by Glynis Astie
The guards suddenly became very interested in studying the pattern embedded in the plush cream carpeting.
Chester regarded the ceiling and exhaled deeply. Addressing the larger of the two guards, he asked, “Did you think she was propositioning you again?”
The guard shifted his eyes between Ellie and Chester. “Uh, yes, sir. I did.”
Chester accepted the proffered ice pack from one of his staff members and placed it on his forehead. “Jerry, I’m begging you, please, remember when Mrs. Jones asks for beef jerky, she means the sodium infused snack, not your…well, you know what I mean. We don’t run that kind of establishment!”
Jerry appeared indignant. “Man, she ran out of the treatment room, completely naked and oiled up, grabbed me by the head and yelled, ‘I need some beef jerky.’ What was I SUPPOSED to think?”
With a last glare at Chester, Jerry disappeared into the back of the spa. The other guard helped Ellie out of the chair and said, “Come on, Mrs. Jones, let’s go to the kitchen. There’s plenty of beef jerky in there.”
Chester turned to us. “I’m terribly sorry for that display, ladies. Please accept our apologies along with a complementary mani-pedi.” He then scurried away to attend to more pressing business.
Maya clapped her hands decisively. “Well, now that the floor show is over, I think it’s time for my massage.”
I shot my hand out and grabbed her arm. “Liar! Your appointment is a full hour after mine. You were going on and on about leafing through all the latest fashion magazines.” I squeezed her arm a little tighter and she sat back down. “You aren’t going anywhere.”
A hint of fear showed in her eyes, which she attempted to cover with her usual bravado. “What do you want to know, Sydney?”
“You know exactly what I want to know.”
Maya sighed. “It’s not a big deal. Your dad was worried about you and Louis doesn’t give much information.” It was true; my husband was well known for keeping his descriptions brief, whereas my dad sought to dig a little deeper.
I furrowed my brow. “Why does he need to worry about me? Pregnancy isn’t a disease!”
Her voice softened. “He’s your dad and you’re…well, you. You’ve been through a lot in the past year with the weddings and Louis’ job loss. Plus, there’s your anxiety and scoliosis on top of the high blood pressure. He only wanted to be kept informed.”
I was truly perplexed. “Why didn’t he ask Kate? He talks to her at least twice a week.” Not that my dad was unpleasant by any means, but Maya had her hands full with “the wedding of the century.” She didn’t need to worry about holding my dad’s hand through MY pregnancy. The whole thing was just odd.
Maya appeared annoyed. “He called me a couple of months ago to ask about you and we got to talking. I appreciate his humor and he asks for my advice with your mother. He’s honestly trying to bring some romance back into their relationship. It’s sweet.”
I let her words sink in. I was having a hard time accepting such a selfless act from my selfish friend. When the truth of the situation dawned on me, the waterworks commenced. Surprise, surprise!
“Syd? What’s the matter?”
I ducked my head. “I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t hide her confusion. “For what?”
“For doubting your sincerity…for forgetting how amazing you are…and…and…for being so emotional.”
Maya came over and sat at the edge of my chair. “I love you, Syd.” She put her arms around me and held me tightly.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for taking care of my dad.”
She rubbed my back. “Are you alright, sweetie?”
I wiped my tears, pulled out of the hug and moved over so she could sit next to me on the ginormous chaise. Once she settled in, I leaned my head on her shoulder. If Maya was being all warm and fuzzy, I was going to take full advantage of it.
“Dr. Bauer says everything is fine. She gave us a clean bill of health yesterday morning.” I didn’t divulge that my blood pressure had been at the tippy-top of the acceptable range. I made my usual promise to Dr. Bauer to be careful and was sure I could keep it under control. No one needed to worry but me.
Maya put her finger under my chin, bringing my eyes to meet hers. “I didn’t ask about the baby. I asked about YOU.”
“I’m great!” I said with more enthusiasm than I felt.
“That’s convincing, Syd. How are things with Louis? Has he lightened up yet?”
I shrugged. “Things are fine. I think he’s as light as he’s going to be.” I really didn’t want to talk about it.
She wasn’t giving up so easily. “Is he still house hunting?”
I rubbed my sore neck. I needed this massage in the worst way. “He’s given up the house search for now, but he’s not happy about it.” I paused. “I can’t complain. It’s not like he’s being mean per se…he’s just not quite himself.”
“Uh-huh.” She frowned. “But how are you feeling?”
I took a quick assessment. “Tired, fat, cranky and ugly.”
Maya smirked. “In that order?”
I sighed. “It’s hard to sleep even with the body pillow. I can’t get comfortable. It’s hard to get up to go to the bathroom. I feel like I need something to launch myself out of the bed.” Curse our high bed frame and pillow top mattress! It was the most comfortable bed I’d ever slept in, but my new body was causing me to resent it. How was I going to get out of bed during the last few weeks of my pregnancy? Perhaps I needed some kind of hydraulic pallet jack? Or at the very least a sturdy step stool.
Maya smoothed my hair. “Maybe Louis could invent something? He’s a pretty tech savvy guy.”
“My new nickname doesn’t help. Louis keeps calling me ‘his little whale.’ The first time he said it I thought it was kind of funny, but the bigger I get, the more mean it sounds. I’m actually starting to have trouble seeing my feet.”
Sad, but true. I’ve been relegated to slip-on shoes, since tying my own shoes has become quite the comedy routine. I contort myself in every which way to reach my feet and then struggle to tie those persnickety laces, which garners quite the laugh from anyone in the immediate vicinity.
“Don’t you worry about Louis. Something tells me he won’t be calling you such a questionable nickname anymore.”
I laughed and burrowed into her shoulder.
Maya was silent for a moment. “Syd, the weight gain is really getting to you, isn’t it?”
Sometimes I forget how long Maya has known me. We met in our freshman year at Northwestern and were inseparable for the next four years. She was there the first night I got drunk and confided in her how wearing a back brace for ten years of my life had left me with scars which might never heal. There were no physical scars, only very deep emotional ones.
Beginning at the age of seven, I wore the baggiest clothes I could find in a fruitless attempt to cover the large plastic shell which encased my torso. My classmates were understandably curious, since I looked like a human-turtle hybrid. My third grade teacher thought she would quiet the bullies by having me stand up in front of the class to explain what a brace was, but her idea failed miserably.
The teasing I was subjected to gradually reduced over the years, but the hurtful effects remained. The body image of the average teenage girl is precarious as it is. Try to imagine what it is like to be a teenage girl wearing a plastic shell. I shudder just thinking about it. Even though I’ve been repeatedly complimented on my trim figure (pre-pregnancy, of course), my body image still hasn’t fully healed.
I cleared my throat. “It’s fine, Maya. I need to gain weight for the baby to be healthy.”
“Sweetie, it’s completely normal to feel—”
“I know, I know. Stop kvetching.”
We giggled at the expression my father’s favorite Yiddish word. Though it was an incorrect use of his favorite term for “complaining,” I knew it would make us both laugh.
Maya went back to s
troking my hair. I could get used to this mellower version of her. “And your back has been holding up, right? No pain?”
“Nope. I told you, Dr. Bauer told me everything is fine.” I smirked at her. “You need to relax.”
Maya smirked back at me. “Oh no, you didn’t!” She snapped her fingers in the air and wiggled her head back and forth in a dramatic fashion.
I grinned at her with triumph.
“Mrs. Durand?” A petite, young redhead looked expectantly at me. (It isn’t hard to figure out who in the room is waiting for a prenatal massage.)
I waved genially and began the process of standing up. Maya helped me to my feet and said, “One more thing before you go.”
She quickly grabbed her phone out of her purse and walked over to me. After touching a few buttons, she held it out to me.
Intrigued, I took the phone and found an image of a woman in a gorgeous red dress on her screen, replete with a decent sized baby bump. The dress was a twist-waist, silk chiffon in the most beautiful shade of crimson. It had sturdy straps to control my now ample bosom and would fall about halfway down my calves—long enough to cover my, um, large legs, but not so long that I would trip. It was perfect.
“Is this?”
She grinned wickedly. “You bet it is.”
“It’s absolutely stunning,” I breathed. “It’s too bad I have to be eight and a half months pregnant while wearing it. And stand next to you in your size two Chanel wedding dress.”
“You’re going to look incredible, Syd.”
I shook my head. “That’s the bride’s job. As long as no one mistakes me for a giant tomato, I’ll be happy.”
Maya turned to me with a wistful look in her eyes. “Can you believe I’m actually getting married?”
I took a moment to appreciate the vulnerability of my fearless friend. “It’s one of the bravest things you’ll ever do.”
Chapter Twenty
Maya’s spa day brought a renewed sense of calm into my life. Once I returned to work, I was able to find the necessary perspective to deal with Paul and his outrageous requests. Pet insurance had gone by the wayside in favor of the company changing to a softer brand of toilet paper. You haven’t lived until you have discussed ass chafing with a straight face. (You can’t even read it with a straight face, can you? I have enviable containment skills which took YEARS to develop.) My life will always contain excitement as long as Paul is in it.
I only wish my resilience with employee woes could extend to my personal life. Kate had officially had it with me and finally put her foot down about our baby registry. She had practically spoon-fed me information with regards to each and every baby product on the market, but I still hadn’t been able to finalize the list. For the last two weeks, I have ignored her emails, dodged her phone calls and lived in fear she would kidnap me until I met her demands. A bizarre theory indeed, but not out of the realm of possibility when it came to Kate. She can be rather determined when it comes to her little sister.
Yesterday, Stern Kate showed up at my apartment with her laptop and a non-negotiable to-do list. My husband’s quick departure made it clear he was in cahoots with my outraged sister. At least he would be able to enjoy his Sunday in peace. I, however, evidently had a day of intense labor ahead of me. And though I knew whatever Kate had in store for me wouldn’t be as painful as actual labor, it would be almost as terrifying. Baby paraphernalia scared the daylights out of me.
I sighed as I sat down on the couch. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you, Kate.”
“A likely story, Sydney.” Uh oh. She only uses my full name when she is borderline livid.
I felt my heart rate pick up at the prospect of spending the day sifting through screenshots of onesies, blankets, bottles and breast pumps. And the nipple cream! Gah! I hadn’t thought about this particular item since Nick’s desperate phone call to me last year. I didn’t truly appreciate how much I loved my brother-in-law until that very moment. The issues I had to help him with during Kate’s pregnancy still send chills down my spine. Let us not speak of them.
Kate snapped her fingers. “Earth to Syd!”
Startled out of my reverie, I clutched my chest and stared at her with wide eyes. “I’m sorry! I zoned out for a moment. There’s no need to get your panties in a bunch.”
She fixed her icy gaze on me. “Don’t try to fake a panic attack! I ALWAYS know when you’re faking.”
Damn. What good is it having people think you are crazy if you can’t occasionally use it to your advantage? She was right, though. She could read me like a book. I sometimes wondered if she had written the manual and then taught it to me as a child. Nah. She would have made me much more normal. Or would she…
I shook my head to clear the ever-present nonsense. It was hard enough to concentrate before I was thinking for two. These days it felt like Garfield’s adorable canine patsy, Odie, had a greater attention span than I did. So, not only am I battling diminished cognitive processing, I also have to concern myself with random thought spirals. Oh, joy!
Not again. Focus, Sydney!
“Fine.” I motioned to her laptop. “Let’s do this.”
She smirked. “Oh, no. YOU are getting your cute patootie out of this apartment. You’ve been spending way too much time sitting on the couch.”
How would she know? Did she install cameras in our apartment? Nope. That’s too creepy for words and Louis wouldn’t allow it. (Although this isn’t stopping him from trying to sneak his brand new video camera into the delivery room. He has been told, in no uncertain terms, that he will be taking his life into his own hands should he choose to attempt it.)
Perhaps my traitorous husband spilled the beans. He is totally not getting any tonight! Unless my hormones decide to spike, then I won’t have a prayer of resisting his charm. I will have to think of something else to express my extreme disappointment in him. Selling me out to my sister was simply not kosher.
I whined, “Then why did you bring your laptop?” Wait. Why did she bring her laptop? Louis’ favorite pastime is building computers. We have a total of four functioning computers with high speed internet access at our disposal. Kate knows this. She teases him about it often. What is she up to?
I fixed my questioning gaze on her and she shrugged. “I brought my laptop as an incentive to you, my dear sister.”
I was about to throw out a well-timed “Whatchoo talkin’ ‘bout Willis?” when she cut me off. (This line never gets old.)
“IF you come with me to the baby store of my choosing AND make a real effort to complete your registry, I’ll give you access to the gorgeous photos from your niece’s birthday party.”
Oooh! There were some stunning photos from Sam’s soirée. I had to hand it to my sister. She knew exactly how to play me. But I’ve learned a thing or two after all these years…
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Will you copy the photos I like to my computer?”
She squeezed my hand. “Why do you think I brought the laptop?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a blue memory stick with an elephant emblazoned on the side. “Consider it your final party favor.”
I laughed. “And I’m the crazy one in the family.”
Kate tucked the memory stick back in her pocket and clapped her hands. “You ready to go?”
The answer was no. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready, but I didn’t have a choice at this point. I had a sneaking suspicion Kate had a series of backup plans if she were unable to secure my cooperation. I simply didn’t have the strength to battle her, no matter how much I was dreading this particular shopping trip.
With fear in my eyes, I said, “If we have to.”
Kate clenched her fists in exasperation. “You’re thirty-two weeks pregnant, Syd! You don’t have any more time to waste.”
I gaped at her. “I’m sorry, Kate! I’m feeling a tad overwhelmed with choices. My God, the strollers alone! There are, like, FIFTY different kinds! They all have different features, different weights and d
ifferent purposes. It’s ridiculous!”
She glared at me. “So not dealing with the decision is your solution? How are you going to get the baby home from the hospital? What are you going to put the baby in when you leave the house? Or are you going to stay cooped up all day since you won’t be able to decide where to go?”
I hesitated, tears threatening to spill over at any moment. Kate’s expression tempered and she came to sit next to me on the couch.
“Syd,” she said softly. “This isn’t like you. Planning is one of your biggest obsessions. What’s going on?”
I felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over my ahead. She was absolutely right. Planning was how I had gotten through my existence as the lovable, neurotic mess that I was. Making lists and accounting for various outcomes had helped me maintain some sense of control in a world brimming with chaos. What had happened to me?
My life with Louis had absolutely changed me for the better. (I sense your agreement.) I felt stronger, more confident and more serene than I ever had before. Sure, there were still bouts of crazy, but I can’t be expected to go cold turkey after so many years of running amuck. Trust me, you must ease your way out of the irrational thinking.
“I think…” I exhaled slowly. “I…I’m confused.”
“How so?”
I played with a strand of my hair. “Life with Louis has been amazing. I feel so lucky to have found him. But then, everything happened so fast. I met the man of my dreams and the next thing I knew, I was a wife. Now I’m about to be a mother. I just wonder how I’m going to do it.”
Kate picked up her cell phone and started dialing.
Her uncharacteristically thoughtless action elicited my best stink eye. “I’m sitting here, pouring my heart out to you and you need to make a call?” What the fuck?
She waved me aside and continued to dial. “I’m calling Mom.”
I grabbed the phone from her and hung up the call.
She reached eagerly for her stolen cell phone. “Syd! Why did you do that?”
I refused to relinquish her phone. “There’s no need to worry her. She ALREADY knows what a freak her daughter is. Please allow her to believe my deep-rooted insanity continues to lie dormant. I have worked very hard to produce this illusion.” OK, so it wasn’t entirely an illusion. I had actually managed to tame at least a small degree of my lunacy.
