by Zoe Fishman
“Seriously,” agreed Mona.
As I left the bridge and drove toward the light, a bike messenger suddenly swerved in front of me, causing me to slam on the brakes.
“Watch your ass, fucknut!” I yelled.
“You’re fine,” said Mona calmly. “No damage done.”
“What happened? What happened?” asked Ray anxiously.
“Just some moron bike messenger. Sarah handled it like a pro.”
“Good work. You definitely don’t see a lot of those in Farmwood.”
“No you do not.”
I took a deep breath as we waited at the red light. Mona’s doctor was in SoHo, which wasn’t far. I had taken us three-quarters of the way through the journey, we were still alive, and the car was intact. All good things. I couldn’t believe that I was doing it. I was driving.
Mona’s technique had been a brilliant one. Instead of swim lessons, she had just thrown me into the deep end. Not without floaties, of course; in this case the floaties were both the lessons I had taken with Ray and, literally, Ray himself—if only in audible form.
We ambled along through Wall Street, the suited-up men and panty-hosed women who walked its sidewalks trotting along ever so efficiently in the post-rain air. With a left turn into SoHo, the scenery changed significantly—impossibly willowy models and trust-fund twentysomethings in cashmere ski caps even though it couldn’t have been less than sixty-five degrees out sashayed down the street, barking into their cell phones as poorly dressed tourists cluelessly held up the foot traffic. Mona rattled out driving directions patiently, and before I knew it, I was parking in a garage and the entire ordeal was over.
“She did it, Ray,” said Mona proudly as she beamed at me. “She fucking did it.”
“Aw, I knew she would. Good job, girl.”
“Thanks.” A lump formed in my throat. It had been a long time since I had been this proud of myself.
“See you when you get back, Sarah. Lookin’ forward to talking shop about the business. I got some good ideas, I think.”
“Me too, Ray. Thanks for being my safety net.”
“You’re your own safety net. Mona, best of luck to you. I hope everything works out with, well, you know.”
“Thanks, Ray. I appreciate that.”
I hung up and looked at Mona. “Mona, I cannot believe that I did that.”
“Believe it! I knew you could do it.”
“You did? Really? You weren’t even a little bit nervous?”
“Well shit yeah, I was nervous, but I knew you could do it.”
We got out of the car and I handed her the keys. “Mona, I could have killed you.”
“But I was with you! Worst-case scenario, we would have gone out like a modern Thelma and Louise.”
I reached over and hugged her tightly. “Mona, I love you so much. You called me out. I needed that.”
“That’s what best friends do, silly. I love you, too.”
“But I haven’t called you out about Nate.”
“Are you kidding? You’ve been calling me out on it since you arrived.”
“Not really.”
“Sarah, you really have slammed me over the head with your opinion already.” I held open the door for her. “And trust me, I appreciate your You deserve a man you can be honest with bit.” She nodded to the security guard as she scribbled into the guest book. “The fact of the matter is that Nate totally is the kind of guy that I can be honest with. It’s me that’s the problem. I don’t want to get too close to anyone, so in order to avoid that I sabotage it myself.”
“Do you think it’s easier that way?” I followed her into the elevator.
“Well, I used to. Like I said earlier, I’m getting more comfortable with the idea of telling him.”
“So you’re going to tell him now, after the fact?” We got out on our floor.
“Oh, hell no. But I’ll be honest with him going forward.”
“Mona, that’s cheating. That’s like me driving to the bridge instead of across it.”
“Yeah, I know. Maybe I’ll change my mind, but I doubt it. What’s the difference between pretending I had a hysterectomy years ago and having one last week?”
“Well, a lot for you emotionally. You could use some support.”
“I have you for that.”
I shook my head at the back of hers as I followed her into the office.
18
In the car on the way home, I relished the comfort of the passenger seat like I never had before.
“For me, driving is like getting waxed,” I said to Mona, who was perched happily behind the steering wheel. Her doctor had given her a great report, and both of us were feeling especially pleased.
“How’s that?”
“You don’t want to do it, it hurts like hell, but once it’s done there’s no denying that you feel better. Also, you can go months without doing it and be just fine.”
“Interesting analogy. And gross—months without doing it? How does Josh stand it?” She pulled into a parking spot.
“Let’s pick up something delicious to eat,” suggested Mona as we began to walk toward her apartment. “Today calls for a celebratory something.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Oh fuck,” said Mona under her breath.
“What? Are you okay?” Her face was red. “What?”
I looked up. In front of us stood a very sweaty and perplexed-looking Nate, who appeared to be walking off the end of a vigorous run. He looked at Mona and then at me and then back at Mona in disbelief.
“Hi, Nate,” said Mona finally. She folded her arms in front of herself defensively.
“Uh, hi? Or should I say bonjour?” He wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand and for a moment I thought he was going to hurl it at us. “What the hell, Mona? That was a short trip.” I pretended to be fascinated by my phone.
I heard sniffling and looked up to find Mona crying. Now it was my turn to play people Ping-Pong. I looked at Nate and then at Mona and then back at Nate as I stood awkwardly to the side.
“I’m going to take off, Mo. I’ll call you later,” I said, not knowing where I was going but making the executive decision that it needed to be somewhere else, and fast. She mumbled something unintelligible in response. I rounded the corner and tried to determine what exactly I was going to do with myself. I called Kate.
“Good afternoon,” she answered. “How’s it going? Wait, don’t tell me that Mona is already having sex again!”
“No, not exactly. Can I come over?”
“Naturally. Price of admission is a bottle of red, though.”
“Done.”
Franklin lay on his play mat, occasionally gurgling and batting at the brightly colored jungle animals that hung from its overhead bar.
“Sarah, I can’t believe that you drove into the city. That is incredible. Did you tell Josh?”
“I haven’t yet, actually.” I grabbed a napkin off the coffee table and attempted to stuff it through the lid of an empty to-go coffee cup that lay beside it. Kate reached out and put her hand over mine.
“Please stop. You’re reminding me of what it felt like trying to get back into my regular jeans the other day.”
“What! Why would you do that? It hasn’t even been three months yet!”
“I know, I know, but I couldn’t help myself. Sarah, what’s happened to my abdomen is straight out of a horror movie. It looks like melted candle wax.”
“Kate, please. You grew a human being for what, nine months? Don’t rush things.”
“What are you doing now?” she asked. I looked down to find myself tearing the napkin to shreds. “What’s going on with you?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me. You’re acting like some sort of crazed goat.”
“Really, I’m fine.”
“Franklin doesn’t believe you. Look at him.” I looked down and he was giving me an mmmm-hmmmmm face. I laughed.
<
br /> “Isn’t that face hilarious? He started with it a few days ago. I would be talking to Ben or whomever but then look down and there he’d be, giving me that.”
“It’s pretty awesome.”
“So, what gives? Besides the obvious.”
“What’s the obvious?”
“Duh.” She smiled mischievously. “You’re pregnant.”
My face warmed. “Am not.”
“Are too.”
“How did you know?” I squealed.
She leaned forward and enveloped me in an eager hug. “Honey, please. You think you had me fooled the other night at dinner? Your glass of wine sat untouched, and now, after a run-in with your best friend’s supposedly duped boyfriend, you refuse one altogether? What am I, dumb? Oh, Sarah, I’m so happy for you guys! And for me! Franklin will have a cousin!”
“You’re not going to tell Ben, are you?”
“Honestly? Yes. But I swear that neither of us will leak the news to Sylvia. Scout’s honor. Word to the wise, keep the wee one under wraps from the ole mother-in-law as long as you possibly can. Lots of advice, that one. How far along are you now?”
“No idea. A month, maybe? I need to make a doctor appointment when I go home.”
“Well, you look the same. No fat face or anything.”
“Thanks, I think,” I replied. “It’s all been so surreal, what with Mona’s predicament and the fact that I’m here and Josh is in Farmwood.”
“I can’t even imagine. Just peering down at the word ‘pregnant’ on that stick was probably the most surreal moment of my life.” She picked up Franklin from the floor. “I’m going to go put him in his crib. I’m attempting to start nap training.” As she walked toward his room, she sang over her shoulder, “All of this glamour is waiting for you!” For no apparent reason, my eyes began to well.
Kate came back out and shut the nursery door softly, muffling Franklin’s whimpers. She handed me a Kleenex. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just overwhelmed at moments, I guess. It’s been so hard, what with Mona’s situation and all. Talk about shitty timing.”
“Seriously. Have you told her?”
“She was actually with me when I took the test. In the Barneys bathroom, of all places.”
“What?”
“Yeah, crazy, right? But Mona insisted. She’s been an amazing friend, and I mean that in the truest sense of the word.”
“Well, you’re a pretty amazing friend to her, too, coming up here to take care of her and all. You guys have something really special. I wish I had a girlfriend like that.”
“You don’t?”
“Not really. I met Ben in college, you know? He was my best friend from the beginning, which is all well and good until you need to talk to someone about stuff like your postpartum vagina. Thanks for listening the other night, by the way. I hope I didn’t scare you.”
“You did a little, but that’s okay.”
“I’ve loved having you here, Sarah. I hope we can stay close like we’ve become, even when you go back to Farmwood.”
“I’ve really liked getting closer to you too, Kate. I wish we had done it sooner.”
“Why didn’t we do it sooner?”
“I dunno. To be honest, I was pretty intimidated by you.”
“Me?” She pointed at herself. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be? You’re younger than me and you’ve got your own thriving business going, plus you dove headfirst into the baby pool and made pregnancy look like no big whoop. That’s intimidating.”
“No big whoop? Sarah, I think I was pretty candid about the fact that pregnancy is indeed a big whoop.”
“Well yes, you were—you are—incredibly candid, but that’s just what I mean. Your openness makes it seem less terrifying somehow, even though you would think it would have the opposite effect. I think it’s because even if your labia were blue or labor felt like a piano coming out of your butt, or your postpartum vagina has a penchant for fried foods, you’re still you, without any apologies.”
“Is that your way of saying that I should apologize for who I am?”
“No, not at all!”
“I know, I’m just messing with you. And thanks, I guess. Although I was intimidated by you too, you know.”
“Why?”
“You were a ball-busting businesswoman!”
I laughed. “Kate, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.”
“No, you were! Working for a big company, always on your phone putting out fires. You always seemed to have your shit together in a way that I just didn’t.”
“Kate, I definitely did not have my shit together. I may have worked like a dog, but I was miserable.”
“Yes, but you would never have known it from the outside looking in. I was shocked when Ben told me that you guys were moving and that you were quitting your job. Absolutely shocked.”
“Why, because it seemed like such a cop-out?”
“Not at all. Because it just seemed so out of character for the you I thought you were.”
“The me you thought I was.”
“Yeah. And by the way, I’m not an open book about everything. My labia is one thing, but inside my head is quite another.”
“What’s happening inside your head?”
“So much. My entire identity has been forever changed by Franklin. My priorities, my work ethic, my marriage—everything. Figuring out how to put the pieces into this new puzzle is fairly exhausting.”
“I’m sure. But he’s still so new. I think you need to give yourself a break. There’s no way to have it all figured out at this stage in the game.”
“But that’s the thing! America basically tells you that you have to have it figured out at this stage in the game. How else do you explain the standard three-month maternity leave? It’s nuts!” She shook her fists in the air, looking remarkably like Franklin in the process. “And I don’t even get three months, since I’m the one paying myself essentially. My partner, Kim, is dropping hints that she wants me back sooner rather than later.”
“Oh wow, that’s tough.”
“It is. Although I guess I shouldn’t complain so much. I can do a lot of the cooking here if I need to, or bring Franklin with me. Those are the pros of my line of work. Then again, how the hell can I expect to focus on making a quiche when he’s around? I haven’t figured out how to quiet the mommy part of my brain yet.”
“That’s the thing. Do we ever quiet it, once we become part of the club? I just found out that I was pregnant—I’m not even a mom yet, officially—and already my brain is going ninety miles a minute.”
“It’s crazy. You know, I don’t think this happens to men in the same way. Yes, they become fathers, but it doesn’t seem to overwhelm their every waking moment the way it does for women. Take, for example, Franklin’s nighttime feedings. I mostly do them all, but sometimes Ben gives him a bottle. After I feed him and get back in bed, my mind races, and I mean races, for a good hour, cataloging all of the various Franklin duties and questions and milestones, blah blah blah. No matter what I do, I cannot shut it off. Ben, on the other hand, gets back in bed and, no lie, is snoring again in two minutes. It’s unreal.”
“Yeah, they do seem to be able to shut things down in a way that we’re biologically incapable of. On the rare occasions that Josh and I get in an argument, I’m stewing over it for days, and he’s back to himself in a half hour.”
“Maybe it’s not a man thing but a Simon thing.”
“Maybe. Although Sylvia can hold a grudge.”
“That’s for damn sure! Do you remember when she lost her shit because my wedding thank-you card to her cousin was late?”
“I do! She practically threw the Seder plate across the table.” We both laughed.
“All gender differences aside, Ben is an amazing dad.” Kate smiled. “Just overhearing him talking to Franklin melts my cold, cold heart, much less seeing them together. It’s incredible. I didn’t expect to be s
uch a sap.”
“I think Josh will be great too. He’s so patient.”
“I have a feeling you won’t be so bad yourself.”
“You do? How come?”
“You just have a way about you. Remember that time, right before Ben was, unbeknownst to me, about to propose? I called you up, crying, because you were the closest thing to family I had here and I didn’t know who else to turn to. I was convinced that he was seeing someone else.”
“I do! We went for drinks and I tried to talk you off the ledge. You thought he was cheating because he was making all of these secretive phone calls and going on vague appointments, when really he was finalizing your ring design.”
“I was beside myself! And ridiculous in retrospect. But you were so patient with me that night, listening to me go on and on and not once patronizing me.”
“I was so nervous that I would ruin his surprise. I think I drank a bottle of wine myself.”
Kate laughed. “Yeah, we were both pretty tipsy. On the way home, we made the cabby pull over for pizza.”
“He refused to let us eat in his cab! Kept the meter running as we inhaled it at the counter. I forgot about that night.”
“Well, it meant a lot to me.”
“I’m glad I helped. That was a fun night. Our first date without the boys.”
“And our last, until this visit. Here’s to many more.” She smiled and raised her glass. “You really are gonna be a great mom, Sarah. Welcome to the club, sis.”
19
I climbed the stairs slowly, careful to move out of the way of the runners skipping down them, sweaty and focused. Although there was a crisp edge to the air, it was subtle, and the strap of my messenger bag had created a horizontal line of sweat across my chest and abdomen. I shifted it now, frowning at the giant wrinkle it had also created. I was on my way to meet Meghan for lunch in the city and had decided to follow through on the vow I had made to walk the Brooklyn Bridge.
I began what was a laborious climb up the bridge’s initial slope, wondering whether my pregnancy was slowing me down or I was just woefully out of shape. I looked out onto the water and park below, a montage of photos that didn’t actually exist and in which I looked effortlessly beautiful flashing through my mind. From twenty-one to thirty-six I had trekked back and forth across this bridge for one reason or another, and always it was cathartic. Something about its architecture, the sun in the sky, and the clouds on the horizon always cleansed me in a very specific way.
