ass kicked, not because she’s knocked up, but because it sounds like she’s giving you a hard time, which you don’t deserve. All I can say is fucking Wow, Mrs. Morgan. You are one hell of a woman.” He leaned across the table and kissed her hard on the mouth. “Hats off to you. I think you’re the mother of the century. I probably would have bought a gun and shot them all. They are very, very lucky kids to have you. Not only did you survive all their shit, but you were open-minded enough to meet their lovers and boyfriends and girlfriends and partners, check them out, get to know them and reverse your opinion where appropriate. A lot of people wouldn’t do that. You’re giving your kids even more respect than they deserve, and they’d damn well better do the same for you.
“Funnily enough, I was going to ask you tonight if your kids would be upset that you’re going out with me, or about the difference in our age, which you seemed to care about and I don’t. But after hearing all that, I don’t give a good goddamn what they think. You need a break, and if they give you any shit about me, they can address their complaints to me directly and leave you out of it. They shouldn’t say a single word to you about anything you do, after what you put up with in the last five months. Kate, y
ou are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. I think you’re fantastic, and I hope your kids do too. If they don’t, they don’t deserve you.”
“How did I get so lucky? We took that crap case, against that asshole you represent, and hate too, and I wind up spending New Year’s Eve with a guy in pajamas with hearts on them, who brings me caviar and pizza and light-up jewelry and thinks I’m terrific. I hope I deserve you. Not only that, you bandaged my knees for me when I fell flat on my face.”
“I think we’re both lucky.” He smiled at her. “Now finish your pizza so we can watch a movie. And where do I find a pot to make the popcorn? It’s showtime.” She pointed him in the right direction for the pots and pans, cleared the table of their leftovers, and poured him another glass of wine.
The popcorn was ready a few minutes later and she poured it into a bowl, melted some butter to put on it, grabbed some paper napkins and his bottle of red wine, and steered him toward her bedroom to watch the movie.
“Where are all your kids now, by the way? Do they drop in on you?” He didn’t want to create trouble for her, or embarrass her.
“Never,” she answered his question about drop-ins. “They always call first and only come here when invited. I guess they’re all celebrating New Year’s Eve with their friends. Anthony is getting ready to leave for India, Claire is probably staring at her belly while Reed Bailey waits on her hand and foot. And the newlyweds are at their apartment, trying to get pregnant by a sperm donor.”
“You deserve a vacation. Or a year off, or something. Meanwhile you actually do great work at the law firm and always make perfect sense. I’d be drooling in a corner by now, sucking my thumb.”
Child's Play Page 19
