“Hi, Shannon,” she called from the kitchen, where she was making a salad.
“That risotto smells delicious!” Shannon gushed. “I skipped lunch today because I knew it would be. You, my friend, are such an amazing cook.”
“Bring that bottle over here, and I’ll set you up. I may even have half a glass in honor of your special day.”
Shannon walked to the kitchen and handed the bottle to Grace. “I thought you weren’t going to drink.”
“I am tonight, but only a little,” said Grace. “I saw the other, older doctor in the practice this week, and he said I could have a bit here and there if I felt like it. That the baby would prefer three ounces of wine to through-the-roof stress levels.”
“Oh,” said Shannon, taking off her coat. “Are you stressed-out?”
“Nope,” said Grace. “I feel remarkably good. So let’s sit down with our wine and have it out.”
“Have what out?”
“The fact that I forgot about your birthday, specifically, and the reason for your sour mood, in general.”
Shannon plopped down on Grace’s couch. “I don’t care about the birthday,” she said, an obvious lie. “Who wants to celebrate being forty-one and single?”
“I do.”
“And who’s been sour? Not me.”
“Definitely you,” said Grace, handing the full glass of wine to Shannon before sitting on the opposite side of the couch with her half glass.
“Because you’re my best friend,” Shannon said, “I have to tell you I’m still unsure about Bradley, about his commitment, about his capability for fatherhood, about his concept of forever. We’re older, you and I. We understand more about what forever means. At thirty, I didn’t know what it meant, Grace. I don’t think you knew it at thirty either. And I don’t think Bradley knows it now. He is sweet and earnest, but I’m not sure what kind of father he’s going to be, or if he’s even going to stick around that long.”
“Before we get too far down the road, let me ask you this: Are you now okay with my having the baby and only not okay with Bradley?”
Shannon took a sip of her wine before saying, “Excellent question,” she said. “You’re on your game, as usual. So, no, I guess I’m not completely okay with your decision to have this baby. But we’ve been over that topic more than once. Plus, since I’ve spent some time with Bradley lately, I thought it would be good to discuss him.”
“Good in whose opinion?”
“We’re going to talk about this, Grace.”
Grace shifted in the chair. “What makes you so sure he’s going to bolt on me, or that if he stays he wouldn’t be a good father?”
“I’m not sure,” said Shannon. “And I hope I am wrong about the feeling I have in my gut. You deserve the best, Grace. A guy who is totally devoted to you and enthusiastic about being as great at fatherhood as you will be at motherhood.”
“You have no idea what kind of mother I’m going to be.”
“Yes, I do,” said Shannon. “You are going to be one of the best out there because in spite of all the reasons to say no, you’re saying yes. And even though I still question this decision, you’re slowly convincing me that this is truly what you want. Grace, you excel at everything you do. You will excel at motherhood. Bradley’s not there. He’s unsure. I can see it in his eyes. He wants to like this, to be on board, but at his core, he’s a doubter.”
Grace nodded. “It’s okay,” she said. “I actually like that about him. I know he’s afraid because I’m afraid. I know how he feels. We’re learning about this; we’re finding our way together, Shannon. And just because he’s young does not mean he can’t do this.”
“So where do I fit in?”
Grace was able to do nothing but blink her eyes for what lasted only for a moment but seemed like an hour. And then she mentally chastised herself for not thinking about this until now. Shannon was Grace’s one true friend. They had spent almost all their free time together over the eight years they had known each other. Along with Grace’s therapist, Shannon had been instrumental in pulling her out of her depression after her divorce from Kenny. Shannon had been the one to celebrate Grace’s successes, to console her over her failures. And now Bradley was Grace’s go-to. He had bumped Shannon from her number one status. And it didn’t matter that Shannon, who had been in love herself a few times over the course of their friendship, ought to know better than to feel this way. Being pushed aside by the new shiny thing, or worse, ignored, was painful.
“You fit in where you’ve always fit in,” said Grace. “I’ve been neglectful of our relationship of late. I have been preoccupied with the baby and with Bradley. I really am sorry I missed your birthday. That’s inexcusable.”
Shannon got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen, where she poured herself another glass of wine. “Let’s not worry this to death. It’s okay, Grace,” she said, then looked at her watch. “When’s dinner?”
“Fifteen minutes,” said Grace, standing. “I’m going to put the bread in the oven, and we’ll be good to go.”
“This, right here, being with you,” said Shannon, drawing a circle in the air with her index finger, “is the best birthday present I could ask for.”
CHAPTER 26
Bradley and Grace had decided that he would move in with her when his lease was up at the end of October. It would be good practice for when the baby arrived, Bradley had quickly told Grace when she suggested it. Bradley loved his loft in the city and his easy commute to work, as well as the independence he’d established when he made the decision three years ago that he could afford to live by himself. But he knew Grace was right; if they were going to live together after the baby was born, why not get started? A couple days before November first, Bradley and his friends packed up his belongings and piled everything into the back of a U-Haul truck. They deposited all of it, except for his clothing, into a storage unit, as Grace’s house was furnished and decorated the way she liked it. Bradley liked her taste, too. It was clean and contemporary rather than overly feminine; he liked the shades of blue and white pervading the house’s interior. Plus, her furniture was comfortable as well as attractive. His furniture was junk, purchased with ones and fives at yard sales or lifted into the back of his car from the side of a city street, a FREE sign taped to a cushion or bookshelf. He could get away with it because his apartment itself was stunning, with its tall windows, exposed brick walls, and wood floor. His furniture, repainted and polished, had looked good in it. But living with Grace, he would miss nothing.
Hannah and Jada were moving into Bradley’s apartment that same day. The landlord had raised the rent only slightly, not enough to deter the women, who both worked for nonprofits. They had been looking for close to six months for an affordable way out of their run-down third-floor apartment, located in a neighborhood with one of the city’s highest crime rates.
After Bradley’s furniture, cookware, and other belongings were locked into his storage unit, the six friends returned to his apartment and thoroughly cleaned it. They then moved Hannah and Jada’s stuff into it. At this point, Grace, who had spent the day with Shannon, arrived to celebrate what Bradley called the Transfer of the Keys. Isaac, Dan, and Kevin contributed a cooler of drinks, and Jada and Hannah ordered and paid for the pizza. Bradley provided a box of cupcakes from his favorite bakery, the one that made the lemon scones Grace adored, and Grace brought a green salad. They sat around Hannah and Jada’s rustic farm table, eating and drinking into the night.
* * *
By ten o’clock, Grace was tired, but she kept quiet about it. She did not want to be the woman at the lead end of the chain, dragging Bradley away from his friends. Just before eleven, Grace stood. Her attempts at silently communicating her fatigue to Bradley had gone unrecognized, and she was ready to go home. Jada and Hannah appeared to have picked up on her signals as they stood, too, announcing the end of the party and remarking on the success of the day.
Grace and Bradley said their
goodbyes, walked out into the night, and belted themselves into their seats in the car, with Grace driving. She encouraged him to sleep, but Bradley talked the whole way home about the move, about their new life together, and about the life they had created. She knew he had consumed a lot of beer, and that his sentimentality, therefore, was somewhat alcohol-induced. But she appreciated his sweetness nonetheless.
In the morning, he announced his intention to go for a swim. Grace looked at the indoor/outdoor thermometer on her kitchen counter. “It’s forty-seven degrees outside,” she said.
“But the water is warmer,” said Bradley. “I’ll bet the water is sixty degrees.”
“Suit yourself.”
“No way,” he said. “I’m going in the buff.” He dropped his boxer shorts onto the kitchen floor, wrapped a beach towel around his waist, and strode out the sliding door and across the deck to the sand. He sprinted toward the water, casting off the towel at the last second, and then dove underneath. He surfaced with a “Whooooooo!” Grace, who had followed him to the water’s edge, picked up the towel and wrapped it around herself.
“You’re crazy!” she called to him.
“Are you kidding? It’s beautiful. Come join me!”
Grace laughed. “In June,” she said. “I’ll join you next June.”
Bradley emerged from the water and Grace wrapped the towel around him. “We’ll be parents next June. Bradley Junior can swim with us.”
“Bradley Junior? Does this mean you want a boy?”
“I’d love to have a boy,” said Bradley, walking with her back toward the house. “And I’d love to have a girl. It doesn’t really matter.”
“We’ve never talked about this, have we?”
“No,” he said, opening the sliding door for Grace. “I guess that’s because we were so caught up in whether or not to have the baby. It didn’t even occur to me to talk about the sex.”
“Our sex?” asked Grace, smiling.
Bradley dropped the towel and stood before Grace. “Yes,” he said.
Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his mouth. And in less than a minute, she was naked, too.
* * *
Afterward, they lay together in Grace’s bed, Bradley with his hands behind his head and Grace cuddling against him with her arm draped across his chest. A minute later, she rolled over onto her back and put her hands on what Bradley called her cute little pot belly. “What about names?” she asked.
He rolled onto his side and put his hand on top of hers. “Hmmm, I haven’t thought about that either. Have you?”
“I have, but I haven’t come up with anything I like.”
“We can ask my mom,” said Bradley. “She’s really good at names. Plus, she’s into genealogy. She knows the name of everyone in her family and everyone in my dad’s family going back several generations.”
Grace turned her head and looked into his eyes. “I’m not sure I want a family name.”
“Why not?”
“Doesn’t everyone compare you with that person or with the memory of that person?”
“Not if you go back far enough that no one who remembers that person is alive. My great-great-grandfather Bradley? He was a cowboy in Montana.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to Montana.”
“Let’s go,” said Bradley, tracing the outline of Grace’s swollen abdomen with his index finger. “Maybe we can find out more about Bradley. My mom told me he frequently drank, robbed banks, cheated on his wife, who cheated on him, and wrote bad songs.”
“He was a failed songwriter?”
“Yes. Have you ever heard ‘Home on the Range’?”
“He wrote that song?”
“No,” said Bradley. “He was a failed songwriter.”
Grace laughed at him as she struggled to sit up. Bradley used his hand to gently push her from behind. “I’m going to need a crane to get out of bed a month from now,” she said.
“I love your belly.”
“I do, too. I can’t believe I’ve got a baby in there. I’m so excited.”
“Me too,” said Bradley, sitting up and kissing Grace on the cheek. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” said Grace. “I can’t seem to get enough to eat.”
“Well, how about I rustle you up some beans and biscuits?” He reached out with both his arms and tickled her sides with his finger. When she turned around and tickled him back, he passed gas.
Grace bust out laughing. “No beans for you!”
CHAPTER 27
Instead of flying home to visit his parents, Bradley told his mother that he wanted to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with Grace. Dorrie said she was okay with this suggestion, provided that she could book plane tickets the minute they got off the phone for Christmas in Connecticut. Bradley gave her his permission, which he knew Grace also granted. They had talked the night before, Bradley explaining that he would need to offer something to his mother in exchange for her acceptance of his decision to miss a holiday with them. With the exception of the Thanksgiving of his junior year in college when Bradley had spent the semester in Singapore, he had been in his parents’ company every Thanksgiving and Christmas for thirty years.
* * *
Dorrie and Bruce flew into Hartford on Christmas Eve. They rented a car, as they always did, and drove to the classy, historic B&B Grace found for their stay, just a couple miles from the house. The plan was for them to celebrate with Bradley and Grace for three days before returning to the airport and catching another flight, this time to the Bahamas for their annual post-Christmas vacation.
Grace was excited about the visit, pleased to be planning a family gathering rather than piecing together what she would do with her days off other than work. She and Dorrie had exchanged e-mails about logistics and food—Grace assuring Dorrie that she was happy to prepare the Hanovers’ traditional roast beef dinner on Christmas Eve. The popovers, mashed potatoes, salad, and broccoli casserole, Grace told Dorrie, who had suggested other menu options because Grace was a vegetarian, would give Grace plenty to eat. And Grace was looking forward to making a Buche de Noel, a holiday dessert Dorrie had briefly mentioned as something she’d love to one day prepare for Christmas. Grace printed out the recipes Dorrie had sent her via e-mail and copied them onto five-by-seven index cards for her little file box, which she hadn’t used much since her divorce. It was her grandmother’s recipe file that Grace had routinely consulted when she was a teenager and routinely preparing dinner for her mother and grandparents. It had been left in Grace’s room the night she left the house. There was no note, but its presence indicated that Laurie wanted her to have it, a goodbye gift. An interest in cooking, it seemed, was one of the only things she and her grandmother had in common. Laurie had prided herself on the casseroles and traditional side dishes she had made over the years for church suppers. Grace had not had much occasion to consult the file since she was no longer cooking for Kenny and had become a vegetarian. When Grace cooked for herself, she often downloaded healthy recipes from the Internet.
An hour before Dorrie and Bruce’s scheduled arrival at the house, Grace took a shower and dressed in the red cashmere dress she had purchased online for the occasion. Bradley put his hands on her stomach and said, “I still can’t figure out how you swallowed that basketball.” She smiled at him, in his pressed shirt and sport coat, and reached out to knot the tie his mother had given him the previous Christmas. Bradley told her that every year, Dorrie bought a red-and-green tie at a church bazaar and then rolled and stuffed it into the toe of the stocking she had made for him when he was a young boy.
Just twenty minutes before Dorrie and Bruce were scheduled to arrive at the house, Grace realized she had forgotten flowers for the table. “Oh no,” she said.
Bradley, who was setting up the bar on the kitchen counter, turned to look at her. “What is it?”
“I forgot the flowers.”
“That’s okay. We’ve got the red candles.” He took the ice buck
et to the freezer and filled it. When he turned back to face Grace, she was still looking at the table. “I can go,” he said. “I can get some flowers.”
“Thank you,” she said. “But I need to go. I won’t know what I want until I see what’s available.” What Grace didn’t say was that she didn’t want the kind of flowers Bradley would most likely bring home. Because he was not overly interested in flowers, they were all the same to him; the dyed, carnation-heavy arrangements in the grocery store he had presented her with on two occasions looked just as good to him as the fresh, lush offerings at a florist. Grace wanted beautiful flowers for the table, some red roses perhaps, or a poinsettia centerpiece. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed the keys to her car. “I’ll be right back. The florist is just around the corner on Main Street.”
Bradley pulled his phone out of his pocket and entered some data. “They close at five, Grace.”
“That gives me twelve minutes,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Can I do something to help you while you’re gone?”
“We’re good,” said Grace. “As soon as the flowers are on the table, we’ll be ready to receive your parents.”
Grace grabbed her wool cape from the coat closet and pulled it over her head. She stepped into her boots and pulled on her gloves, then walked out the door into the dark, immediately feeling the damp cold. It was supposed to snow any minute. She inched her way down the steps, which were still icy even though Bradley had sprinkled them with salt, and got into her car and backed carefully out of the driveway. While her Cadillac was the perfect summertime vehicle, it was a far less desirable choice in the winter. The convertible top did not seal out the cold as effectively as it once had, and the rear wheel drive made fish-tailing a regular occurrence on slippery roads. When it had snowed a couple weeks before, Grace and Bradley had driven his car for their commute to work. Still, they both loved the Cadillac; it was their vehicle of choice.
It Started in June Page 13
