by Nancy Werlin
She looked into Sarah's eyes and saw that Sarah guessed where she was going. Sarah's mouth had dropped open into an O. Her lashes brushed down briefly, covering her eyes for just a second before she looked starkly back at her friend.
"Oh, Lucy. What are you saying? That you don't love him back? Or—" Sarah frowned, looking deeper, and her face softened with understanding. "You're not sure if you do or not."
The relief was amazing. Lucy reached forward and grabbed Sarah's hands. "Sarah, I thought I did. I promise you, I thought I loved him. When he proposed, I felt like angels were singing or something.
"But since then, there's been so much going on—Zach's parents flying in from Arizona, and they're being supportive and all, but there's stuff that Zach hasn't told me about how they reacted. I can tell his mother was crying, and his father gave me this look once. Just—this look."
Sarah made a sympathetic noise.
"It was just that one time," Lucy continued, "and now they're pretending everything's okay, and they call me dear Lucy, and ask how I'm feeling, and I have to pretend too. But I think they must hate me underneath. You know?"
Sarah nodded.
"So how could that be okay? And I don't blame them. This isn't what they wanted for Zach. They want him free and at Williams College full-time, not married and at U-Mass part-time and being a father to a kid who's not his." She pulled her hands away from Sarah's and crossed her arms in front of her. "So."
"I see," said Sarah. "Oh, Lucy. I should have realized there would be all these … tensions. I guess I did, but I hadn't thought about exactly what they would be. I was more thinking about school and you needing to put off college yourself and stuff. But you have, like, in-law problems."
"That's one way of putting it."
"Sorry."
"It's okay. It's true." Lucy hesitated. "That's not all, though. Zach has been making list after list about the future, and then checking things off one by one. Did I tell you, he's even found us a place of our own to live? We're going to house-sit for this professor who's on sabbatical with his family. And he's found this other part-time job, programming, that earns more money, and I don't even know what else he's got going."
"I knew about the house. Just three blocks away from your parents. That sounded great." Sarah grinned. "Actually, I went to look at it earlier today. Just a drive-by. It looks nice."
"I haven't seen the inside yet, but yes, a whole house to ourselves for very cheap, so long as we take good care of it. I'm not complaining, please don't think that."
"I would never think that."
"I'm just trying to explain how I'm feeling about Zach. I mean, it was already strange, being pregnant, but now, in the middle of all this crazy wedding stuff… sometimes it's like he's not Zach anymore. He's the Energizer Bunny. I don't even think he sleeps! He's just planning, planning, planning. And then racing in to tell me about something else he's got under control. That's what he says all the time, he has this thing under control; and then he has some other thing under control." Lucy did not add what she wanted to add, which was that from her point of view, it was all useless. How could Zach think he could fight the supernatural with a job and a nice place to live and a really good deal on a used car? Why instead wasn't he focusing on the time that he and Lucy had together, time that was running out fast?
"I barely see him," Lucy said.
Sarah nodded. "Anything else going on that's bugging you?"
"Oh, not really. Just maybe that Soledad is almost exactly the same way, except about the wedding. I don't understand that either. It's just a small ceremony at the house—family and close friends. How can there possibly be very much to do? I mean, I found a dress on eBay. And she got the justice of the peace booked, and the caterer. The house is perfectly clean. But she's still racing around doing I-have-no-idea-what."
"There's a lot going on," said Sarah.
"Yes. And you see, they're doing everything, and there I am. The cause of all the trouble. And I sit like a lump, growing the baby. It's honestly all I can manage, that and keeping up at school—and I bet I couldn't even do that if you weren't helping me. My mind's been so scattered. Sometimes, Sarah, it doesn't even seem worth it to me. School, I mean. So what if I fail physics? And I get so tired. But I have to pretend about school too. Pretend I care.
"I'm whining. There's no getting around it. I'm whining and I'm complaining."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Please. It's just me here. I think you have a right to whine. Honestly, Lucy. We all have the right to whine when life gets tough. I mean, remember? You used to let me whine to you all the time about Jeff, when we were going out, and then when I finally broke up with him. How come you think it's not okay for you to whine to me now? This is much bigger stuff than my problems with Jeff ever were."
"I don't know." Lucy squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She hadn't realized how badly she needed to talk until she opened the floodgates. And now she couldn't stop. "It's not that I don't think this is big. It's that—and also, Sarah, don't you dare say that what happened with you and Jeff wasn't big and serious too. It was. You were in real pain over him. I think you still are."
"And so are you in pain," said Sarah softly in the dim warmth of the room.
Somehow, that shut Lucy up.
After a minute, she pulled up her knees and hugged them. She looked across at Sarah, who was looking quietly back at her. She smiled crookedly at her friend.
"Say more," said Sarah. "Say more about Zach. Because what I think I'm hearing is that you do love him. That it's just a hard time right now. And you know what? I'm not going to say you shouldn't marry him, even though right at this moment, you're not sure."
"You're not?"
Sarah shook her head.
"What are you going to say, then?"
"That you're having trouble being the one who takes, instead of the one who gives." Lucy could feel the shock on her own face. She saw Sarah smile before she went on. "I understand that. But, Lucy, you have to learn to accept. And you have to learn to accept with—well, with grace, just the same way that you give. You've given plenty to me, in the past, whenever I needed you. Jeff—what happened with me there—that's only one example. So now, you get to receive. From everybody in your life. It's all right. It's more than all right."
Lucy was still staring speechlessly at Sarah.
"I'll be there for you tomorrow," Sarah said. "When you get married. And so will everybody who loves you, including Zach. And his parents, despite how difficult it may be for them in some ways."
Lucy was quiet for a long time. She had come here to talk with Sarah, to share how she was feeling. She had wanted to give Sarah the illusion of closeness, since she couldn't give the full truth. She had expected to be giving. She had not expected to be receiving.
She had underestimated her friend.
She would have to select her words carefully, but if she did, then she could tell the truth to Sarah. The truth of her heart, anyway. She said: "Zach's so strong, Sarah. I had no idea before now. He's changing his whole life, his whole future, for me and the baby. It takes my breath away."
"Yes," said Sarah. "He's giving. Your job is to accept."
"But I have nothing to give back!" Lucy found she was wailing. "He gives everything and gets nothing!" It was said. Her secret was safely passed to Sarah. Sarah, who would not understand fully, because she would think that this would be a longer marriage than the few weeks it truly would occupy. She would think that Lucy would be able to give to Zach later, in the give-and-take of a normal marriage.
But Sarah wasn't leaning forward, full of those types of reassurances. Instead, she was grinning. Grinning! And trying to restrain laughter—
"Sarah!" Awkward and lumbering though she was, Lucy flung aside the afghan, grabbed one of the sofa pillows, and hurled it at her friend. She followed up with another pillow, beating on Sarah's head. "I pour out my heart, and you laugh!"
"I'm sorry!"
"But I was completely serious
, and I meant everything I said, and then you go and laugh—"
"Oh, I am sorry. I know you meant it. You were so earnest, but then the bit about, he gets nothing …" Sarah pulled the pillow away from Lucy and held it up in front of her face so that only her eyes showed above it. She waggled her eyebrows. "Granted, I'm more experienced than you are. We can thank the hateful Jeff for that. But I can think of a few things you could do for Zach. Can't you? Honestly, now?"
Lucy flushed scarlet. The conversation had taken yet another unexpected turn. She sat back down, and took up another pillow in order to hug it tightly. "Everything isn't all about sex, Sarah."
"But some things are."
"Sure, but that wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about tonight."
"Well, are you done with what you wanted to talk to me about?" The glint of laughter in Sarah's eyes had mostly faded, but a small smile still lingered on her mouth.
For weeks and months now, Lucy had been feeling so much older than Sarah. Older, more tired, and more experienced. Now, twice in the same conversation, Sarah had made her feel like a child. Had Sarah always been this wise, and she hadn't noticed?
"Yes," she said. "I guess I'm done."
"Good. Because I had something I wanted to talk to you about tonight too. And yes, it's sex."
Lucy squirmed.
"Will you let me talk to you about this, Lucy?" Sarah wasn't laughing now, and Lucy realized abruptly that this topic was as hard for Sarah to bring up as it had been for her, before, to talk about how she was feeling.
"Yes," Lucy said uncertainly.
"Thanks."
There was a short silence before Sarah went on. "I saw how Zach was looking at you the other day, and how you were looking at him too. Maybe you're not in love, I don't know about that. Time will tell about that. But you're in lust. Both of you."
"I'm the size of an elephant," Lucy blurted.
"No, you're not. It's been a big surprise to me, watching you. You look pregnant, yes, and you look wonderful, Lucy. Truly. More beautiful than ever. Your hair—and your skin. It's just amazing. And you've kept working out too. That's amazed me, that you're still doing yoga and weights and stuff." Sarah's voice was unmistakably sincere. "You'll be a gorgeous bride tomorrow."
"Hormones," Lucy muttered. "Your body snaps into this super-healthy place because of the baby." She did not mention that she had another reason to keep as fit as possible: just in case she was going to plow a field using a goat's horn.
"What I'm saying is, it seemed to me Zach likes how you look. Pregnant or not. And I happen to know that you can have sex when you're pregnant. So I figure you're going to, with Zach. Right?"
Lucy squirmed again. "Well," she said.
"Lucy, this is me. And you. You were frank enough with your opinions back when we were talking about me and Jeff."
"Uh," Lucy said.
"So? Have you already? You and Zach?"
"No," Lucy whispered.
"Okay, right." Sarah blew out a breath. "Here's the thing. I don't know a lot about sex, Lucy, but I know more than you do. I know it ended badly for me, but for a while there, I did love Jeff, and he loved me. In his way. And, and, you were raped.
"I know you have Soledad and that counselor and everything. But I'm your friend, and I just wanted to talk with you a little bit. I thought—maybe there'd be things you'd be more comfortable talking about with me than with your mom or that counselor."
Oh, Lucy thought. Oh, Sarah. You are a good friend. The best.
She hesitated. Then: "Well," she said. And then was surprised—shocked—amazed—by the many questions that she wanted to ask her friend.
And could.
CHAPTER 44
Lucy's bedroom was crowded, with Lucy, Soledad, Carrie Greenfield, Sarah, and Pierre in it. All of them—except Pierre—were fussing about Lucy's wedding dress, or Lucy's hair, or Lucy's shoes, and checking that Lucy was wearing something old, new, borrowed, and blue, which she was.
Lucy didn't mind. She caught Sarah's eye in the mirror. Sarah looked remarkably fresh for someone who had been up until after two a.m. talking. So, for that matter, did Lucy. They exchanged grins. Be in the moment was one of the things Sarah had said last night. Focus on what's happening right now.
Lucy had decided that would be a good philosophy for her entire wedding day. It was interesting, how her mood could change so fast. She felt wonderful right now. Calm and floating and ecstatic all at once. Maybe it was the long talk with Sarah last night. Maybe it was the silent, emotion-filled look she had exchanged with Zach when she'd run into him in the kitchen at six a.m., both of them barefoot and in pajamas. Or maybe it was simply a reckless human desire to run rather than walk into the inevitable. For whatever reason, her doubts had slipped away. She was getting married today. Yes, she was. In half an hour.
Inside her, the baby moved. She saw the other women notice as she put a hand on it. By agreement, they were all wearing blue dresses, though there had been no attempt to match colors or fabrics or styles.
"Okay?" said Soledad.
"Yes," said Lucy. "Just fine."
"Lucy's dress is perfect," Zach's mother, Carrie, said to Sarah. Carrie had kept up a constant stream of chatter for the last hour in the bedroom, much of it stuff she'd said multiple times. "When she told me she'd found something on eBay, I was so worried. The pictures are forever. And a good cut makes all the difference when there's, um, a tailoring problem." Her eyes shifted toward Lucy's stomach but then veered sharply off. "But with the empire waist on this dress, you can hardly tell. And ivory was the right choice, with Lucy's coloring. Also, it's a lovely silk. Sumptuous." She smoothed the delicate lace that clung to the slope of Lucy's shoulders. "Now, calf-length might have been better for an afternoon wedding, but I guess there wasn't time to get it shortened. Hemming might have ruined the line anyway." She smiled at Lucy.
Carrie was trying hard, and Lucy appreciated it. She smiled back at the woman who would very soon be her mother-in-law. "Thank you."
It helped, she knew, that they had such a long history. That, when Carrie looked at her, she didn't just see a pregnant teenage girl who was selfishly stealing her son's future. She also saw the little girl whose hair she had braided in childhood, the girl she had given old clothes for dress-up, the girl she had sat down at age twelve for a long talk on how important it was for girls to express themselves strongly and not be too quiet and shy. Because of this shared history, they were now capable of at least seeing each other across the gulf of their different self-interests. In fact, Lucy thought, if she weren't going to lose her mind and leave Zach holding the baby, then surely within two or three years—or possibly much sooner, if the baby worked the kind of soothing magic that babies were supposed to—the gap between them would have been bridged.
That wasn't going to happen, of course. Zach had told his parents the full story, but they had not believed it. There had been strong words about duplicity and taking advantage and, of course, insanity. Nonetheless, on this wedding day, the Greenfields had chosen to be kind and to say welcoming and polite things. Above all, they were here. Carrie had even come upstairs to help Lucy get ready, and was praising her dress. She was loaning Lucy a veil to wear. And soon she would stand with her husband in the living room beside their son as he said his marriage vows.
It was really quite a feat of generosity and courage. Lucy wished that she had the years ahead in which to honor her in-laws for it properly. But all she could do now was chatter warmly in response to whatever Carrie chose to say, to help her get through it.
"The power of the search engine," Lucy told Carrie. "I entered maternity wedding gown, size small, and just like that, I had two dresses to choose from. This one looked the best, and it said it was new, and it had a buy-it-now option for ninety dollars. Better not to ask why it was available new and so cheap, huh?"
Oops. Carrie had winced. Her sense of humor and Lucy's had never been the same. Lucy moved on quickly. "But I can't take credit for ch
oosing ivory instead of white. I just took what was there. Actually, for a while, I was thinking that I ought to wear, I don't know, red." She stopped talking, aware that she was verging on danger again. Maybe she was less calm than she had thought.
Then it was Soledad's eyes she was meeting in the mirror. A wave of déjà vu swept over Lucy. The last time they'd been together while Lucy put on a full-length dress, posed before a mirror, and discussed wearing non-standard options and accessories, had been—
The prom. Twenty-two weeks ago.
Lucy bit her lip. She wondered if Soledad was thinking about this too. She hoped not.
"I'm glad you decided on traditional today," was all Soledad said.
Carrie nodded vehemently.
Sarah approached with a pile of lace in her hands. "Keep your head still," she said, breathing on the back of Lucy's neck, where the triple strands of the pearl choker borrowed from Soledad were fastened. "But bend forward."
"At the same time? Sarah, the laws of physics—"
"Like you could even pass physics without me tutoring you. Just do what I say."
Lucy leaned slightly forward. Sarah placed the veil on her head, fastening it with three ebony combs that dug securely into Lucy's hair. She adjusted the fall of the lace over Lucy's shoulders and back. Then she stepped away. The veil framed Lucy's face and then hung down in the back almost to her knees.
The women looked at Lucy. Even Pierre lifted his patient, blue-beribboned head from the carpet to stare. Soledad reached out one hand as if to touch Lucy, but then didn't.
"There," whispered Sarah. She blinked, and then grinned broadly. "Pretty amazing."
Carrie too was blinking away tears. The veil was the "old" item. It had been Carrie's wedding veil, a family heirloom. It was a long fall of thick lace from the 1930s, once pure white, now darkened with age to a soft yellow ivory. It shouldn't have looked good with the newer, V-necked dress that Lucy had bought so cheaply. But against all odds, it did. Lucy's dark hair gleamed beneath the veil. Her dark eyes took on a mysterious depth and power.
