Mommy Tracked

by Whitney Gaskell

“Mom.” Molly was standing at the bathroom door. She looked at her mother curiously. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m just weighing myself.”

  “Oh, let me,” Molly said.

  Grace stepped off the scale, and Molly stepped on.

  “Fifty-two pounds,” Grace announced.

  Molly frowned. “That seems like an awful lot.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re the perfect weight.”

  But Molly smoothed her hands down over her bottom—a gesture, Grace recognized with a twinge of discomfort, that she herself often made, when checking to see if her ass fat was disappearing—and announced, “I’m fat.”

  Grace stared at her oldest daughter. “You are not fat.”

  “I have a big butt,” Molly insisted. “And my stomach sticks out.”

  “It does not!” Grace protested. Molly was only five. Surely, she was too young to be worrying about this.

  “Mm-hmm. Hannah is too. She’s even fatter than me. I was just telling her that. That’s why you and Dad always call her Chugs.”

  Grace gaped at her daughter.

  “Hannah is not fat! And Daddy and I call her Chugs as a nickname, as an endearment. The same way we call you Monkey. We don’t think you really look like a monkey; it’s just because you were always getting into everything when you were a baby and first starting to crawl,” Grace explained. She sat down on the edge of the tub and took her daughter by the shoulders. “Molly. Sweetheart. You are not fat. You’re perfect just as you are. So is Hannah.”

  “But Hannah’s stomach sticks out even more than mine.”

  “That’s because she’s a little girl. All little girls have tummies that stick out.”

  “Not Emma and Izzy. They’re skinny.”

  Just like their mother, Grace thought. Juliet was an ectomorph, and her twin daughters clearly took after her.

  Molly seemed to be reading her thoughts. “When I grow up, will I have a big butt like you? I hope not. But I wouldn’t mind having big boobs, although maybe not as big as yours.”

  “You think my butt looks big?” Grace asked anxiously. She stood up and faced away from the bathroom mirror, craning her neck around to get a look at her bottom. “You think I look fat?”

  “A little,” Molly said with the cruel honesty of a five-year-old. “But don’t worry. Mommies should be fat. It makes them better at cuddling. I bet Emma and Izzy’s mom isn’t any good at cuddling.”

  And then Molly skipped out of the bathroom, while Grace continued to peer at her reflection, shifting from side to side to see just how enormous her ass really was.

  “Have you slept with him yet?” Juliet asked Anna.

  Anna shook her head. “No.”

  “Why not?” Grace asked.

  “For one thing, I don’t remember how to have sex,” Anna said.

  “Me neither,” Chloe said gloomily.

  Juliet, Anna, Chloe, and Grace were at the fountain park on Ocean View Drive, sitting at a picnic table shaded by a hardwood arbor. They sipped the iced coffee Anna had picked up for everyone at Dunkin’ Donuts and watched their children streak around through the large jets of water shooting out of the ground. Molly—who, as eldest, considered herself in charge of the others—was trying to boss around Charlie and Hannah, who mostly just ignored her. The twins were setting beach balls on the water jets when they got low and then screeching with laughter when the water suddenly shot back up, rocketing the balls into the air. The two babies, William and Natalie, napped in their infant car seats on the shaded ground by the table.

  “You’re not supposed to have sex,” Grace told Chloe. “In fact, it’s our obligation as your sisters-in-arms to tell you the truth about postpartum sex: Don’t do it.”

  Chloe laughed.

  “I’m serious,” Grace continued. She began ticking off the reasons on her fingers. “One, you’re exhausted; two, you’re sore; and three, you’re leaking milk. You shouldn’t even think about it until William is three months old. And even then I don’t advise it. Better to put it off indefinitely.”

  “My doctor said six weeks,” Chloe said.

  “Well, he lied. Trust me. No one but another mother is going to tell you the truth about these things. Forget sex, and, oh, you’re probably going to hate your husband for a while,” Grace continued.

  “What?” Chloe looked startled. “I don’t hate James.”

  “Sure, you do,” Grace said cheerfully.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “All new mothers hate their partners in the short term. How can you not? You’re lucky to get in a shower, and they’re off every morning, wearing real clothes and going out to nice lunches. The bastards,” Grace added.

  “I didn’t hate Patrick,” Juliet said.

  “Yes, well, you were the one with the nice clothes and lunches out. He was the one stuck home with a screaming baby—make that two screaming babies. He probably hated you.”

  “I hated Brad.” Anna shrugged. “Hell, who could blame me? And as for sex, I had five stitches with Charlie.” At this, they all shuddered. “Even if Brad and I hadn’t split up, I wouldn’t have wanted him anywhere near that.”

  They all looked at Juliet.

  “Jesus Christ. You know I hate talking about personal crap. And I’m certainly not going to tell you about my sex life,” she said, exasperated.

  “Come on, don’t be like that,” Grace said, nudging Juliet under the table with one sandaled foot. “You don’t have to share your feelings, heaven forbid. Just tell us if your sex drive went down.”

  Juliet rolled her eyes. “Well, no,” she conceded. “It really didn’t. But I didn’t breast-feed. And I did have a C-section, after all, so there weren’t any stitches to worry about. At least, not at any access points.”

  The other women laughed at this.

  “Three months? Really?” Chloe said, her brow puckering. “I don’t know if James can make it that long. I was on pelvic rest for the last three months of my pregnancy. It’s been a long time.”

  “Tell him to suck it up and be a man,” Grace advised her. “Besides, that’s what the shower’s there for.”

  “Nice,” Juliet commented.

  “But you have no excuse,” Grace said, turning on Anna. “So why haven’t you slept with Noah yet?”

  “We haven’t really had the opportunity. We’ve gone out to dinner a few times, but I’ve always had to go home to Charlie afterward.” Anna shrugged again. “Noah came over to our house to watch movies one night, but I felt weird doing anything there, with Charlie in the next room. I swear, it’s like being in high school again, what with the out-of-control hormones and zero privacy,” Anna continued.

  “You could leave Charlie with your mom overnight and stay at a hotel,” Grace suggested.

  “Actually, tonight—” Anna began, but then she blushed and stopped.

  “What?” Grace asked. “Oh! You mean…tonight is the big night?”

  Anna nodded, and flushed an even darker red. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

  “Excellent,” Grace said with relish. “Take notes. I’m living vicariously through you, and I want all of the details.”

  Anna looked at Grace, her eyebrows arched.

  “My no-personal-details rule is looking better and better, isn’t it?” Juliet said.

  “Yes, it is,” Anna said.

  “Give us something. Are you going to a hotel?” Grace asked.

  “No. I’m staying over at Noah’s house,” Anna said. “And to be honest, I’m nervous. I wasn’t even sure I’d remember how to use my diaphragm, so I practiced putting it in and taking it out last night.”

  “Why don’t you just use a condom? You can practice the Kiss and Roll technique we learned at the MCT meeting,” Juliet suggested.

  “That might be a little much for the first time, don’t you think?” Anna said. “I always thought it was better to save the inventive stuff for when things were getting routine.”

  “That’s true. You don’t w
ant to set the bar too high,” Juliet said.

  Suddenly there was a loud shriek, different from the background noise of shouts and squeals as the children darted in and out of the fountains. It was a cry of unhappiness, of pain, the sort of cry that caused every parent in the park to immediately look up sharply, eyes searching to account for their own child.

  “Mom! Mom! Hannah fell!” It was Molly, running toward her mother. Grace looked for Hannah—who had fallen on the water-slicked ground and was now sobbing and clutching at her elbow—and quickly stood up. Too quickly. Suddenly, a horrifying dizziness washed over Grace, and her vision blurred and dissolved into tiny specks of light. She grabbed the edge of the picnic table to steady herself, and even then, she wasn’t sure that she’d keep her balance. Her legs felt wobbly, and she wondered distantly if she was about to fall.

  “Grace?” Anna’s voice—sharp, nervous—echoed near her.

  “Are you okay?” This time it was Chloe, sounding anxious.

  Grace blinked, and her vision came back, although it was blurred at the edges.

  “I’ll get Hannah,” Juliet said, swinging her long legs over the built-in bench and striding off toward the fountains, where the little girl was still sitting and crying.

  “Sit down, right here.” It was Anna again, now standing next to Grace—How had she moved so quickly? Grace wondered—taking her hand and guiding her down onto the bench. “Lean over and put your head between your knees.”

  “What does that do?” Chloe asked.

  “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do with someone who’s about to pass out? Actually, now I’m not so sure. Grace, honey, maybe you should sit back up,” Anna said.

  “Do you feel sick?” Chloe asked.

  “No. Well, a little, I guess. Just give me a minute. Hannah?” Grace’s voice sounded weak and far away to her own ears. And for a minute she thought she might be sick; her mouth tasted unpleasantly metallic.

  “She’s fine. Juliet has her, and she’s smiling now. In fact, there she goes; she’s running off to play with the other girls. The crisis has passed,” Anna said.

  Grace opened her eyes. Even with her sunglasses on, the sun seemed unbearably bright. She squinted until her eyes focused and she could ascertain that her two older daughters were indeed fine. Hannah and Molly had gone back to running around the jets of water, laughing and shrieking as they played. She looked for Nat, who was still dozing contentedly in her car seat.

  Juliet joined the others and fixed Grace with a penetrating look. “What was that all about?”

  “I’m fine. I just felt light-headed for a minute,” Grace said blearily.

  “You don’t look fine,” Juliet said.

  “You said you’ve been having a lot of headaches lately too,” Anna said, frowning.

  “Just a few,” Grace said.

  “I think you should see a doctor about this. You shouldn’t let it go,” Anna said.

  “I bet it’s that diet you’re on,” Juliet said. “You’ve hardly been eating anything lately.”

  “I know! Have you noticed how much weight I’ve lost?” Grace asked proudly. “Eleven pounds in a month! I can almost get into my skinny jeans, and I haven’t worn those since 1994, right after I had mono.”

  “That doesn’t sound healthy,” Chloe said, frowning. “I thought you were only supposed to lose one pound a week.”

  “It’s not healthy,” Juliet said.

  “Grace, why don’t I drive you and the girls home?” Anna suggested. “You can pick up your minivan later when you’re feeling better.”

  “They won’t all fit in your wagon. Some of you will have to go with me,” Juliet said.

  “It’s okay. Really, I’m fine. And I can drive,” Grace protested.

  “I know. Do it for my sake, so I don’t worry,” Anna suggested.

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Chloe chimed in. “What if you get dizzy again while you’re driving?”

  “Well…I really think you guys are making too big a deal out of this,” Grace said, hesitating. The truth was, she had been feeling dizzy a lot lately. More than she’d told anyone, even Louis. Especially Louis.

  “Forget it, Grace. There’s not a chance in hell we’re letting you drive yourself home,” Juliet said.

  “Bossy pants,” Grace said, borrowing her daughters’ favorite insult.

  “Bossy I can live with. You plowing your minivan into oncoming traffic with your three children strapped in the back, I can’t,” Juliet said with a shrug.

  The image caused Grace’s mouth to go dry with fear. “You really don’t mind dropping us off?”

  “Not at all,” Anna assured her. “Here, give me your keys. I’ll go move the girls’ car seats over. Who’s going with me, and who’s going with Juliet?”

  Later that afternoon, while Hannah and Natalie were napping, and Molly was in her room playing, and Louis was outside mowing the grass, Grace made herself a cup of Miracle Diet Tea and sat down at the kitchen table to work on the upcoming fund-raiser MCT was holding for the Starfish House.

  Plans for the charity luncheon were coming along. Saks had agreed to host the group and was even putting on a fashion show and offering free makeovers. They’d put Grace in touch with a caterer who had worked events for Saks before, and she’d picked a menu of seared beef tenderloin on a bed of greens for the main course and gourmet chocolate cupcakes for dessert. Jana Mallin and Val Metcalf were working on getting local businesses to make contributions in return for ad space in the program. If they sold fifty tickets, at one hundred dollars apiece, they’d make a profit of—Grace punched numbers into her calculator—at least $3,750 to go toward the new furniture for the common room at the Starfish House.

  Excellent, she thought with satisfaction. And we’ll make even more than that if we can drum up interest with the local businesses. I’ll have to send an e-mail to Jana to see if she’s had any luck.

  Grace took a sip of her tea and made a face. She’d been so absorbed in her paperwork, it had gone cold.

  I’ll just nuke it for a minute, Grace decided. With the mug in hand, she stood up, turning toward the microwave.

  But before she could take a single step, the awful dizziness returned. It came on so quickly and forcefully, and overtook her so suddenly, that all Grace could do was wait helplessly for it to pass. She watched, as though from a distance, as the mug dropped from her hands.

  It’s going to break, she thought fuzzily, watching the ceramic mug fall in what seemed like slow motion. It was her favorite mug. Molly had painted it at a pottery store and given it to Grace for Mother’s Day last year. It was pink and purple—Molly’s signature colors—and there was a kitten with a bubbly head and big triangular ears painted on one side.

  Black spots speckled Grace’s vision, and a low thrum filled her ears.

  I’d better get Louis, she thought. Or maybe I should just sit down for a minute, until the dizziness passes….

  And then everything went black and still and quiet. Grace didn’t even hear the mug when it finally hit the floor and shattered into pieces.

  fourteen

  Juliet

  We’re home,” Juliet called out, as she came in through the back door into the kitchen. It smelled like vinegar and lemon; apparently Patrick had been cleaning in their absence.

  “We’re home! We’re home!” the twins echoed, as they kicked off their shoes.

  “Hey! How was the fountain park?” Patrick asked, coming out from the office. The twins streaked by him, running upstairs to change out of their wet bathing suits, sending him careening into the counter. “Whoa! What’s the hurry, shorties?”

  “Mom said we could watch The Little Mermaid,” Emma yelled back over her shoulder.

  “If…?” Juliet called out.

  “If-we’re-good-and-promise-not-to-whine-when-it’s-time-to-go-to-bed,” Izzy parroted back.

  Juliet and Patrick exchanged a smile—a rare occurrence, these days—both charmed by their silly, sweet girls.


  “Just remember that when it’s lights-out time,” Juliet said.

  The twins scampered up the stairs, giggling as they went.

  “I have to go in to the office for a little while,” Juliet said, and braced herself for the inevitable fight this announcement would cause.

  But Patrick surprised her.

  “Fine. What time will you be home?” he asked. His voice was polite, almost cool, but not argumentative. Which was a definite improvement.

  “Not late. I’ll be home for dinner,” Juliet said. And then, to strike a conciliatory note, she added, “Do you want to go out? We could go to Cosmo’s.”

  The twins adored Cosmo’s, an Italian restaurant that served thick wedges of buttery garlic bread and mountains of meatball-topped spaghetti.

  Patrick hesitated, then nodded. His face was inscrutable, his feelings shuttered away from Juliet’s view.

  “All right,” he said.

  And with this détente reached, Juliet left.

  Juliet was surprised to find the office deserted. Even Neil was gone, which had to be a first. He was always there, bent studiously over his desk, working away in an office lit only by the dim light of a fluorescent lamp. It was refreshing to actually be completely and totally alone for once, free of the distractions of voices, coughs, and ringing phones.

  Juliet sat down behind her desk, switched on her computer, and got to work. Richard had written a memo on the Patterson case that Alex—to Richard’s barely concealed fury—had asked Juliet to review and change where necessary. And then she had to write a status memo on the dead-baby case. A settlement offer had come in from the defense. It was low—too low, Juliet thought—but still, it had to be considered.

  Absorbed in these projects, Juliet quickly lost track of how long she’d been there. Between the airless quality of the office and the tinted windows that effectively masked the color of the sky—it always looked dark and gray out, no matter the weather or time of day—she often felt suspended in purgatory while she worked.

  “Juliet.”

  Juliet started, dropping her pen, and looked up to see Alex standing at the door of her office. He was dressed casually, a white sweater draping over the muscular curve of his shoulders and jeans skimming his hips in a way that made Juliet very aware of his physicality. A jolt of excitement shot through her, warming as it rushed outward from her stomach.