HAPPILY EVER BEFORE (11 page)

Normal
wasn’t feeling so normal anymore. Change was happening so quickly that Grace barely had time to catch her breath. She was now four months and two weeks pregnant, the soon to be owner of a swank apartment on
S. Michigan Drive
, and dating a really great guy. So, of course, Grace was freaked out. And, when she was freaked out she was usually in the
NG’s
office. 

“Grace, don’t you think it’s a little late for that?”

Grace stared at NG. “I’m pregnant, I’m in this, I’m doing this, but I’m also freaking out--aren’t I allowed to freak out?”

Dr.
Yael
smiled. “Of course; every expectant mom freaks out at least ten times a day.”

“It’s just…I forgot that all this stuff happens.  I mean, I knew there was morning sickness, swollen feet, yucky discharges, but then… oh my God, I’m having my sister’s baby!” Grace, in the midst of a panic attack, put her head between her legs.

Dr.
Yael
poured Grace a glass of water; she even put in a slice of lemon that she had cut up while eating her lunch. “When you freak out, you freak out.”

Grace bellowed from between her legs. “You got a problem with that?” Dr.
Yael
handed her a glass of water. “Unless there’s vodka in it, it’s so not what I need right now.”

In a very soothing voice Dr.
Yael
asked, “what do you need right now?”

Grace got up and started pacing. “I don’t know. Maybe to not be pregnant with my sister’s baby, to finally stop vomiting, and not having ordinary every day smells--smells that I used to love like peanut butter and French roast coffee--turn on me like a rabid dog. It would also be helpful if my brother-in-law didn’t show up every morning to monitor my progress and give me inappropriate gifts like support bras and panty liners and maybe, just maybe, if my sister didn’t call me every ten minutes to see if the baby and I, a baby that’s like not bigger than a
frickin
’ zygote yet, had any intense bonding moments. And, I’d really love it if the guy I was dating was much less concerned about whether or not I was eating right for the baby and much more concerned with having sex that didn’t avoid the one area sex shouldn’t avoid! Oh, I almost forgot, and if the guy who ripped out my heart and ripped off my bank account would stop calling all the time-- that would be just swell!” Exhausted, Grace sat down. She looked at the NG, who was rapidly writing on a pad and suddenly felt foolish. “Uh, are you having me committed?”

Dr.
Yael
smiled, “I’m writing you a prescription.”

“I can’t take anything.”

“A half a glass of wine, a pregnancy yoga class, and a weekly massage.
These should help keep you, well, not entirely stress free, but a little less stressed.”

Grace sighed. “Uh, can I have that wine now?”

Dr.
Yael
laughed. “We don’t keep alcohol on the premises.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Grace suddenly had a need to lie down. “What should I do about Henry?” she asked as she stretched out on the couch.

“How bad has it gotten?”

“Well, the inappropriate gifts have stopped, but for the past two weeks he’s been at my door at nine every morning with breakfast and healthy treats. Today, he came by with Reid, the personal trainer he hired for me.”

“Have you spoken to Clair about it?”

Grace closed her eyes. “I didn’t want to cause any problems and, well, I also liked the attention. Not in a, you know, bad way, but just well…man I’m just whacked aren’t I? One second I’m ranting and raving that I want my brother-in-law to leave me alone and the next I’m saying that I like the attention ‘cause I never had a guy take care of me before. Ray was so not the caretaker type and with Jack, we’ve only been dating a few months and there’s no need for him to take care of me. It’s not his kid.”

“Are you disappointed about that?” asked Dr.
Yael
.

“No, I mean yes; I mean, what if I’m falling in love with him?”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Last time it was a horror show. I’m hormonal. What if it’s just my hormones and I really don’t love him, but I’m pregnant and alone, not really, but you know what I mean and I’m just convincing myself that I love him.”

She stared at her. “So, you think you’re in love?”

Grace popped up off the couch. “Oh God, not love,
oooh
, no! I’m in intense like. You know, where you want to see him all the time and you get excited when you hear his voice and stuff. Not love,
sooo
not love!”

“Does he know? Does he feel the same way?”

“Well, he keeps calling and we keep dating and he told me not to break his heart, but really how am I supposed to know? I don’t read minds. Maybe he’s just some weird guy who likes to date single pregnant women.”

“Or, maybe you’re in a genuine adult relationship with a good guy who is falling in love with you.”

“Oh, well, when you put it like that, I really need a drink!”

She laughed again.
“How does Ray figure into all this?
Do you have any residual feelings for him? Is that maybe why you can’t tell if you’re falling in love with Jack or just hormonal?”

“I feel guilty. I know, right? He breaks my heart, cleans out my bank account, and I feel like I let him down. What’s with that?”

 “After your dad died, how many of your significant relationships were based on saving the guy you were with?”

Grace spat out, “every single fucking one! Am I textbook case or what?”

“We’re all textbook cases Grace.” She took in Grace’s pained expression. “You’re not the reason he died, forgive yourself.”

“Yeah?
And how do I do that? Eat a box of popsicles and be done with it?”

“Maybe your unwillingness to let yourself fall in love with Jack has something to do with the fact that he doesn’t need to be saved.” She said as she handed Grace her prescriptions and walked her to the door. 

“Couldn’t I just deal with the super of my building and the guy directly above me who plays the piano at
three a.m.
? Cause he’s not very good. Last night he attempted Mozart’s “Prague Symphony Number Thirty Eight” and, well, I’m no music critic, but I’ve heard a cat in heat who sounded better than that.”

Clair didn’t feel normal at all and her hormones were raging because she had gotten her period again, which was one huge slap in the face. As if her period, if periods could speak, was saying “you’re half a woman, you can’t have a kid,
you’re
defective.” Once the novelty of the pregnancy wore off, Clair had to face the harsh realities and because of this she was pissed at everybody and everything. It was as if her inhospitable womb decided to encroach on every area of her life and she had no idea how to keep it at bay. Clair sat with a bowl of uneaten Raisin Bran and a glass of orange juice. She kept staring at the Visa statement. With just one glance she felt like defective merchandise--a jilted wife and an irrational shrew. She tried to calm herself down, but she couldn’t get there; that is until Henry walked into the kitchen. Then for reasons she had no insight into, an icy calm fell over her.  Poor, unsuspecting Henry kissed his wife, got himself a glass of orange juice, and sat down. When he did, Clair slid the statement over for his perusal. Henry, having no idea what he was getting into, looked it over.

“A support bra?”
Clair said through clenched teeth.
“Maternity panties?
A four hundred dollar oscillating fan?”

Henry, a bit clueless, grinned.
“It’s for the baby.”

Clair had an overwhelming urge to hit something and that something was Henry.
“For the baby?
Really?
Last time I checked the kid was residing inside my sister. Don’t you think a four hundred dollar oscillating fan is a bit extravagant for a kid who is still swimming in amniotic fluid? What are you doing, huh, Henry? What exactly are you doing?”

Henry finally connected the --oh shit I made my wife angry--dots and cleared his throat, “being helpful?”

“Helpful? Helpful is putting away the dishes and maybe vacuuming once in a while. Helpful is not lavishing expensive gifts on Grace like she’s some whore!”

“The fan was on sale. Doesn’t it say that on there? It was only a hundred and fifty dollars. I mean a four hundred dollar fan? Who in their right mind would buy that?” Henry realized he was entering into one of those irrational areas of married life with his not-pregnant-about-to-have-a-baby-of-a-wife. Nothing he could say was going to save his lily-white ass.

“…And the crib, the changing table, the Bose sound system for the nursery? Were those purchase prices wrong too?
A carousel?
A carousel?
What in God’s name are we going to do with that?”

Henry cleared his throat, “I thought we could put in the backyard?”

Sometimes Clair thought how in the hell could I possibly love a man as stupid as him? “Are we living in the same house? Have you seen our backyard?”

“I can return the carousel.”

“Oh, you will and you’ll return the state of the art diaper genie. Who needs a diaper genie that turns everything into mulch? Oh, and you’re returning the Bose sound system.” Clair was choking back tears. “And while you’re at it why don’t you return me?”

Henry stared at his wife. The despair in her eyes cut him deeply.
“Can’t.
You’re the right color, you’re definitely the right fit, and well, you don’t shrink when I wash you. Plus you’re made with that stain proof fabric I love.”

“Yeah, well I’m defective, detestable, and depressed.”

He let a small smile escape his lips. “Nice alliteration.”

“Do you love me?”

“I haven’t tried to return you have I?”

She sighed. “Are you in love with me? There’s a difference you know.”

“Since the moment you made that ridiculous request in Starbucks.”

“Then how can you not see that the support bra, the maternity panties, the fan, and the fucking swank apartment you parents are buying my sister, the Auntie Mommy of our child, would make me feel like a third class citizen?”

Henry was at a loss. “Huh? You told Grace to let my parents buy it for her.”

“Yes, Henry, but I didn’t know about the
Ugg
slippers or the sweater from the Gap. Is there a reason you didn’t tell me about any of this?”

“Well, honestly, because I freaked your sister out and I didn’t want to upset you. I didn’t want you to feel shitty.” Henry saw his wife’s bottom lip quiver and tried to get everything out in one breath. “I want to be part of the pregnancy too. You and Grace have all these weekend sleepovers planned. What about me? You’re not the only one who’s feeling the burn here. She’s your sister. You’ve known her your whole life. I’ve known her for like what, six years? We have no connection, no unspoken bond, and I want our child to know my voice. Seriously, Clair, what are our boundaries?”

Clair, who loved her schmuck of a husband even more at that moment then she ever thought possible, got up, and sat on his lap. “Maybe we should ask Grace?”

“How do we tell her, we need more? I’ve done the research childbirth isn’t pretty. Did you know that the baby’s head pushes against the bladder? And all this crap comes out of her?”

Clair kissed him. “We’ll figure it out. Just don’t stop telling me stuff, okay? And next time ask me before you run out and buy my sister panty-liners.”

“You got it.” Henry kissed her back.

Grace couldn’t take her job anymore. It was only eight and she was bored out of her mind. She didn’t care if she saved a life or not. Well, she’d rather save one than lose one, but as she fielded phone call after phone call of life threatening, not so life threatening, and dumb ass requests for help, she decided that maybe after two years she was done being a 911 Operator. Of course, that concerned Grace. It seemed she couldn’t find anything that she felt any excitement for other than sex and food. Maybe she was defective? Maybe she should just keep renting out her womb for cash? The pay was good, the benefits were okay, and if she could live with the morning sickness and the irrational mood swings, she could make a fortune.

“Hey, tubby.”

Grace turned to find her coworker, Matt, staring at her.
“Yeah?”

“You want to take your dinner break?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“What should I tell the short twitchy guy in the lobby?”

Grace’s heart jumped.
“Who?”

Matt smiled. “He says he’s here to take you to dinner.”

Grace sighed. “Little guy, pug Irish nose?”

“That’s him. Want me to take care of him for you?”

“Nah, thanks for the offer.” Grace walked down one flight of stairs to the lobby and peeked in. There was Ray leaning against the reception desk holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a suit. A suit she thought? He owns a suit? Grace steeled herself and entered the lobby. “Let me guess, you’re selling steak knives?” Ray handed her the flowers. “What’s the occasion? You rip off another unsuspecting girlfriend?”

He grinned. “I deserved that.”

“And so much more, but the sarcasm train stops here. I don’t want you visiting me at work Ray. I don’t want you waiting for me outside my apartment. I saw you the other night.”

“What’s with the boxes?
You moving
in with that big guy?”  

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.” Grace couldn’t believe she just lied.

Ray didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t like it one bit. “Why?”

She saw the pain in his eyes and felt guilty. “You screwed up your life Ray, not me. I was just the schmuck who
kept believing
in you, remember?” Grace walked outside, Ray followed her.

 “I remember and I know you, Gracie, you believe everyone deserves a second chance. I did my time. I got clean, got a good job.” Ray looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Grace felt bad. Her mom used to say she was the only one who could see the good in Ray. She sighed. “I gave you a second chance Ray. Hell, I gave you a fifth and sixth chance.”

He pulled out a packet of Sour Patch Kids and tossed a few into his mouth. “You want me gone? Then I’m gone!” Ray turned on his heel. Grace watched him go. An older woman walked toward her and Grace handed her the flowers. As she headed into the building, a wave of guilt hit her. Why she felt so guilty after everything he did made no sense. As Grace made her way back up the flight of stairs she stopped to rest. Wow, she thought, why am I so winded? She touched her stomach. Overwhelmed with emotion she sat on the stairs and wept. Her cell phone rang.

“Hello? Hey, mom. I’m not crying no I’m…” Before she knew it Grace was a sobbing, gulping, sniffling,
wet
faced, snot nosed mess. “Ray keeps showing up.  I told you that.  Yes, I did and I now I feel guilty. And, I’m tired, fat-- yes I am!   I know I’m not showing, but I’m fat.” Grace gasped for air and hiccupped, “I think I still love Ray, but what about Jack? And, and, and… my shoes don’t fit--uh, huh--and I had to wear my period underwear because I can’t fit in anything else. I’m having a baby and it’s not even mine!” Grace used the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt and blew her nose.
“Right now?
I’m sitting in the stairwell at work.”

Less than an hour later, Grace was sitting in her comfy clothes with a cup of soothing herbal tea and a box of Entenmann’s cookies on her mom’s couch. Her mother had rushed over to Grace’s office, scooped her up, and took her home. Diane watched as a now semi calm Grace dunked her cookie into her lukewarm tea and pulled a photo album out of her great grandma Higgins’ armoire. Diane made room on the couch next to her daughter. She sighed as she fingered the embossed letters on the cover of the album, then opened to a photo of herself fat and pregnant with Grace and smiled. “This is the awful truth. I’m seven months pregnant.”

Grace choked on her tea.
“Oh my God!
I’m going to look like that in three months!”

Diane laughed. “Well, every pregnancy is different, but there’s a strong chance you won’t be able to get off the couch without a forklift.”

Grace started to laugh. A belly rolling, tears streaming, laugh. “What the fuck am I doing with my life?” Diane pulled her daughter closer. As they spooned on the couch, she brushed some hair out of Grace’s eyes and kissed the top of her head. “That night after the emergency room incident, Ray showed. He gave me back the money he took, well I think he did, I still haven’t opened the envelope, and he said all the right the stuff, the stuff he should’ve said two years ago. Then he said he wanted me back and he kissed me. And tonight he was wearing a suit and had flowers and, well, it just seemed that he finally turned into the Ray I knew he could be.”

“And if he has?”

“Shouldn’t we see if we could make it work? He finally got his shit together.”

Diane knew what Ray had done to her daughter. She knew how long it took her little girl to recover from this particular hit and run. Yet, with all of that knowledge with every fiber of her being screaming at her to tell Grace to run, she knew she couldn’t.  She had to remain indifferent and not act on the huge wave of fear that was swirling through her body. “Sweetie, just because someone changes or tries to make you believe they changed doesn’t necessarily mean that they have changed or that the person they changed into is the right person for you.
And what about you?
Haven’t you changed?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s a mixture of--see I told you he was a great guy and he could accomplish all this and wow, he changed for me--and well, it’s like wishing for a pony every day and then the pony suddenly shows up.”

Diane pulled her arms tightly around her daughter. “Yes, but you have to feed the pony, clean up the pony shit, make sure the pony gets enough exercise, and deal with all sorts of pony like situations.”

Grace nuzzled into her mother’s body. “You don’t think people can change?”

“I don’t think you should get back into what was a notoriously bad relationship because of your ego. Sure, it’ll feel good to say, “I told you so” and right now you’re all pumped up and giddy at the thought of someone going to all that trouble to fix himself for you, but at the end of the day are those the right reasons to be in a relationship?” Grace yawned. Her whole emotional roller coaster of a day was finally catching up to her. “What about Jack?”

The mention of Jack always made her smile. “He’s great, really great.”

Diane caught Grace’s yawn and yawned herself. “Then why run to something that has never worked and let go of something that’s pretty damn great?”

Grace knew her mom was right. Her mom was always right. She was right about dying her hair cotton candy pink and she was right about becoming a dog walker. “I guess you’re right.” As Grace nodded off to sleep, Diane scooted closer to the inside of the couch and joined her.