Breakwater Beach (31 page)

Chapter 38

February 14, 2010

Brewster, Massachusetts

Mike entered the midwife’s office with Liz, sat down with all the other couples, read a magazine with a naked belly on the cover, and waited. Everyone there, with the exception of the receptionist, was half his age.

Liz was for sure the oldest pregnant woman in the room, but she looked damn good in her designer maternity clothes. The red sweater dipped low enough to show off her generous cleavage, and the waistband of her pants rested just below her ripening tummy. She might be eight months pregnant, but the sight of her rounded rear still got him to stand at attention.

Liz moved like a ballerina in ruby-red flats, her head high, confident and relaxed, past the eyebrows raised at two grandparents having their own baby.

Inside the exam room, with the poster on the wall of a baby floating upside down in blue water, the midwife, Michelle, assumed he was the father. Liz didn’t say anything to correct that, and it didn’t matter anyway. He planned to be there when the baby was born, and for all intents and purposes, would be.

Michelle looked somewhere south of forty, wasn’t wearing Birkenstocks and a headscarf, and seemed confident and knowledgeable. Mike did all the fatherly things: helped measure Liz’s belly and asked questions about the birth plans, particularly emergency procedures.

Driving her Bimmer back from Cotuit to Brewster was a nice change from piloting a broken down Ford pick-up. Leather seats, a luxury sound system with cool jazz playing, the hum of the engine, and the smooth ride accentuated the heady experience of entering a world usually reserved for the twenty-to-thirty-year-old set. He glanced at the hot mama next to him while they waited at a light and suppressed a laugh at the thought of a fisherman like him landing a catch like her.

Liz rested her hand on his thigh, and he placed his on top of it. No manicures lately. Her nails were work worn from attending to things around the house and hauling wood. But her touch was smooth as silk, and there wasn’t anything that felt better than her fingertips brushing against his skin.

“Mike, things are so much better when you’re with me.” She massaged the muscles at the back of his neck.

“Mmm, that feels so good.” He bent sideways, kissed her arm, and tried to focus on the stoplight.

“What is it?” Liz smiled. “You look like a little boy about to confess something.”

Perfect timing. “Let’s get married, before the baby comes. I want him to have my last name.”

Her smile disappeared. “Names aren’t important.”

He was grateful the light changed and he had to keep his eyes on the road. “I’m a traditional, religious guy. A child should have a mother and a father. I want the baby to think of me that way. I need to prove to Jay I’m serious. Teenage boys need a father figure in their lives, too.”

“And you’re ready for diapers, runny noses, midnight feedings, strollers, and car seats?

“I’ve been there before.”

“What about your house? I think we better wait until he’s born, and the reality of a new baby, before we make any plans.

Mike turned into Liz’s driveway and turned off the ignition. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” He handed her the box. “My house is an empty shell. Mary died there. All I can remember is her hospital bed in the living room so she could look outside. Allison still doesn’t like to come home. I won’t feel bad selling it.”

Liz opened the jewelry case and stared at Mike when she saw the diamond glimmering like a headlight in the center of two smaller ones. “This is a beautiful ring, Mike. But, I’m not ready to rush into this. The peace with Jay is still uneasy. I can’t stir that up again.”

She rested her hand on his arm. “My lawyer warned me not to do anything that makes me seem impulsive. Jay is so impressionable, and he sees Jeffers as a father figure because he reminds him of Gerry. If I piss him off, and they team up again, it would be a disaster. Jeffers is holding my partnership income in escrow while the auditor tries to figure out his creative bookkeeping. This is far from over.”

He took her hands. “Since when does getting married mean you’re impulsive? I might not be rich, but I have more than enough money to provide everything you and the baby need. Maybe Jay isn’t the only one I have to convince I’m serious.” Mike tried to hide his disappointment, slipped the ring onto her finger, and kissed her. “We’re sitting here like two teenagers making out in the car. But we’re far too old to play games, Elizabeth.”

“Mike, why did you call me that?” She stiffened.

“That’s your name.”

“You never called me that before.” Her eyes widened and she fidgeted

“I’m using your full name because this is the most important conversation we’ve ever had.”

Liz wagged her head. “I know you just tolerate my crazy talk. But how are you going to feel when the baby is born and looks nothing like you? He might even resemble his father.”

He pounded the steering wheel in frustration. “No matter when your husbands died, they’re still dead. I’m no more uncomfortable with their presence in your life than you are with Mary’s in mine. Don’t you think this is what they would want?

“You’re the one who’s worried that the baby will remind you of his father. I’m not, and I’m being very selfish, Liz. This old man gave up on life; all I had to look forward to was fishing by myself in the middle of winter, going out with my friends for a beer, or watching baseball and football. Being with you makes me happy.”

“But soon it won’t be just me. It will be a new baby, with all that hoopla, and let’s not forget Jay. I’m not saying no, Mike. Just that we should wait awhile before we make any irrevocable plans.”

“Liz, these are the facts: I love you, you’re pregnant, it’s not mine, and I don’t care. You need to be tougher on Jay. If you want something else, the ring can be exchanged. But there are no refunds.”

Mike helped her out of the car. Her fancy shoes provided no traction on the icy stairs, and he held on tight so she wouldn’t fall.

Liz let him lead her along. “The ring is beautiful, Mike. Just perfect. I love you, too. I have a present, but it’s nothing like this. Just a nice dinner. You’ll have to wait until bedtime to see my impersonation of a lumpy egg in a flannel nightgown.”

“I think you’re sexy no matter what you’re wearing.” Mike removed his coat, helped Liz out of hers, and hung them over the banister. He kissed her and ran his hands over her curves, but she turned her head and squirmed out of his grasp.

“I have to get started on your dinner. We’ll snuggle up in front of the fire later, okay?”

“Okay.” A vague recollection of being so close to happiness and having it snatched away flashed through his mind. He lit the fire in the living room and sat on the sofa. The sounds of pots banging and dishes tinkling drifted out of the kitchen. Unease descended over him as he stared into the flames, but his mind couldn’t penetrate the wall around the memory.

Mike didn’t recall dozing off, but Liz’s soft kiss on his forehead woke him. She’d set up her Valentine’s gift on the cocktail table: a fondue pot and a plate of bread and fruit. The oily fragrance of Sterno mingled with the tangy aroma of grilled cheese. Liz handed him a glass of sparkling cider, and clinked her glass on his.

She snuggled next to him. “I love you, Mike.”

“Are you sure?” Being close to her eased his anger, but disappointment simmered.

“Like you said, we’re not teenagers. I’m not rushing into a marriage that might be doomed by events beyond our control. You, Mae, and Kevin just humor me. But they aren’t committing to a lifetime fathering a child who belongs to someone else. I’m trying to prevent you from getting hurt.”

Liz dipped a piece of bread into the fondue and twirled it around. She handed the fork to Mike and prepared one for herself. Her face flushed from the fire, and the flickering firelight danced off the diamond ring. He savored the fullness of her breasts and belly as she bit into a strawberry and dabbed the juice off her chin with a red napkin.

“Why not make it easy on yourself? Let me worry about me.” Mike guided a hunk of bread with a long string of cheese hanging off it into his mouth. He chewed for a second, enjoying the tang. “This is delicious. And so are you.”

Liz gazed right through him.

“So you want companionship and sex, but no commitment. Sorry, Liz, I don’t think that way. You’ve told me your concerns. I don’t share them. I think you’re the one who fears reality.” He moved away and dipped another piece of bread into the cheese. “You’re very enticing tonight, but this whole thing seems wrong.”

Liz sipped her drink and popped grapes into her mouth.

“I’ll put it right.” She kissed his neck.

He rested his head back on the sofa while she worked her way down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as she went. When she leaned against him, the baby kicked hard. He ignored it and focused on reaching under the sweater to unhook her bra.

She tossed a wool throw over the two of them, slipped off her pants, and unzipped his. Mike turned off his thoughts, concentrated on getting his clothes off, and getting inside Liz’s body instead of her mind.

Chapter 39

March 23, 2010

An unusual late season snowstorm blew in from the north. Six inches already covered the ground. Tree limbs, weighed down by the wet load, cracked and fell. Liz sat in the living room looking out the bay window at the winter wonderland. She wished she could go outside and cross-country ski, but one week overdue, could barely move. She ate a bowl of cereal and sipped tea, and the baby squirmed from the sugar rush. “Are you coming out? We’re waiting.”

She listened to the traffic report, school closings, weather forecasts, and tried to get up enough energy to start a fire. Her back hurt, and she tucked the Scottish wool blanket over herself and lay down on the couch, propped up by three pillows. When she awoke the fire roared, and the teakettle whistled in the kitchen. The warmth of Mike’s dependable presence enveloped her body and soul.

He brought in a tray of toast, eggs, and tea and sat down next to her. “Hey, sleepyhead!”

“I woke up at four and didn’t want to disturb you, so I came downstairs.” She stretched to relieve the cramps in her legs and back before sitting up.

They nibbled from the same plate. When they were done, Mike put the tray on the floor and gave her his ritual morning back massage.

Liz’s muscles relaxed under his firm, gentle hands. “Mike, they say making love causes labor to start.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” He stopped massaging.

“Don’t stop. It has something to do with prostaglandins that ripen the cervix.”

He resumed, without the same vigor. “I don’t care what glands are involved. You can’t even move or turn over in bed. What kind of man do you think I am? Women mystify me, they really do!”

Liz pushed up and eased herself back into his arms. “I want this to be over with, and sex is much more appealing than castor oil cocktails. Please. It’s snowing, there’s nowhere to go, and would you really rather get your exercise shoveling?”

He hadn’t wanted to make love for the last month and denied being upset about their conversation on Valentine’s Day, but Liz knew he was. Not even the little seductions that always worked: kissing his neck, tickling him, and snuggling overcame that. She felt so big and unattractive anyway, it hadn’t mattered. But now, she was incredibly aroused and worked harder than usual, nibbling his earlobes and nuzzling his neck.

“I surrender,” he said. “But we have to go upstairs because if Mae walks in on us she’ll beat me with the fireplace poker.”

Mike curled up on the opposite side of the bed while Liz arranged her five pillows. She propped her head up on two, put one between her legs, one against her back, and one under her belly.

She was mad. He had to admit saying he wasn’t in the mood and suggesting she go ahead and drink the castor oil instead hadn’t been very nice. She’d tricked him this morning, but he wasn’t falling for her line tonight. After shoveling all the snow out of the driveway so they could get out if they needed to, he was tired. Boy, could he use one of her massages now.

Should he do the nice thing, apologize, and offer to rub her back if she rubbed his? No, it wouldn’t stop there, and he was sick of being used. She’d worn the engagement ring, but was her moodiness just late pregnancy discomfort or something else?

He couldn’t shake off the sense of impending doom he’d felt since he’d proposed and she said “someday.” How would she react if the baby looked like one of her attackers, not the long-lost Edward she’d invented as the father?

The baby had come between them, emotionally and physically, since the beginning of their relationship. He was a mystery, not their shared creation or a symbol of their union. Would the memory of his father intrude and drive them away from each other forever? He wanted her all to himself and imagined what it would be like to make love without feeling the constant presence of someone else. To lie next to her, belly to belly, without having to worry about anything, or anyone, else.

At two a.m., he woke up and realized he was alone in the bed with five pillows. He’d often found her doing yoga for her aching back, eating, or restless and pacing somewhere. She wasn’t in the bathroom, or in her rocking chair in front of the window.

Mike padded down the stairs and heard Liz whimper in the kitchen. He ran the rest of the way, pushed open the door, and saw Mae, her hair tousled from sleep, in baggy sweat clothes, holding on to Liz.

“Oh, no, another one.”

“Breathe, Lizzy. Ya kin do it. Lean against me now.” Mae sank to her knees, following Liz down.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Mike ran over to help both of them to their feet.

“I got up and saw the kitchen light on. I suspected somethin’ was goin’ on and when I got to the back door, sure enough, there she was, huffin’ and puffin.’”

Liz leaned against him and had another contraction. Her muscles tensed, she trembled, struggled to catch her breath, and moaned in relief as it ended. She took a few deep breaths smiled at him. “See, it worked.”

“Did you call Michelle?” He had to wait until another contraction passed for an answer, suddenly aware he was wearing only a pair of boxer shorts.

“She’s picking up the other nurse and is on her way.” Liz took a few more breaths to recover.

“It’s freezing in here.” Mae went out onto the porch to get some wood.

Mike took advantage of their moment alone. “Liz, why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You were tired after shoveling snow all day. This is going to take all night, and I wanted to let you get some sleep. Oh no, here comes another one.”

She leaned against him again. He kissed the top of her head, fighting back worry, and something else he couldn’t define. Mae carried in an armful of logs. He ran to help her, and then stoked the stove to warm up the kitchen. Liz sat backwards on a chair and Mae rubbed her back for two more contractions, about three minutes apart.

“Fer goodness sake, how come nobody called me?” Kevin rushed in. “I get up to go to the bathroom and there isn’t even a note, Mae!”

“How many more folks are we gonna have here, for the love of God?” Mae said. “How is Liz goin’ to relax with all this company and nervous energy?”

“I don’t care if you set up bleachers,” Liz said. “I want to take a bath. And I promised to call Jay when I was in labor, no matter what time it was.”

“Good idea,” Mae said. “Let’s me ‘n you go up fer a bath. You both stay here to wait for the midwife. But ya might want to put on some pants, Mike.”

“I have to call Jay,” Liz insisted.

Mae helped Liz up from the chair and assisted her along. “Sit in the tub first. We’ll call him when the midwife’s here so he won’t worry.” She looked over her shoulder at Mike and Kevin as they left the kitchen. An expression of concern crossed her face.

Liz’s now familiar low moan and heavy breathing ascended the stairs and disappeared. Mike went up to the bedroom. The bathroom door was closed, and he heard water running and Mae fussing. He put on a pair of pants and a shirt and rejoined Kevin downstairs by the front window.

The driveway glistened like glass under the moonlight. A thick white blanket covered the tree branches. The air was still, and frozen crystals danced in the porch lights.

“Roads must be bad,” Mike said. “I wish she was having the baby in a hospital. If anything goes wrong it will take a long time to get to Hyannis.”

Kevin patted him on the back. “My mum had all of us at home with a midwife. I was there when my sisters and brothers were born. The women know what to do. It’s instinct, like with the horses and cows. When you take ‘em to the hospital they lose that. ‘Tis better like this, I think.” 

Someday that would be funny. “I don’t think I would say that to the ladies, Kevin.”

“Oh, ya know what I mean, Mike. But yer right. Mae would hit me.”

Headlights illuminated the road. A Subaru turned into the driveway. Mike exhaled.

Two women got out, hauling several bags. Michelle swung a cylinder in a sling over her shoulder. Mike and Kevin went out onto the porch to help them carry the equipment.

“She’s upstairs in the bathtub.” Mike helped them off with their coats.

“I’m Cindy, the nurse.” A too-young woman shook their hands and carried some bags upstairs.

“What’s that?” Mike pointed at the cylinder that looked like a torpedo with a scuba regulator attached.

“Oxygen. Just in case, Mike,” Michelle answered. “Don’t worry. I don’t anticipate any problems, but we’re ready.”

“Ya let me know when I have to start boilin’ the water,” Kevin said.

Michelle laughed as she handed Mike the oxygen tank, grabbed the rest of the bags, and started up. “We only need boiling water for tea these days. Our equipment is all sterilized. I’ll let you know when we need a round.”

Kevin looked at him. “Well, like I told ya, the women, they got it all under control. Now get up there.”