Thursdays At Eight

by Debbie Macomber

  I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed.

  “It goes without saying that you should never have more children than you have car windows.”

  —Erma Bombeck

  Chapter 15

  JULIA MURCHISON

  February 12th

  List of Blessings

  Hot baths and lavender soap and a matching cream that feels like silk on my skin. An early Valentine gift to myself.

  A full night’s rest—something I really appreciate now that I have difficulty sleeping.

  Attics.

  Heartburn medication.

  I was in for my monthly visit with Dr. Fisk, the OB-GYN who delivered both Adam and Zoe. We talked for almost fifteen minutes and probably would have spent more time discussing the pregnancy if she didn’t have such a tight appointment schedule.

  My attitude isn’t good. I’m making an effort, but so far it hasn’t really worked. My due date is September seventh. The ultrasound showed a healthy pregnancy; the fetus is developing normally. But I don’t remember the nausea or the heartburn being this bad with either Adam or Zoe.

  I might as well accept the fact that Peter and I are about to add another child to our family. I might as well assume that things will work out. I’m sick of worrying about how we’re going to manage, sick of thinking about the complications a baby is adding to our lives. Babies are expensive, and our finances are already strained.

  Peter has taken this pregnancy in stride—easy to do since he isn’t the one who’s pregnant. When the baby arrives, I’ll let my good-natured husband worry about finding day care. I’ll suggest he get up in the middle of the night to deal with the feeding and the constant needs of a newborn. Peter’s conveniently forgotten how demanding an infant can be, but he’ll remember soon enough.

  The kids know something is up. We can’t delay telling them much longer. Once again my husband has this rosy, unrealistic picture of how they’re going to react. I hate to disillusion him, but I know exactly what Adam and Zoe will say, and it doesn’t bear any resemblance to what he expects.

  Saturday, while Peter had Adam and Zoe with him, gallivanting from one sporting event to the next, I went to the attic. I can’t remember the last time I did that. What a mess. Obviously the kids have been up there.

  I sought out anything we could use for this baby. As I recall, we gave the crib, high chair and other furniture to my sister, but Peter was sure we kept the bassinet. If so, I didn’t find it. I looked everywhere, to no avail. There are no baby clothes to be found. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.

  We’ll have to start completely over. I simply don’t know how we’re going to afford all this. My shop’s income has dropped—it’s no wonder since I’ve had to close once or twice a week for doctor’s appointments and all these tests Dr. Fisk considers necessary. Thank God Peter has excellent health benefits.

  Nervous about confronting the children with news of her pregnancy, Julia took the chicken casserole from the oven and carried it to the table. She’d gone to extra trouble this evening, preparing a family favorite, accompanied by fresh green beans and hot rolls and followed by dessert.

  Julia insisted on family meals, although Adam and Zoe were involved in a number of school activities that often ran late. Getting everyone to the dinner table at the same time was becoming more and more of a challenge.

  “Dinner’s ready,” she called out when she’d finished. She stepped away from the table and waited for her husband and children to join her.

  Peter was the first one in the kitchen. His eyes met hers, and Julia read the question in his gaze.

  “Tonight?” he asked.

  Julia nodded.

  “How’d the doctor’s appointment go?”

  She shrugged. The appointment had been to discuss the ultrasound, and it had taken longer than she’d hoped. She was more than an hour late in opening the shop, which left her wondering how much business she’d lost. Or worse, how many people she’d irritated by not being there at the time posted. Between today and the two hours she was closed while she had the ultrasound on Monday, that was twice just this week.

  “You’re sure everything’s all right?”

  “Yeah.” He knew the ultrasound revealed no problems; she’d mentioned it earlier. Peter had been relieved and so, of course, was she. This whole situation was hard enough without worrying about Down’s Syndrome or spina bifida. Not that they’d know about that until she’d had the amniocentesis.

  “Adam. Zoe,” Peter yelled. “Dinner!”

  As though he was doing his parents a favor, Adam slouched into the kitchen. He’d shaved his head recently, and after a growth spurt the past summer, was an inch under six feet. He was lanky and awkward and painfully conscious of his new height.

  He pulled out his chair and fell into it. “I was on the computer,” he said, as if that explained the delay.

  “Where’s your sister?” Julia set the milk carton on the table next to the salad and the green beans.

  Adam raised his thin shoulders. “Her bedroom, last time I looked.”

  Peter walked to the hallway and shouted for Zoe again.

  The thirteen-year-old arrived a minute later, full of high spirits. “Sorry,” Zoe said, as she flew into the room. “I was on the phone with Ashley.”

  Ashley and Zoe were in constant communication. Julia’s own best friend when she was thirteen had been Kathleen O’Hara, who now lived in Seattle and worked as a journalist. Theirs had become merely a Christmas-card friendship, and she’d forgotten the intensity of relationships at that age. The two girls found it impossible to be separated for more than a few hours. All this would change, Julia realized, when boyfriends entered the picture; she hoped that wouldn’t be for a few more years. As it stood now, Ashley and Zoe were at school together every day, then talked on the phone half the night, with e-mail to fill in any gaps. Weekends were spent at each other’s houses.

  “Shall we eat?” Peter suggested, sliding into his chair.

  Julia sat down at the opposite end of the table.

  Once they were all seated, they bowed their heads for a brief prayer. As soon as they’d finished, Peter reached for the spoon to serve himself some casserole. “Your mother and I would like to talk to you both after dinner,” he said casually.

  “Talk to us?” Zoe asked.

  “About what?” Adam pressed.

  “We’ll wait until we’ve finished with dinner,” Julia inserted, unwilling to disrupt this congenial time.

  “Is it about me driving?” Adam was due to get his driver’s license soon. Already he was pressuring Peter and Julia about purchasing an extra vehicle for him. Naturally, he assured them, he’d get a job to pay for the insurance, gas and maintenance.

  Julia stabbed a green bean. She didn’t have the heart to tell Adam that with the extra financial burden of a third child, there wouldn’t be money for a car. They’d discussed buying a reliable used one, but that was completely out of the question now.

  “I know what it is,” Zoe burst out excitedly. She tossed her brother a superior look.

  Adam scowled in her direction.

  “We’re taking a family vacation this year, aren’t we?” Zoe said.

  Julia and Peter exchanged glances.

  Zoe’s eyes brightened. “We’re going to the Grand Canyon, right?”

  “I’ll drive,” Adam offered.

  “Do you mind if we put this discussion off until after dinner?” Julia said, wishing Peter hadn’t announced their intention beforehand.

  “I need forty dollars for gym class tomorrow,” Adam announced, grabbing a second roll from the basket and slathering butter on it.

  “Forty bucks?” Peter repeated, looking aghast.

  “Children are expensive,” Julia said pointedly. Peter didn’t appear to recognize the sacrifice this new child was going to require, and she wasn’t even thinking of the emotional implications, of which there were plenty.

  “Speaking of money, I need new reeds for my clarinet
,” Zoe added.

  School. Music lessons. Sports. Scouts. Church. All required commitments of money and time. Both Adam and Zoe were active teenagers, and a new baby wasn’t going to change that. Last week alone, there’d been some meeting or other involving one of the kids every night for five evenings straight.

  Julia couldn’t imagine what they’d do next year when they had an infant at home. An infant who was on a feeding, eating and sleeping schedule. It wasn’t as though she could drag a baby to these functions and expect anything to get done. Peter wouldn’t always be available to baby-sit either. He had work obligations of his own—PTA meetings, parent conferences and the like—that often took place in the evenings.

  “Are we taking a vacation this year?” Adam asked.

  “No.” Julia corrected him before this line of questioning got out of hand and led to yet another disappointment.

  Both children stared at her.

  “Just tell us what it is then,” Zoe pleaded.

  “Yeah,” Adam agreed. “Why don’t you tell us?” He heaped another helping of the casserole onto his plate. During the last six months, their son’s appetite had increased tenfold. Peter had joked recently that he was going to have to take on a second job just to afford groceries. A joke Julia now recalled with some bitterness.

  “Maybe we should just tell them and be done with it,” Peter said, looking at Julia.

  “It’s not fair to make us guess,” Zoe said, her eagerness to hear this news spilling over.

  “Gotta get back to the computer. I have a ton of English homework,” Adam said, implying that he’d be working on it the instant dinner was finished. He’d be at the computer, all right, but it was doubtful he’d be tackling his English project. Julia was well aware that her son was hooked on “Age of Empires.”

  “I don’t object, if your mother doesn’t,” Peter said.

  Both children turned to Julia. “Tell us, Mom.” “Come on, Mom.”

  Actually, she’d hoped Peter would be the one to make the announcement. Realizing she couldn’t postpone it any longer, she set her fork down and placed her hands in her lap. She put on a brave smile. “Your father and I have some good news.” She was determined to put a positive slant on this despite her own less-than-enthusiastic attitude.

  “I told you it was good news,” Adam shouted, exchanging a high-five with his sister.

  “We’re headed for the Grand Canyon,” Zoe said. “Mom just said no ’cause she wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “I’m not sure a baby is what either of you have in mind.” Peter threw out the words a bit desperately.

  “Yellowstone Park.” Adam’s eyes flashed with enthusiasm. “I could help with the driving. We could be there in eighteen hours. We’d stay at the National Park, wouldn’t we?”

  “Baby?” The excitement vanished from Zoe’s face as she took in her father’s words. “What’s this about a baby?”

  Julia wished her husband had led into the subject with a little more finesse. Doing her best to appear pleased, she leaned forward and looked both her children in the eye. “You heard that right.”

  “A baby?” Adam shared a puzzled frown with his sister.

  “Your mother’s pregnant,” Peter said. Julia preferred him to do the talking, since he was so damn thrilled about this baby.

  From Adam and Zoe’s horrified expressions, he seemed to be the only one in the family who was. “Your baby brother or sister is due in September.”

  Both children turned their heads and stared at Julia as though they found this impossible to believe.

  “I didn’t know women as old as Mom could have babies,” Adam said.

  “This may come as a shock, but your mother isn’t old,” Peter told him, doing nothing to hide his amusement.

  “I’ll be forty this year,” she murmured, in case Peter had forgotten the significance of that.

  “You’re honestly having a baby?” Zoe asked, her head cocked to one side. “You mean, we aren’t going on a family vacation?”

  “Not this year,” Julia said. And probably not for the next five. Or more.

  “Where will a baby sleep?” Adam asked, as if that thought had just occurred to him.

  Julia understood her son’s reasoning. Adam was concerned about being forced to share his room.

  “We won’t know that until the baby’s born,” Peter answered. “If it’s a boy, then eventually he’ll be with you. A girl will move in with Zoe at some point.”

  The ultrasound hadn’t revealed the sex; at the moment Julia didn’t care. She was merely grateful that the baby was okay—and that there was only one. She’d read that twins were more frequent with older mothers.

  “Wouldn’t it be better to move into a bigger house?” Zoe asked, looking from one parent to the other.

  “We can’t afford to do that,” Julia said, pushing her dinner around the plate with her fork. Her appetite hadn’t been good for several weeks, and this discussion wasn’t helping.

  “You mean if the baby’s a girl, she’ll be in the same bedroom as me?” Zoe’s outrage echoed in each word. “I have the smallest bedroom already! Make Adam change rooms with me, then.”

  “Adam. Zoe.” Peter entered the fray, his voice full of authority. “There’s no need to argue about this now. After the baby’s born, he or she will be with your mother and me for the first few months.”

  “Why can’t you keep him with you all the time?”

  “Don’t you think you’re both being a little selfish here?” Peter asked mildly.

  Julia could tell he was disappointed by their children’s reaction. Well, she’d done her best to warn him.

  “No one my age has a baby brother or sister,” Zoe said next, glancing at her brother for support. “This is…embarrassing.”

  “You might say we’re a bit surprised ourselves,” Peter countered. “It wasn’t like your mother and I planned this.”

  “A baby now will change all our lives,” Adam said and his insinuation was that any change couldn’t possibly be for the better.

  Which had been Julia’s main concern from the first. “You’re right. This pregnancy is going to alter the makeup of our family.”

  “Is that why Grandma’s been phoning you so much?” Zoe suddenly asked.

  Invariably, Zoe was on the line whenever Julia’s mother called. Zoe made it abundantly plain each and every time that she resented having to end her conversations for something that wasn’t related to her own small world.

  Julia nodded. “My mother and sister both know.”

  “You told Grandma and Aunt Janice, but not us?” Adam scowled again.

  “What am I going to tell my friends?” Zoe sounded near tears. “I can’t believe you’d let something like this happen.”

  “Tell your friends you’re about to become a big sister,” Peter suggested.

  “Oh, Daddy, how juvenile. This is so stupid.”

  Adam didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. Then he muttered, “This means you won’t be able to afford a car for me, doesn’t it?”

  “We don’t know that yet.” Julia hurried to answer before Peter could say something too blunt and destroy their son’s dream. “Maybe next year…”

  “Are you closing the yarn shop?” Zoe asked.

  “No.” Of that Julia was certain. She’d come too far, sacrificed too much, to abandon everything now.

  “Did you want more kids?” Adam asked her.

  “No,” Julia admitted.

  Zoe stood and glared across the table at her and Peter. “Why’d you have to go and do this?” she wailed. “I don’t want to share my room and furthermore, I refuse to baby-sit every afternoon after school. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Zoe, we haven’t gotten that far. Your father and I are still dealing with this news ourselves. Don’t worry, we won’t ask you to baby-sit unless it’s an emergency.”

  “What am I supposed to tell my friends?” she cried, tears glistening in her eyes.
r />   “Tell them your parents are having a baby.”

  “At your age?”

  “I’m not telling anyone,” Adam announced. “They’ll think it’s a big joke.”

  “I hate you for doing this to us!” Zoe raced out of the kitchen. A few seconds later, her bedroom door slammed, the sound echoing throughout the house.

  Wordlessly, Adam shoved his plate away. He left the table and marched down the hallway leading to his room. Seconds later, his door banged shut, too.

  The kitchen was suddenly silent. Julia thought she was going to throw up. This had gone even more badly than she’d feared. She’d known the children would be surprised, and perhaps embarrassed, but she hadn’t expected them to react this vehemently.

  “Well,” Peter said, leaning back in his chair. “What do you think?”

  “Think?” Julia echoed as the knot in her gut tightened.

  “It didn’t go well, did it?”

  “No, Peter,” she said. “It didn’t go well.”

  “Let me listen to me and not to them.”

  —Gertrude Stein

  Chapter 16

  LIZ KENYON

  “He’s here,” Donna DeGooyer, the hospital social services director, said, peeking inside Liz’s office on Thursday afternoon.

  “Who?” Liz asked, playing dumb.

  “You know who. I just saw Dr. Jamison down the hall and he’s headed in this direction.”

  “Really?” Liz’s pulse reacted immediately. For some unknown reason, she’d expected to hear from him yesterday—Valentine’s Day. It was ridiculous to entertain any such notion. Men were not romantic beings. Steve’s love for her was never in question, but he’d struggled with gift-giving and creating romantic interludes. Dr. Jamison had proven more than once that, except for his patients, he didn’t spare a thought for anyone other than himself. Or as Karen succinctly put it, “The ego has landed.” Even thinking he’d remember her on Valentine’s Day was foolish. Embarrassing. And indeed he hadn’t. Yet he was on his way to her office that very minute.