He laughed, and was surprised at how well she knew him.
“What’s bothering you? You look like you want to ask me something.” She slipped into a short, tight blackleather skirt as she spoke, and high heels, and reached into her closet for a sweater. She had her blond hair piled high on her head, and she looked like a rounder, more sensual Olivia Newton-John, as Charlie sat admiring her while she was dressing. He was a nice-looking young man, but he looked completely out of his league when he was with Barbie.
“What makes you think I want to ask you something?” he said hesitantly. Sometimes expressing his feelings to her made him feel awkward.
“Well, come on.” There was nothing shy about her as she stood in front of him with the black sweater stretched tight across her bosom. He’d been planning to ask her the night before, after the champagne and the ring, and maybe before they made love, or even after. But the events of the evening had gotten slightly out of order. They’d made love all night and never even bothered to have dinner.
“Come on, what is it?” she asked impatiently, and he started looking nervous. He didn’t want to ask at the wrong time, or maybe she’d get angry. She knew it was something she didn’t like to talk about, but it meant so much to him. He knew he had to.
“I’m not sure this is the right time.” He hesitated, afraid to blow it.
“My mother always said, ‘Don’t throw one shoe,’ so what’s on your mind, Charlie?”
He sat down on the bed, trying to find the right words. It was so important to him, he didn’t want to get her back up. And he knew she had her own opinions on the subject. But he had strong feelings about it, too, and at least he wanted to try to discuss it with her.
“I’m not sure how to say this … or how to tell you how much it means to me, Barb … but … I really want to have a baby.”
“What?” She turned around and looked at him. She looked like an angry cat in her black angora sweater. And she stood looking at him with obvious displeasure. “You know I don’t want kids, Charlie. Not now. Jeez, I just almost got a commercial this week. If I get pregnant, my whole career could wind up out the window, and I could wind up selling lipsticks at Neiman-Marcus like Judi.”
He didn’t remind her that her “whole career” consisted of a few walks-ons, a lot of auditions for commercials she didn’t get, the car show, and the back line of the chorus in Oklahoma!, not to mention a very unpleasant year in Las Vegas. Her only real success had been doing ramp work, in bikinis.
“I know,” he said understandingly. “But you could put your career on hold for a while. And I’m not saying we have to do it right away. But I want you to know how important it is to me. I want a family, Barb. I want kids. I want to give someone what I never had, a mother, a father, a home, a life. We could make a real difference in our children’s lives. I really want to do that. We’ve been married a year now and I thought it was time to say it.”
“So join the Peace Corps if you want to play with kids. I’m not ready for that. I’m almost thirty-two years old, and if I don’t go for the gold now, it’ll be gone when I get there.”
“I’m thirty, Barbie. Thirty. And I want a family.” His eyes pleaded with her, and she looked suddenly very nervous.
“A family?” she asked, raising one eyebrow as she leaned against the wall in her tight black-leather skirt, looking incredibly sexy. “How many kids is that? Ten? I’ve been in one of those. It stinks. Believe me, I can tell you.” More than he knew, more than he’d ever know, or she would tell him.
“It doesn’t have to be that way. Maybe your family was like that. But ours wouldn’t be, baby.” He had tears in his eyes when he spoke to her. “I need that in my life … it’s not going to be right for me until we have that. Can’t we at least try now?” They’d talked about it before, and it was something they had never really come to grips with before they were married. Charlie had always been outspoken about wanting kids, and Barbie had vacillated between being honest with him when she said she didn’t want any at all, and trying to keep him happy by saying “maybe later.” But later seemed to be coming at them faster than Barbie wanted.
She looked unhappy and stared out the window before looking back at him. There were memories that she didn’t want to share with him, but she had no desire to be part of a family again, or fill her life with children. She knew she’d never want that. She’d tried to tell him that when they first met, but Charlie just didn’t want to hear her and she knew he still didn’t believe her when she said she didn’t want children. “Why now? It’s only been a year. Everything’s fine like this, why screw it up?”
“It won’t screw it up, it’ll make it better. Please, Barb … just think it over.” He was begging her, and she could hear it in his voice, but all that did was make her hate him. He was pushing her, and it wasn’t fair to her. Particularly not on that subject.
“Maybe it wouldn’t work anyway,” she tried to discourage him any way she could. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s something weird about us. Half the time we don’t use birth control. I’ve never been so sloppy in my life, as I am with you, Charlie, and nothing ever happens.” She looked at him knowingly, and then she smiled. “Maybe we’re not meant to have kids.” She kissed him and tried to arouse him, which was never difficult. “I’ll be your baby, Charlie,” she said in a voice that ripped his socks off.
“That’s not the same thing.” He smiled, successfully distracted. “Nice though … very nice in the meantime.” But as far as Barbie was concerned, there was no “meantime.” And as he kissed her, he wondered if he could trick her into being even more careless. Maybe even at just the right time of month. Maybe that made more sense than trying to convince her, and he knew that the minute she had a baby, she’d love it. And as he thought that, he decided to pay more attention to her cycle. Maybe if he knew when just the right time was, he could bring home a bottle of champagne, and bingo … they’d have their baby. The idea cheered him no end, as they finished dressing and went out. And not knowing how intent he was on his plan, Barbie was in excellent spirits, and figured maybe he’d decided to be reasonable and forget his ideas about a family for a while. She had never actually told him she wouldn’t have kids, but she had never told him she would either. And one thing was sure, as far as she was concerned, no matter how badly he wanted a baby, she was not going to have one.
Nancy and Tommy brought the baby to Brad and Pilar’s on the Fourth of July, and it was extraordinary to realize how he had changed them all. Nancy and Tommy seemed suddenly terribly grown-up and responsible, and Brad was cooing over his grandson and holding him every minute. He couldn’t imagine how they had ever lived without him. Pilar loved holding the baby, too, and it amazed her to think that she might have her own one day. It was an incredible feeling.
Adam was fat and round, and happy to sleep in anyone’s arms, his eyes were huge and blue when he was awake, and just holding him felt delicious.
“He looks good on you,” Brad said softly when he walked by Pilar late in the afternoon as she held the baby. “Maybe he’ll have a new aunt or uncle soon,” he teased and she smiled. They had worked at it the week after their anniversary, and she was waiting to see what would happen that weekend.
But she was startled that night, after the young people went home, when she discovered that she wasn’t pregnant. She came out of the bathroom looking surprised and devastated. She was used to accomplishing what she wanted the first time.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Brad saw her and he thought she was sick. She looked like a ghost, but she sat down on the bed next to him, and he could see that she’d been crying.
“I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” He smiled gently. “I thought something terrible had happened.”
“Isn’t that bad enough?” She seemed so stunned. It was rare for success to elude her. But Brad knew better.
“After fourteen years? Just because you tried once, doesn’t mean you’re going to
get what you want the first time around, you know. You may have to put a little more effort into it than that.” He leaned over and kissed her, and she smiled, but she was still looking forlorn. “Just think of the fun we’ll have trying.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” she asked, frightened now. This wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Brad looked at her intently, wondering how she’d take it if it didn’t work, ever.
“If it doesn’t work, Pilar, then we’ll have to live with that. But we’ll give it our best effort. We can’t do more than that,” he said quietly.
“At my age, I should probably go to a specialist right from the start,” she said worriedly.
“At your age, women have babies all the time, without specialists, or any heroic efforts. Just relax. You can’t control the entire world. Just because you decided you wanted a baby three weeks ago, doesn’t mean you can just make it happen overnight. Give it a chance. Relax …” He pulled her next to him on the bed, and he held her, and after a while she relaxed, and they talked quietly for a while about their plans and the baby they hoped to have. If they had one.
Brad thought it was way too soon even to think about a specialist, and he told her so that night, but he also agreed, when she pressed him about it, that if it turned out they needed one, he was willing to go with her.
“But not yet,” he reminded her as he turned off the light. “I really think that what we need,” he said softly as he moved closer to her beneath the sheets, “is a lot more practice.”
For Diana, the Goodes’ Fourth of July picnic had been a nightmare. She had just discovered that she wasn’t pregnant again two days before, and her sisters hounded her mercilessly about why it wasn’t happening, and did she think Andy had a problem.
“Of course not,” she defended him, feeling as though she were being run over by steamrollers until she couldn’t even breathe as they moved closer. “It just takes time.”
“It didn’t take us time, and you’re our sister,” Gayle announced. “Maybe he has a low sperm count,” she said suspiciously, relieved to blame him. She had already said as much to her husband.
“Why don’t you ask him?” Diana snapped at her, and Gayle looked hurt by her reaction.
“I was just trying to be helpful. Maybe you should tell him to go see someone.” Diana didn’t tell her older sister that she had an appointment herself with a specialist the next day. As Andy said, it was none of their business.
But it was her sister Sam who really took the wind out of her, and delivered the ultimate blow with her unexpected announcement. She told them all over lunch, and Diana thought she was going to throw up as soon as she heard it.
“Okay, guys …” she started to say, and then she looked sheepishly at her husband, and he grinned. “Should I tell them?”
“Nah.” He laughed. “Tell them in six months. Keep them guessing till then.” Everyone loved his brogue and his easy style. He had been well liked in the family ever since he’d married Samantha.
“Come on,” Gayle complained, “tell us.”
“Okay.” Sam grinned happily. “I’m pregnant. The baby’s due on Valentine’s Day.”
“How wonderful!” their mother exclaimed, and their father looked pleased too. He’d been chatting with Andy, and looked up to congratulate his daughter and son-in-law. That would make six grandchildren, three each for his oldest and youngest daughters, and none for Diana.
“That’s great,” Diana said woodenly, as she kissed Sam, who whispered the ultimate dig, without even trying.
“I thought you’d beat me to it, but I guess not!” For the first time in her life, it made Diana want to slap her. She hated her as she listened to her laugh and brag, as everyone teased and congratulated and made a fuss over her. But the worst of it was that when all was said and done, in the end, Sam would have the baby, and not Diana.
She didn’t say a word to Andy on the way home, and when they got back to their house, he finally exploded.
“Look dammit, it’s not my fault, don’t take it out on me!” He knew exactly what was bothering her, had known it from the moment Sam had made her announcement. And her eyes seemed to be full of silent accusations.
“How do you know it’s not your fault? Maybe it is!” And then she regretted it the moment the words were out. She sat down on the couch with a look of despair, and he looked shattered. “Look, I’m sorry … I don’t know what I’m saying. They just upset me so much. They don’t mean to, but they say all the wrong things, and Sam just blew me away when she said she was pregnant.”
“I know, baby.” He sat down next to her. “I know. We’re doing everything we can.” He knew she was going to see the doctor the next day. “They’ll probably tell us that we’re fine. Just relax.” She had come to hate that word more than any other.
“Yeah … sure …” she said, and went to take a shower. But all she could think of were her sisters. “I’m pregnant.”… “Maybe he has a low sperm count.”… “I thought you’d be pregnant first, but I beat you to it.”… I’m pregnant … I’m pregnant … low sperm count… She stood crying in the shower for half an hour, and after that, she went to bed without saying a word to Andy.
The next morning dawned brilliant and sunny. It was almost an affront for the weather to be so nice when she felt so lousy. She had taken the day off from work. Lately her job had been getting to her, the pressure, the deadlines, the politics, the people. It had been fun before, but now even that seemed bitter without a baby.
Even her one close friend at work had noticed that Diana had lost some of her sparkle. Eloise Stein was the food editor at the magazine, and she had finally dared to bring it up the week before, over a quick lunch at Eloise’s desk, where they were tasting the results of some unusual French recipes Eloise had unearthed in Paris.
“Something bothering you these days?” Eloise had asked her pointedly. She was intelligent, and beautiful, and very perceptive. She had gone to Yale, and then did graduate work at Harvard. She was originally from L.A., and eventually she had come home to roost, as she put it. She was twenty-eight, and she was living in a little apartment adjacent to her parents’ house in Bel Air. But considering how much she had going for her, she was surprisingly unspoiled, a beautiful girl, and she had been a good friend to Diana since she’d come to the magazine a few months before, and she was fun to be with. Diana and Andy had tried to fix her up with Bill Bennington once, but she had terrified him, too capable, too grown-up, although he had put it down to too skinny and too tall. She looked like a model.
“No, I’m okay.” Diana had brushed off her question, and complimented her on the goodies they were eating, among them rillettes, and a recipe for tripe that reminded Diana of her days in Paris. “It’s hard to believe you ever eat,” Diana said, looking at her. She was thin, with big blue eyes, and long, straight blond hair.
“I was anorectic in college,” Eloise explained. “Or at least I tried to be. I think basically I liked food too much to stick with anorexia for very long, and my grandmother in Florida kept sending me cookies.” Then she looked up at Diana again, not one to be put off, which was why she was doing so well at the magazine. “You didn’t really answer my question.”
“About what?” Diana looked vague, but she knew exactly what she was asking. And she liked this girl, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to take anyone into her confidence about her problems. The only one who knew how distraught she was, was Andy.
“Something’s bothering you. I don’t mean to pry, but you’re starting to get that look of people who walk into walls while assuring you they’re fine.”
“Is it that bad?” Diana looked horrified, and then suddenly laughed at the description.
“Not really, but I’ve noticed it. Should I mind my own business, or do you need a buddy?”
“Actually … no … I …” She had started to tell her that she was fine, and then suddenly found herself crying. All she could do was shake her head as the tears poured down her cheeks, and she sobbed
uncontrollably, and the tall blond girl ran a gentle hand across her shoulders, and kept handing her paper towels to blow her nose in. It was a long time before Diana could stop crying. “I’m so sorry … I didn’t mean to …” She looked up with a red nose, and red eyes that were still watering, but she felt better. It had been a relief to let her hair down. “I don’t know what happened.”
“Yes, you do, you needed that desperately.” Eloise gave her a warm hug, and poured her a strong cup of coffee,
“I guess you’re right.” Diana took a deep breath and faced her. “I’m having problems … at home, I suppose one could say. Nothing terminal, just some things I need to adjust to.”
“With your husband?” Eloise asked, looking sorry for her. She liked Diana a lot, and she also liked Andy. She was sorry to hear they were having trouble. They had looked so happy the last time they’d all been out to dinner.
“No, I can’t really blame this on him. I think it’s more my fault. I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on him … we’ve been trying to have a baby for over a year, and it just hasn’t happened. And I know how stupid it must sound, but every month it’s like a death in the family, a terrible disaster I have to face again, and I just dread it. All month I hope that this time it worked, and when I find out it didn’t again, it just breaks my heart. Isn’t that stupid?” She started crying again, and blew her nose in another paper towel.
“It’s not stupid,” Eloise reassured her. “I’ve never wanted to have a child, but it’s probably pretty normal. Also, for people like us, who’re used to running things, and being in control, it’s probably pretty frightening when things don’t go the way we want to. You know, that devil word ‘control,’ there’s probably a little of that in the grief too: the total loss of power, over not being able to influence whether or not you have a baby.”
Mixed Blessings Page 12
