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I fell asleep with my anger fading, happiness and excitement taking their place. I would make Laura understand. I would make everyone understand. It would take time, but they would all have to deal with it. Because having been through hell and back, this was my time to do what I wanted. I was having a baby! Creating a life! And yes, maybe the circumstances and the dad weren’t ideal, but having watched the pain of my child missing her dead father, I was perfectly in tune with death and loss. I was not going to apologize or back down, or even make excuses for giving the joy of life.
Thankfully, the next morning, when Isabelle and I and my mom woke up, Laura was already gone. She had an early surgery at the hospital. Only my sister would go to a party and stay out late, knowing she had to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work. I felt beyond guilty thinking about this, because I knew Laura went to the party for me. And this morning, I was happy to have her out of the picture.
I was able to hold my mother off and not get into detail about my fight with Laura, but she did show me a note Laura left me that read, “Emmie, I’m sorry about last night. I just want you to have a good life and I’m worried about you. Everything I say, I say because I love you. L.”
“What does she mean she wants you to have a good life?” asked my mother while pouring
Frosted Flakes
into Izzie’s bowl.
Pouring the milk, I answered, “Mom, it’s complicated. I’ll tell you all about it.” I motioned to my daughter, ever so grateful that I could use her as the excuse not to share my secret. I finished, “You know…after 9:00, when gymnastics starts.” I looked at Izzie, who was watching
Big Time Rush
and not listening to us. My adorable little girl, who had no clue that her life was about to erupt (again). The guilt was killing me.
“Fine,” said my mother, “I’ll wait here.”
I actually had no intention of telling my mother anything yet, but I figured I could drop Izzie off and then call her from my cell and tell her I’d talk to her later, that I had some errands to run. What a weasel I was. Nonetheless, I wasn’t ready to face Helene with the news of her third grandchild.
Then, low and behold, as luck would have it, my dad called shortly after this conversation and asked her to go out for breakfast with him. So my mother left before us.
I dropped off Isabelle and headed home. There were so many things I could do to preoccupy myself till it was time to pick her up. I could work out or run errands. Or, I could make salsa, or work in my garden. But by the time I pulled into my driveway, I knew exactly how I wanted to spend my morning.
I quickly changed into my bathing suit, grabbed a towel, threw some sunscreen and a bottle of water into a beach bag, and got back into the car. And then I headed east. I lived twenty minutes away from the beach, and could honestly count on one hand the number of times I’d taken advantage of that in seven years. Today, with the morning to myself and so much on my mind, I had a strong urge to sit on the sand and look out over Lake Michigan for the next couple hours.
The second I reached the beach, I took off my flip-flops and walked onto the sand. It was the best feeling the in world. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. I looked at the glistening water and then I looked up at the sky. It was all blue, with one little puffy cloud off to the side. And it was at this moment, I realized how small I was, and how small my problems were. Looking at the big sky and the massive body of water put everything into perspective. I smiled, took a deep breath and a big exhale. And then, the weirdest thing happened. I looked down and noticed an iphone lying in the sand.
“Whoever just dropped their iphone is majorly cutting into my beach time,” I said to myself as I walked up to the shelter where some lifeguards were sitting and chatting.
“Hi,” I said, feeling like I was interrupting some teen-age chit chat.
“Hey, what’s up?” said a friendly guy who reminded me of one of the Jonas Brothers.
I handed him the phone. “I just found this in the sand.”
“Okay, thanks,” he said.
I smiled, turned around, and literally bumped into someone, who turned out to be Luke.
“Emma!” he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.
I giggled, “Oh my God! Luke, hi!”
“What are you doing here?”
“I just decided to come here. You?”
He laughed. “Same thing! I swear to God. Are you here by yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too! I woke up this morning and it was a gorgeous day, so I decided to blow off work and go to the beach. I’ve seriously never done that before. The boys are on a field trip with camp, so here I am. I can’t believe you’re here!”
I was smiling so wide my cheeks were hurting. “I can’t either!”
“Actually, I just lost my iphone,” he said.
“Is this it?” asked Nick Jonas, holding up the phone.
Luke examined the phone. “Yeah! Thanks, man.”
“She found it,” said the lifeguard, motioning to me.
Luke gave me a huge smile. “Really?”
I nodded.
“Unreal! So, would you like to sit together?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Sure.”
Luke then did something that stopped my heart. He took my hand. I could have sworn I heard one of the lifeguards say, “Aw…”
Luke and I walked about 30 feet to the spot where he had his towel, and the entire way, all I kept thinking about was how much I loved Luke’s hand in mine.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I put my bag down and spread out my towel next to his.
“I really can’t believe this,” he said, sitting down, “It’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Great, huh?”
I didn’t answer Luke. Instead, I asked, “So…did you have fun last night?”
“Yeah, good party. You? Who were you with?”
“My sister. Who were
you
with?”
“Patty Rubenstein, a girl I went to high-school with. She just got divorced.”
“Are you guys dating?”
“Um…not really.”
“You either are or you’re not.”
“Now who’s being territorial?” he flirted.
He was right. I was. But how could I not be? Here I sat, feeling that familiar feeling you get when you’re on a date with someone you really like, yet in my belly I was carrying the child of another man. All I could do was smile bashfully and say, “Touché. If you like her, I’m happy for you.”
“Look, I shouldn’t have said not really. I should have said no. Patty and I are friends. We’ve known each other for thirty years. We reconnected through facebook, and only because we’re both single. We’re just friends, I promise.”
“Patty thinks you’re more.”
Luke smiled, “Maybe she does, but trust me, we’re not.”
“Because you don’t date.”
“Right. Because I don’t date.”
“Still not ready to talk about it?”
Luke shook his head.
I smiled, “Boy, when it comes to bottling things up, you have me beat, which is pretty impressive.”
“It’s just…really complicated. Soon. I promise.”
I smiled at him. “Okay.”
“So, how about
you?
How’s the young guy? Are you still seeing him?”
“Yes. I’m actually having his baby,” was the honest answer, but I certainly wasn’t going to say that. So, instead I answered with an awkward smile, “Good. Really good.”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed by it. I think it’s great.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Is he still treating you nicely? I’m just making sure. I’m protecting you.
Not
being territorial.”
“Well, thank you,” I said politely, “Yes, he’s treating me just fine.”
“How does it feel being in a relationship? Do you like it?”
I turned my head to the side to look at Luke, who was doing the same to look at me. It was so odd. I could have been lying next to Laura and talking like this, and I would have felt no more comfortable with my sister than I did at this moment. “Yeah,” I smiled, “I do like it. I don’t really think I’m in a long-term relationship, but it’s really okay.” At that moment I was thinking, “Then why the
hell
are you having his baby?”
“I agree. I’d be worried about you if the first guy you got involved with after your husband was someone serious. What you’re doing is good. It’s healthy.”
I was dying to add, with sarcasm, “Healthy’s for sure. I’ve created a human being.”
“So, is the guy totally hot? I mean, if I saw him, would I be intimidated?”
I was still looking at Luke when I answered, “He’s pretty hot, but…”
“But what?”
I gave Luke a big grin. “He doesn’t have your eyes.”
Luke’s instant wide grin confirmed that he was digging me hugely. And that made me happy.
We lounged with our faces in the sun and talked for the next hour and a half. Not nonstop, though. Much of the time was spent soaking up the sun and relaxing, to the point where I thought Luke had fallen asleep a couple times. It was comfortable, very natural, and I felt at ease.
We did go for a swim in Lake Michigan, and at one point, Luke found a football that didn’t seem to belong to anyone, so we played catch in the water. I thought back to the last time I’d swam in a large body of water with a man. It was on my honeymoon in Jamaica, seven years earlier. And as I recalled the trip, I suddenly began to feel guiltier than O.J. because right now, here on Lake Michigan, with a man I barely knew, I was having more fun than I did all those years ago. Something about being here with Luke made me ask myself a question that caused me to hate my own guts. “Why couldn’t I have been on my honeymoon with
this
guy?” I wondered. I answered myself, “Because then you wouldn’t have Izzie, you unappreciative, horrible, and I might add PREGNANT person.”
God, I hated myself for having these thoughts. But I couldn’t deny the truth any longer. No, I didn’t want Sam to die, but it was time to be honest and admit that the foundation for our marriage and our relationship in general wasn’t very strong. There wasn’t a lot of substance to it. If I could feel like this, so at ease and so natural with a man I barely knew, what feelings of significance had I ever really had with Sam? It was sad, but very realistic.
A couple hours later, when Luke and I parted ways in the parking lot, I felt like the natural thing to do would have been for him to kiss me. On the lips. He didn’t, though, and I hoped that the look of disappointment I knew I had on my face wasn’t too obvious. Then again, I wasn’t allowed to kiss Luke. I had Preston. And his baby! I was living two separate lives now. Actually, three.
One life was that of a middle-aged sexpot, cougaring like nobody’s business. The next, an infatuated groupie, trying to grasp a little bit of a relationship with a guy who was carrying some baggage, but who seemed otherwise normal, aside from the secret he was keeping that I wanted so much to know about. And my third life, the life of a mother with a sweet, innocent child, both of us still grieving my dead husband. Only now, in addition to that pain, I was beginning to acknowledge that the man I’d vowed to spend the rest of my life with probably would have ended up being my ex-husband had he survived his car crash.
I was three people. And I didn’t care for any of them at this juncture. But I did care for Izzie. And I was completely obsessed with Preston. As for Luke, all I can say is, I was falling. Hard.
.
“M
ommy, can I water the garden?” Izzie asked me as we were pulling into the driveway.
“Sure, that would be a huge help,” I smiled, “But jump right in the shower when you’re done.” Coming from Gold Medal, Izzie was surely in need of some hot water and soap.
“Ok, Mommy,” she said, leaping out of the car and heading to the back patio.
I pulled into the garage and headed into the house, feeling relaxed and happy. I had just spent a wonderful morning on the lake with a very special man. My insides felt all warm and fuzzy, my thoughts of Luke and our new friendship (or whatever it was) unable to leave me.
Suddenly I heard Izzie cry, “Mommy! Mommy!”
“What is it?!” I shouted, racing to the back patio door to see what her urgency was.
“Look!” she exclaimed.
I opened the door and there stood my daughter, holding a dozen pink roses that were wrapped in cellophane.
“These were on the steps,” she said, “Aren’t they pretty?”
I was stunned. “Yes, they are.”
“Are they for us?” she asked.
“Let me see.” I took off the little white envelope that was taped to the cellophane and opened it. “For my babies. Love, Preston,” it read. My heart pounded.
“What does it say?”
I looked at my daughter and flat out lied. “It says thank you,” I smiled.
“Can I read it?” she asked, coming up to me, “I can read now, you know.”
Instinctively, I folded the card, put it in my hand, and made a fist to hide it. “I know you can read, sweetheart,” but it just says thank you. I helped a friend with something and she wanted to thank me so she dropped off flowers.”
“What did you help her with?”
“Uh…I made some salsa for her.”
“Why?”
“Why does it matter?” I asked with a nervous giggle.
“Mommy?”
“Yeah?”