Life Without You (29 page)

Much to my delight and surprise, fitting all of my work into this new, less-structured arrangement of living was going far better than I could have anticipated. I’d been able to keep up with all of my assignments for my various magazine editors and still have time to spend with actual people—Vivi, Annabelle, Savannah, Grandpa. It made me realize how much I’d allowed my worry about staying so tightly focused on getting and maintaining enough work to keep my bills paid that I was letting the rest of my life just go by without me. It was, as I was seeing now, unnecessary and really not benefitting me in any way, if I was to be perfectly honest about it.

Hopefully, this realization would be remembered when I was back home, in my own environment, where I could so easily fall back into unhealthy patterns.

“Dellie,” Mama said, drawing me back to the conversation. “I hope being there has been good for you. I mean, I think it has, based on everything you’ve been telling me,” she hurried on. “But I hope that it helps you make and keep making real changes, once you’re home again.” It was as though she’d been reading my thoughts, and I almost laughed. She knew me too well.

“Me, too, Mama,” I said honestly. “I see changes here, and I feel changes; but there’s part of me that wonders if I’ll know how to keep them after I leave. I
want
to,” I continued. “I want so badly for my life to be different, and I know that I’m the only one who can make that happen. I don’t have anyone or anything but me to keep me from making that happen, but sometimes I still feel like it’s almost impossible. This is how things have been for so long that it’s hard to remember it any other way, even though I know that this is not how it has to be—or how it
should
be.”

“Don’t dwell, Dellie,” Mama said, drawing on her own experiences. “
Do
. It’ll get easier. It’ll take time, and it’ll take work. I’ve told you that before, I know; but it’s true. And every time you
do
, the next step forward is just a little bit easier. It
will
get better—and
you
will get better.”

There were tears burning my nose as I listened, knowing how right she was and hoping that I would be able to do what I needed to in order to get back to living again.

“I know, Mama,” I murmured, trying to keep the tears from forming. My eyes fell on the pen Olivia had given me, a reminder that people had faith in me and that there were so many things I had to look forward to in my life—but they would only be possible if I got healthy again.

I had pearls in my life, but so far, I’d been terribly remiss in claiming them.

“I miss you, and I’m glad you’ll be home soon,” she said.

“Me, too. I’ve really enjoyed being here, but I’ve missed you. And I bet Charlie is huge, isn’t she?” I asked, realizing that, this late in her pregnancy, my sister’s belly would seem to be growing almost daily.

Mama laughed, a beautiful sound that I couldn’t wait to hear in person again.

“She is. She was big when you left, but you know how it is. That last month of her pregnancies, she goes from big to huge in the blink of an eye. And it’s
all
belly,” she said. “I know this is her fourth, so she’s used to how all this goes by now; but it still amazes me how much energy she has to get it all done before the babies come. She’s been redecorating all the bedrooms—sewing curtains, making headboards. And still keeping up with her tutoring students, too,” Mama went on, making me realize that it had been awhile since I’d last spoken to my sister. Every time I’d tried to call her or text her, I’d been stuck with voicemail or unanswered texts, further proof that she was extremely busy, with an overwhelming amount of things demanding her attention.

“Is she doing okay? Is she getting enough help from Mike?” I knew the question was unnecessary, but I still needed to ask. I sometimes felt so guilty for not being there to help her with things, even though she had a husband to take care of whatever she might need; but I wondered if I was failing her—failing our relationship—for not being there for her in more ways.

“She’s fine, sweetie. She’s nesting, getting things the way that she wants them. It helps her feel more prepared, even though it wears her out. You know that,” Mama said reassuringly. “And Mike is helping; don’t worry.”

I nodded, knowing she was right.

“Well, tell her that I’ve been trying to call her,” I said, hoping that Mama would know that I hadn’t
not
been trying to keep up with my sister while I was here.

“I will, hon. I’m sure she’s probably just been forgetting to call you back.”

“I know. I just miss talking to her, I guess,” I said, realizing the truth in the words as I said them. My sister had, so often in the years of our childhood, been my lifeline and my sounding board; and sometimes the ways that our lives diverged now made me feel as though we lived on two separate planets, even when we were in the same room. I missed talking to her—but more than that, I missed the depth of the connection we’d once shared.

And most of the reason for that change was on me.

Reconnect with Family.
One more thing to accomplish on my bucket list—not just while I was here, but when I was back at home, as well. I’d let
those
relationships suffer, and I wanted that to be different.

“Well, you’ll be home soon,” Mama said, unaware of the tumble of thoughts going on in my head.

“And then it
really
won’t be long until the baby’s here,” I noted.

“You’re right about that. It’s gone by fast, hasn’t it?”

“Seems that way—but I bet Charlie would disagree.” I laughed.

The call-waiting beep broke in, and I glanced at the clock at the top of my computer screen, wondering who might be wanting me this morning. Vivi and Savannah were both at work, Annabelle had a ladies’ brunch, and Grandpa never called me while he was working.

Maybe Charlie’s ears had been burning.

“Mama, there’s a call coming in; can we talk more later?”

“Sure, honey,” Mama replied easily. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Give Daddy a kiss for me?”

“You know I will. And remember what we talked about, okay?”

“I will, Mama. I will.”

“He’s not cheating, Dellie,” Bette said when I clicked the line over.

“Bette?”

“Yes, it’s me, sorry,” she said, hardly sounding anything of the sort. More than anything, she sounded shocked. Which, given Bette’s relatively high shock threshold, was saying something. I could only imagine what she had found out.

“Steve’s
not
cheating?” I asked, just to make sure that I was following.

“Steve’s not cheating,” she repeated. “And Andrea isn’t trying to be his work wife, either,” Bette went on, making some odd sort of sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob.

“She’s not?” I was fully aware of how idiotic I sounded, parroting everything back to her, but I wasn’t sure of how else I was supposed to guide the conversation. I needed details, and she seemed a little scattered. I was hoping that, in doing this, I was keeping us going in one direction.

“No,” Bette said, and I could picture her whipping her head back and forth. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together, but not because of work or an affair or anything like that!” she exclaimed.

“But—what else would it be, then?” I sputtered, truly confused, hoping that I wasn’t speaking loud enough to catch the attention of everyone around me.

“Dellie, Andrea’s niece is pregnant!” Bette whooped, the sound of it loud enough that I was almost certain the guy at the table ten feet away from me could hear.

“And this is making you happy
why
?” My eyes were squinted so tightly in utter confusion that I almost couldn’t see. I must have looked like a myopic idiot, hunching forward with the phone pressed to my ear as though my brain would somehow comprehend the details easier if I hunched, squinted, and pressed
just so
.

“She wants to give the baby up, Dellie! She wants someone to adopt it!” Bette whooped again. “She wants
us
to adopt it!”

I almost shot out of my chair in excitement. “Really? She wants you to adopt the baby? How did she even know you’d be open to adoption?” I asked as quietly as I could, under the circumstances.

After all that they had been through, trying to get pregnant and finding out that Steve wouldn’t ever be able to father any of his own, they’d signed up with an adoption agency and had even made it to the final stages of the processes only to be left with an empty nursery and shattered hopes when the baby’s birth mother changed her mind. True, it was a common enough tale, but the emotional roller coaster of it all had made Bette and Steve wonder if it was really worth all the financial stress and devastation. Not to mention the strain it had put on their relationship. In the end, they resigned themselves to the fact that they would never be parents and that their family would always only be the two of them.

Now, though, Bette was on the end of the line sounding more excited than I had heard her in longer than I could remember. I could only hope and pray that her excitement was well founded and that this wouldn’t prove to be another heartbreak.

“Andrea was talking to Steve about her niece one day while they were at the office and how the girl really, really doesn’t want to be a single mother—she’s only seventeen. She’s too young for all of this,” Bette explained, sounding breathless in her excitement.

“And no one in her family wants to help her?” I asked, amazed at the idea that her family would be so completely hands-off and unwilling to give her support.

Unless, of course, circumstances were such that, in encouraging her to give the baby up, they really were giving her the best support they knew how.

“Andrea says that they’re great people—a great family. But her niece has been in one mighty fine phase of rebellion, and this pregnancy has been a consequence of that,” she replied. “They want her to have a chance to turn her life around, to get an education, and not have to worry about taking care of a child until she’s a stable adult, in a happy marriage. What all parents want for their children, really,” Bette said, sounding more sober.

“And this girl is really okay with giving the baby up?” I asked, wanting to be sure.

“More than okay. In fact, it was her idea. She found out she was pregnant, and instead of going to the closest clinic to have it terminated, she started doing some research on adoption before she even went to her parents with the news.”

“Wow. Maybe the reality of it all has helped her get a better perspective, then?”

“Maybe. All I know for sure is that it’s finally going to happen, Dellie! We’re going to have our baby!” she squealed, sounding so happy that I was afraid to ask the obvious question. But I had to, much as it pained me.

“This all sounds so promising, Bette; but how do you know for sure? After the last time—”

She cut in. “The last time was just that, Dellie. The last time. This time is different. I can feel it. And Steve’s been getting everything official started. That’s really what’s been keeping him so tied up at work and distracted. He started paperwork with the lawyers, and we’re going to be doing all of this privately, without the help of an agency. It takes a lot of time and focus and energy, and Steve didn’t want me to have to go through any of it until he was really, really sure that it was going to happen for real this time,” Bette rushed on.

I wished I was there to give her a hug and show her just how excited I was for her.

A baby. Bette was going to get her baby.

“When is she due?” I asked, finally letting myself relax and enjoy the news. If Bette was going to be excited, I was to be excited with her. Especially since, only days ago, we had both been so convinced that Steve had been having an affair. This was so far on the opposite end of the spectrum that it was almost insane.

Steve hadn’t been doing anything to destroy his marriage—he’d been taking steps to give his wife something she’d been dreaming of.

“In five months!” Bette crowed. “We’re going to have our baby in five months! The due date is February fourteenth, believe it or not!”

I smiled. A Valentine’s Day baby. “Is it a boy or a girl? Or did you not want to know?”

Oddly enough, this was something we’d never discussed, in all the conversations we’d had about babies. Did Bette like the idea of being surprised, or did she want to have that detail nailed down?

“It’s a girl! Can you believe it? I finally get my baby, and it’s a girl! I feel like it’s all happening so fast! I’ve only got five months to get everything ready! There’s so much to do, Dellie! I wish you were here, so you could help me with all this.” Bette’s voice took on a slight edge of panic as the reality of it all hit her.

My eyebrows knit together in befuddlement. “Bette, when did you find all this out?”

“Just.”

“Just, as in
a few minutes ago
, or just, as in you’ve known for a couple of days and have started letting everybody know?” I asked.

“
Just
, just. Steve
just
told me. He got the morning off from work and took me out to breakfast at Devilish Egg, and then we walked around a little downtown. We were going past that one little baby boutique that somehow always manages to smell like lavender and baby powder when you walk by and the doors are shut—you know the one—”

“Lavender and Layettes?”

“That’s the one! I think maybe they pump the air outside or something…”

“Bette!” I barked, trying to get her back to the conversation. “What happened next?”

“Sorry,” she replied, sounding suitably chastened. “He asked me if I wanted to go in, so we did—and oh, my gosh, Dellie, I think you have to sell your organs on the black market to be able to afford a pacifier in there; it’s ridiculous.”

“
Be-ette
,” I singsonged. I wanted to hear what Steve did next, not get the nitty-gritty details about how overpriced the little bastion on all things baby was. I could have deduced that without ever having stepped one toe inside, so she was hardly telling me State secrets.