“Thanks!”
So after a few minutes, Nat came down wearing her snug maternity jeans and an oversized sweatshirt that my dad gave her, and I put her to work at the kitchen table. And although I really probably could’ve finished things off myself, I was actually pretty grateful for her company.
“I guess Mom and the kids have already taken off…” she said as she started to peel a carrot.
“I noticed them getting into their car around noon.”
“At least I don’t have to go through the traditional extended family feud this year.”
I laughed. “There’s something to be thankful for.”
“Yeah, I guess.” She picked up another carrot and sighed.
“But you still miss your family, don’t you?”
“Kinda.”
“Well, I kinda know how you feel.”
She looked up at me then. “Oh, Kim, I totally forgot. I mean, this is the first Christmas without your mom. Are you doing okay?”
Her sympathy almost made me want to cry. Instead I just nodded, swallowing against the lump in my throat.
She shook her head. “Man, I’ve been so self-centered lately, acting like I’m the only one with problems. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I mean, I realize that you’re in a pretty hard place.”
“Isn’t it weird?” She held the peeler in the air as if to make a point. “I mean just last year, everything was so totally different. Isn’t it freaky how things can change in such a short time?”
“I wonder how things will be for us next year…”
“You’ll probably be off to some great Ivy League school. Maybe even where Matt’s going.”
“No thanks. I’m not applying there.” I arranged my cheese slices on the platter, carefully fanning out the layers until they looked just right. My mom had a real knack for this, and my goal was for Dad to come home and feel like some things haven’t changed.
“I wonder where I’ll be…”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I mean, I know Nat still has options, but I’m not really sure what they are anymore. Her life has been so derailed these last nine months. And right now I think we’re both so focused on her having this baby that we can’t really see past it. I decided to change the subject by telling her about Redemption’s Christmas concert. “They were supposed to get back home this morning. I hope it went okay.”
“Did I tell you that Josh called yesterday? While you were gone?”
“No. What did he want?” I stopped what I was doing.
“He told me that it might be possible for Ben and me to get an annulment.”
“An annulment?”
“Yeah…” She was looking down at the table now.
“Really?” I was trying to understand this. “Is that really possible?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Well, that’d be cool,” I said quickly, feeling bad for doubting this. “I mean, that’s like you guys were never even married then, right?”
“Do you want to know something, Kim?”
“What?”
“Well, it’s about Ben and me, and it’s kinda embarrassing.”
Okay, now I wasn’t so sure that I really did want to know. But at the same time, I could tell that she had something she needed to say, something she wanted to get off her chest. So I just nodded and braced myself.
“Ben and I never had sex after we got married.”
I stared at her. “Never?”
She just shook her head.
“Not even on your honeymoon?”
“Nope.”
“Why?” Now, I’m not even sure why I asked this because part of me really didn’t want to know, but I guess another part was curious. And after all, she was the one to bring it up.
“I just didn’t feel right about it that first night. I mean, being pregnant and everything—it just seemed kind of scary, and I was uncomfortable with the whole idea. Plus I was pretty exhausted after the wedding. I was so relieved when Ben agreed with me. And he said he didn’t want to hurt the baby, which I actually thought was sweet. We said we’d get a book or talk to the doctor or something. But we kind of put it off. And then he started working those late nights, and we had school and stuff, and I was tired a lot, and then he started drinking and we started fighting. And I guess sex just became less and less appealing to both of us.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Do you think that’s weird?”
I shrugged, feeling slightly uncomfortable, like I didn’t really want to think about the fact that my best friend is married and that she’s telling me this stuff. “I don’t know, Nat,” I finally said, hoping that I could be somewhat comforting. “Maybe it was just natural to feel like that. I mean you guys had been through so much. Maybe it was…oh, I don’t know…”
“I think another part of it was that I was totally embarrassed for him to see me,” she continued. “I was already getting pretty big, and I didn’t feel the least bit attractive.”
I nodded, pretending that I understood how she felt. But I really wanted to change the subject.
“The good news is that Ben told Josh everything…and because of that, well, we might be able to get a real annulment. And then we won’t have to go through a divorce.”
“That is good news, Nat.” I smiled at her. “A nice Christmas present, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess. But it’s kind of embarrassing too.”
“Embarrassing?”
“It makes me feel so stupid for going through with the wedding and the bridal shower and everything, and then we’re not even actually married. Do you think we should return the gifts?”
I kind of laughed. “Yeah, like everyone is going to want all those broken dishes and the used stuff back.”
Nat started to cry. And I set down the ham that I was slicing and went over to her. “I’m sorry, Nat.” I patted her back in an attempt to soothe her. “I was just trying to be funny. Of course, you shouldn’t return the gifts. And you shouldn’t feel embarrassed about the wedding and everything. You were doing what you thought was right. And like Caitlin said, maybe you guys had to go through that just so you would know that getting married was not the solution to all your problems.”
“But I feel like such an idiot. And I’m sure that people are thinking terrible things about me and Ben. Like we’re such a mess.”
“The people who came to the wedding and the shower all love you, Nat. And I know they all just want the best for you. And I’m guessing they’re all feeling relieved that you and Ben figured out what’s best for everyone—and they should be thankful that you guys can get an annulment.”
She looked up with wet eyes. “Really? You think so?”
“I really do.”
“I’m not so sure about my mom though.” Nat shook her head. “She’ll think that she wasted her money on a sham wedding.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“Do you know that I haven’t even told her that I’m not going to keep my baby?”
“You guys really need to talk.”
“It’s hard to talk when she refuses to listen.”
“Maybe after the holidays…”
Dad was pleased when he got home. “Kim!” he exclaimed when he saw my little feast spread out on the dining room table, just like my mom used to do. “This looks fantastic. Are we having guests?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s just the three of us.”
“Well, that’s just perfect.”
“Nat helped me do this,” I told him.
“Thanks, Natalie,” he said as he dipped a tortilla chip in the seven-layer dip, which I happen to know is his favorite.
I’d already put the Christmas music on and lit some candles, and I’d plugged in the lights on the little tree Dad and I had put up last weekend. Oh, the place wasn’t nearly as festive as it was last year when Mom went all out, but it wasn’t half bad either.
Dad wanted to watch our old “White Christmas” video,
and Nat and I didn’t argue. Afterward, Dad asked if we wanted him to do his traditional Christmas reading.
“What’s that?” Nat asked.
“He reads this story about the first Christmas,” I explained. “He’s been doing it since I can remember. And I’m definitely up for it.”
“Me too,” said Nat.
So we listened while Dad read from my old picture book, but by the time he finished, Nat was crying—rather loudly.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I was just thinking about—about Mary,” she said between sobs.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure you can relate.”
“But I was thinking about how—how horrible it must’ve been for her to ride on that donkey. I think I’d be dead if I had to do that.”
Dad laughed. “Mary must’ve been made of tough stuff.”
“And God must’ve helped her,” I said.
“I feel so bad for complaining all the time,” Nat said now. “You guys must be totally sick of me. And you’ve been so good to me, and I go around the place just moping and feeling sorry for myself.” She held her chin up. “Well, I’m not going to do that anymore. From now on, I’m going to have a positive attitude. Even if this baby doesn’t come until the middle of January.” She made a face like she sure hoped that wouldn’t be the case. “Anyway, no more pity parties for me.”
“Good for you,” Dad told her.
“I know I’ll appreciate it,” I said, gently nudging her and smiling.
It was getting late and Dad excused himself. “Sorry to be a party pooper, but it’s been a long day.”
“We’ll try to keep it down in here,” I joked.
“Merry Christmas,” he told us as he shuffled off to bed.
Then Nat and I decided to watch “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” but it wasn’t long before Nat fell asleep on the couch, and I wasn’t that into the movie, so I decided to come up to my room.
I don’t know why I’m not sleepy tonight. And even after writing in my diary, I’m still wide awake. I’d really like to play my violin, but I don’t want to disturb anyone. Maybe tomorrow. I sit at my desk for a while, just looking at my mom’s photo and missing her. I’m sure Christmas in heaven must be really special. But I wonder if she misses us. Or maybe she’s watching. Finally, I decide to answer some letters, hoping that Just Ask Jamie will help put me to sleep.
Dear Jamie,
I think my dad’s cheating on my mom. My best friend was driving us to the mall, and I noticed my dad’s car at the intersection. He didn’t see me, but I saw that he was with a lady from his work, and then he pulled into this sleazy motel and parked there. I want to tell my mom, but I know it’s going to hurt her. What should I do?
Unfortunate Observer
Dear UO,
First of all, you need to tell your dad what you saw that day. Don’t be confrontational about it, but do be direct and honest. It’s possible that there’s a perfectly logical explanation for what you saw. Maybe he was dropping the woman off for some reason. Or maybe you’re right—maybe he is having an affair. How he reacts and the way he answers your question will probably tip you off. And if you feel certain that he is having an affair, you should tell him that he needs to tell your mom. So that you don’t have to. Hopefully it’ll turn out that he’s not having an affair. But if he is, hang in there. Your mom will need your support.
Just Jamie
Twelve
Christmas Day
This has been one of the longest days of my life. And I am so thankful that it’s nearly over. I think I will sleep for a week.
It all started shortly after I finally went to bed last night. I was just starting to drift off when I heard this quiet tap-tap-tap on my door.
“Kim?” calls Nat’s voice as she cracks open my door. “Are you asleep?”
I sit up. “Not now.”
“Sorry.” She comes in and sits on the edge of my bed. “But I’m having contractions.”
“What kind of contractions?” I ask, trying to sound more patient than I’m feeling. I’m just not up for another case of false labor tonight.
“I’m not sure…”
“Well, how many have you had?”
“It started about eleven,” she says.
I glance at my clock to see that it’s 11:37. “So, about half an hour?”
“Yeah, I think.”
“How far apart are they?”
“I’m not sure. The first two were about ten minutes apart. And then the next one was a little less and—” She stops talking now and grabs her stomach. “And here comes another one.” She reaches for my hand and puts it on her belly, which feels very tight.
“Can you feel that?”
“I guess.” I turn on the light and just look at her. I can tell by her face that she’s not comfortable. But even so, I’m not convinced this is the real thing.
“Why don’t you lie down—” I move over and make room for her—“and we can time the contractions and decide whether or not you’re really in labor. Okay?” She waits about a minute or so, then takes a deep breath and lies down beside me. “Okay.”
I’m just about asleep when she’s nudging me.
“Here’s another one.”
“Huh?”
“A contraction,” she says somewhat impatiently.
“Oh yeah.” I look at the clock and see that it’s 11:48 now. “That’s more than ten minutes,” I tell her, closing my eyes again. I can hear her breathing, and I know that whatever’s going on doesn’t feel good. But according to the doctor, ten minutes apart isn’t anything to be concerned about. Besides, I’m tired. I dose my eyes and actually fall asleep. But it seems like only seconds have elapsed when Nat is poking me again.
“What?” I say in a grumpy voice.
“This is the real thing,” she says. And I can see that she’s standing next to my bed now.
I sit up and blink and look at my clock. It’s 2:36. Even in my sleepy state I can do the math. “Nat!” I don’t bother to hide my impatience now. “It’s been like three hours since your last contract—”
“No, Kim,” she says in an equally aggravated voice. “It’s been like five minutes. My contractions have been exactly five minutes apart since 1:25. That’s more than an hour. This is the real deal!”
“Are you sure?”
“I am in labor, Kim! And unless you want me to have this baby in your bed, I suggest you get up and get me to the hospital.”
So I get up and pull on some clothes and then go to my dad’s room. Within ten minutes the three of us are on our way to the hospital. My dad drives my mom’s old car while I sit with Nat in the backseat and help her do her breathing techniques as I time her contractions. They seem to be getting closer, and I am getting really nervous.
“Hurry, Dad!” I urge him, knowing full well that he’s going as fast as safely possible.
“I am, Kim. It’s only five minutes away now.” Then Nat lets out a scream, and I don’t know what to do. Fortunately, my dad must have nerves of steel because he stays on the road.
“Hang on, Nat,” I tell her. “We’re almost there.”
“This hurts, Kim!”
“I know, I know. But we’ll be there soon.”
It seems like days before Dad finally pulls up to the emergency room entrance. “I’ll get someone to help,” he yells as he jumps out of the car.
“Here comes another one!” Nat howls.
“Just breathe,” I tell her in my calmest voice. And I do the breaths with her, panting like a dog just like the birthing coach in the movie did. “Come on,” I urge her when I can tell she’s holding her breath. “You have to breathe.”
“You breathe!” she screams at me as my dad returns with a wheelchair and what appears to be a medical person. “Even better yet,” she yells as they begin to extract her from the backseat, “you have this baby!”
I kind of laugh as I grab Nat’s bag, and my dad and the medical guy ease Nat into the wheelchair. “S
he’s not feeling so good right now,” I tell the guy.
“Don’t worry,” he tells Nat as he wheels her in. “They’ll get you as comfortable as possible as soon as you sign in.” I run ahead and give the receptionist Nat’s name and social security number, and she quickly locates her file. Soon a maternity nurse arrives, and it’s not long before Nat’s wearing her ID bracelet and being whisked toward the elevators.
“Call Mrs. Stein,” Nat says suddenly. “She said to call her as soon as I go into labor. The card’s in my bag.”
So watching them get into the elevator, I quickly locate the business card, dial the number, and leave a message. Then I catch the next elevator up, and just as I reach the maternity ward, I hear Nat yelling and follow the sound of her voice to a room. The nurse is trying to help Nat into the bed, but it’s obvious she’s having another strong contraction, and she’s screaming so loudly that my dad bolts past me and makes an amazing disappearing act. I wish I could go with him. Instead I do the pant-pant breathing with Nat until the contraction finally ends, and then the nurse and I get Nat into bed.
Another nurse appears and starts hooking her up to the monitor and inserting an IV while the original nurse checks her vital signs. And by the time they’re done, Nat’s having another contraction. They seem to be coming about three and a half minutes apart now, and I’m hoping this means it won’t be long.
It feels like several days before the doctor finally arrives and checks on Nat. “She’s definitely in labor,” he tells us with a big grin. “It’ll be the first Christmas baby this year. And at this rate she’ll probably deliver in a couple of hours.”
“A couple of hours?” I say, thinking that sounds like years.
“That’s not so bad,” he tells me. “Most first-timers have a longer labor than that.”
But then Nat has another contraction, and my attention is diverted back to her and the breathing.
“I’ll get her something to take the edge off the pain,” he says as he writes something down on her chart.
That Was Then... Page 10
