by Zoe Fishman
“Yes.” I kissed him again.
“All right, you two, break it up,” announced Mona, striding through the door. “Making out is bad for the fetus.”
“Mona, you sly fox.” I walked over to hug her. “How long have you known about this?”
“Only a day or two. I think Josh was keeping a low profile, trying to spare my feelings.” She peeked around me and smiled at him. “What with my recent hysterectomy and all.” Nervous silence filled the room. “And that was sweet of you, Josh, really. But like I told Sar, the rest of the world’s procreation certainly isn’t going to come to a standstill while I get back on my feet. I love you guys and am really happy for you.”
“I love you too, Mona.” Josh walked up and took her hand. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of this. You’re a hell of a lot stronger than I am.”
“Thanks, Josh. Your wife has been a huge help, save for the whole stealing my thunder with the pregnancy thing.”
They laughed, and I cried, which was par for the course these days.
You’re feeling okay?” asked Josh as we walked through Prospect Park. “You sure?”
“Josh, for the thousandth time, I’m fine. I swear, my pregnancy is bringing out your inner Woody Allen. Don’t be so neurotic. I promise, if I feel less than great, I will let you know.”
“Sorry, I know I’m a little much. I just want to be here for you. It seems so unfair that you have to do all of the heavy lifting while my life continues on as usual.”
“That’s pretty enlightened of you to say.” All around us, the leaves were beginning to explode into vibrant hues of yellow, orange, and red. A new mother walked past with her infant strapped to her chest, his tiny legs curled like parentheses.
“Yeah, well, you know me.”
“So what did you think of Franklin?” He had flown in the night before and spent the night with Ben and Kate, almost as eager to meet his nephew as he was to see me.
“He’s pretty adorable.”
“Isn’t he? Did he smile for you?”
“He did indeed. It was pretty wild to see Ben as a dad. I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to get up here.”
“Well, with teaching it wasn’t like you could just take off any time you liked. Plus, we had the move and everything. Honestly, I think they were grateful for some time to adjust to parenthood before being deluged with well-meaning guests.”
“Probably.” We rounded a corner, nearly colliding with a sprinting man clad head-to-toe in red spandex.
“That’s a lot of look,” I commented as we recovered.
“Is that what you think you’re going to want to do?”
“When?”
“When the baby comes, are you just going to want it to be me and you? Like in the delivery room and everything?”
“Oh hell to the yes. Me, you, and the doctor. That’s it.” Josh was silent in response. “What? You want a party?”
“Not a party, but I just thought our parents might be there.” He stole a glance at me. “But it’s whatever you want, obviously.”
“Thanks.” I exhaled, realizing that I had been holding my breath while he voiced his opinion. “There’s so much we have to figure out!”
“I know, right? It makes our previous worries seem so trivial, you know?”
“I do.” I grabbed his hand. “For now let’s just enjoy this walk though, okay? I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Me too.” We ambled on, and I tried my best to take my own advice and just enjoy the moment. It was the kind of idyllic fall day captured on postcards from Vermont.
“I’m happy to be leaving,” I said.
“You are?”
“Yeah. The romance is officially over. I’m ready for Farmwood.”
“You sure this time?”
“I really am. My business idea and this baby—both have revitalized me in a really nice way. I mean, I’ll always have love for New York, but this visit has confirmed what I knew in August when we left. It’s time to move on.”
“Good.” He squeezed my hand.
Franklin is really going to miss you,” declared Kate.
“You think?”
Kate nodded. “Yeah, he really likes you.”
“Kate, come on. How on earth can you tell if Franklin likes me? He’s not exactly vocal.”
“A mother knows.” She picked him up and cradled him in her arms. “Sometimes I get pissed when he likes people other than me. Isn’t that terrible?”
“It’s not that terrible.” I reached over and touched his knuckle-less hand. “It’s understandable, actually. You work your ass off twenty-four/seven to keep the kid alive; the least you could expect is a little favoritism.”
“Thanks for indulging me, Sarah.” She handed him back to me. “Here, hold him while I get some water. You want anything?”
“No thanks.” I stared at Franklin. Already, in just two weeks, he had changed. His limbs had gone from noodles to gnocchi, and there was a focus to his gaze that suggested the personality he would soon embody.
“Sarah, did you speak to Mona? Are she and Nate on schedule?” Josh asked me from the kitchen, where he and Ben stood together drinking scotch.
“Yep, just about. Running about ten minutes behind, but they should be here soon.”
They were coming over for my good-bye dinner, which would feature delivery from my three favorite restaurants. I had hesitated to bring everyone together at Kate and Ben’s apartment, fearing discomfort for Mona because of Franklin, but she had insisted that it was fine. Franklin gurgled.
“Hey, little guy, try not to be so cute when Mona is here,” I whispered. The doorbell rang and he flailed for a moment in distress. “It’s okay, buddy,” I cooed, picking him up and pressing his stomach against my chest. His head fit perfectly in the space between my clavicle and ear, and it was all I could do not to shudder in delight at the warmth his compact body provided.
Mona and Nate entered in a flurry of cold air and hugs, with nervous compliments flying between Kate and Mona like confetti.
“You look amazing!”
“No, you look amazing!” Hugs were exchanged and Ben took their coats to the bedroom. As I held Franklin and waved to Mona, I felt terribly self-conscious and naïve. How could we have thought that exposing her to a baby so soon after her surgery wouldn’t hurt?
“Sarah, I never thought I’d see the day. You look downright maternal over there,” she said as she slowly made her way over to me.
“Sit,” I commanded. She obeyed and looked at Franklin hesitantly.
Kate came over and sat on my other side. “Mona, you can hold him if you like,” she offered.
“No, that’s okay.” We sat in silence as Mona observed him. “Well, okay,” she said, reconsidering. I handed him over and she held him stiffly, as though he was made of papier-mâché.
“Bring him into your chest,” said Kate encouragingly, getting up and returning to the kitchen. Mona slowly brought him closer until he was snuggled into her like a cashew.
“This feels nice,” whispered Mona.
“Mo, is this—is this okay? Are you sure? We can change the plan and go out; Kate and Ben will understand.”
“Shhhh. He’s almost asleep, I think.” She shifted slightly to answer me. “It was pretty silly of me to think that I could hang out with Franklin and not feel sad, I suppose.” She sighed before continuing. “But what can we do? I’m here, and that’s it. I mean, what do I expect? To just not see babies until I feel emotionally ready?”
“I know, but still. I brought you right into the belly of the beast.”
“No, you didn’t. I came willingly.” She readjusted him gently. “You know, before I had the operation, I would close my eyes at night and see cancer. Those little flashes of light when you close your eyes tightly? To me, that was the cancer inside my body. Now those flashes of light are just flashes of light.”
“That’s great,” I said. “Less scary.”
“Yeah, it is.”
; “Mona, I’m in awe of you, really and truly. You’ve been such a trouper through all of this. I don’t know how you’ve done it.”
“Thanks, I guess. You’ve been a huge help. And Nate, too.”
“I’m so glad that you let him in.”
“What can I say, you were right.” She rolled her eyes. “As usual. He’s such a good person, Sarah. Like, authentically good. And kind. And patient.” She stroked Franklin’s head tentatively. “He told me that he spoke to you about going back to school.”
“He did. Pretty impressive, huh?”
“It really is. I was worried about that, for sure. Can you imagine him as a sixty-five-year-old comedian paralegal?”
“I’d rather not. And apparently, neither would he, which is terrific.”
“Thank God.”
“What does he think about kids, Mo?”
“He said he wasn’t sure he wanted them anyway.”
“No kidding.”
“Yeah. We even talked about adopting for, like, a minute before I changed the subject. I’m not ready for that discussion yet. But you know, just that he even entertained the idea is fairly huge.”
“I’d say more than fairly.” I kissed her cheek. “Mona, you’re the bravest person I’ve ever known. You always have been.”
“I am?” She looked me in the eye, and I could see hers brimming with tears.
“No contest. You inspire me, you really do.” I geared up to hug her and then pulled back. “I don’t want to squash Franklin.”
“Probably not a good idea.” She smiled at me. “You inspire me too, you know.”
“Get out of here.”
“No, you do. You always pull yourself up by the bootstraps.”
“I do?”
“Sure. Remember when Clark broke up with you and you gained thirty pounds and wallowed in self-pity for a year?”
“You call that pulling myself up by the bootstraps?”
“You knew yourself well enough to take the time you needed to get over it, and then one day you just up and registered for the marathon and joined Date.com. When you were ready, you were ready.”
“What a year that was. Each guy was worse than the next, and my nipples were in a constant state of chafe.” I shook my head, remembering.
“So, you’ve done the same thing now. You wallowed for a bit, but when you were ready—bam! Driving lessons; a new career; a baby. I really admire you.”
“Come on, I certainly dragged my feet enough on all fronts.”
“Not true.”
“Thanks.”
“And I think you’re gonna be a great mom.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“What’s happening over here?” asked Kate, approaching us with three flutes of bubbly beverages.
“Just getting mushy,” I answered.
“I don’t want her to leave,” said Mona.
“Join the club,” said Kate. “For you, Sarah, some delicious sparkling apple cider, and for Mona, champagne.”
“Will you guys come visit?” I asked, braced for the “Of course we will” but knowing that they most likely would not. When you lived in New York, the America outside of it didn’t really exist, unless of course you were talking about Los Angeles.
“Well I guess we have to now,” answered Mona. “What with the baby on board and all.”
“Really?” I asked, excited. “Good.” I raised my glass. “To your visit.” Mona and Kate followed suit, and we clinked over Franklin’s head.
21
When you approach a roundabout, slow down and watch for signs and/or pavement markings that prohibit certain movements.
Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds as a ladybug crawled across the sheets toward me. I picked it up gently—after all, this was the new, maternal me, lover of all of God’s creatures—but despite my best intentions, I found myself crushing it to a pulp within seconds. Oh well. Rome wasn’t built in a day.
Josh rolled over and laid his arm across my stomach, burying his head between my collarbone and jaw. It felt good to be back in my bed, although leaving New York had proved to be unexpectedly emotional for me. In the cab, I had held Josh’s hand and cried quietly, overwhelmed by the realization that when we returned to visit, it would be with our child in tow.
“Morning,” he mumbled.
“Morning,” I replied, snuggling into him. “I missed this.”
“Me too.” He reversed onto his back and yawned loudly. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in weeks. The bed is too cold without you in it.”
“Come on, I know at least the first couple of days I was gone had to be nice. You could stretch out as much as you liked, hog the blankets, not make the bed . . .”
He smiled, his eyes closed. “Maybe the first two days or so.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“But it got old quickly.”
“Yeah, so did sleeping on Mona’s couch.”
“I bet. Hey, you hungry?”
“Yep.”
“Let’s go out to breakfast.”
“Ooh la la.” I threaded my fingers through his. “That sounds nice. Can we go somewhere that serves biscuits? Real biscuits, not the frozen-and-reheated kind?”
“Yeah, there’s this place that Curtis told me about down by campus. Biscuits and bacon as far as the eye can see, supposedly.”
“That’s a great name for a restaurant that only serves breakfast. Biscuits and Bacon. Who’s Curtis, by the way?”
“One of my TAs, remember? I told you about him before. He came to taco night.”
“A fellow math nerd?”
“Yeah. I’d love for you to meet him.”
“How old is he?”
“I dunno, twenty-three, twenty-four?”
“Oh my God, twenty-three. Can you even remember what being that young felt like?”
“Yeah, itchy. Those were not my finest years.”
I laughed as I slowly unwound myself from the sheet. “Guess I’ll go take a shower.”
“Can I come with you?”
“Josh, you know I love you, but the showering-together thing is not for me. Especially with the baby. I could slip or something.”
“Fine.” He rolled onto his stomach and pulled the comforter over his head.
As I massaged conditioner into my scalp, the door opened. On the other side of the mottled glass, Josh’s blurry frame appeared. I closed my eyes and continued to relish the warmth of the water, hoping that he was not going to pull a fast one and attempt to join me.
“Oh, hey, I forgot to tell you something,” he said as he squirted toothpaste onto his toothbrush.
“What’s that?”
“Iris and Mac filed for separation.”
I slid the door open, my mouth agape. “What?”
“Yeah, crazy, right?” He began to brush his teeth.
“Shit, don’t stop there! What’s the scoop?”
He pointed to his mouth with his free hand.
“Fine, I’ll wait.” I rinsed my hair quickly, wondering about the cause of their split. Had Mac wanted to go to Madrid and Iris to Johannesburg? Or had Iris been keen to run a marathon and Mac set on the Ironman? I was being an asshole, but based on what I knew of both of them, I honestly couldn’t think of any other viable options. Unless I had been right about the cracks in Iris’s no-baby-for-us façade. I turned off the shower and got out, pulling my towel from its hook.
“Hey, wait, let me look at you,” pleaded Josh. I put the towel back hesitantly, feeling embarrassed. “You’re uncomfortable being naked in front of me now?” He looked at me mournfully.
“No. Yes. I don’t know. I’ve gained some weight.”
“I would hope so! You’ve got a baby in there.” He moved closer. “You look beautiful, honey. Honestly. I can’t wait until you’re showing.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” He hugged me, and I relaxed into his embrace, his minty breath cold on my shoulder.
“So what’s t
he story with Iris and Mac?” He handed me my towel, and I wrapped myself in it.
“Nobody knows for sure. I haven’t spoken to either of them; it’s just hearsay at this point.”
“Wow. I feel badly for them.”
“Me too, but at least there are no kids involved.”
“Yeah. Makes it a little easier, I suppose. You know, Iris told me on our coffee date that they didn’t want any.” We both moved into the bedroom.
“Really?”
“That’s what she said.”
“I don’t understand how that could be. With both of them being so good-looking, it’s sort of their genetic obligation to procreate.”
“Maybe she wasn’t telling the whole truth. Maybe one of them wanted kids and the other didn’t. That would be grounds for separation, I would think.”
“True. Kids change a marriage, that’s for sure,” Josh remarked as he watched me put lotion on my legs.
“Are you ready for that?” I asked. “The change?”
“I think so. Are you?”
“Ready or not, here we come.” I pulled on my underwear. “But that doesn’t mean that it’s going to be easy. We can’t be scared of each other’s changing perspectives throughout all of this.”
“No, we can’t. We have to vow to communicate. No walking on eggshells and hoping that things iron themselves out,” Josh said. “Like before.”
“Right, although I think with some things we can just sort of wait and see. There are going to be epic mood swings on my end over the next eight months. It’s probably best if we don’t dissect each one.”
“Yes, but no more being scared of honesty. Especially with a baby coming. She’s not a Band-Aid for our problems.”
“Of course not. Did you just say ‘she’?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Did I? Huh. I’d love a little girl. Girl babies are so cute.”
“Really? I think I’d be more into a boy at this point. Teenage girls are murder. Karmically, I’m screwed. I was the absolute worst to my mother,” I said, shuddering. “I think I told her that I hated her at least three times a week.”
“Geez. That’s terrible, Sarah.”
“I know. Hormones, what can I say? Speaking of my mom, I was being too hard on her, I think, blaming her for my own parenting fears. Now I’m more comfortable taking ownership of them myself. How could anyone possibly feel like they’ve done everything they wanted to do with their own life by the time they’re ready to have kids?”
