The Ordinary Life of Emily P. Bates (2 page)

“Ha!” Shannon scoffed. “As if I knew anything about babies.”

“You’ll learn!”

“And so will you,” she said, getting up and pulling me to my feet. “Now come on. Since Finn couldn’t come I decided that we’re going to go shopping for school clothes today instead of hitting the junk shops. I ripped a hole
in my favorite tee while I was leading a hike at camp.
”

“Oh,” I said, suddenly wishing that Finn knew how to say “no” to his boss. It’s not that I don’t like shopping, but it’s just so frustrating. Shannon finds outfit after outfit, and every one of them suits her great. I, on the other hand, can never find anything that I like and that fits me well. Four times out of five, I come out of a store with nothing at all, and Shannon’s spent at least fifty dollars on yet another top or skirt that makes her look even more like a model. We lowered ourselves into my car and I started up the engine. A blast of hot air from the vents washed over us, smelling faintly of hot leather and engine grease. My nose scrunched up in disgust automatically. “I forgot that school was coming up.”

“Next week,” Shannon said, obviously excited. She was a people person to the core, and there never seemed to be enough people for her unless all seven hundred of us high schoolers were crammed into one building. I preferred the holidays, myself. “You’re not nervous, are you?” she asked, noting my queasy expression.

“Not really,” I said with a shrug, and it was true. Shannon, Finn, and I were all going into the eleventh grade, so it wasn’t as if I hadn’t had my fair share of first days. “It’s actually starting to feel kind of redundant, you know? Every hour we’d switch to another classroom that looks exactly the same as the one we’d just left, just to hear a new version of the tired first-day-of-class speech. No chewing gum. No talking without permission. Answer ‘here’ when I call your name.” I sighed. “You’d think that we got the message back in second grade.”

Shannon shrugged. “It just means that the first day, at least, will be ridiculously easy to get through.”

“Maybe for you.”

“Not just me,” Shannon contradicted. “I know Finn will get by just fine. He always does.”

“Just because he’s always got his nose in a book,” I reminded her. “He’s always too absorbed in someone else’s life to notice that the one he’s living is depressingly mediocre.”

“Hey,” Shannon said, offended.

“No offense,” I added. “We’re all living mediocre lives.”

“Well if we’re all mediocre, then I choose to believe that means we’re all exceptional. It’s all relative.” She began picking at her fingernails, her one vice.

“Maybe so,” I said, and then had a sudden thought. I pulled quickly into the right lane and turned down Oak Street without warning, flinging Shannon sideways in her seat.

“Where are we going?” she asked, gripping the door handle for dear life. “The outlet mall is on the other side of town.”

“I need to bug your brother at work,” I said.

“Why?”

“I just do.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled, her attention back on her nails. She and I both knew that Finn was a man of few words, and whatever it was I needed to talk to him about, it wouldn’t take long. “Oh, I heard that there’s a new guy in our grade.”

“Who?” I asked, not really interested.

“I don’t remember his name. That new family practice doctor in town, Dr. Cavanaugh I think, he has a son our age. Margo says he’s cute.”

“Margo
would
say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Margo’s just a little boy crazy, don’t you think?”

“No. She’s not at all.”

“But she’s always talking about who’s cute and who’s not. What’s
your
definition of boy crazy?”

“She’s just overcompensating,” Shannon shrugged. “She’s had this huge thing for Finn for as long as I can remember. I’m pretty sure that’s why she’s always hanging out with me.”

I looked up, shocked. “Really? Margo and Finn?” I glared at the steering wheel, searching for a reason for this to make sense and found none. I had never really thought about Finn having a girlfriend, mostly because he’d never shown any interest whatsoever in anyone at all. Where his sister was the social queen of St. John, Finn was just a bored spectator. “Really?”

“She’s not so bad, you know,” Shannon said. “She’s actually a lot of fun.”

“I know. I like Margo,” I said. “I’ve had several classes with her and she was my lab partner last year. I just never put two and two together, I suppose.”

“I dunno,” Shannon mused. “I kinda think they’d be pretty good together. Finn needs to get a life anyway. Why not Margo?”

“Oh please,” I said.

“You’re the one who said he was too wrapped up in his books to live his own life.

“Oh yeah.”

“Oh yeah,” Shannon mocked in a superior tone.

I pulled the car into the parallel parking space that was the closest to the library–about three blocks away. Great, now we’d have to walk in this insane heat. “You know, you’re probably right. Margo and Finnegan. It could work.” Why not?

“Margo thinks so.”

“What about Finn?”

“Finn’s in his own little world.” She jogged to catch up with me, breathing hard in the oppressive heat. “You know, this could be a fun experiment. You and I should contrive to get Finn to notice Margo.”

“Did you just use the word ‘contrive’ in a sentence?” I asked.

“Yes I did. And what do you think?”

“About the word ‘contrive’?”

“No, about the idea.”

I shrugged. “I’m not the sort of person that usually plays mind games on people.”

“We don’t have to play any games at all,” Shannon said, casting off my worries carelessly. “We’d have to tell Finn exactly what we’re up to; he’d figure it out anyway. He’ll probably just think it’s funny.”

“You know, you’re right,” I said. “Finn does need a girl. By the way, how’s your dating life recently? I haven’t seen the usual line of boys around in a few weeks.” I noted her suddenly red face and smirked. Bull’s eye.

“My social life is not the issue here.” Her eyes were determined, so I decided not to push it.

“Fine, fine,” I said. “We’ll just focus on Finn then.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“Poor boy.” I climbed the steps to the library. “Has an evil genius for a sister.”

              “And no love life, so it’s really all his fault.”

              “If you say so.”

She shrugged as I pulled open the heavy door. “So why are we stopping by the library again?”

“Because I need to ask Finn a favor about Oscar.”

She just sighed and followed me inside.

Two

The Cornell Library was a very old red brick building, built during the twenties in the heart of town. It was two stories high, like every other storefront on the block, and was only distinguished by a low sign near the sidewalk that simply read the name,
Cornell Library, est 1926
. My body visibly relaxed with the rush of cool air from inside and the sweat on my temples now felt like an ice pack.

The building was mostly empty today. The only person in there was a youngish girl that was browsing through the young adult section near the huge spiral staircase that led upstairs to the fiction section.

Behind the front desk, his nose crammed characteristically into an old-looking book, sat Shannon’s twin brother, Finnegan. They looked like they should be twins, too, even though they were obviously fraternal. Like his sister, Finn was tall and lean with a wide mouth and green eyes. His hair, though, was dark brown and untidy. The untidy part was mostly because he never bothered to smooth it down after a shower.

“What do you want?” he asked in a smooth voice without looking up from his book.

“Whatcha reading?” I asked.

“Chaucer.”

“What’s it about?”

“Just trust me when I say it’s not your cup of tea.”

“I’m sure,” Shannon said, pulling herself up onto the counter where she sat and studied her ruined nails.

“Get your butt off of my counter, woman!” Finn warned his sister.

“Bite me.”

Finn grabbed the spray bottle of diluted rubbing alcohol he used to clean the counters every day. He sprayed his sister point blank until she jumped down, squealing.

“Jerk!” she exclaimed, rubbing at her white shirt in an attempt to dry out the wet spots that he’d left all over it. The girl in Young Adult looked over at her and frowned. She crossed over to the staircase and disappeared to the second floor.

“I warned you.” He winked at me and returned to his book.

“Can we get out of here now, please?” Shannon moaned, giving up on her shirt and giving me a pleading stare.

“Just a minute.” I turned back to Finn. “Finn, Oscar stalled out on me today.”

He didn’t even look up. “You got it started again, though, right?”

“Yeah. It took a couple of tries, and there’s a red Chevy pickup that’s gonna murder me the next time he sees me, but I got it going again. Could you come over and look at it for me later? See if there’s something we can do for the old thing?”

“Make Aaron do it.”

“Aaron?” I asked, confused. “Even if Aaron did know something about cars, he’d never do me a favor.”

“Maybe you should give him a try.”

“Maybe you should stop being lazy and just help me out here.”

He grabbed the spray bottle again and pointed it directly in my face without having to look up.

“I’m just teasing!” I assured him. “Come on, Finn. Please?”

He sighed and lowered his weapon. “Fine. I’ll come over tomorrow afternoon if Bill doesn’t call me in again.”

“You could just tell Bill no,” Shannon offered.

“You know good and well that I can’t do that.”

“Come on, Shannon,” I said, pulling on her arm. I’d done what I’d come to do and now we could get this shopping nightmare over with.

“No wait!” Shannon said, realization dawning on her face. “I can’t believe we forgot. Guess what Finn!” she asked, and I suddenly felt the dull weight in my stomach roll back into place.

“What?” he asked in a bored voice.

“Mrs. Bates is pregnant. Emily’s gonna be a sister!”

“She’s already a sister, Shannon.”

“A
big
sister, numb nuts.”

“Congratulations.” Finn looked up at me, eyebrows furrowed. “You know, you’d think this would be news you’d hear straight from the horse’s mouth.”

My eyes hit the floor. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “You just don’t seem so excited about all this. A new baby is big news!” He threw me an exaggerated grin and two thumbs up, finally putting down his book to do so.

“I don’t seem excited because I’m not excited,” I said quickly. “There, I said it. I’m a terrible person. I’m not looking forward to having a new baby in the house.”

Shannon pulled a sympathetic face, but Finn just shrugged. “So long as you’re not fooling yourself, I guess.”

I reached across the counter and smacked him playfully upside his head. He was faster than I’d bargained for, though, and I was suddenly being drenched in the rubbing alcohol. The fumes burned my nose and I backed away with my arms up in mock surrender, laughing. “All right! All right! Sorry!”

He put the bottle back down on the desk firmly. “That’s right you are!” he said. “And don’t worry about the baby thing. I’m sure that it will all work out.”

“Just because you’re sure of something doesn’t make it true,” I said.

“Of course it does,” he said, his attention back on Chaucer. “For I am Finnegan O’Malley.”

“No, I’m serious. Didn’t Jill Knox’s sister get Down syndrome because her mom was so old when she was born?”

Finn rolled his eyes.

“Probably,” Shannon said with a hesitant frown.

“See! She’s too old for this.”

“No she isn’t! She’s going to be fine.”

I frowned at Shannon, but didn’t argue with her. I didn’t feel like exerting the effort, especially since I didn’t have any concrete evidence yet that this pregnancy was a mistake. Her admission about Jill’s sister just wasn’t enough.

That evening when I got home, not even the blissful barrier between the scorching heat of outside and the cool, refreshing, air conditioned indoors could diminish the aching hole in my gut where my own guilt was chewing its way through my innards. I had thought about it long and hard while Shannon tried on outfit after outfit that afternoon and I stood outside of her changing room with various sizes of the same clothes piled up in my arms. The twins were right, it
would
all work out, but not if I came at the situation with an angry attitude. And Aaron was right (unfortunately) that Mom needed our support instead of my stubborn annoyance.

When was it going to be my turn to be right about something?

So if attitude was the key, then I’d just have to fake it until even I believed it. I still did not want this baby in my house, but there was nothing I could do about it now. Positive attitude.

And forgiveness. I needed some of that too.

I found Mom in our wide, airy kitchen, patiently browning three pieces of chicken breast in a skillet with some onions and garlic. Cream sauce was simmering in a sauce pan on the back burner. My mouth began to water immediately, but the guilt burning a whole in my chest pushed my sudden appetite to the back of my mind.

My eyes scanned the kitchen and I saw that the sink was full of dirty dishes. Wanting to be helpful, I went over to the ancient dishwasher and began to unload it. Mom turned to glance at me as I stacked clean plates in my arms. “Thanks,” she said with a self-satisfied smirk. “I was putting that off in hopes that one of you kids would feel guilty about making me do all the work around here.” She grinned at me and winked. I smiled back, but couldn’t put quite as much enthusiasm into it as she did.

“Listen, Mom,” I said, my arms still loaded down with plates and bowls. “I’m sorry I freaked out this afternoon. I think it’s really great that we’re having another baby.”

Mom laughed, true delight sparkling behind her eyes. “Oh honey, you’re such a terrible liar!” she cried, but immediately sobered up when she saw my hurt expression. She crossed the room in an instant
,
took the dishes away from me to set them on the counter
, and
wrapped her arms around m
e.

“Emily, dear, I know that this is a big change and it’s going to be difficult. I understand that it’s hard for you. It’s hard for all of us to wrap our heads around this.” She held me away at arms length. “I do appreciate the intent, though, and the apology. Thank you.” She brushed my wild hair out of my face to kiss my forehead and went back to the stove.

“I want you to know that I was serious, though. About you being too old.”

Mom rolled her eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes! I’m serious!”

“You said that.”

“No, Shannon confirmed it. Jill Knox was right about the Down syndrome thing, and you could develop high blood pressure and diabetes because you’re over thirty-five. Are you sure you want to be sticking yourself with needles every day for the rest of your life?”

Mom laughed and faced me. “Regardless, the deed is done. It’s too late.”

I slouched in defeat. “I know.”

“And don’t worry about me,” Mom said. “I will be just fine, even if I do have to stick myself with insulin every day. I like to think it’ll be worth it.”

“If you say so.” The sarcasm was thick in my voice, but I smiled anyway, just to appease her.

She patted my arm and the guilt-hole in my stomach began to heal. It was instantly replaced with a heavy weight in my gut as the reality of the situation suck in a little deeper. A new baby. The whole household would change. We’d all have to shove over to make room. There would be toys everywhere, and screaming in the middle of the night.

That’s exactly what I needed, sleepless nights in my last year of high school. Knowing my luck, I’d flunk out in the home stretch.

“Positive attitude!” I hissed at myself under my breath.

“What?” Mom asked, turning around.

“Hmm? Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” I went back to putting away the dishes, doing my best to ignore the growing lump in my gut.

The next day I mostly stayed in my room tooling around on the
Internet
. As it turned out, a lot of good advice for older pregnant women was floating around on the web, and I spent all day pouring through the articles. I skipped over the ones that applauded women for waiting until their thirties because it meant they were “emotionally stable and more ready for the responsibility.” That wasn’t the sort of thing I needed to hear just then. What I needed was for someone to offer a specialized diet for older women or something, anything I could offer as advice for my own elderly mother.

I couldn’t find one.

Finn never showed up to look at Oscar’s engine. Either he’d forgotten about it or he’d been called in to work again. No, scratch that. Finn never forgot anything, not that I’ve ever noticed, so he must have been at work. I toyed with the idea of going to the library myself just to bug him, but gave up on the idea. Odds were he’d bug me more than I’d bug him.

I called Shannon, though, and talked with her for a while about nothing at all. When I hung up the phone after half an hour of, “What do you want to do?” “I don’t know. What do you want to do?” “I asked you first.” “Well I asked you second.” “I don’t know. Nothing sounds like much fun. What do you want to do?” I flopped down on my bed with a groan.

“I am so ready for school to start!” I said to myself irritably. It might be too crowded for my taste, but at least then I wouldn’t be so bored all the time.

“Freak,” Aaron said as he passed my open door.

“Psycho!” I yelled after him.

“You two leave each other alone!” Mom’s voice echoed up the stairs from the living room.

The days passed slowly, almost too slowly, but finally I got my wish. It was Sunday night, and school would start the next morning. Shannon was lounging on my bed, making good use of my prolific manicure supplies to try to salvage her nails before the fated first day of school.

“You know, you wouldn’t have to scramble like this if you would just stop biting your nails,” I told her from the floor. I sat surrounded by all of my new school supplies, bought at the last minute that afternoon. I was removing label stickers and filling notebooks with loose leaf paper.

“Shut up,” Shannon mumbled, distracted as she carefully covered one nail at a time with a fleshy pink shade of polish. She held her hand out to examine her work. “Why do you have all of this stuff anyway? You never use it.”

I sighed and looked around at the primping and polishing equipment that I usually kept stashed away in a set of white plastic drawers in the back of my closet. Shannon liked to pull those drawers out from time to time and rummage through my beautifying products. I didn’t mind. She was right; I had no use for most of them. If I ever used nail polish, I used the clear kind only.

“Crazy Aunt June’s been giving me this crap for years,” I replied. “Christmas, birthdays, you know.”

Shannon shuddered on the bed. “Ugh, Crazy Aunt June!” she groaned in mock horror.

“Shut up!” I said, throwing a pillow at her. “You don’t have to spend any time with her at all. You have no idea how crazy she really is!”

“Oh, so she gives you nail polish and outstays her welcome at Christmastime. What’s the big deal?”

“Just trust me,” I said. “You’ve met her. Don
’t
you remember the time when you and Finn came over for my birthday, and Crazy Aunt June showed up?”