It Started in June

by Susan Kietzman

  * * *

  An hour later, Bradley walked into Grace’s office. “How are you doing?”

  She gave him a warm smile before saying, “I am buried in e-mail.”

  He sat in one of the chairs facing her desk. “Yeah, but you can delete most of them. All that stuff is already taken care of.”

  “Some of it has been taken care of, and some of it has been very patiently waiting for my attention.”

  “Well, tell them to get in line then,” said Bradley. “What are you doing for lunch?”

  “Pumping my breasts.”

  Bradley smiled at her. “Can I watch?”

  She winked at him. “Hey,” she said. “Thanks for the party this morning. It’s not really my thing, but I appreciate the sentiment behind it.”

  “I crave appreciation for my sentiment.”

  “I know you do.”

  “Have you called Marjorie to check in on Hope?”

  “Twice.”

  “And?”

  “Apparently, she can survive without me.”

  Bradley stood. “Imagine that,” he said before walking out the door.

  CHAPTER 52

  By the end of her first week back, Grace seemed more relaxed about the drop-off at Marjorie’s, and was more talkative on the commute. She questioned Bradley about his more challenging accounts and made suggestions for increased, better exposure. She asked how his mentoring project was progressing, without mentioning Rachel by name. She told him her thoughts about winning a very lucrative account with the largest car dealership in the city. In short, they talked about work, rather than Hope. And Bradley was pleased with this shift in emphasis, grateful for conversation that didn’t include poopy diapers or regurgitated milk, or Grace’s overwhelming and unexpected love of motherhood.

  This had been her mantra, her one-hit wonder, since Hope’s arrival, and Bradley had grown tired of it. He loved that Grace loved being a mother. And he loved Hope, albeit in a more distant kind of way than Grace loved their daughter. But he missed the old Grace, who Grace was before she became a mother. In the four short months Hope had been a part of their lives, she had displaced Bradley, taking over the number one position in an effortless coup. It was wrong, he knew, for a father to be jealous of his child. But he was. Hope used up all of Grace’s energy and attention.

  And while Bradley occasionally chastised himself for his need to reclaim Grace’s affection, he rationalized his feelings with how his relationship with Grace started—with sex in a car! He could still remember every detail of that night, the way she looked at him, the way she talked to him, the way she’d touched him, the way it felt to be inside her. But their brief, pre-pregnancy relationship had been fabulous for more reasons than the soul-shaking sex. It had also been fun, with their never boring conversation, their exchange of ideas, their mutual interests, their work successes. All of that connectedness disappeared when Hope was born. Grace had shifted all of her intensity from Bradley to Hope, leaving Bradley feeling as if he’d been shot into outer space from a high-powered cannon and left floating alone in the dark, with only the sound of his breathing (and his phone) to keep him company.

  This resurrected longing for the closeness they once shared prompted Bradley to ask Grace out on a date.

  “A date?” This was Thursday evening, and they were on the way home from work. Grace, as arranged with Paul, would work from home tomorrow.

  “Yes, a date. We’ll put on nice clothes, go out to dinner, just the two of us, like we used to.”

  “Without Hope then.”

  “Yes, without Hope.”

  “Who will watch her while we are out?”

  Bradley had anticipated this question because Grace had left their daughter with no one but Bradley, his parents, and, now, Marjorie. But there were a million babysitters out there. Bradley had seen their advertisements—a name and phone number printed on vertical strips at the bottom of the page for parents to tear off—in coffee shops and bookstores. High school and college kids were always looking for extra cash. What could be easier than looking after a four-month-old, who went to bed at seven thirty? Talk about easy money! But because Grace would consider a high school or college student too immature to care for Hope, Bradley thought he should start with another option. “How about Marjorie?”

  “Marjorie?”

  “Yeah, you know Marjorie. She’s the one who watches our child while we work. In fact, we’re on our way to her house right now.”

  Grace smiled at him. “Very funny.”

  He laughed, happy with her smile. “I’m serious though. I wonder if she’d consider coming to our house in the evening once in a while, so we can get out together as a couple again.”

  “I don’t think I want to leave her, after being away from her all day.”

  “So we go out on a Friday night, when you’ve been with her all day. Or on a Saturday, after we’ve both been home with her.” Bradley wanted to say more about how important it was for them to feel romantic about each other again, how they needed to be defined as a couple as well as parents, how much he missed being with her. But he stopped himself. He could tell by Grace’s reaction to his suggestion of going out without Hope that this thought had not occurred to her.

  Bradley pulled the car into Marjorie’s driveway. Grace unbuckled her seat belt. “Should I ask her now?” she asked.

  “Why not?”

  Five minutes later, Grace emerged from the house carrying the diaper bag and Hope, already tucked into the baby carrier that also served as a car seat. She secured Hope’s carrier in the seat behind Bradley and then got back into the passenger seat. She turned to Bradley and said, “Marjorie is available and very willing to babysit for Hope on the occasional evening.”

  “That’s great,” said Bradley. “Did you ask her for a specific date?”

  “I did,” said Grace. “She’ll be at our house at seven o’clock tomorrow night.”

  Bradley leaned over and kissed Grace on the cheek. “I can hardly wait.”

  * * *

  Grace had a productive day on Friday, as she had on Wednesday. She was able to schedule client calls during Hope’s typical nap times, and she was able to plow through her e-mail, with Hope alternating between her bouncy infant seat and a walker. Now that Hope could hold her head up, she could spend more time in a vertical position. Grace was also able to build several short play times and a lunchtime walk into her day because she had no other distractions—no pop-into-her-office conversations that lasted twenty minutes instead of two; no impromptu meetings; no last-minute but definitely mandatory lunch invitations from Paul or Dana—to keep her from getting through her workload. She would be able to make a good case, after only two days of actual practice, that working from home yielded more tangible product than working in an office full of people.

  When Bradley walked through the door at six, Grace had just wrapped up and sent to Paul the client analysis report he would be expecting on Monday morning. “How was your day?” asked Bradley, walking the short distance to the couch and kissing Grace’s lips. “Are you ready for our romantic evening?”

  “My day was nothing short of life changing,” said Grace, putting her laptop aside, so she could stand and wrap her arms around Bradley’s neck.

  “That good?” He reached up with one hand and loosened his tie.

  “Working from home is the best. I get so much more done here.”

  “Oh, you mean without someone, who will remain nameless, walking into your office every ten minutes to report a jammed copier or corporate credit card denial?”

  Grace laughed. Bradley was talking about the intern the firm had hired back for the summer. Martin was capable but very needy. “Did Martin miss me today?”

  “For a nanosecond,” said Bradley. “And then he figured out he could bug Vanessa.”

  “Poor Vanessa.”

  Bradley gently removed Grace’s arms from his neck. “I’m going to take a shower to freshen up a bit for our date,” he said. �
��Are you going to feed Grace, or do you want me to give her a bottle?”

  “I’m going to breastfeed her,” said Grace. “So, you go ahead, and I’ll take a shower after you.”

  Bradley walked in their bedroom and called back over his shoulder, “I’ll be out in fifteen to take over.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Marjorie had arrived and was settled onto the couch with a book and the latest People magazine. The baby monitor, showing an awake but contented baby on its tiny screen, was sitting on the table next to her, as was her cell phone, already programmed with both Grace’s and Bradley’s numbers. “Everything will be fine, Grace,” she said. “You go off and have a good time. You too, Bradley.”

  Outside the house, Bradley walked with Grace to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for her. He was taking a chance doing this, but he was hoping the nature of the evening had put her in the mood for chivalrous behavior. Usually she was not. She had made clear to Bradley that she could enter and exit doors and sit on chairs without his participation. Her one exception to the rule seemed to be schlepping groceries from the car. After a trip to the local Stop & Shop, Grace would pop the hatch and then walk into the house, leaving the cloth bags in place for Bradley.

  When she sat, she looked up at him. “I know you can open doors by yourself,” said Bradley.

  “Yes, I can,” said Grace. “But thank you for opening it for me tonight. Just so you know, my regular repugnance about the princess treatment will return in the morning, right after you serve me breakfast in bed.”

  Bradley laughed and then jogged around the front of the car to the driver’s seat. As soon as he sat down, he pulled his phone from the pocket of his blazer. “We have two options,” he said. “We can go to Gina’s for the water view, or we can go to The Chart House in town, which actually has three vegetarian selections, two of them involving risotto.”

  “I love risotto.”

  “I know.”

  “Where do you want to go? Do you want steak?”

  Bradley hit the button on his Open Table app to cancel the reservation at The Chart House, and then said, “Let’s go to Gina’s. I want to sit outside and listen to the waves on the shore.”

  “And gaze at me by starlight?”

  “That,” said Bradley, putting his Honda into gear, “was my very next line.”

  Instead of talking about their past or their present over dinner, Grace and Bradley talked about what they wanted for the future. It started with work. Grace wanted to become a partner and work full-time for just another five years or so. After that, she wanted to work only when Hope was in school, so she could be a full-time mother to her whenever she was at home. Bradley, too, wanted to become a partner, even though he knew his path to the top was much longer than Grace’s. He wanted to buy a boat, so they all could get out on the water in addition to getting into it. And he thought a small addition to the house might work well, another bathroom and an office.

  “I like that idea,” said Grace. “The office could also be a bedroom.”

  “Oh, like a guest room,” said Bradley, “for when my parents come to visit.”

  Grace reached for the single glass of wine she would have that evening. “Or a bedroom for another child. You know, if we decide to have another child.”

  Bradley, who saw most things coming, did not anticipate this comment from Grace. Her words jolted him, like an electric shock. Another baby? He studied her face. Was she testing him? Was she teasing him? He couldn’t tell. But he was resolved to let nothing get in the way of his happiness that evening, to allow what appeared to be a spontaneous comment ruin what he had set in place. The best course of action came to him seconds later. He smiled at her and said, “I love being here with you. Thank you for saying yes tonight, for coming out on this date with me.”

  If Grace noticed the deliberate change of topic, she didn’t let on. “This is a perfect night,” she said. “Thank you for planning it. For opening my eyes to the beautiful world of babysitting.”

  Bradley laughed. “Let’s make a point of doing this a couple times a month. We need to make time for ourselves, for our relationship, Grace, and this is the best way to do it.”

  “I agree,” she said. “Plus, we’ll have all day tomorrow and Sunday with Hope.”

  “Yes,” said Bradley, trying his best to sound enthusiastic about it. His mind was still churning on Grace’s comment about having another baby. It was all he could do to be a father to Hope. He had to admit to himself that he could be more engaged with his daughter, that he could be a better father. But he missed his time with Grace—when it was just the two of them—before she was pregnant, before the arrival of their baby, before their spontaneous love affair turned into mundane grown-up life.

  CHAPTER 53

  Grace had been a light sleeper since childhood. Had the Bible stories her grandfather read to her made a lasting impression? Being awake and on guard was as important to Rick as eating and breathing. Consequently, everyone in the Taylor family would wake, whether from a Sunday afternoon nap or nighttime slumber, quickly and with clear heads. Now that Hope was a part of her life, Grace woke even faster when she heard a soft gurgle or sigh from the nursery. On this particular night, it was not sounds emanating from her child that woke Grace; it was a disturbing thought about her mother.

  Grace realized that she hadn’t heard from her mother in more than a month. This thought was immediately followed by the admission that she hadn’t contacted Robin either. Robin had not been part of her thoughts, and it seemed that she and Hope had not been part of Robin’s thoughts. What did this mean? Grace thought back to their conversation during their second meeting. They had talked about Disney World. Robin had, in fact, proposed a family trip to Orlando, a completely inappropriate suggestion. The idea that Grace, Hope, and Bradley (not Kenny) would vacation with a mother who’d had almost no contact with her child in a quarter century was delusional fantasy.

  Of course, Robin had also talked about the deaths of Rick and Laurie and her high school boyfriend, Bryan, Grace’s biological father. Robin hadn’t seemed particularly upset at the time, but it was hard for Grace to tell. She didn’t know her mother very well. Since hearing the news, Grace had not given any additional thought to the passing of her grandparents, mostly because she had worked so hard to block thoughts about them, about their negativity, their inflexibility, their refusal to love her. Her therapist had helped her with this, giving Grace mental exercises to trick and retrain her brain. Consequently, as Grace had indicated in her voice mail that day to Bradley, she really didn’t want to talk about it. Plus, Bradley had never brought it up. This may have been the result of his honoring Grace’s wishes, but it was more likely that Bradley had simply forgotten.

  And the boyfriend—Bryan? Grace had swept him from her mind before she left the restaurant that day. He hadn’t known about the pregnancy; he had never been a father to her. He meant as much to Grace as a stranger, less actually, since strangers have the capacity to act unselfishly, to accept responsibility. And while her heart felt something that could have been characterized as relief for a half second when Grace heard about Rick’s and Laurie’s passing, it registered nothing for Bryan.

  Grace rolled over onto her side, away from Bradley, realizing she was bothered more about the offhand Disney remark. Did Robin think she could erase the past with a ten-day trip to the Magic Kingdom? That they would all stroll through the park, hand in hand, remarking about the glorious sunshine and discussing dinner options like normal families? Was Robin serious, offering up the trip as a means to show Grace how much she cared, how much she had missed her? Or was she a con artist who had no intention of ever contacting Grace or seeing her granddaughter again?

  Grace rolled over onto her other side. She looked at Bradley, who was sleeping soundly, his passive face lit by the moonlight coming through the window. He hadn’t mentioned Robin either, hadn’t said, “Hey, Grace, what do you hear from your mother?” Maybe he h
adn’t said anything because he, like Grace, hadn’t thought about Robin over the last several weeks. Or maybe he hadn’t said anything because he already knew that trying to resurrect a dead relationship was futile, foolish. Maybe he’d even discussed it with Dorrie, who had advised him to say nothing. Grace thought back to her conversation that day with Dorrie, when Grace had relayed the awful remark she made to her mother about her departure from the house at eighteen being the happiest day in Robin’s life. Dorrie had said that Grace’s relationship with her mother was—what was it?—salvageable? That was the word Dorrie used. Grace hadn’t given it the consideration it deserved until now. What the word meant was that Grace’s relationship with her mother had the potential to be fixed. But the word had a negative connotation, didn’t it, a subtext indicating that the chances were not good. Maybe that’s why Dorrie had chosen the word, so that Grace would believe it was possible but understand that it wasn’t probable. Perhaps all along, Dorrie had thought the chance of success of Grace’s plan to reconnect with her mother was zero. She had asked about Robin when she and Bruce were visiting over the Fourth of July. But it had been very light conversation.

  So both Bradley and Dorrie knew that a happy reunion for Grace and Robin was little more than wishful thinking. Bruce and Shannon probably knew, too. But they all felt too sorry for Grace to be honest about it. Could this be true? Could they all be treating her like a child who is too young to understand?

  Grace kicked the sheet off and got out of bed. She went through the living room to the kitchen for a glass of water, which she chugged at the sink, wiping her wet mouth with the back of her hand afterward. She’d been an idiot, and she was being treated accordingly. She marched back into the bedroom and stood next to the bed on Bradley’s side. “Bradley,” she said. A heavy sleeper, he didn’t even move. “Bradley,” she said again, pushing his shoulder with her fingers.