Driving Lessons: A Novel (21 page)

BOOK: Driving Lessons: A Novel
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I nodded, embarrassed. “Thanks. I’m really not that far along though, so it’s, you know, private.”

“You got it. You won’t hear another peep from me about it until you’re ready, and then I’ll talk your ear off. Take it easy.” He patted my arm gently.

“Thanks, Ray.”

I waved and continued on toward Bauble Head, wiping my eyes. It had been sweet of Ray to offer his and Vanessa’s much-needed wisdom but a little too premature for my taste. I was barely a month along. Hopefully Mitzi lacked the fetus sonar that Ray seemed to possess. I wanted to keep my pregnancy quiet until I couldn’t button my pants anymore. Which, unfortunately, looked like it would be sooner rather than later. Already my waistbands were beginning to leave angry red indentations in their wake.

A new display featuring a stuffed turkey with a rhinestone tiara perched atop its head greeted me as I pulled open the door to Bauble Head. I wondered for the thousandth time if Mitzi even
wanted
to make more money here, or if she was perfectly fine with bejeweled tchotchkes in her windows and, oh wow, were those bedazzled gourds at the register?

“Sarah?” Mitzi’s perfectly coiffed head popped out from the back-room door. “Hey, honey!” The sound of a box hitting the floor startled us both. “One second, I’m just goin’ through some new inventory!”

“No problem!” I called back. I realized I was grinning ear to ear as I took off my coat.

“Darlin’, how was New York?” she sang as she skipped toward me on purple kitten-heeled mules. “How is Mona?” She reached out to give me a hug and then pulled back, observing me with wide eyes rimmed with mascara and purple liner.

“She’s feeling good, thanks. Day by day, you know?”

She pulled up her stool and gestured for me to have a seat on my own. “I do know. Bless her heart. And did you say that she was single?”

“She was, but she actually reconnected with somebody a month or two before the surgery . . .”

Mesmerized by Mitzi’s unwavering interest, I surprised myself by launching into a thorough rendition of my trip, complete with tales about Franklin and even my drive into Manhattan. Throughout, she laughed and mmm-hmmed and hand-patted in all the right places. I imagined it must have been what talking to Oprah felt like. When I was finished, I felt terrific.
Rhinestone therapy. Oh my God! Rhinestone Therapy! Of course!

“Mitzi?” I said, barreling through my reservations about challenging her current business model.

“Hmmm?”

“Have you ever thought about trying to bring in a new demographic of customers?”

“Sure I have. I mean, who wouldn’t want to turn a better profit? Although I would hate for Bauble Head to overwhelm my life. This is really just fun for me, you know? Sorta like my playhouse.” She looked around. “My big, gaudy playhouse. Why? Did your New York trip get that brain of yours buzzin’?”

“It did, actually. I just, well, first and foremost, I wonder about the name.”

“Bauble Head?”

I nodded.

“Why? You think it’s tacky?”

“Maybe a smidge.”

“I can see that. To be honest, I don’t love it, but Clyde and I came up with it over a bottle of Dom Pérignon the night we officially leased this space, so it’s got some memories for me. Why? Did you think of somethin’ better?”

“I did. Just now, actually, although I’ve been racking my brain over it for weeks.”

“Well, go on, what is it?”

“Okay, it’s just a thought, but what about Rhinestone Therapy?”

Mitzi tilted her head as she considered it. “Rhinestone Therapy,” she repeated slowly. “I think I like it.” She drummed the counter with her fuchsia fingernails. “You think that will bring in new customers? A new name and a new sign?”

“Among other things, yes, but that’s a good start. I’m actually starting up a marketing consultant business—”

“Are you leavin’ me?”

“Oh no, not at all. I’d love to stay on part-time if you’ll have me. I’m just letting you know that—”

“If I like your ideas I’m gonna need to pay for ’em?”

“Well, yes. But at next to nothing, of course. I’m just starting out and you’re a friend, and also I work for you, so you would have me at a rock-bottom rate.”

“What’s
your
business name, smarty pants?”

“I actually don’t have one at the moment.”

“I have an idea for you, free of charge.”

“What’s that?”

“Big Mouth Marketing.”

“Mitzi, I’m sorry, did I offend you with all of this? If that’s the case, please just disregard it. It was just a thought.”

She stood up and put her hands on my shoulders, seeming to take particular delight in the fact that, from this angle, she was actually the taller one for once.

“Sarah, I love your idea. I’m just givin’ you crap.” I smiled, relieved. “You think I’m thin-skinned enough to get my feelins hurt over a name change? Come on, now. You’re not givin’ southern women enough credit. As far as workin’ with you, let me think about it.”

“Oh good. I’m so glad. And of course, take your time. Although, your suggestion is actually pretty great.”

“What suggestion?”

“Big Mouth Marketing. I kind of like it.”

“Of course you do. That will be fifty dollars. Pay up.” She laughed and walked out from behind the register. “Now, we have a ton of unpacking to do. I just got a bunch of winter crap in.” She glanced back at me. “Rhinestone Therapy, huh? It’s growin’ on me, missy.”

22

A
s I locked up the store, I was suddenly seized by an urgent need for iced tea. I had never craved it before, but now every taste bud I possessed yearned for it. My first official craving. Sure, I had indulged in some decadent foods since finding out I was pregnant, but that was just gluttony. This was different. This was a
Somebody in this parking lot is going to die if I don’t get that iced tea
situation. Ah, the coffee shop. They had to have it, or at the very least, a beverage that came close enough.

I made a beeline for it with the focus of an Olympic speed skater, practically breaking a sweat in the process despite the fact that it was, finally, cool outside. Inside, it was all I could do not to squeal with delight upon seeing the very words that were flashing neon in my brain scrawled on the chalkboard menu behind the register. I closed my eyes as I took my first sip through the straw. Sweet Sally, it was good. I thanked Bonnie, who was no doubt a bit taken aback by my show of gratitude.

On my way out, I surveyed the early-evening crowd, almost draining my cup in the process.
Oh God, Iris.
Common decency said that I had to go over and say hello, but I was not in the mood. Besides, how was I going to address her and Mac’s separation? I could play dumb—after all, I had been out of town for two weeks—but knowing me, my nerves would reveal themselves in some predictably ungraceful form, e.g., dropping my to-go cup on the floor, choking on an ice cube, or somehow managing to unscrew and upend the table’s saltshaker, which I had actually done before in similar predicaments. Twice. Naturally, at that moment, she looked up and saw me. She waved hesitantly and I returned the gesture.
Showtime.

“Hi, Iris,” I said a little too cheerily as I approached, in an attempt to mask my discomfort. She was as beautiful as ever, but beneath her eyes was the telltale gray of lack of sleep. And was that a pimple on her cheek? So she was human after all.

“Hi, Sarah.” She gazed up at me plaintively. “How was your trip?”

“Good, thanks. I—I went to help my best friend recuperate from surgery. She had a hysterectomy.” Why, why had I just told her that? Me and my stupid mouth.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Josh mentioned that you were going to help a friend, but I wasn’t clear on the details.”

I nodded, unsure of how to see my way out of the awkward fog I had created. “How are you doing?”

“Eh.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been better.”

“Josh told me about you and Mac. I’m so sorry, Iris. Can I sit?”

“Of course! Sorry not to have offered sooner. My head is all over the place lately.” She removed her bag from the other chair. “Here. And thanks. I’m still in a bit of a state of shock about the whole thing.”

I nodded. “Please don’t feel like you have to open up to me about anything. I just, you know, didn’t want to avoid the elephant in the room.” I rocked my ice-filled cup back and forth on the tabletop. “And wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, I’m fine to talk about it. I could use an ear, actually. I don’t have a lot of girlfriends in this town. Or anywhere, for that matter. Mac has pretty much been my sole sounding board for fifteen years.” She sighed. “Which I’m regretting now, obviously.”

“What happened? I know this sounds cliché, but you guys seemed so happy.”

“We were, for the most part. Something happened.”

I raised my eyebrows. Who would cheat on Iris? Or did Iris cheat on Mac? The pickings around here seemed slim on both ends considering their presumed standards.

“Sarah, I’m pregnant.”

“Shut up. I thought you said—”

“Yes, I did. Neither of us thought we wanted kids. It was an understood agreement, just like I so self-righteously told you.” She laughed curtly. “I can only see the self-righteousness now that I’m on the other side, mind you.”

“But how?”

“Do you know that antibiotics can cancel out birth control?”

“You know what, I do, actually.”

“How did you know that? I mean, I consider myself a fairly informed woman, and I had no idea.”

“If I tell you how I know, do you promise not to judge me?”

“I promise.”


Teen Mom.

“What’s
Teen Mom
?”

“It’s a ridiculous show on MTV that follows the lives of these teen moms. One of them got pregnant the same way you did.”

“Wonderful. I’m in great company.” She laughed again, this time a little more authentically. “I guess there is something redeemable about the show though, if you actually learned something.”

“That’s what I say to Josh every time he catches me watching it.” I laughed too. “Although it’s hard to be taken seriously.”

She smiled. “Thanks for that, Sarah. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. Anyway, I had this horrible sinus infection, which led to the antibiotic prescription, which led to this.” She put her hand on her stomach. “We were both shocked, obviously, but Mac was actually outraged. Saying we should sue the doctor and ranting like a caged tiger.”

“Wow. That must have been really stressful.”

“It was. I was shocked and worried too, but when Mac suggested that I terminate the pregnancy, I just couldn’t do it. It seemed so selfish of me, when so many women can’t even have children to begin with. Like your friend in New York.” She sighed. “I deliberated over it for days, with Mac breathing down my neck all the while, and finally, I told him that I wouldn’t. That I was going to have the baby with or without him.”

“Whoa.”

“So now I’m without him.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Yeah, me either. It’s been an eye-opening couple of weeks, let me tell you. I mean, had you asked me a few months ago what I would have done should I get pregnant, I wouldn’t even have courted the possibility of being pregnant in the first place. I guess circumstance changes everything.”

“Everything. So where are you living? What happens now?”

“I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t holding out hope that Mac will come around. I know that he loves me, it’s just the ‘us’ bit I’m not certain about. For now, I’m still in the house and he’s in an apartment close to the hospital.”

“Are you still talking?”

“Yes. Although it’s awkward. If he doesn’t come around, of course, there’s the whole question of financial support. It is his child, even if it wasn’t part of the grand plan.”

“Are you feeling okay? Physically, I mean?”

“I’m okay. I’ve had some nausea, but nothing too awful. I’m living on a steady stream of crackers and Sour Patch Kids.”

“Sour Patch Kids?”

“Oh yeah, they really cut the nausea. Something about the sourness. Just for future reference.”

On cue, I tipped my cup over, sending its top and an avalanche of ice cubes across the table. “I am such a klutz! It never fails. Sorry.” I pulled some napkins from the dispenser and attempted to sop up the mess.

“No worries. I better get used to messes, right? No more white jeans for me.”

“You do wear the hell out of white jeans.” I held the cup under the rim of the table with one hand and pushed the ice back into it with the other.

“Thanks.”

“Iris?”

“Yes?”

“I’m pregnant too.” I hadn’t planned on telling her, but it felt right to share my news. As sad as her situation was, there was something infinitely more likable about her in this vulnerable position. Her hands flew to her mouth in surprise.

“No!”

“Yep.” I laughed nervously.

“This is fantastic news! Congratulations!”

“Thanks. It’s still really new and hush-hush, but I figured since you were sharing, I would too. Plus, you know, if you want to, we can commiserate about stuff.”

“Sarah, I would love it,” she gushed as her cheeks flushed peach with excitement. Whose cheeks flushed peach? “I can’t tell you how giddy it makes me feel to think that I could, that we could, lean on each other for support throughout this process.”

“I’d like it too. The whole thing has been quite a roller coaster for me thus far. Not like your roller coaster, granted, but you know, lots of twists and turns.”

“Hence the analogy,” Iris teased.

“Right. Thanks.”

“You know, I’ve been going to these amazing prenatal yoga classes, maybe—”

“Nah, not for me.”

Iris nodded. “Got it.”

“Maybe we could go walking together, though? Early mornings before work?”

“I’d love that.” We smiled, content in the knowledge that we were newfound allies. “Well, I better get going. Josh has your number, right?”

“Yes, and my e-mail.” She gazed at me wistfully. “Have a nice night.”

“You too. And I really am sorry about Mac. I hope things work out.”

“Thanks, Sarah. Me too. Going through this alone isn’t exactly preferable.” I reached over and squeezed her shoulder because I didn’t know what else to do. Without Josh’s support, I would have been a wreck. I turned to go but stopped in my tracks.

“Hey, do you want to come over for dinner?” I turned around and asked. “Josh is making macaroni and cheese.”

“No way.” She beamed at me.

“Yep, and not the box kind either.”

“The kind with a bread-crumb top?”

“Yep.”

“I’d love to. Are you sure I’m not imposing?”

“Not at all. Just come over when you’re finished here. Do you remember where we live?”

“I do.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“Thanks, Sarah. See you soon.”

As I drove away slightly dazed, I thought about what had just transpired. Never in a million years would I have expected to be inviting Iris over for dinner and baby talk, but I guessed stranger things had happened. As much as it was a surprise, there also seemed to be something slightly fated about our intertwined destinies. Neither of us was the baby-crazy type, and yet here we were.

Mona and I had become friends in much the same way, actually. On paper, we had nothing in common. She was fresh out of Princeton and the impossibly sophisticated daughter of globe-trotting parents, while I was head-to-toe New Jersey and the scrappy product of an even scrappier single mom. We’d been introduced by a mutual friend—the woman who shared my cubicle wall, to be exact—because she knew that both of us were desperate to vacate our current Craigslist-roommate apartments. Voilà, best friends. Maybe that was the key to everlasting friendships—a humbling dose of intimidation at the outset. After all, Kate and I were now much more than sisters-in-law. We were friends as well.

I was probably getting ahead of myself. There was always the possibility that Iris really did suck as much as I had first surmised, but something in me doubted it. Talking with her tonight, I had gotten a glimpse of the real her, without the shiny façade, and I liked what I saw.

I pulled into the driveway and as I went to pull the key out of the ignition, I realized something. Something huge. Something I never thought I’d have the pleasure of realizing. I had driven home. No nerves, no chattering teeth, no sternum glued to the steering wheel. Just me, driving a car. Getting from Point A to Point B without so much as a second thought.

A knock on my window made me jump. Josh stood on the other side, wearing the apron that I had received as a wedding gift and never worn.
MRS. SIMON
, it read in white letters across his chest. He smiled at me.

“Don’t you look pleased with yourself,” he said before giving me a peck on the lips.

“You know what?” I turned the car off and opened the door.

“What?” He took my hand to help me out.

“I am.”

BOOK: Driving Lessons: A Novel
7.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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