Forever & Ever
Page 17
7: The Showering
THE WAIT for the grandbabies felt endless and far-off, until suddenly Evan was attending a joint baby shower at a Queens party space, where a hundred people ate baked ziti and a cake shaped like a giant carriage under a ceiling strung with paper flowers.
“Dazed” didn’t even cover it.
Matt, on the other hand, won diaper bag bingo and finished Evan’s cake when he wasn’t paying attention.
Simmering in melancholy, Evan blinked at the girls—his little girls; how were they old enough to have children?—who sat at the head table, morphing between toddlers and grown women. They sat with their husbands, happy, bright, and loving couples; he couldn’t have chosen better partners for them. Now living so close again and sharing parallel major life experiences, the once bickering sisters had mellowed into friends. The couples spent time together—dinners and weekend excursions, sporting events. And Miranda, working from home, became Josiah’s regular after-school pickup.
They weren’t starting out in crisis like he and Sherri did. They were adults with jobs—careers. Nice homes. Support systems. He chose to believe he was a good father, good father-in-law; they knew he was there for them, whatever they might need. They had Matt as well, and quite frankly, in case of a fight, break the glass and activate him.
Around the room were scattered their extended family. Josiah, Sadie, and Caroline darted between tables, playing with Austin’s little cousins. Jim and Griffin were at their table, sitting across from Matt, enjoying coffee.
Everything was perfect—or as perfect as Evan might allow himself to consider—and yet the tide of tears threatened to drown him. He didn’t even remember feeling this emotional when the announcement of babies happened at Christmas.
During his scan of the room, he spotted Cornelia by the gift table, shifting presents and straightening corners over and over again. If anyone understood his feelings of melancholy and joy, it was she.
“I’ll be right back,” he told Matt, who nodded as he read over the card for the next game (something about advice for the new parents with a hangman theme). “Anyone need anything?”
“A dolly to roll me out of here,” Griffin moaned, patting his stomach. “Or another piece of cake. Whatever you come across first.”
Smiling, Evan made his way over to Cornelia and the gift table. He recognized people as he passed: Miranda’s former roommates, Katie’s coworkers, mutual friends from their old neighborhood, cousins of Sherri’s. Sherri’s sister Ellie sat with Helena and her mother, Serena—they waved as he walked by. Danny’s girlfriend, Jane, helped Elizabeth set up the crepe paper–decorated chairs the girls would sit in to open gifts. He’d been warned that this was the longest part of the day.
“Hey,” he said as he made it to Cornelia’s side. She was wearing a pale pink sweater in honor of her soon-to-be-born granddaughter, and a long skirt, hair tucked behind her ears. Behind her glasses, Evan spotted unshed tears in her eyes. “How’s it going?”
She smiled and shrugged. “Everything turned out so nicely. Elizabeth was such a great help.”
“She and Jane made about six thousand paper flowers at my dining room table,” he said, remembering the chaos of his house the past few weeks. “They absolutely loved doing it. And you know I appreciate you and Beverly handling the planning and execution. I had no clue where to start.”
“We appreciated your check,” Cornelia said wryly as she winked. “I enjoyed every second of it. Plus Beverly and I are a team now—the christening will be a breeze.”
In a bright yellow-and-green floral dress, Beverly, Austin’s mom, sat on the other side of the room with a table of relatives who’d driven down from Boston in a caravan. She spotted Evan and Cornelia together and began waving.
“I love her. It stinks she and Fred are three hours away from us,” she added, a touch of sadness in her tone.
The unlikely friendship between Miranda’s in-laws and Katie’s began with a Skype meeting set up between all the in-laws to plan the joint shower. Evan and Matt were of little help, while Blake and Fred, the respective fathers-in-law, looked just as confused. Cornelia and Beverly ran away with the conversation. In the end, Matt said, “I’ll get the checkbook,” and they were done with it.
The planning led to dinners and then weekends of hanging out. Blake and Fred shared an epic love of discussing lawn care, which came in handy while Cornelia and Beverly ditched them for hours to lunch and shop and discuss new grandbabies to spoil.
Evan wanted to feel left out, but frankly he hated talking about his lawn.
“I don’t know, I kinda want to go outlet shopping now,” Matt said one night after hearing a report from Miranda and Kent about how his mother never seemed to answer the phone these days.
“Is the hotel all right? I wish we had the room to host everyone. Matt offered to buy an RV for the driveway, but I felt that was a little excessive.” His husband, Evan noticed, had left their table and joined Beverly’s, and was currently trying to read her game card, which she clutched to her chest in mock horror.
“The hotel’s lovely.” Cornelia shook her head, watching Matt’s antics. “We closed down the bar last night, which I haven’t done in about twenty years.”
“You’ll be back down here in a few weeks when the babies are born—try to pace yourself.”
They spent a quiet moment looking out over the crowd of joyful attendees. Elizabeth darted by wielding paper plates and tape while Jane perched on a chair with paper and pen in hand.
“Opening presents next,” Cornelia said briskly. “I went completely overboard, just to warn you. Beverly and I did a weekend at the outlets, and let’s just say these babies won’t need a lick of clothing until college.”
“I just bought two sets of nursery furniture—believe me, no judgment.”
“I saw Matt carrying in some large bags.”
“He said we couldn’t show up with pictures of the furniture, so he went shopping.” Evan trailed off. “I don’t have a clue what he bought.”
Cornelia started to laugh. “Sporting equipment?”
“Could be. He wouldn’t tell me.” Evan had brought two gifts of his own, framed pictures of Sherri with each of the girls when they were born, for the nurseries. He debated sharing it at the shower, but Elizabeth took the decision out of hands.
Crying is okay at a shower, Dad. People want to have a reason—and this is a good one.
He sincerely hoped crying was okay, because his throat had been clogged for hours.
“I hope it’s something entertaining,” Cornelia said beside him, twisting her hands. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m going to start bawling when Miranda opens the quilt.”
The quilt was Cornelia’s special gift for Miranda and Kent. It had been in their family for three generations, and each mother added a border of baby clothes to the piece before handing it down to the firstborn. A lovely tradition that made Evan wish he had something like that to pass down—hence the photos.
“I’ve been collecting pockets full of napkins since we got here,” Evan said, light as he could manage. “Stick by me. We’ll get through this.”
Cornelia fixed him with a curious stare. Then her expression softened. “I dug out my old journal from when I was pregnant with Kent. Every time I see him these days, I imagine he’s….”
“A little kid? I feel like my brain has a glitch.” Evan watched Miranda getting up from her chair, Kent at her side to steady her. Her dress was pink like Cornelia’s, the confirmation they were having a girl the perfect bow to the top of her pregnancy.
“I swear I had sympathy labor pains last night.”
He wrinkled his nose. “That might have been the binge-drinking.”
They laughed, watching as Kent helped Miranda navigate the chairs and tables, directing her toward the restrooms in the back corner. He was so serious and careful with her, hovering at a respectable distance. Kent’s attentiveness to Miranda, the way he listened to her, balanced her out, reminded Evan of Sherri. That
Miranda would find someone patient and strong like her mother made perfect sense.
Back at the table, Katie and Austin were making terrible origami hats out of their napkins, laughing loudly at their own hilarity. An absentminded professor with a dry sense of humor felt like the ideal match for independent Katie, and if no one else saw the character resemblances between Austin and Matt, Evan wasn’t going to point them out.
“You get the name out of them yet?” Cornelia asked, breaking the quiet. “Or even the gender?”
“No to both. When Matt tried and failed, I realized we would find out when they tell us. Or in the delivery room.”
Austin and Katie kept the baby’s gender between them and kept wraps on their name choices like these were state secrets. At Miranda’s gender reveal party, Katie remained in a state of polite eye roll (though she shed a tear when they announced the baby’s name would be Shelia—a combination of Sherri and Cornelia) and was tight-lipped as a spy under the hot lights.
“I realize this might be against your ethics, but what about bribing Josiah?” she teased.
Evan sighed dramatically.
The weekend after the gender reveal party, Josiah had arrived to spend the night with his grandfathers. They had big plans—pizza and wings, an Xbox marathon, and staying up late.
Austin and Katie were dressed up for a work event at the Knicks, with Katie already bitching about her shoes as they walked in.
Josiah dropped his backpack and jacket on the ottoman, bouncing around the house so much that Evan suspected presugaring.
“LeBron!” he yelled as Katie gave Austin a smirk.
“Now see, I know who that is,” Austin called as Josiah cracked up, jumping next to Matt on the sofa.
“Do I want to know?” Matt asked as he grabbed Josiah for a wrestling match.
“My son has decided the baby should be named after an NBA player.”
“Shaq!” Josiah squeaked as he wriggled out from under Matt and onto his back. “Kobe!”
“Hey, what did I tell you about that name?” Katie warned, wagging her finger. “Come give me a kiss and don’t break Matt.”
“So does that mean it’s a boy?” Evan asked, fake casual.
“I will neither confirm nor deny the baby’s gender.” Katie gave her father a saucy look. “Nice try, though.”
“Dominique!” Josiah darted away from Matt’s grab, running to give Katie a hug.
“How much sugar did you give this child?” Matt grumbled, rolling off the sofa.
“A spoon and the bag of Dominos. Was that wrong?” Austin asked, innocent as a babe, picking Josiah up for a tight hug. “Be good for your granddads. Brush your teeth.”
Josiah kissed his father on the cheek. “Isaiah? Charles Barkley?”
After dinner and surprise cupcakes, thanks to Matt, they settled down on the sofa to play basketball on the Xbox.
“Why do you think the baby should be named after a basketball player?” Evan asked, settling into the side chair and putting his feet up.
“Because they’re all rich and have their own sneakers,” Josiah said, biting his lip as he concentrated on his controller.
“Baby’s not going to need a shoe deal for a while,” Matt pointed out.
Josiah focused on the game, the only sounds the clicks and clacks of their controllers. Evan dozed a bit, happy to be an observer and not have to figure out how the damn thing worked.
“Why is Aunt Miranda naming her baby Shelia?” he asked finally.
Evan and Matt shared a glance.
“Well, you know Aunt Miranda and Katie’s mom died when they were teenagers…,” Evan began.
“Like my mom, only I was a baby,” Josiah said, his brown eyes wide.
“Right. Her name was Sherri. So they took the Sh from her name and the last few letters of Kent’s mom’s name—which is Cornelia—and that spells Shelia. It’s a nice way to honor their moms.” Evan smiled at the thought. He loved the name, loved the sentiment behind it.
“Oh.” Josiah went quiet again, gaze locked on the television screen. Matt gave him a wink—which Evan easily translated into “good job.”
Matt and Josiah continued their play until Josiah suddenly hit Pause.
“Bathroom break?” Matt asked as Josiah got up abruptly and then ran into the hallway, toward the kitchen, not the first-floor guest bath.
“Josiah?” Evan called, getting up to follow the boy, with Matt close on his heels.
They found him in the kitchen, marker in hand at the white board on the fridge, scribbling.
He wrote a few letters, then wiped them off with his sleeve. Did it again and again. His little body blocked Evan’s gaze, so he couldn’t see his calculations.
Josiah muttered to himself, stepped back, then tilted his head.
“That works,” he said before stepping to one side.
In big letters, he’d written Mavan.
“Two letters from Matt,” Josiah explained, gesturing to his work. “And the end of Evan. Mavan! Mavan Frederick, after all the grandpas! That’s what we should name the baby!”
Now, Cornelia giggled behind her hand.
“He refers to the baby as Mavan,” Evan sighed. “Austin and Katie thought it was cute for the first few days, then they thought it was a joke, and now they’re worried he really thinks that’s what they’re naming the baby.”
She cleared her throat, dabbing at her eyes with her fingers. “I mean, it’s kind of a cool name. Unique!”
“Maybe he thinks they’ll reconsider LeBron if he keeps saying Mavan enough.”
“Works for a boy or a girl.” Cornelia began to giggle again.
Evan felt himself succumbing to her amusement; he covered his eyes with his hand.
“You know Matt’s rooting for it.”
He moaned in response. “Oh God, what if he got the baby something with Mavan embroidered on it!”
Cornelia lost it completely.
OPENING THE gifts? The longest part of the day.
Jim covertly watched a baseball game on his phone as Griffin and Matt played dirty word hangman on a series of napkins. Sadie, Caroline, and Josiah gathered all the bows and ribbon for Elizabeth to make hats as Jane dutifully wrote down each gift and who gave it.
Danny showed up halfway through with his friend Ollie in their gym clothes; they raided the kitchen where the food had been moved to, and emerged with two huge plates of food, bread tucked under both their arms.
“Well, now I’m hungry again,” Matt muttered.
“Hurry up if you’re going for what? Thirds? They’re getting to your gift soon.” Evan gave him the side-eye. “I assume you want to see them open it.”
Matt said nothing but laughed evilly as he walked away.
“Bring us ziti,” Griffin stage-whispered.
“And bread,” Jim added, though he wilted at Griffin’s side-eye. “I mean salad.”
“What did you two get them?” Evan asked, convinced the pile was not going down but rather reproducing bags and boxes for each one opened.
“State-of-the-art Diaper Genies,” Griffin said. “Like they’re practically sentient.”
“And money.” Jim looked up from his phone. “Because kids are expensive.”
Evan put up four fingers, then pointed to himself.
“Thank God we need a woman to get pregnant.” Griffin drained his cup of punch. “There’s no such thing as an accidental artificial insemination.”
“Eating,” Danny mumbled.
“Wasn’t there a TV show,” Ollie piped up before Danny elbowed him.
“Don’t encourage them.”
Katie opened a baby tub, and then Miranda got a bottle warmer, and the assembled guests cooed. Evan saw Matt’s bags getting closer to the assembly line of Cornelia and Beverly, and then looked back toward the kitchen to see if Matt had emerged. There was a fifty-fifty chance on whether the gifts would be sentimental or ridiculous; if it was possible for them to be both, Matt would have figured that out.
The tray he’d commandeered, packed high with food, dropped in the center of the table.
“Perfect timing,” Danny said, grabbing another hunk of bread.
“Excuse me, I’m moving up closer for the big reveal,” Matt said, rubbing his hands together with childlike glee.
“Do I go with him or hide?” Evan asked no one in particular.
MATT KNEW it was mean to tease Evan, convince him his gift was outlandish or bizarre. He cultivated a sense of “what did you do, Matt?” in everything he did, and this wasn’t an occasion to let pass by. He “excuse me’d” his way to the front, pulling an empty chair so he was front and center to the girls.
“Let me guess, this is from you?” Miranda asked, shifting her weight on the chair.
He fluttered his eyelashes in response.
“Did we decide,” Katie asked loudly, “on Grampy or Poppy?”
“We should take a poll,” he started, moving to stand up. “By applause?”
“Sit down, Groppy.” Miranda looked at the giant sack in front of her. “What did you do?” God, she sounded just like Evan.
“Should we open them at the same time?” Katie asked, hands hovering over the top of the bag. “You are dying to do a countdown. I can see it on your face.”
“Oh how well you know me. Five… four… three… two… one!”
Like toddlers on Christmas morning, Miranda and Katie tore into the bags.
“What in the world?” asked Miranda, coming up for air with handfuls of clothing. But not clothing clothing. Oh no.
“So people apparently dress their babies in costumes while they’re sleeping and take pictures, then put them on the internet,” Matt jumped in. “Passes the time, I guess.”
Katie shrieked with laughter as she pulled out a mermaid tail in shiny aquamarine and a tiny Viking helmet.
“It’s a hot dog costume!” Austin and Kent crowded over their wives’ shoulders as Miranda flapped the bitty wiener over her head.
The doctor coat and stethoscope in Katie’s bag reduced Austin to clapping like a madman.