A Summer in Sonoma (15 page)

Maybe that was another part of the problem—they always held up. He figured as long as he stayed upbeat and just kept working, everyone would hang in there, get through. He really didn't expect it to be that tough forever. Dan and his wife had it pretty much under control now; their money problems weren't terrible anymore. Billy figured a few more years with F.D. and finances would straighten out.

Getting on the department was like a dream come true to Billy. It wasn't just a decent job; it was all he'd ever wanted. And the department was a good, solid job with good benefits—that wasn't what was wrong. It was starting out broke, years of working low-paying jobs, going to school, running up debt. Julie's folks helped them get in the house so their income wouldn't be lost to rent, but real estate in California was expensive—it was a very little house, but not a little mortgage. Still, if they could just hang in there a few more years, things should get considerably better. He had absolutely
no doubt he'd promote himself at the earliest possible slot. And he had a plan; he intended to retire early enough to take on a second twenty-year career and draw a couple of decent pensions. By the time the kids were college age, things should be manageable, and by the time they were grown, life should be comfortable. Nice.

But this was too much for Julie. She couldn't take it anymore. She was afraid to have their baby, for God's sake—afraid she'd be eating cereal for dinner for the rest of her life. What kind of a man lets his wife go through that?

He sat by her bed while she slept off the anesthesia, reaching out to touch her hand every few minutes. Near dawn, her eyes opened and he jumped up, leaning over the bed. “Hey, baby.”

“Billy,” she whispered. “Billy, I'm sorry…”

“Shh, all that matters is you'll be all right. It wasn't as bad as you thought. Everything's okay now.”

“I didn't do that to hurt you, Billy. I love you, you know that….”

“Don't worry, Jules. I don't hurt that easy, honey. As long as you're okay, everything is okay.” But she's not okay, he thought. She has it rougher than I realized. I thought she was bitchy and hard to please; she's been deprived and hungry and terrified. I have to find a way to make this right. He leaned over and kissed her brow. “We'll get through this, honey. As long as we have each other.”

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do….”

“Jules, it's over. We're not going to let it bring us
down. I know I don't deserve it, but if you can trust me a little longer, I'll think of something. I swear to God, Jules. I'll make this better. All of it.”

“I didn't want to lose it—it was yours, and I love your babies so much.”

“It's okay, baby. Sleep off the drugs and I'll take you home.”

Her eyes fluttered closed and he sat by the bed again. Sat and tried to keep the tears that ran down his cheeks concealed from the nurses.

C
assie entered Julie's darkened bedroom carrying two glasses of wine. Julie had spent all day in bed, had a substantial early dinner that Cassie made herself and brought over, was not on pain meds and…was no longer pregnant. Along with the dinner, she brought a bottle of wine, knowing Julie wouldn't have any on hand. She passed Julie the glass. Julie was propped up on some pillows and the color had come back into her cheeks, a little of the light into her eyes.

“You sure this is okay?” Julie asked Cassie.

“If you're not nauseous from the anesthesia, you're fine. I have a big dinner waiting for Billy and the kids when he gets them home from your mom's. But you and I should talk. Jules, I had no idea what was going on with you. Since when does that happen?”

“I'm sorry. It's not that I didn't trust you, that I didn't
think you'd be supportive—I know you'd do anything for me. But I was devastated. Just stricken. In fact, I was thinking of making it go away before telling Billy, but I can't seem to keep things from him.” She looked down into the glass, took a sip. Then tears filled her eyes. “I just reached an understanding with women in trouble I've never had before. When you face something like this, you just don't have any good choices. None. The choice I made wasn't good—it was the least terrible.” She blinked and a tear spilled over.

“Can you please start at the beginning?” Cassie asked gently.

Julie laughed and rolled her eyes upward. “Let's see…I met Billy when I was fifteen years old, started dating him right before I turned sixteen…”

“Seriously,” Cassie said.

“Seriously,” Julie insisted. “Look, I know a lot of people have it worse. And believe me, I'd never complain about being married to the best man in the world or about having these kids—they're such awesome kids. But, Cassie, we just can't make ends meet. The only hope is keeping things static, and me going back to work as soon as possible. We can't add another child to the family without adding years to our financial recovery. There aren't just big bills to keep up with, there are
old
bills. Not just loans for Billy's school expenses—we've taken seconds on the house, equity lines, and the charge cards are maxed out.” She laughed humorlessly. “You max out, cut up the card, and someone will give you a new one when you clearly have no way to pay the bill! This country is run on madness!”

“So…what happened?” Cassie asked.

“I got caught again,” she said with a shrug. “Let's see, I got pregnant with Jeffy because I was taking antibiotics and my pills didn't work. I don't think anyone told me, but I can't remember. I was so young then, so hysterical. We got pretty good at relying on condoms and spermicide, but then there was a slip. We borrowed Joe's boat for an anniversary ride and got all steamed up, carried away and bingo—Clint. I swear to God, it was the only slip in five years, and he nailed me! I had a diaphragm right after Clint and got pregnant immediately. Beth said I must not have had a good fit. I thought I had it made with the IUD, even though my periods were like a train wreck. I made it three years!”

“Phew. Fertile Myrtle. You better hurry up on that vasectomy. Or something.”

“I can't wait for him anymore. I'm going to do the tubal thing. I just don't know how to afford it….”

“How's he doing? Billy?” Cassie asked.

Again Julie looked down. “He's sad. He's very, very sad. He can't look me in the eye. I don't think he'll ever forgive me.”

“Okay, wait. Let's get real here. That was the path of least resistance, pulling the IUD. This was going to happen, anyway—pulling the IUD just made it happen earlier. You get pregnant in the tube, the IUD keeps the fertilized egg from sticking, that's all it does. You never know what flowed out every month—a regular period or…”

“Or a baby?”

“Or a fertilized ovum. Do you have any idea how
many fertilized ova don't stick, anyway, without the presence of an IUD? How many times you manage to fertilize an egg? No one knows, that's how many. Beth was right—you didn't have any control of the outcome. You had no way of knowing if yanking out that IUD would cause a miscarriage or not. It was a risk. But not much more of a risk than having it in there with the baby in the first place, so give yourself a break. It would be different if you went out and had an abortion behind your husband's back….”

“I was thinking about it.”

“Thinking about it and doing it are two different things. Julie, you couldn't even keep from him the fact that you were pregnant! You tell him everything.” She patted her hand. “He's feeling some loss, just like you are. You both need time to grieve, but you'll get beyond this. Come on.”

The doorbell rang and Cassie put down her wine. “I'm on that,” she said, rising to leave. She was back in less than a minute with Beth trailing along behind her.

“How are you feeling?” Beth asked, sitting on the bed.

Julie struggled against tears. “Empty.”

“Aw, honey. I'm so sorry things haven't been easier….”

“Is it true? I could've lost it later? Like even after feeling it move?”

“We're making lots of progress with the rare IUD baby, keeping everyone safe and intact, but there are still occasional problems. The further the pregnancy goes, the better our chances. But then, every day is a stressful day, hanging on. The important thing is you're fine. Fine, Julie. That's worth being grateful for.”

The doorbell rang again. “I'll get that,” Cassie said once more.

In less than two minutes Marty came into the room, carrying a glass of orange juice for Beth. She sat on the bed along with everyone else. “Pregnant? And you didn't tell us?” Marty said.

“I was embarrassed,” Julie said. “It was another accident. How can anyone believe me that I have this many accidents? I know in your hearts you must think I'm making excuses, that we took a lot of stupid chances…”

“Oh, don't be ridiculous. You can be depressed if you want to, but no paranoia,” Marty said. “We know you, Jules. We know you had signed off on reproduction.”

“Really, three kids—it'll put you right over the edge.”

“Oh, yeah?” Marty laughed. “One more and I might hang myself!”

Beth turned to stare at her. “Is Jason a tough kid?”

“Nah, he's an angel. Joe's a tough kid.” Then Marty looked at Julie and asked, “So, what's going on here? I mean, I can understand wanting to cut it off, but is there something else? Something you should be telling us?”

Julie just dropped her chin and shook her head.

“Yes, there are money problems,” Cassie said, breaking the silence, giving her up. “Serious money problems—and since Billy and Joe work together, that can't go any further. Are you in this pact of silence?”

“Of
course,
” Marty said. “Oh, my God! Did you think you couldn't trust
me?
”

“You know, I don't even care,” Julie said. “Billy does nothing but work, and there's no reason he should be
embarrassed around his friends. The truth is, we're just about bankrupt. If a car goes right now, we're doomed. It's old loans for college, maxed-out credit cards, a second on the house, a loan consolidation thing—it all piles up. It just keeps getting worse instead of better. There's no end in sight. Another baby sure wasn't going to help us dig out.” She took a breath. “I panicked.”

“Well, maybe bankruptcy is the answer,” Beth said. “Have you talked to anyone about that?”

“That would be so humiliating….”

“But have you?”

“We've been to the bank,” Julie said. “They discourage that.”

“Of course they do!” Beth laughed. “They wouldn't get their money back! Oh, jeez—girl, you don't even know what you don't know!”

“Beth, I just don't think I could bear the shame of it. We pay our bills, or at least we do everything we can.”

Beth just laughed and all eyes were on her. “That's very noble, but there comes a time when your family is more important than all that pride. I worked with a vascular surgeon who filed for bankruptcy, and he sure didn't look ashamed. I think he gave up his leased Ferrari, but he didn't move out of his eight-thousand-square-foot house with the pool! Jules, you have to get some help.”

“We've had a couple of loan consolidation deals. We can't get ahead of them. The bills just keep getting bigger.”

“That's what I'm saying—some of those bills have probably been paid ten times over with just the interest.
There are solutions.” Everyone just stared at her. “I read money magazines to relax.”

Cassie just shook her head. “Oh, God, only you would read money magazines to unwind.” Then to Julie she said, “Until you get this straightened out, we can help.”

“Oh,” Julie said, shaking her head. “No…”

“I don't mean with money,” she said. “I'll commit to two casseroles a week. Big ones. I guarantee leftovers. And everything that's left in the garden.”

“I can cover two. Joe will never know,” Marty said. “I'll make them up on days he works and I'm home— I'll freeze them.”

“Ah, since I don't even know
how
to cook,” Beth weighed in, “what in the world can I do?”

“Can you buy lettuce and tomatoes?” Marty asked.

“I can,” Beth said with a big smile. “Actually, I'm very good at fruits and vegetables. I'm also good at bread! Well, I'm good at buying it…. It won't solve all the problems, but it might get you over the hump.”

Julie put her hands over her face and began to cry.

“Aw, now what are you crying about?” Cassie asked, tugging at her hands.

“This is what friends do when someone dies!” she sobbed.

“Or when someone's a little down on their luck,” Marty said, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. “Now, come on—you'd do the same. What are you crying about?”

“I don't know,” she said through sobs. “I don't know if I'm totally embarrassed, totally touched that you
would do that or just helpless. I don't know anything. I don't even know myself anymore….”

“Join the club,” Marty said. “I've been feeling that way a lot lately. I walked out on Joe the other day. We had a fight—same fight. I was furious that he couldn't pick up his own mess or take a shower. I drove around and ended up at Martinelli's for takeout and who'd I run into? Ryan Chambers!”

“Oh, no,” Cassie said. “What did you do?”

“Just talked to him awhile, waiting for my pizzas. Jules, baby, I wish you could help me with my problems by fixing a couple of casseroles every week. I don't think we're going to make it—me and Joe.”

The conversation shifted to Marty and Joe, as happened with them routinely. When one of them became more revealing, others opened up even more. They didn't realize they were like that, but they traded secrets. Marty laid it out—she didn't even want to sleep in the same room with Joe anymore. He'd begun to repulse her. The thought of his whiskers against her breast was unimaginable. She wanted to cut up the gym shorts, sink the boat, put a pipe bomb in the goddamn big screen. She longed for a romantic partner, even if it was only occasional. She'd be happy if he'd shave and shower before coming to bed, even sometimes.

Cassie confessed about the assault, tilting Beth and Marty back on their heels. She admitted to becoming friendly with her rescuer. And she was adamant—she
was positively through with dating. Walt was just a diversion, a good friend to pass some time with.

The one person who didn't have anything to share was Beth.

 

Beth knew that closing herself off was not only a bad idea, it was going to ultimately be impossible. First of all, she'd had to meet with the senior staff at the clinic, let them know she'd begun treatment that would soon not only affect her schedule, it could diminish her energy and ability to put in those long hours. Of course, she was extended all the support her colleagues could offer—it was, after all, a women's clinic. They dealt with these medical issues with patients every day and, unfortunately, had a couple of staff members who had faced similar challenges. Their head nurse was a breast cancer survivor; their senior female physician had undergone a hysterectomy several years ago for a cancerous tumor in her uterus.

The rest of the world she hoped to hold off for a while, at least until and if she began to lose her hair.

She'd always been a private sort, not because she was secretive, but because she had a tendency to be intense, to think about things deeply for a long time before putting her emotions out there to be examined. Some of that was natural, some learned during the minefields of residency when it felt as if everyone was constantly gunning for the young, inexperienced doctor. And, of course, she'd had that history—her last bout with this disease.

She had been in her third year of med school, only twenty-five, and involved in a very comfortable relationship with Mark, a first-year surgical resident. It was serious; he'd chosen his residency to be in the same city with Beth while she finished school. They had moved in together a few months prior to the diagnosis and had casually kicked around the idea of getting engaged as soon as she graduated, got her M.D. It was, in fact, the first serious relationship she'd had.

The news of the malignancy devastated her, threw her into a complete tailspin. She wasn't a totally abnormal girl—she'd cried before—but nothing like the hysteria brought on by facing that battle. Of course, her parents came at once, although, God bless them, they weren't much comfort. She'd never seen her mother more scatterbrained and fretful, her father more helpless than ever. Since they'd never been in the least domestic to start with, they were more trouble than help around the house and with meals. They drove Mark crazy in two days.