Bundle of Joy (19 page)

The fight went out of him and he backed away, palms up. "You fight dirty, lady. I'm out of here." Turning, he headed off down the road.

#

Caroline sat very still atop the fender of the truck and watched as Donohue disappeared into the darkness.

"Charlie!" Her voice broke the stillness of the late summer night. "Please don't go."

No answer. She hadn't expected one. If ever a man had made the perfect exit, it was Charlie. Why on earth hadn't she bitten back those words? For years she'd prided herself on being able to keep her temper under control in situations that would have sorely tested a diplomat. Unfortunately it had only taken Charlie Donohue a little over six weeks to undo over thirty years of discipline.

She slipped down from the fender and climbed into the driver's seat of the truck. At least he'd been thoughtful enough to leave the engine running. She released the emergency brake and shifted into first. He couldn't have gone far. Adjusting the beams to high, she eased the truck down the road, craning for a glimpse of him.

"Come on, Charlie," she muttered. "Enough's enough."

Her husband, however, had chosen to avoid the road entirely and a few minutes later Caroline found herself on the main thoroughfare that led to her apartment. She doubted if there were bears in the woods of central New Jersey but still the thought of Charlie alone in the darkness made her feel absolutely terrible.

But no more terrible than the fact that she'd hurt him.

ii

Charlie didn't come home that night or the next. Caroline knew he was still alive because the truck had miraculously disappeared from its parking lot in front of her apartment along with two pairs of Levis while she was at work the day after the blow-up, but Charlie was nowhere to be seen.

Tuesday turned into Wednesday and Wednesday became Thursday and still no Charlie.

She was distracted, ill-tempered, and generally worthless at the store, and to make matters worse, she missed her appointment with Dr. Burkheit and had to make a new one for the following Monday. Her hair suddenly developed a mind of its own, sticking out in all manner of weird angles that neither gel nor mousse could tame. She couldn't button the waistbands of any of her fitted suits and was reduced to fastening her skirts with safety pins and elastic bands.

"You look awful," said Sam, who had dropped by the store to rent a dress for a UPI function where Murphy was being honored. "Are you having a tough time of it?"

Caroline sighed and looked at the gigantic run in her stocking. "Tougher than you could ever imagine."

"I don't think I've ever seen you quite so...." Sam stopped, apparently searching for the right word.

"Sloppy? Unkempt?" She laughed hollowly. "Stop me when I get close."

Sam leaned forward, moving the baby from one arm to the other as she grabbed for the diaper bag. "You're not very happy, are you?"

Caroline chucked her godson under his chubby chin. "I didn't know that being happy was part of the bargain."

"He's at the bar today," said Sam, laying James down on a thick stack of bath towels so she could change him.

Caroline said nothing.

"You could always drop by casually to say hello to Scotty."

Caroline shook her head. "I don't think that's a terribly good idea."

Sam deftly unfastened the old diaper and replaced it with a new one. Caroline burst into tears.

"I'm a reasonably intelligent woman," she said. "I can balance a checkbook and understand the principle behind deficit spending. Why does changing a baby's diaper look so darned hard?"

"It's no harder than talking to your husband."

"Spoken by a married woman of two years," said Caroline with a sniff. "I love you, Sam, but you're not the authority on marriage."

"I know when someone is being too stubborn for her own good."

"You don't understand," said Caroline, wiping her eyes with a tissue. "I was terrible."

"You're pregnant," said Sam. "That comes with the territory."

She met her friend's eyes. "I punched him."

Sam's mouth dropped
open. "You did what?"

"I punched him. We had a fight. He told me to take my best shot and so I punched him."

"Oh my God."

"Don't look at me like that, Sam. He deserved it."

"I can't believe you actually punched that poor man."

"Poor man? He was insufferable." She recounted the argument over the deer that had precipitated the whole thing. "The least you can do is stop laughing."

"It's that or cry. Maybe you were right in the first place and you two never should have gotten together."

Funny how her friend's words found their target in the center of Caroline's heart. Maybe this really was the end to their attempt at marriage. What she'd done to Charlie was unthinkable. In her wildest imagination she never would have even considered hitting another human being. They were a lethal combination, truly oil and water, and he was right to stay away.

#

Caroline usually worked late on Thursday nights to accom
modate customers who had big plans for the weekend. The weekend after Labor Day was normally a slow one, but if the crowd that stormed her shop that night was any indication, life in Princeton was zipping along just fine without her.

"Join us for a drink," said Mary Ann Freitag, an attorney with offices in Palmer Square. "Some of the old crowd from Drew are getting together at The Place. I know they'd love to see you."

Caroline hesitated. "I'm exhausted," she said with an apologetic laugh. "Maybe another time."

"Who knows if there will
be another time," said Mary Ann. "We're all in town, we're all free, let's do it tonight."

Caroline glanced at the clock. It was almost closing time and she knew Rhonda wouldn't mind doing the honors. The apartment had seemed so empty these past few nights that, exhausted or not, she welcomed the opportunity to escape her thoughts for an hour or two. "Who am I to argue with the legal mind?" she said at last. "Lead me to the crowd."

#

Mary Ann had a brand-new showroom-fresh Jaguar and she insisted on driving Caroline to The Place near Forrestal Village. "Don't worry about
getting back," she said, signaling a left turn into the pub's parking lot. "I'll deliver you myself."

You should only know what a straight line that is
,
thought Caroline as she climbed from the low-slung car and adjusted her linen skirt. Had there ever been a better opportunity for telling an old friend you were pregnant? Unfortunately, Mary Ann was off and running on another topic and the chance slipped away.

Maybe it was for the best. Wouldn't it be wonderful to spend a comfortable evening with old friends who knew absolutely nothing about the hash her life had become? For a few hours she could be Caroline Bradley, rising entrepreneur and well-known flirt, a woman who could make a party come to life simply by walking through the door.

"Look who's here!" cried a red-haired woman in tennis whites who was seated near the door. "It's been ages, Caroline."

Caroline hugged Lucy Fitzpatrick, noting the familiar scent of liniment and sunshine that clung to the woman. "Too long," she said.

Lucy put an arm about Caroline and tapped her beer mug for attention. "Everybody! The long-lost Caroline has reappeared."

Mary Ann hadn't been kidding when she said most of the old crowd from college was there. Girls--
women now--she hadn't seen in ten years waved hello while men she remembered all-too-well as goofy frat brats pressed kisses on her cheek. She knew the punch-lines of every joke and the dollar value of each and every stock option these ambitious old friends had ever been gifted with. And she knew she'd made a mistake before her fanny hit the chair.

Red suspenders, she thought, staring at the bright young men standing around the bar. Had she ever really believed red suspenders belonged on anyone save Santa Claus? All this talk about money and position depressed her. Charlie never talked about things like that. With Charlie, conversation could touch on anything from football to music to politics. Of course, the fact that Charlie
had
no money probably had something to do with it, but maybe he'd caught on long before Caroline to how boring a topic personal finance really was.

"...and then I told my banker..." What was Stu Bergman now anyway? Rumor had it he owned five pieces of prime Princeton real estate and half of Bucks County, Pennsylvania.

And Margie Lipari--wasn't she the girl who was always five dollars in debt to everybody? Margie now wore designer clothing--clothing that weren't rented--and had enough money to buy and sell the teachers who'd told her she wouldn't amount to anything.

They said they were happy. They laughed and joked as if they had life by the tail.
Who was Caroline to judge? Maybe they really did. Only why did their laughter and jokes suddenly make her so sad--and so eager to get home?

"Margaritas all around," said Mary Ann, motioning for a waitress. "Let's get this party moving."

"Not for me," said Caroline evenly. "Make it club soda with a twist."

"Come on," said Mary Ann. "You introduced us to margaritas."

"Well, now I've been introduced to club soda."

"Just one," Mary Ann urged. "A toast to the future."

"It's the future I'm thinking about," said Caroline, looking around the table at the familiar faces. "I'm pregnant."

The uproar was deafening. Mary Ann leaped to her feet and ran to the other side of the table to hug Caroline. The other women kissed her cheek and patted her on the back while the men sat there, bemused and more than a little bit disappointed.

Caroline sat in the eye of the storm, amazed that nobody, not one single person, asked her about the father of the baby. You would have thought that someone would have at least mentioned the fact that hers hadn't been an immaculate conception.

"When?" they asked. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl? Lamaze? Breastfeeding?"

"I'm married," she blurted.

Utter silence descended upon the group.

"You're joking." Margie Lipari stared at her as if she'd said the Dow was down 50 points.

"Actually I've never been more serious." She took a sip of water from the glass before her. "Charles and I were married in early July."

Stu thought for a moment. "Charles Banyon from Sci-Tech on Route 1?"

She lifted her chin. "Charlie Donohue from O'Rourke's."

"Call him," said Lucy. "Have him drop in to meet us."

"He--he works late on Thursdays," said Caroline truthfully. "He simply couldn't."

"Burning the midnight oil, huh?" asked Stu. "On his way to his first million."

"Is O'Rourke's a brokerage firm?" asked Mary Ann, eager for a new contact.

Fasten your seat belt, Mary Ann.
"It's a bar and grill."

"Keeping a new venture under wraps?" asked Stu. "Clever girl."

"O'Rourke's Bar and Grill," said Caroline once again, louder this time. "The best joint in Rocky Hill. Charles is the cook."

"You're joking," said Mary Ann. "Aren't you?"

"I've never been more serious."

Nobody knew what to say. They didn't make jokes or congratulate her. They didn't even talk about the baby. Mary Ann turned to Lucy Fitzpatrick and engaged the red-haired woman in a spirited discussion on state taxes. In the blink of an eye everyone was involved in the debate.

Everyone, that was, except Caroline. She might as well have been invisible. She sat there, sipping her club soda, wondering why on earth she'd ever thought coming to The Place had sounded like a good idea. Once upon a time, she'd been the center of attention at gatherings like this, captivating everyone with her beauty and her wit. Funny thing, though. She'd wanted to go home then too, only she hadn't the guts to admit it. Their conversations had been just as boring; their outlooks, every bit as self-centered; the stink of expensive after-shaves just as overpowering.

Only Caroline had been different, more interested in promoting her business than in promoting herself. She had so much to prove, both to herself and to others, that she never allowed discomfort to get in the way. Not one of these old friends had ever come close to learning anything about who Caroline Bradley really was. The candy-striped socks Charlie liked to tease her about were a deep dark secret and Caroline doubted if anyone seated at this table would understand the joke. But then, not even Charlie knew just how funny it really was....

#

"I hate Christmas parties," Carly said as she and Samantha walked to school. "They're stupid."

"I think they're great," said Sam. "You get to wear holly-berry pins and plaid satin ribbons."

Carly clutched her book
bag closer to her chest, feeling small and mean to even think such thoughts. "I think I'm getting the flu," she said, stopping in her tracks. "Feel my head. Isn't it hot?"