I'm Your Man (13 page)

After Gretchen and I stopped laughing, I said, “You'll have other chances to drink. I won't be home for a few days. Insemination isn't like sex. It doesn't work over the phone.”

“Neither does sex. I mean, I've heard. Good night, Blaine.”

I intended to leave early for the hospital the next morning, since Adam's office was in his home and I wanted to stay out of everyone's way. But after my shower, I found Jeremy in my room. He'd made my bed and was sitting in the middle of it, his chin on his knees, appearing lost in thought.

“This can't be good,” I said. “Did you not assure me last night that you were done with advice and wisdom on the topic of Daniel?”

“That was before Adam told me the plan you and Gretchen have hatched.”

“Good choice of words,” I commented.

“It was hard for me to give up my dreams of a life with Daniel,” Jeremy said. “I was so frustrated with him, and I made mistakes I couldn't undo.”

“Ancient history,” I said.

“Would you let me talk? I know you stonewalled Sheila and Adam on the subject of Daniel. Well, I'm not intimidated by you. If you don't value your friendship with me enough to hear me out, then I obviously don't have much to lose by saying what I have to say anyway.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

“I started making peace with my mistakes after I saw how happy Daniel was with you. He'd moved on. It was obvious I had no choice but to do likewise. I know you got tired of me while Daniel and I were reinventing our relationship. But the thing is, though Daniel can be a frustrating lover, nobody could ever ask for a better friend. I can't imagine my life without him in it.”

“So you're telling me that one day Daniel and I will be friends?”

“I'm telling you his friendships are forged in something that's rare and irreplaceable. He doesn't turn his back on the people he loves. Even the ones who piss you off, like Martin. Hell, Blaine, you know how little Martin and I like each other. But what I do like is that Daniel has never failed his friend. Even now, when Martin is part of something that's hurting you, and your relationship with Daniel, do you really expect Daniel to piss away years of friendship because you didn't get your way? Get over it. If you don't appreciate his loyalty, then you don't deserve him.”

“You're entitled to your opinion. But you know what they say. Nobody but the two people involved really know what's going on in a relationship. Maybe you'll have to live with the fact that you don't know everything,” I said, starting to get annoyed with him.

“That's fine, and you don't owe me any explanations. But there's another relationship at stake here. One that's older than Daniel's and Martin's, older than Daniel's and mine. His friendship with Gretchen. If you understand Daniel at all, and the emotions he invests in his friends, then I can't help but wonder if this isn't a great way to strike back at him. That's just wrong, Blaine.”

“First of all, I didn't go to Gretchen with this plan. She came to me. I'm sure she took everything you're saying into consideration before she did. Since she's okay with it, maybe she has insight into Daniel that you don't. I understand why Adam told you. But now you need to stay out of it. It's up to Gretchen to talk to Daniel about any decision that she and I make.”

“If you decide to go through with it, will she talk to him
before
you do it? And if she won't, will you? Please?”

“I don't know what Gretchen will do. But as for me, no. Daniel made it clear that he expects me to go on with my life, just as he intends to, with the understanding that we're done. I don't know what the hell Daniel's telling all of you, but let me set you straight on something. I didn't just have a big temper tantrum and walk out on him. He wasn't begging me to reconsider. He hasn't picked up the fucking phone and said, ‘This is wrong. Let's work it out.' The decisions I make about my life and my future don't have to take Daniel into consideration anymore. And vice versa. As for Gretchen, she's a big girl. She can negotiate her relationship with Daniel on her own terms. I value my friendship with Adam. I know you're part of the package, and I have no problem with that. But stay out of my personal life, because it no longer involves your friend Daniel. I'm sure he would agree with me.”

“Okay, this needs to stop,” Adam said from the doorway. “Everybody's caught in the middle of something, because we're all too connected. It's like everybody's broken up, and it hurts. My advice, for what it's worth, is that we focus on those things that pull us together. Like Sheila and Josh's wedding. Or supporting Blaine through a family crisis. And respecting the boundaries and loyalties of our various relationships, whether those are with Daniel, Gretchen, Sheila, Martin, Blythe, or whoever. Blaine, you are always welcome in our home. And it is
our
home, not the place where Jeremy happens to live with me. He's not a piece of furniture you have to tolerate just because it's my room and I put it there.”

“I'm sorry if I gave that impression,” I said.

“Jeremy, Blaine is my friend and our guest. He already made it clear that he doesn't want to talk about Daniel. If you force it—”

“I've said what I had to say,” Jeremy interrupted. He left the bed and tried to go through the door, but Adam caught him and put his arms around him.

“Don't break your heart over this,” Adam said gently. “It's all going to work out, one way or another.”

Jeremy's brown eyes were brilliant with tears when he looked at me over Adam's shoulder.

“I'm sorry, Jeremy,” I said. “I know your intentions are good. It's just too raw right now, okay?”

“I'm sorry, too,” he said.

“I need to get to the hospital. Dinner tonight?”

“Yes. You can take my truck,” Adam said.

My mother was still out of it, but when I went to the hospital the day after that, mere hours before I was scheduled to fly back to New York, they'd moved her from cardiac intensive care into her own room. They'd also assured us that the damage to the valve was less serious than they'd thought. The doctors felt she would make a full and quick recovery.

My father and brothers were not at the hospital, and although I was glad to see my mother in her own room, she still looked small and frail to me. When I walked in, she turned her head slowly toward the door. She lifted her hand in my direction, seeming to use all her strength to do so. Her eyes were at half-mast as she weakly asked, “Is it Blaine?”

“Yes, Mom. It's me. How you doing?”

“Not too well. I guess they've told you that it won't be long now.”

I chose to ignore her ominous prophecy and changed the subject, saying, “Wow, look at all the flowers. Makes you know how many friends you have, doesn't it?”

“I don't even know some of these people,” she said, sounding more normal after she realized I wasn't playing Race to Death with her. “Who is Adam Wilson?”

“Dad knows him. His company, Adam AdVentures, has contracted Dunhill Electrical on some jobs. Adam's a friend of mine. In fact, I'm staying at his house while I'm in town.”

“I see.” She gestured toward an arrangement by the window and said, “Gwendy and the Stephenson family? Who is that?”

I felt my throat constrict. It would be so nice to have a mother like Adam's. To drop my head on the bed next to her and bawl over Daniel, knowing she'd smooth my hair down and tell me everything was going to be okay.

“It's Daniel Stephenson's family. Daniel is a close friend of Sheila's and mine. He lives in New York, too. Maybe Sheila told him about your surgery. Gwendy's his sister.”

“It's nice of them to send flowers. The Meyers sent the basket by the door. They signed Sheila's and Jake's names, too. Jake was by this morning, right after they moved me into my room. That large arrangement in the corner. Will you give me the card?” When I did, she opened the envelope and handed me the card.

I might have known that my mother, even after heart surgery, would be eager to fire the first salvo in our ongoing war about my divorce.

“Nice of her,” I said, refusing to fight back.

“She's always had the most impeccable manners,” my mother said. “Could you find some paper and start making a list for me? I'll be writing a lot of thank-you notes if I get out of here.”

“When you get out of here,” I corrected.

“There are always so many complications that can set in after surgery,” she said. “I'm sure they moved me out of intensive care too soon. I suppose I should be grateful they aren't sending me home. With health plans being what they are, no one is allowed to recover properly anymore. It's amazing that they don't drive you straight from the hospital to the mortuary. These days, after a woman has a baby, they send her home the next day!”

I indulged myself in a fantasy of bringing a new grandchild to Eau Claire.

I knew I had to get back to New York before I lost my mind.

 

I saw proof of the old maxim that there's a first time for everything when Violet's mouth dropped open in shock after I finished a Monday morning meeting with a final request.

“Blaine—”

“I don't care how you do it,” I said. “But after Wednesday, I have to be out of the office for a week.”

“You just took a trip to Wisconsin!” She leaned over and tapped one perfectly manicured nail on my computer screen. “Look at your calendar. You have meetings with Gavin Lewis, an apartment locator, the real estate people for Lillith Allure, Lillith herself, Frank, and a whole set of West Coast distributors who are expecting to be wined and dined with Sheila on Friday. Blaine, do you hate me? Did I give Dexter the wrong cat food? Was your coffee too cold? Your office too hot? Why are you doing this to me?”

“As far as I'm concerned, you can make the decision about Gavin. Make sure he's not allergic to cats. Find out what I should be paying, draw up some kind of privacy agreement for him to sign, and hire him. The apartment locator can wait until I get back, unless you want to meet with him. You know what I'm looking for. In fact, you pretty much manage the Allure account in spite of me. You could probably take the meetings with the real estate people, Lillith, and Frank. As for the West Coast—”

“Is that it? I'm too efficient? You feel useless? Blaine, nobody reschedules Lillith Parker. You know how meticulously her people chart her every move.” She stopped, as if struck by a thought. She came around my desk and toggled the screen from my calendar to a search engine, her fingers flying over the keys. I sat back, waiting, as her eyes darted over one site after another. Finally she breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Solar flares.”

“Excuse me?”

“Over the next few days, we're having solar flares.”

“Was it something we ate?”

“Some people think solar flares can affect—oh, you don't care, do you? It's a good thing for you that Barbara owes me one.”

“Barbara?”

“Lillith's assistant,” she said impatiently. “Don't ask questions. You're better off not knowing.”

“You two conspire against us all the time, don't you?” I asked suspiciously.

“Blaine, if I pull this off and reschedule everything for next week, and you flake on me again—”

“Remind me, which one of us is the boss here?”

“Can
you
put off Lillith and the West Coast?” she asked.

“All right. Thank you for working miracles for me.”

“Where are you going? Where can I reach you?” she asked, picking up her ever-present PalmPilot.

“You can reach my cell phone. And I'll take a laptop with me to check e-mail.”

She left my office with an air of surrender.

Surrender: the new fragrance from Lillith Allure Cosmetics,
I thought and laughed, then dialed Gretchen's office number.

“I have Thursday free,” I said, knowing better than to waste her time with small talk.

“Great. Our first appointment is at two. Then we go back at two on Friday.”

“Isn't it fortunate for us that you ovulate in time to take a four-day weekend, since you're supposed to stay in bed?”

“In bed, yes. But my god, you wouldn't believe the amount of work I have to do. Why are we doing this during tax season?”

“It's worse than you know,” I said. “I don't want to hear any objections. Farm out your work however you have to. From Thursday until next Wednesday, you won't be available.”

She laughed and asked, “Are you crazy? I can work from home over the weekend, but Monday morning—”

“Gretchen, I'm putting my foot down. Thursday night, I'm staying at your place with you. Friday evening, I'm taking you to Happy Hollow. We'll be back Wednesday night.”

“There's no way I can leave now!”

“Remember what you said? That you've gotten to a point in your life where you have time for motherhood? Motherhood begins at two o'clock on Thursday. If you get yourself exhausted and stressed out trying to save financial empires, we may have to go through this again in a month, which will be April. You know you'll be up to your neck in tax laws and receipts scribbled on napkins by then. This is our only window of ovulation opportunity until May. Besides, if you think you're busy now, wait until the baby comes. From what little I know of kids, they'll change your definition of busy.”