Babyland (36 page)
Authors: Holly Chamberlin
91
Opening Night
“L
ooks like the show is quite a success.” Alexandra was smashing in a silk sheath in lime green. “Congratulations, Anna.”
ooks like the show is quite a success.” Alexandra was smashing in a silk sheath in lime green. “Congratulations, Anna.”
If turnout was any indicator, the show was a success. The space was jammed with people; some were even waiting outside to squeeze in when others left. Best, it was a varied crowd, well-heeled suburbanites and art school kidsâpeople from Back Bay, the South End, and Somerville.
“I think you should be congratulating Jack,” I said, “not me. It's his work that brought people here.”
“Don't be so modest. I can't stand false modesty in a friend. You know you're the one responsible for this show. Without you, Jack would be off shooting a retirement dinner in Framingham right now.”
I laughed. “Okay, okay. So I'm partly responsible for the crowd. But let's not count our chickens before they hatch.”
“Dear, sensible Anna. Has he made any sales yet?”
I nodded. “A few. But the night's young. Anyway, the sales aren't as important tonight as the exposure.”
“Never underestimate the importance of sales,” she said. And then she looked at me closely. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I lied.
“You look, I don't know, different. Jack's still leaving tomorrow?”
I nodded. I didn't trust myself to speak.
Alexandra took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Hang in,” she said. “I've got to go and join Luke.”
For a moment I stood alone, listening to the excited talk and exuberant laughter of the crowd. I imagined the good reviews in the next day's paper. I thought of the interview I'd set up for Jack with an important art magazine out of New York, an interview he'd be doing via phone. Because the next day Jack would be on a plane to San Francisco and his new life. My heart constricted. It seemed wrong that we wouldn't be sharing his triumph, his time in the sun, his fifteen minutes of fame.
His first fifteen minutes of fame. Because I was sure that with hard work, inspiration, and a little luck, Jack was going to go far.
And I wouldn't be there with him. My plan had failed. In truth it hadn't been much of a plan. Still, I'd had hopes. I thought of the previous night at Jack's loft and was flooded again with desire.
At least, I thought, I have one spectacular night of passion to savor for the rest of my life. The trick would be to prevent an ecstatic memory from decaying into a bitter one. It would be a very difficult trick to pull off.
“Hi!”
I whirled to see Tracy smiling up at me.
“Oh, hi!” I said. “I'm glad you made it.”
“Actually, Bill and I have been here for about a half hour. It's such a mob scene it took me forever to find you.”
“Do you think people are enjoying themselves?” I asked.
Tracy swatted my arm. “You know they are. So, how long has Alexandra been seeing this new guy? She just introduced Bill and me.”
“Um,” I said eloquently, “I think she knew him a long time ago. But things just got romantic. I guess.”
Tracy nodded. “He seems nice. I'm happy for her. I mean, she seems somehow, I don't know, lighthearted. Well, as lighthearted as Alexandra will ever be.”
“So, what do you think of Jack's work?” I asked. “Be honest but not too honest.”
“I like it, Anna. And Bill's working up the nerve to spend a thousand dollars on the piece in the far corner, the big one of the ancient glass jar.”
“Oh,” I said, “he's not buying something just to be nice, is he?”
“Bill?” Tracy laughed. “The man who considers the pros and cons of every major purchase for weeks before acting? No. He wants the piece as a gift for me. For us, I suppose.”
“Ah, I knew I liked Bill,” I said. A financially responsible man who also liked to give his wife gifts? Bill was every woman's dream. “What's the occasion?”
Tracy suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Anna,” she said, “I know this is not the right time to tell you this, I know that you're busy, but ...”
“Tracy,” I said, “look around. Everyone's having a fine time. No one needs me, for the moment at least.”
“I'm going to try to get pregnant.”
“Wow,” I said. “I just assumed ... I don't know what I just assumed, exactly. Maybe that Bill didn't want to start another family.”
Tracy smiled ruefully. “He didn't. He's sixty years old, Anna. But he loves me enough to do this. I just have to try.”
“What ifâ” I began, and then changed course. “There are so many options today for women our age.”
“I know. So, if I don't get pregnant the good old-fashioned way, Bill and I will explore other ways of getting pregnant. I've already talked to my gynecologist. He's hopeful we can make this happen.”
Hopeful but not certain.
I thought of the expense and the possible heartbreak. I'd read somewhere that only about forty-four percent of women who wait until they're forty to try to conceive for the first time will be successful. I'd also read that assisted reproductive technologies like in vitro fertilization just don't make up for the loss of fertility women experience as they age.
“There's always adoption,” I said. I thought of Michaela's quest for a child and wondered how many of her horror stories of endless red tape and incompetence we could believe.
“I'm not sure I'm cut out for adoption,” Tracy said matter-of-factly. “I'm not sure that's what I want. I'll have to wait and see. I'll have to see what I learn from this experience. Whatever happens, I know it will change me. I know it will change everything.”
“Change is exhausting,” I said. “But I think I'm learning to accept it as an inevitable part of life.”
“What choice do you have?” Tracy said with a dry laugh. “What choice do any of us have? Roll with the punches, bend in the wind; she who adapts, survives. By the way, speaking of someone who easily adapts, where's Kristen?”
“The whole family is down with a stomach virus,” I told her. “I can't imagine how horrible that must be.”
“She has my sympathy. Look,” Tracy said, “I should get back to Bill. Congratulations, Anna.”
Tracy moved off and I wondered, If Tracy wanted a child so badly, why hadn't she gotten married in her twenties; why hadn't she married a man closer to her own age, one without a family behind him?
Because maybe she just hadn't been ready for marriage or for motherhood in her fertile twenties. Or maybe she had been ready but just hadn't been able to find the right man. There were a million possible reasons for Tracy being in the place she was in. There were a million possible reasons for my being in the place I was in. How do we wind up at any given point along the way? How does life get away from us? Those are questions with no easy answers.
And it was not the time to be contemplating those questions. Because suddenly I was confronted with my former fiancé, perfectly groomed, masterfully coiffed, gorgeously dressed.
“What's wrong, Anna?” he said by way of greeting. To be fair, I think my mouth was hanging open.
“Nothing,” I said, with only a bit of a squeak. “I'm just a bit surprised to see you here.”
“Why?” he asked, ingenuously.
Why? Where should I begin? With the fact that he thought Jack Coltrane not worth serious consideration as a person, let alone as an artist?
“I thought you weren't interested in art photography,” I said neutrally.
Ross shrugged. The gesture was elegant. “I'm not, really.”
“Then why ...”
I wondered, Did Ross know I was going to be here? Did he come to the opening to talk to me? And then anxiety struck. Did Ross, I wondered, know about last night? Was he here to accuse me of having been in love with Jack Coltrane all along?
“A business associate,” Ross said. “He's over by that big picture of a fence. Or whatever it is. He's really into this sort of thing. We're just stopping by before dinner at Shantung.”
I smiled, relieved. Of course Ross didn't know about last night. “Well, then,” I said, “I hope your business associate enjoys the show.”
Ross glanced around at the crowded room. “This place is mobbed.”
“I did it,” I said. “This is my event.”
“Oh.” Ross seemed genuinely surprised. “I assumed you were here because you had to be. I mean because you work with Coltrane.” Ross then scanned me from head to toe. “You look great, Anna. Is that a new dress?”
“No,” I told him. “I wore it once before.” Just after you and I announced our engagement, I told him silently. We went to dinner and the symphony. Remember?
“Ah. Well, it looks new. Unfamiliar. You look different. You're probably wearing your hair differently.”
It wasn't really a question so I didn't bother to answer. Because I would have had to point out that a French twist was something Ross had seen many times before. Nothing on the outside was different. Something on the inside was. And Ross couldn't identify it.
“So, you're feeling okay?” he said suddenly. “I mean, health-wise?”
“I'm fine,” I told him, wishing he'd move on and join his colleague. “I'm perfectly healthy. Thank you for asking.”
Suddenly, the expression on Ross's face grew serious. “Anna,” he said, “I've been thinking. Maybe we gave up too easily. You know, everything happening so fast ...”
“Ross,” I said. “Please. It wasn't going to work. We both know that.”
And suddenly I knew that Ross didn't completely know that.
“We were good together, Anna,” he said, reaching for my hand. “We had fun.”
I extricated my hand from his light hold. “Until the big stuff came along,” I said. “And then look what happened. Instead of turning to each other we turned away. If the pregnancy hadn't happened, something else would have come along soon enough and we'd be filing for divorce. It was better in the end that things ended when they did.”
Ross shook his head. “Then why do I feel so bad?”
I smiled ruefully. What could I say?
“I miss you, Anna,” Ross said then. “Do you miss me?”
I wondered, Why, oh why, is he doing this? Why at Jack's big show? Why on Jack's last night in town? I glanced around the room but didn't see Jack anywhere. None of my friends. Not even a distant acquaintance glancing back at me. No one to come to my rescue.
I looked back to Ross. “No, Ross,” I said evenly, “I don't miss you. At first I missed some of the fantasy we built around our relationship. You know, the glamorous life we were going to lead. The spectacular loft. Month-long vacations in Europe. The best restaurants. But not you, Ross. I don't miss you. I never really had you. How can I miss what I never had?”
It was bold to say what I said. But I thought Ross deserved the truth. Clearly, in Ross's case, ignorance was not bliss. It was giving him false hope.
The expression in Ross's eyes hardened. “I see,” he said, coldly. “I shouldn't have bothered saying hello tonight.”
I thought, He asked a question. I gave him the answer. Now he's mad at me?
“I'm leaving,” he said, and immediately walked away from me.
“I wish you happiness, Ross,” I said.
He didn't wish me anything in return.
I spent the next three hours circulating among the guests; answering questions about the work and referring people to Jack for more information; making sure the caterers were doing their job; and sending Rasheed off on necessary errands. I spoke to Jack only once, near the end of the party.
I caught his eye from across the emptying room. He smiled and came to join me. I wanted so badly to fling my arms around him. Of course, I didn't.
“I haven't seen you all night,” he said.
“That's a good thing. It means you were a hit.”
“Not me. The work. And I wouldn't assume it was a hit just because there were a lot of people gawking at it. I'm sure some of them hated it.”
“Okay, okay,” I said with mock annoyance. “Can't you just accept a compliment?”
Jack grinned. “Obviously not.”
“Look, you need to say goodbye to this final wave of admirers.”
“Do I have to? I don't even know that bunch.” We both looked at the small group of people gathered near the door, clutching the last plastic glasses of free wine, and looking with hope back at Jack.
“Don't crap out on me now, Jack,” I warned. “Just another half hour or so.”
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