by Bryce, Megan
She looked down at the smiling Pauls and just couldn’t decide if this was sweet or funny. She said, “You know this isn’t romantic, right?”
“Is the ring romantic?”
“Yes, the ring is romantic.”
He kissed her and murmured, “One out of two isn’t bad.”
She smiled and kissed him back. One out of two wasn’t bad at all.
Justine waited until Paul left the next morning to call her mother. Justine had sent him out to get breakfast, telling him he couldn’t meet her mother the first time like this.
“But I want to hear what she says.”
“You don’t. Because she’s not going to say anything. Trust me. You can meet her when she’s had time to calm down.”
He’d left, and she’d called her mother, and the whole conversation had consisted of shrieks of joy.
“My daughter! She’s getting married! Married! To a lawyer!”
Justine could only hope she was at home and screaming the news to Dad and not at the grocery store.
“Bring him to dinner! Oh, my God! I think I have to sit down.”
“Mom, I’m not bringing him to dinner until you can meet him without screaming.”
“You bring him to dinner, Justine. And I will kiss the man on both cheeks. He’s marrying my daughter! What does he like?”
There was no time to even think of an answer to that.
Her mom said, “This will be the wedding of the century. The century! A horse drawn carriage, the wedding at the church. Oh! We have to reserve the church!”
And she hung up.
Justine crawled back into bed and let her mother have her fun. Her mother would reserve the first date the church was available, which probably wasn’t for two years, and then they would look for somewhere they could do it sooner. Something this spring.
She cupped her belly. She’d be showing by then. And maybe they would end up just having a small civil ceremony.
If Justine knew her mother, wanting her daughter married would trump just exactly how her daughter was married.
Justine thought about calling Delia to tell her the good news. But she didn’t. Delia wouldn’t be so happy she couldn’t think. Delia would ask her why.
Why was she marrying Paul?
Because she loved him more than anything? Because she would be better with him than without him?
Or because he’d asked when no one had asked before?
Because she’d made her decision without him and was now happy to have him along for the ride?
Justine still didn’t know why.
She looked down at two months’ salary wrapped around her finger.
And she cried.
Paul went back to work the next day. No rest for the weary. But there was a spring in his step and a smile on his face. He was getting married.
He’d told Justine that they should just go for it, and that was what he wanted. Just to go for it and to be done with the decision. To stop hemming and hawing about it.
Justine was on a deadline. They’d moved in together and it had felt good and right.
She’d been the one to hesitate about moving in together permanently and he thought he knew why. Moving in together without a certainty about their future was a big step. She needed the commitment. She needed to know moving together was the next step on the path to the final step.
So he’d given it to her. And it felt good and right. It felt comfortable.
“Paulie.”
Paul looked up to find his sister standing in the doorway of his office. “Karen? Is everything alright? Where’s Little Princess?”
“She’s with a sitter.”
“Are you okay?”
Karen shut his office door. “I’m okay. You’re not.”
He stood to walk around the desk. “What’s the matter, Karen?”
“You and Justine. Getting married. There’s just. . . It’s not. . .”
Paul pushed her into a chair and leaned against his desk. “Don’t you like Justine?”
“It’s not Justine. It’s you and Justine. You should feel like you can’t live without her. And I don’t see that, not from you, not from her.”
No, he didn’t feel like that. “Should I? Should she?”
“Marriage is hard. Marriage is the hardest thing you will ever do.” She closed her eyes. “Scratch that. Marriage is the second hardest thing you will do. Babies are first. My baby makes me long for grad school and I thought I was going to die in grad school. Half my hair fell out in grad school.”
“You’re not making parenthood sound all that appealing.”
“Oh, it’s great. She’s the light of my life, my reason for living. She’s just killing me slowly. And some days, the only reason I can keep on going is because Steve is there. Because I just could not live without him. Even when I want to strangle him with my bare hands, I can’t. Because it would hurt me just as much as it would hurt him.”
She rubbed her forehead. “I am just not making sense. See, it’s the baby brain. It’s the sleep deprivation. They say babies start sleeping through the night by the time they’re six months old. They lie, Paulie. They lie.”
“How long do you have the sitter for? You can go to my apartment and take a nap.”
“I don’t know how single moms do it. Single moms must be the strongest people on the planet. And I can’t go take a nap. I only have an hour.”
“Okay, call the sitter and tell her that I’m coming to relieve her, and I’ll stay until Steve gets home. Go sleep, Karen. You can take one afternoon to yourself.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do it, Paul. She’s my baby.”
“It won’t make you a bad mother to take time for yourself. I’ll come back tonight and finish my work. I’m learning how to chisel.” He peeled off his house key, handing it to her. “And if you sleep the whole night through, good for you. I’ll go to Justine’s tonight. Steve can handle the diapers for one night.”
She stared at the key. “Really? You don’t think this smacks of abandonment? Mom would have done this.”
Their mother had never thought she had to do it all herself. Their mother had never worried about abandonment issues.
He said, “You’re overcompensating. You can be the main caregiver without being the only caregiver.”
“Overcompensating.” She sighed, closing her eyes. “I’ve missed big words. I’ve missed conversation and debate. You can’t debate with a nine-month-old, I’ve stopped trying.”
He laughed. “Good. Now stop trying to function on no sleep.”
“It’s making me stupid, isn’t it?”
Paul had had a sister long enough to know not to agree with her. “It’s making you tired.”
She looked down at the key, weighing her need for sleep against her need to be the perfect mother.
Paul said, “You’ll be a new woman after eight hours.”
“Eight hours? I’d settle for an uninterrupted four.”
“Good. Go take them.”
She sighed, standing reluctantly and saying, “It’s hard, Paulie. Harder than you think it will be. Please, just think about it. Think about what it would mean to long for law school again and how bad life would have to be. And then think if you and Justine would make it through. A lot of people don’t.”
Paul was more worried about her. Her and Steve and Little Princess. “Are you and Steve going to make it?”
She blinked rapidly, then snorted. “Yes. He’s mine. He can’t get away from me, I won’t let him.”
“Does he want to?”
“Some days. Some days I want to get away from myself.”
Karen went to Paul’s place to sleep and he relieved the babysitter, settling in for the afternoon.
He just sat on the couch and held Little Princess. Made faces at her and bounced her on his knee. Turned on the TV and just relaxed.
He fed her a bottle according to the schedule Karen had given him before leaving his office. And was thankful he didn’t
have to change any gag-worthy diapers before Steve came home.
And if Paul couldn’t see what was so hard about this, he was bright enough to not ever say that to his sister.
When Steve blew in, he hollered, “Paulie!”
“Karen’s at my place. Hopefully, sleeping.”
“Good.”
Steve grabbed the kicking little girl out of Paul’s arms and Paul knew Karen was wrong. Little Princess did care who was holding her. She’d started kicking as soon as Steve had walked through the door.
Paul wanted that. And maybe he was being hasty. Maybe he was being unfair to himself and to Justine.
Maybe it was unfair to think that good enough was good enough. That comfortable was the same thing as love. That you could make a happy family with good enough. That you could survive the hard parts with good enough.
Steve propped Little Princess in the crook of one arm, heading for the kitchen.
“You staying for dinner, Paulie?”
“What are you having?”
“I’m calling for pizza, man.”
“I can stay for pizza. I told Karen to sleep the night at my place if she can. You’re on diaper duty.”
Steve laughed. “You hear that, Little Princess? No dirty diapers tonight. And no way will Mommy sleep the whole night. She can’t do it. Even if the baby isn’t crying, Karen gets up to check on her a couple times a night.”
“I don’t know. She looked pretty tired.”
“She stresses herself out. I can’t talk her into just relaxing. I can’t talk her into pizza for dinner. She has to do everything right.”
That sounded exactly like Karen.
And while Steve knew his mother-in-law pretty well, knew what Karen thought of the way she’d been raised, Paul still said, “She wants to be a good mother.”
Steve jiggled Little Princess. “Does this look like the child of a bad mother?”
“Do you ever say that to Karen?”
“All the time. She doesn’t believe me. Because what do I know about being a good mom. We’d have pizza every night if it was up to me.”
“And that’s bad?”
“There’s rules, Paulie. Rules we know nothing about. Justine will teach ‘em to you.”
Paul thought about Justine and decided she probably did know all the rules. Had probably made a few of them up herself.
Steve said, “We’d be cavemen without our women and their rules, Paulie.”
“Well, you don’t need to worry about that. Karen says you’re never getting away from her.”
Steve grinned. “She looks mild-mannered and bookish but there’s a wild woman underneath.”
“Do you feel the same? That you’d never let her get away?”
He nodded. “I would die without her, man.”
Yeah, Paul didn’t feel that way about Justine. Maybe Karen was right, maybe they were setting themselves up for failure. How could they even think about children when that was a possibility?
Karen walked through the door before they’d finished eating their pizza and Steve said, “See?”
Paul grinned. “Did you sleep at all?”
Karen nodded. “Four hours, I feel great. Thank you, Paul. Same time next week?”
He laughed, trying to decide if he was really going back to work tonight. He was full, he was tired. He had things to think about.
He took the key she was holding out to him. “You’re welcome anytime; I’ll make you a key. Or I’ll come here and watch her while you nap.”
“I can’t sleep here. I can hear her breathing.”
Steve kissed Karen, handing her the baby. “Mom ears. Glad I don’t have them.”
Karen pinched him lightly, then smiled at Little Princess. “Yeah, be glad.”
Paul left them, tickling Little Princess on the foot on his way out and listening to Steve defend his choice of dinner by saying there were vegetables on it.
Paul didn’t go to Justine’s, he didn’t go back to work. He sat in his BMW, looking at the bright welcoming lights of his sister’s house and wondered.
He didn’t have what his sister had. He and Justine had something. He thought one day they might have something more.
But he’d rushed it. They weren’t ready for this yet. Because once he had this, he didn’t want to lose it.
But maybe they just needed to slow down. To be sure before. Even if they were working against a deadline.
He closed his eyes, thinking he was probably going to break one of those rules he knew nothing about, then drove slowly to Justine’s. Hoping she would know exactly what he was trying to say when he told her he didn’t want to marry her yet.
He knocked, then let himself in with his key. He’d wondered if she was even home yet but she was already in her snowmen-sipping-Mai Tais’ pajamas, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, looking tired.
She smiled at him. “Hi. Are you staying here tonight?”
“I don’t know. I just came from Karen’s and wanted to talk to you.”
She nodded. “Hungry?”
He shook his head. “I had pizza.”
She sat on the couch, folding her legs beneath her. He sat next to her, fiddling his fingers, and she said, “What’s wrong, Paul?”
“You remember how we’re not romantic?”
She laughed. “Yes. I remember.”
“I’m just wondering if maybe we need to wait until we are.”
She wiggled her foot with nervous energy. “Wait? To get married?”
When he nodded, she said, “Do you think we’re ever going to be romantic? It might be a permanent condition with the two of us.”
He sat back, leaning his head against the couch and looking up at the ceiling. “That might be true. But I just keep wondering if we’re rushing this. We are rushing this. And maybe we should slow it down.”
He glanced at her, finding her eyes wide and her face pale. He took her hand and said quickly, “Can we put the wedding plans on hold? Stay engaged until we know for sure?”
Her hand flinched in his.
He said, “I’ve spent all afternoon caring for Little Princess because my sister is about ready to break. And when that’s you and me and life is trying to break us, do you think we’d make it through? Because I’m not sure.”
Justine took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I’m not sure of anything right now.”
He nodded. “We need time. And I know you don’t have time. I know you’re racing against the clock. But I’m asking for as much as you can give me because I don’t think we’re ready for marriage. Yet.”
Justine whispered, “Paul.”
“I’m sorry, Justine. So sorry. Maybe in a few months we’ll be ready.”
She said, “I’m pregnant.”
Justine opened her mouth to tell him that it had just happened, that it was an accident, that she must have forgotten one or two days and it had just happened.
And then she closed her mouth. She couldn’t lie to him. And not only that, but she knew he wouldn’t believe her. Justine never forgot anything.
Paul’s mouth fell open and he glanced down at her belly.
She waited for the horror, for the accusation, but he just sat there. His mouth wide open, surprise covering his face.
He didn’t say anything. Nothing at all, and she fidgeted in her seat.
He cleared his throat. “Are you sure?”
“You think I would make this kind of mistake?”
“I’m kind of hoping.”
“You hope I’m lying. That I’m trying to trap you. That I wouldn’t really have gotten pregnant on purpose.”
The shock left his eyes and was quickly replaced with anger. “You did this on purpose?”
He looked down and said, “Of course you did this on purpose.”
“Paul–”
He looked up and she stopped. What could she say? They both knew what kind of person she was now. There was no hiding it.
“How far along are you?”
She cl
osed her eyes and whispered, “Six weeks.”
“Six weeks! How long have you known?”
She told the truth. “Two weeks.”
He stood abruptly and she kept her eyes closed. She didn’t want to see that look on his face. That look of shock and horror and disapproval. She seen it enough times on her own face.
“Is that why you said yes? Would you be wearing my ring if you weren’t pregnant?”
Justine still didn’t know.
Yes, she did know. She would have said yes to anybody. She was thirty-six. She was desperate. She knew a woman didn’t have to be thirty-six and desperate but she was.
She wanted. And she would do anything to get what she wanted. She’d thought she would be happy to pay any price to get what she wanted.
She opened her eyes and looked at Paul. Angry and trapped and horrified, and she said, “Yes. I want to be married and have a family. I said yes even though I’m not quite ready to have that with you.”
He jerked back and she kept her eyes open. Forced herself to see what she’d done. Forced herself to pay the price.
He didn’t say anything more, just left.
And she didn’t cry. She didn’t jump up and follow him.
She stayed on the couch and cupped her belly. Relieved that it was over. Relieved that she’d finally told him, before it was too late. Before they’d made her lie into an even bigger lie.
Relieved and sad, because now she realized that there had been something between them. He’d called off the wedding because they weren’t ready, not because they wouldn’t ever be ready.
She given up the chance at all of her dreams for a part of it.
Fourteen
Paul stared at Justine’s apartment building. Wide-eyed, shell-shocked.
And then he went back to his sister’s.
She opened the door, her arms free for once, and he wanted to drop his head on her shoulder, let her take care of him. They’d always taken care of each other, had only had each other to depend on, their parents too busy.
She pulled him inside. “I’m so sorry, Paulie.”
He was, too. Sad and confused and sorry.
Steve sat at the dining room table, Little Princess in his arms, and Paul said, “Justine’s pregnant.”
