It Started in June

by Susan Kietzman

  “And say what?”

  “Ask him what he wants. Ask him about his commitment to you and to Hope. Ask him if he wants out.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll like his answers.”

  They gathered up the clothing they had both tried on and walked out of the dressing room, handing the rejected pieces to the saleswoman who had been helping them. “Or maybe you will,” said Shannon.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  They walked out of the store and onto the sidewalk before Shannon responded. She wanted to say that Grace’s relationship with Bradley was going to come to an end. And if it was destined for failure, then why not get on with it. Instead, she said, “From the very beginning you’ve known that this might not work, Grace. A relationship that begins with a pregnancy wanted by just one of the two involved is not exactly fairytale material.”

  * * *

  When Grace arrived home a few minutes before five o’clock, she found Bradley sitting on the couch with Hope, who was fussing. “Boy, are we glad to see you,” he said. “I think she’s hungry.”

  Grace put her shopping bag and purse on the floor and then walked to the couch, with outstretched arms to receive Hope. “It’s okay,” she said to her daughter. “Mommy’s home.” As soon as she sat and gave Hope access to her breast, the fussing stopped and the eating began. “How was your afternoon?”

  “It was fine,” said Bradley, getting up off the couch. “I’m going to get a beer. Do you want something?”

  “A seltzer water with lime would be perfect.”

  When he returned to the couch with their drinks, he said, “I’m sorry, Grace.”

  Knowing what he was referring to but wanting him to name it, Grace said, “Sorry about what?”

  “About Rachel.”

  She took a sip. “Are you sorry that Rachel came over, or are you sorry that I caught you?” She assumed Bradley knew the right answer to this question.

  “I’m sorry she came over,” he said.

  “Tell me the story.”

  * * *

  Bradley had been anticipating this conversation all afternoon, but he had yet to figure out what he was going to tell Grace and what he was going to leave out. He could better list what he wanted to leave out: the flirting at the bar the night he went to the city without Grace; the groping session outside the bar, the suggestive text messages and his response to them; and the topless trick on the deck and the kiss in the water that had happened just that afternoon. If he told her any of that, she would tell him to pack his belongings and get out.

  The flip side of this argument was that if Grace told him to pack his belongings and get out of the house, he would be out, not only of the house but of the relationship. And maybe that was a good thing. He didn’t know why this doubt about being a father to Hope, about committing fully to Grace nagged him, but it did. No matter how firmly he told himself that he was in this relationship because he wanted to be in it, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking otherwise, from thinking that he was in this relationship more out of guilt than desire. Was that it? When Grace had told him about the pregnancy and about his option of staying or leaving, he thought she wanted him to stay. Isn’t that what everyone going through an unexpected, life-changing event wants, a partner?

  Maybe he was simply projecting onto her what he would want, if he were in a bind or facing a difficult decision. He would want help. He would want advice. He would want someone committed to seeing him through to the other side of the snarl, to where the path was smooth and straight again. But maybe that’s not what Grace wanted. Maybe she actually wanted to raise Hope on her own, but had felt obligated to ask Bradley to share in the experience. As he got to know Grace better and learn more about her background, he realized that she could overcome any adversity because she already had. Bradley also realized that he could have been wrong about her. Maybe she wanted him gone, so she could live her life the way she wanted to live it. And maybe he wanted to be gone, too.

  “I don’t know where to start, Grace.”

  “Okay,” said Grace coolly. “We need to talk about this, but maybe now isn’t the best time.” And she got up off the couch with Hope and walked out to the deck, closing the sliding screen door behind her.

  CHAPTER 50

  When Dorrie called Bradley a few days before the July Fourth weekend and asked when she and Bruce could come for a visit, that they were both anxious to see the baby, Bradley asked her to come, if they could, for the holiday. Dorrie responded that they had no plans, and said the minute she hung up the phone she would check flight availability.

  Five minutes later, the e-mail confirmation of Dorrie’s and Bruce’s nonrefundable tickets landed in Bradley’s in-box. He picked up the phone and called Grace.

  “Hey,” she said, picking up her phone on the third ring. “I was just feeding Hope. How are you?”

  “Just about the same as when I saw you three hours ago,” said Bradley. “How about you—any major changes in your life?”

  “Status quo.”

  “Excellent news,” he said. “And I have some news for you. My parents are coming for the weekend.”

  “This weekend as in Fourth of July weekend?”

  “Yes. My mother called me this morning, asking when she and my dad could come and see the baby. I guess they want to see us, too, but not nearly as much. And before I knew what had come out of my mouth, I’d asked her for this weekend. I hope this is okay. I know I should have called you first.”

  “No, no,” said Grace. “I think it’s great they are coming.”

  “And I’ll help with everything, so you don’t feel like you’re chained to the kitchen.”

  “I accept your offer.”

  * * *

  True to his word, by the time his parents had arrived, Bradley had already made a pasta salad, a three bean salad, a cheese and tomato pie, and three dozen chocolate chip cookies. This was atypical behavior for Bradley, and Grace was proud of his effort to help her. Of course, she could have pointed out that he was the one who had invited his parents to come, and it could, therefore, be assumed that it was incumbent on him to plan and prepare the meals, but she kept this to herself. What she showed instead was appreciation. Bradley had made her aware of her hesitancy in expressing gratitude, and she was working on it. Plus, she thought his cooking and baking indicated an increased sensitivity to others on his part, something she had recently talked about with him.

  What they had not talked about was Rachel Spitzer. Grace suspected that it, whatever it was, had started with Rachel, who was a very attractive and assertive young woman. She had pushed her way into Bradley’s life, not the other way around. Bradley had been extremely attentive to Grace until late in the pregnancy, when the no-sex rule was in place. Was that when his undivided attention first split?

  Grace had become absorbed with her pregnancy and impending motherhood. She had assumed Bradley could take care of himself while she took care of the baby growing inside her. And this was probably where Rachel stepped in, with her youth, her beauty, her charisma, and her non-pregnant body. And Bradley, unknowingly maybe, had allowed Rachel access. That’s all it really was, an allowance. He might have looked at her for a second longer than what might be described in a business meeting as typical colleague eye contact. He might have smiled at one of her jokes. He could have given her a pat on the back for something she said or did; it didn’t take much. And Rachel must have known from these small gestures that Bradley’s affection for Grace was not absolute. At that point, he had not been a father. And then, like now, he wasn’t married.

  Grace figured she had some making up to do with him, just as he was attempting to do with her. They had agreed, in their last conversation, that if their relationship was going to work, it needed to be the top priority for both of them. And what better way to show Bradley how much she cared about him than to be kind, loving, and attentive to his parents. This was not a difficult assignment; Grace liked them both. She was looking forward t
o the weekend, to having someone other than herself, Bradley, and Hope to focus on.

  * * *

  They all spent Saturday afternoon on the beach. Bruce and Bradley set up the baby tent Dorrie had found and ordered online so that Hope could be both with them and in a shaded area. Dorrie had requested expedited shipping, she announced to the group, so it had arrived at the house the day before they did. And Bradley had gone to Target that morning for additional sand chairs and two large umbrellas.

  Grace hadn’t had such a relaxing afternoon in recent memory. They sat under the umbrellas and talked. They took turns walking on the beach and swimming in the water, which, due to a solid week of hot days, had warmed up nicely for the weekend. It was when Bradley and Bruce were in the water, for their third or fourth dip of the afternoon, that Dorrie turned to Grace and asked her about her mother. “How is everything going?”

  “Well, I think,” said Grace. “As you already know, our second meeting went much better than our first, thanks to your help.”

  “Oh, I think you would have figured it out by yourself. An apology goes a long way, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” said Grace. “And while we’ve made progress, there’s so much more to share and discuss.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  Grace stopped there, saying nothing in response to Dorrie’s comment. There was no reason to tell Dorrie that her grandparents and biological father were dead, or, for that matter, that Robin thought Grace was still married to Kenny. Grace had not even shared this with Bradley.

  Dorrie seemed to pick up on Grace’s silence because she changed the subject of their conversation. “It’s so nice to be here with you,” she said. “You live in such a beautiful part of the world. And your house, Grace, is sensational.”

  “I am so lucky to have it,” said Grace. “Of course, Bradley loves it, too.”

  “Who wouldn’t?” said Dorrie, stretching her arms out in front of her. “With this view?”

  “Bradley tells me he’s related to the Beach Boys,” said Grace, smiling.

  Dorrie laughed. “He loved their music when he was a little boy.”

  “He’s still got one of their CDs in his car.”

  Dorrie clapped her hands. “I love that!”

  “Me too,” said Grace.

  Dorrie leaned in closer to Grace. “And how are things progressing with you two? Have you given any more thought to getting married?”

  Grace smiled as she looked out at the water. Dorrie’s directness was one of the things she continued to love about her. “No,” said Grace. “Nothing about marriage.”

  Grace was actually open to the idea of marrying Bradley, but not for the obvious reason. Yes, she loved Bradley, but she didn’t particularly care if he wanted to put a ring on her finger. No, she was more interested in marrying Bradley so she could be an official daughter-in-law to Dorrie and Bruce, so that she could have a proper family. She realized how silly this sounded; she had, after all, been with Dorrie and Bruce just four times. But she liked both of them tremendously. Bruce was wise, insightful, and sweet, and Dorrie was smart, perceptive, and honest. Grace could not think of better in-laws. Kenny’s parents had been nice enough. But they hadn’t been interested in having a close relationship with Grace. They liked Grace and they approved of her union to their son, but they preferred to do their own thing. If Grace married Bradley, she would become a Hanover. She would become part of a family, a regular family.

  They all sat on the beach until almost seven o’clock, when they agreed to break camp and cart the chairs, umbrellas, tent, and drink cooler back to the house. After everyone was showered and Hope was fed and asleep in her crib, they sat on the deck around the candlelit table with drinks Bradley had made in the blender. They ate the delicious vegetarian food he’d cooked and talked about the perfection of summer days on the Connecticut shoreline.

  * * *

  The rest of the weekend was much the same, in that Dorrie and Bruce were easy, helpful guests who could and would talk about anything knowledgeably, from Freud’s erroneous theories and the preponderance of caesarean births to global warming and the country’s broken political system. Grace had not been raised in a household concerned with current events. She had been taught from an early age that heated discussion of secular issues was un-Christian, not that Dorrie and Bruce and Bradley got particularly heated that weekend. For such an opinionated woman, Dorrie appeared to know when to quit.

  * * *

  After Dorrie and Bruce left for the airport, Grace turned to look at Bradley, who was sitting on the couch next to her. “So you think she wants us to get married?”

  “I do,” said Bradley.

  “Do you?” asked Grace.

  “Yes, I think that’s what she wants.”

  “I mean do you want to get married?”

  “Do you?” he asked, handing their sleeping baby to Grace.

  “I think it’s certainly something to consider.”

  “Me too,” said Bradley.

  And that was it. Grace said nothing more, and Bradley checked his phone.

  CHAPTER 51

  Grace’s thorough search for childcare produced nothing close to the office that met with her satisfaction. Her first choice ended up being a grandmother who lived locally, on the other side of town from Grace’s beach house. The woman, Marjorie Mason, seemed to understand Grace’s reluctance to go back to work, to leave her baby in someone else’s care. Marjorie was already caring for a six-month-old and a ten-month-old; her third charge, a nine-month-old, had the week before moved out of town with his family. So, Hope would take his spot. And Marjorie would accept no more; three was her limit. As a recently retired nurse, she was well qualified, and she lived in a cozy and clean house. What Grace liked most was the way she held Hope in her arms and against her chest. Hope settled in as she did with Grace, indicating an instant, obvious connection. Marjorie had a car with three infant seats already strapped into the backseat, in case of an emergency, or if a parent, for whatever reason, was not able to pick up a child and needed him or her delivered. Marjorie also had a lightweight stroller that could hold three babies. She firmly believed that fresh air was beneficial to a child’s health and well-being, as well as to her own, and took the babies for short walks several times a day in good weather.

  Grace had been able to negotiate with Paul to work two days a week from home. She would still, as a senior member of the staff, need to have a presence in the office. Plus, he was reluctant to set a precedent, he told her, that would enable others to request virtual employment. He granted Grace’s request mostly because she was the firm’s top performer, he said. So, they agreed that she would be at the office on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, with Wednesdays and Fridays at home.

  The last Monday in July, Grace woke an hour earlier than normal. She showered, dressed, ate breakfast, and fed Hope, and then repacked Hope’s diaper bag, double-checking the number of diapers, washcloths, outfits, pacifiers, and toys. She packed three bottles of breast milk in the small cooler she had purchased for this purpose, and then sat under the umbrella on the back deck, with Hope in her arms, while Bradley got ready. They drove to Marjorie’s, and Grace took Hope and all her belongings into the house. After giving Hope a peck on the cheek, Grace hurried back out to the car, buckled herself into the passenger seat, and said, “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  After fifteen minutes of nothing but the radio, Bradley turned to her and said, “Are you okay?”

  Grace continued to look out the windshield rather than at Bradley. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re not okay.”

  “You are very perceptive.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Now she looked at him. “And say what, Bradley? That I’ve left my baby with a complete stranger? That I hate that I have to return to work? That work means absolutely nothing to me when compared to being with Hope? That you will never understand the way I feel because your conne
ction with your daughter occurs only when you have nothing better to do?”

  “Hey, that’s not fair,” said Bradley. “Of course I have a connection with her.”

  “Yeah, when your phone battery is dead.”

  “Meaning what, Grace? That I choose to be on my phone instead of interacting with my daughter?” Grace looked out the windshield and said nothing. “You know, you can just say you’re sad. You don’t have to pick a fight with me because you’d rather be home with Hope than on your way to work.” Nothing. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but going back to work will actually, I think, be good for you. You will have something else to occupy your thoughts.”

  “I don’t want anything else to occupy my thoughts.”

  “Okay,” said Bradley. “Okay. I’m just going to leave it there. You are clearly in no mood to talk about your feelings—which should not surprise me—so I’ll just listen to the radio.”

  “Fine.”

  When Bradley pulled the car into the office parking lot, he thought about telling Grace what was waiting for her inside, that he had planned a welcome back party for her with assorted pastries, including her favorite scones, and freshly brewed, fair trade (their colleague Katrina had insisted!) coffee. But he decided to say nothing, even though she did not like to be surprised.

  Knowing she’d want a cup of coffee as soon as she got to the office, Bradley had asked his coworkers to gather in the kitchen. So everyone was packed into the eating area when Grace, followed by Bradley, walked in. “Welcome back, Grace!” they shouted in unison. Grace turned her head to look at Bradley, giving him the stink eye.

  “I saw that,” said Paul, coming in behind them. “And yes, this was completely Bradley’s idea. Welcome back, indeed, Grace. We’ve missed you.”

  “You all are so kind,” said Grace. “You can only guess how much I love surprises.” Everyone in the room laughed. “Seriously, thank you for this warm welcome. It’s nice to see you all again. Now please, eat this incredible food, and then get back to work!” They all laughed again—well, everyone but Rachel, who stood in the corner of the room with her arms folded across her chest. When Grace made happenstance eye contact with her, Rachel smiled. Grace shifted her neutral gaze to another face.