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She did as she was told.
"I like this new Angie. She listens to me. "
"Only so far, pal. " She laughed. This felt so good. It was cold out, freezing on this February night, but he had the top down anyway and the air stung her face and whipped her hair in a dozen different directions. "Were at the beach," she said, smelling it, hearing the roar of the surf.
He parked, then came around to her side. She heard the trunk whir open and thump shut.
He picked her up again, carried her forward. She could tell by the heaviness of his steps, the way he started breathing just a little harder, that he was walking in sand.
"Someone needs to visit a gym more often," she teased.
"Says the heavyweight in my arms. "
He set her down. She heard the snap of a blanket and his curses as he straightened it out. Then he started a fire. The acrid smell tinged the sea air, made her think of every high school beach party shed ever attended.
She drew in a deep breath and smelled the whole of her youth. The sand, the sea, the driftwood that was never completely wet or completely dry.
"Open your eyes. "
When she did, she was looking up at him.
"Happy Valentines Day, Ange. "
She leaned up to him. He knelt down to meet her. They kissed like teenagers, with a desperate hunger, and then stretched out on the blanket.
With a heaven of stars above them and a crackle of firelight beside, they lay there, entwined, kissing and talking and kissing some more. They thought about making love, but it was too damned cold out, and frankly, making out was pretty fun.
In the blackest part of the night, when the stars were so bright they hurt your eyes and moonlight glowed on the foamy surf, Angie snuggled up alongside him and kissed his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.
"What now?" he asked quietly; the question that was always between them. If she hadnt been listening for it, the surf would have wiped it away.
"We dont have to decide anything, Con. For now, this is enough. " In the weeks since Christmas theyd seen each other now and then and talked on the phone for hours. Shed loved all of it so much, she didnt want to risk needing more.
"The old Angie liked to set goals and achieve them. She wasnt so good at lets wait and see. "
"The old Angie was young. " She kissed him, long and hard and with every scrap of love in her heart. When she drew back, she was trembling. In his eyes, she saw a shadow of the old fear, the uncertainty that they could make it a second time when theyd already failed once.
"Were acting like a couple of kids. "
"We were grown-up for too long," she said. "Just love me, Con. Thats enough for now. "
His hands slid down her back and slipped under her skirt. "I can do that. "
She grabbed the blanket and pulled it over them. "Good" was all she managed to say before he kissed her.
THE DRIZZLY FEBRUARY DAYS MELTED INTO ONE ANOTHER, forming a monotonous gray blur of passing time. It wasnt until the last night of this shortest month that Angie had the baby dream again. She woke with a start and rolled over in bed, searching in vain for her husbands strong and comforting presence. Alone, she crawled upright and switched on the bedside lamp, then sat there, with her knees drawn up, as if holding herself could somehow make her arms feel less empty.
The good news was there were no tear marks on her cheeks. Shed felt like crying, but she hadnt. Progress, she thought; it came in the tiniest increments when the sun went down.
It didnt surprise her that shed had the dream again. Living with Lauren sometimes churned up the past. There was no way to avoid it, no way to step aside. Especially now; in the past week, the teenager had finally begun to gain weight. There was an almost imperceptible roundness to her waist. A stranger wouldnt notice it, but to a woman whod spent so much of her adult life seeking that very thing, it shone like a neon sign. And today they had a doctors appointment scheduled; that wouldnt be easy.
Angie finally gave up trying to sleep and reached for the pile of work on her nightstand. For the next few hours, she busied herself with payroll and accounts receivable. By the time the gentle sun tapped on her window, shed found her peace again.
There would simply be days like this--nights like the one shed just endured.
Now and then in the coming months, she would be pulled up short by loss and longing. Shed known that when she offered Lauren a place to live. Some dreams did not go away easily, and undreaming them could last a lifetime. This she knew.
She threw back the covers and headed for the bathroom. After a long, hot shower, she felt better again. Ready to face the difficult day ahead. And there was no doubt that it would be difficult.
For Laurens sake, she would get through it. She was making her bed when she heard Lauren call out her name.
Angie went to the bedroom door, opened it, and yelled, "What?"
"Breakfast is ready. "
She hurried downstairs and found Lauren in the kitchen, stirring oatmeal.
"Good morning," Lauren said brightly.
"Youre up early. "
"Its not early. " Lauren looked up. "Did you have another bad night?"
"No. No," Angie answered quickly, wishing shed never mentioned that sometimes sleep evaded her.
Lauren smiled, obviously relieved. "Good. " She carried over two bowls of oatmeal and set them on the table, one on each blue placemat, then sat down opposite Angie. "Your mother told me I needed to eat more fiber and taught me how to make oatmeal. "
Angie doctored her bowl in the DeSaria way--brown sugar, maple syrup, raisins, and milk--and tasted it. "Fabulous," she declared.
"Of course Mira told me to eat lots of protein and Livvy took me aside and said that carbohydrates would make the baby strong. I guess Im supposed to eat everything. "
"Thats my familys answer to every question in life: Eat more. "
Lauren laughed. "My doctors appointment is at ten oclock this morning. The bus leaves--"
"What on earth makes you imagine Ill let you take a bus to see the doctor?"
"I know this is hard for you. "
Angie considered a smart-ass answer, but when she looked into Laurens earnest face, she said, "Life is full of hard choices, Lauren. I want to go to the doctors with you. "
After that, their conversation veered back onto familiar, everyday roads. As they stood side by side, washing dishes, they talked about the restaurant, the weather, the schedule for the rest of the week. Lauren told a funny story about her latest date with David, and an even funnier one about Mama.
By the time they reached the doctors office, Angie was tense again.
She paused at the clinic door, trying not to make this about her.
Lauren touched her arm. "Do you want to wait in the car?"
"Absolutely not. " Forcing a smile, however unnatural it felt, she opened the door and stepped into the medicinal-smelling office.
Memories came at her hard. Shed been in too many rooms like this one, put on too many flimsy gowns and put her feet into too many cold stirrups. For years, it seemed like all she had done . . .
She kept moving across the room, one step at a time. At the receptionists desk, she held onto the Formica ledge. "Lauren Ribido," she said.
The receptionist flipped through the stack of manila-foldered charts and pulled one out. Then she handed a clipboard to Angie. "Here. Fill this out and return it to me. "
Angie stared down at the familiar form. Start date of your last period . . . number of previous pregnancies . . . gone to term . . . Slowly, she handed it to Lauren.
"Oh," the receptionist said, frowning. "Im sorry. I assumed--"
"Dont worry about it," Angie said quickly. She led Lauren over to the bank of chairs along the wall. They sat down side by side.
Lauren began filling out the form.
Angie heard the chicken scratch sound of the pen on paper. In some strange way, it calmed her.
When they c
alled Laurens name, Angie almost stood up. Then she thought: No. Lauren had a lot of growing up to do. This was the start of it. Angie could only be here for her afterward.
The appointment seemed to last forever. It gave Angie time to relax, to regroup. By the time Lauren came out, Angie had regained control. She was able to talk to Lauren about all of it--the symptoms, the aches and pains, the morning sickness, the Lamaze classes.
On the way home, they stopped at the grocery store for more prenatal vitamins, and then sat down on a bench out front.
"Why are we sitting out here?" Lauren asked. "It looks like its going to rain any minute. "
"It probably will. "
"Im getting cold. "
"Button your coat. "
A green minivan pulled up in front of them and parked.
"Its about time," Angie muttered, tossing her paper coffee cup into the trash bin beside the bench.
The van doors opened all at once. Mira, Mama, and Livvy emerged onto the street. They were all talking at the same time.
Mama and Livvy went to Lauren. Each taking one of the girls arms, they hauled her to her feet.
"I thought the restaurant was closed today," Lauren said, frowning.
Mama stopped. "Angela said you needed some new clothes. "
A pink blush spread across Laurens creamy cheeks. The color seemed to emphasize her freckles. "Oh. I didnt bring my money. "
Livvy laughed. "Me, too, Mama. I forgot my wallet. Youll have to dust off the old credit card. I could use some maternity clothes, too. "
Mama thwopped the back of Livvys head. "Smart aleck. Come on. Its going to rain. "
The three of them took off down the street, arm in arm, their voices sounding like a swarm of bees.
Mira hung back. "So," she said softly. "Are you going to be okay with this?"
Angie loved her sister for daring to ask the obvious. "I havent been in a maternity shop for a long time. "
"I know. "
Angie looked down the street. The ironwork sign for Mother-and-Child hung at an angle above the sidewalk. The last time shed been inside the store had been with her sisters. Angie had been pregnant then, and smiling had come easily. She turned to Mira. "Ill be okay," she said, realizing as she said the words that they contained the truth. It might hurt a bit, might remind her of a few of her harder times, but those feelings were part of who she was, and in the end, it was more hurtful to run away than to face them. "I want to be there for Lauren. She needs me. "
Miras smile was soft and held only the merest worry. "Good for you. "
"Yeah," Angie said, smiling, "good for me. "
Still, she took her sisters arm and held on to it for support.
TWENTY-EIGHT
SPRING CAME EARLY TO WEST END. A COLD, RAINY winter set the stage for riotous color. When the sun finally dared to peek through the gray layer of clouds, the landscape changed before your very eyes. Bright purple crocuses came first, popping up through the bleak, hard earth. Then the hillsides turned green, and trees unfurled the splendor of baby leaves. Daffodils bloomed along every roadside, created spots of color amid the runaway salal.
Lauren bloomed as well. Shed gained almost fifteen pounds already. Any day now she expected her obstetrician to start frowning at the weighing-in debacle. She moved more slowly, too. Sometimes at the restaurant she had to pause outside the kitchen door and catch her breath. Walking from table to table had become an Olympic caliber event.
The Things We Do for Love Page 45
