Love Story (16 page)

“You’re the baby’s father.”

“Yeah, I am.” He held her gaze for several seconds, then said, “Ready to go in?”

“Yes.”

His hand at her back
soothed her. Today she was vulnerable as hell, (a) because she was with Nick and (b) because this was her first prenatal appointment. The pregnancy would be confirmed, and they would talk to the doctor. Elizabeita
knew
she was carrying a child. Every common symptom had besieged her in full force, maybe because she was so sad. Paradoxically, each one reminded her what she had to look forward to.
That didn’t make sense, even to her.

The doctor greeted them. “Hello, again, Elizabeita.”

Nick’s jaw dropped. “You’ve been here before?”

“Yes, with Ana. Hello, Dr. Beltran.”

She introduced Nick.

“So, you think you’re pregnant?”

“I know I am.” She described her symptoms, missed period and early test she’d done.

“Let’s do the blood test and confirm. Then you can come
to my office to talk. I’ll send in a nurse.”

After blood was drawn, they were shown into a large airy room with pictures of babies on a big corkboard. She wondered briefly if Opal’s photo was one of them. They both took seats in front of the desk.

“So,” Nick said, nodding to her outfit. “You look good, except a little tired. I like the dress.”

She’d worn her favorite dark pink outfit,
with lower heels.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sick, as I said on the phone. But I’m calming down. It hasn’t been that long since Sammy was arrested.”

His blue gaze was intense. “It seems like forever to me.”

She blurted out, “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“How’s Mellie and your mom?”

“I haven’t told Mellie anything about this.”

“Does Irene know?”

“I’m afraid so.
I was miserable, and she demanded I tell her what happened with us.”

“What did she say?”

“To be patient. Does your mother know?”

“I was going to tell her last week, but she announced she’s getting married, and I didn’t want to put a damper on her joy. Or worse, cause her to change her plans.”

“I think—” The door opened, cutting off his words.

The doctor came in with a file.
“Congratulations, Elizabeita, Nick. You’ve got a baby on the way. Just barely…we estimate your conception date was a month ago.”

Elizabeita burst into tears.

Nick held her hand as they left the office. He’d barely let her go after she cried when the pregnancy was confirmed. He was ecstatic about the confirmation but worried about her. Out on the street, he squeezed her
fingers. “Want to get something to eat?”

“I want a nap.”

“I could drive you home.”

“No, I have work to do for the exhibit.” She didn’t pull her hand back, though, and he took that as a positive sign. So he grasped the other one. “Try to get some rest.”

“I will. Maybe I can leave early.”

His mother had warned him not to push, and he wouldn’t, but this was killing him.

She
smiled sadly. “Nick, I’m fine. I’ve been trying to adjust to the pregnancy and come down after the Met stuff.”

“No time to think about me. I understand.”

“That isn’t true. I can’t think about anything else.”

He cleared his throat. “Same here.”

“What are you doing for a job?”

“I’m still on the task force. But it’s a periodic thing. I’m, um, thinking about teaching a self-defense
course.”

“Where?”

“At the Baden Street Center. I’ve gone down a few times, not to see you, Lizzie, I promise. They had a tragedy there and they need all the support they can get.”

“I love that you’re there, helping them.”

“I did it for them, honestly, not to get into your good graces.”

“I believe you.”

“Well, that’s progress.” He didn’t trust himself not to pressure her
after her approval, so he leaned over and kissed her on the nose. “I’ve got to get away from you now. Take care of yourself.”

“I will, Nick. I promise.”

Leaving her was harder than quitting the police force, but he walked away. And from the pain in his chest, he thought it might just kill him.

All seven girls met at Magdalena’s favorite women’s clothing store in Manhattan
to pick out dresses for their mother’s wedding. They sat in the private room waiting for the consultant. Magdalena said, “Isn’t it funny?
Matka’s
the one having the fancy wedding.”

“Not so fancy,” Paulina said. “We each get to pick out our own cocktail dress. I think this is going to be chic.”

Nia turned to Elizabeita. “Excited about this, honey?”

“Totally.”

“Then why do you look
so sad?” This from Sofia.

Caterina stepped in. “It’s because of the Met stuff. It’s only been a couple of weeks. Let her be.”

“It’s all of that. And more.” She caught Nia’s and Paulina’s gazes. “Let’s concentrate on our mother today.”

Matka
was meeting them here. Elizabeita had been preoccupied, wondering if she’d gain weight by Thanksgiving. Probably not. At least Nia wasn’t having
a big wedding at Christmas she’d have to worry about, and Sofia’s would be small, too.

Their mother arrived and, after scouring dress catalogues, they decided on strapless dresses. That would give them the coordination they needed. Elizabeita picked a deep yellow. Size 10.

The saleswoman said. “We have that one in stock. You can model it for everyone.”

She pretended to be pleased,
because previous to now, she’d enjoyed being the center of attention. Soon, she was in the dressing room. When she disrobed, she examined her stomach. Totally flat. She patted it and whispered, “Things will be okay, baby.” She pulled the dress over her head and went to zip it up. “Damn. Damn it all.”

“What’s wrong?” Mags called out.

“Nothing.”

“Then come out show us.”

“Um…”

“Come on, Lizzie.”

Elizabeita walked out of the cubicle. The dress was pretty and would drape beautifully—if she could have zipped it past her lower back.

Magdalena frowned. “Your boobs are falling out of the top.”

“It probably runs small,” Nia suggested.

“Yeah.” From Paulina.

Ana angled her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Me, either.” This from Cat. She turned to the twins.
“And how is it you two, who’ve had babies, don’t recognize what this is?”

Elizabeita grasped the dress with one hand and put up her other hand, palm out. “Stop. I’m pregnant. About five or six weeks.”

Stunned silence. Then
Matka
rose and took Elizabeita into loving arms. “
Mia corka.
No one is angry you didn’t tell us.”

“I told Paulie and Nia.” She clung to her mother. “I couldn’t tell
the rest of you.”

“Why?”

“Because the father and I aren’t together.”

Silence.

“It wasn’t a one-night stand. I care about the guy.”

“So he’s in the picture?” Ana asked.

“Sort of. Yes. But it’s complicated.”

“Doesn’t he care about you, honey?”

“He says he does.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Magdalena asked.

Elizabeita stared at them. And for the first time,
she began to wonder what, really,
was
the problem?

Nick knew he couldn’t live for the monthly doctor’s appointments, so he started running every morning to get rid of the frustration of not being able to see Elizabeita more often. Today, dressed in heavy navy sweats due to a cold October front, he’d just gotten to the sidewalk when a man came up to the house. “You Nick Casella?”

“Yeah, I am.” The guy looked familiar. “And you are?”

The man’s answer was to raise his hand and punch Nick on the jaw so hard he fell back into the grass.

From the ground, Nick assessed the danger.

Then, unbelievably, the guy held out his hand to help him up. “There. Now that’s over with, we can talk.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Luke Ludzecky. You got my baby sister pregnant,
and I wanna know why you aren’t in the picture.”

To stall for time, Nick rubbed his jaw, then rolled to his feet. “Ask
her
, Luke. I want to be with her.”

“Yeah, what does that mean?”

“I want to marry her.” As soon as Nick said the words, he realized they were true. He hadn’t verbalized the thought yet, but now it crystalized in his head.

“You seem shocked at what you said.”

“I am, some.”

“You love her?”

“I guess I do.”

“What the hell kind of answer is that?”

“Give me a break. I just realized how I felt.”

“That’s fair. Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee. And don’t you dare do anything until you have my permission.”

Elizabeita arrived at the Baden Street Community Center to meet the people from an art school who were
dropping off old books. They hadn’t been able to come on Monday, her regular night there, so she’d agreed to meet on Wednesday, knowing, she admitted to herself, that Nick would be there. The kids had told her he’d offered the self-defense course, and many of them signed up. She didn’t analyze why she’d orchestrated this, she just went.

The gym area at the center was across from the rec room
where Elizabeita worked. The door was open and she stepped inside. A portable brown-and-orange partition blocked the view of the entrance, so she stepped behind and peered around it.

He was in the middle of the room, dressed in black sweatpants and a black T-shirt. The mere sight of him made her whole body go liquid. That was another side effect of pregnancy. Once she began to thaw out from
the past events, her body responded to just thinking of him. Now, seeing him in person, her reaction went off the Richter scale.

Seven kids stood before him, including Brandi. Elizabeita was shocked the girl had signed up. But then she remembered Nick’s utter gentleness with her the night she’d told them about Sammy. He’d driven her to the police station and they’d waited while Brandi gave
her statement. Dean Morris was called in and he’d let his friend do the rest, including giving Brandi a ride home. Nick had wanted to get Elizabeita out of there.

He addressed the teenagers. “The first thing you have to know is to always be aware of where you are. Stay alert. No head phones on when you’re walking somewhere. And when you’re alone in the city, carry keys, and keep them in your
hands. A sharp object could be your best line of self-defense.”

“My brother got some brass knuckles,” Marco told him. “What about those?”

“Brass knuckles are illegal. Try pepper spray, or a flashlight. Maybe the center can get some small noise-emitting devices. Light shone in a perp’s eyes, or loud sounds, might stop him long enough for you to run away. The next thing to remember is never
get in a car with the person who’s got hold of you. Do everything you can to prevent that, because percentages are you’ll never escape once inside a vehicle.”

“What should we do?”

“Scream…kick, bite…”

Elizabeita watched for a full half hour until she had to meet the art book people. Her heart, already wounded by their situation, thudded against her chest, protesting the loss of him.
She tried to remind herself why she was letting this wonderful man go. But her rationale had become fuzzy and she could no longer even articulate her reasons.

Nick could barely stand to be at the center. He’d thought teaching the course would distract him, but now, being with her kids, his loss of Elizabeita felt even more acute. Which he hadn’t thought was possible.

When the session ended, Brandi was the last one out. She stopped to talk to him. “Thanks, Mr. C. This was fun.”

“And helpful, I hope.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “You know Ms. Ludzecky pretty good, right?”

Oh, the irony. “Yep.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“She okay?” Hell. “As far as I know. Why?”

“She seems different.”

“It was tough for her deal with
Sammy threatening the Met, and by extension, her.” He took a bead on the young girl. “How are
you
?”

“I feel bad sometimes for narcing on the creep, but I didn’t want him to hurt her.”

“That was very brave of you.”

From the corner of the gym, Nick heard, “Hey, Brandi, come on, we gotta catch the bus.” Marco stood in the doorway.

“Where do you guys live?”

They told him.

“I’m going that way. I’ll take you home.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Brandi, you deserve a lot more than this for what you did for me.”

“For
you
?” “I mean, all of us at the museum. Come on, let’s go.”

Chapter 16

The psychologist, Carolyn Adams, answered the bell at her office door. “Hi, Elizabeita, nice to meet you.”

“You too. Ana speaks highly of you.”

Carolyn didn’t react.

“I know you can’t talk about her, or say you even see her, but we share a lot of things in our family, and that’s one she did tell us about. Thank you for helping her.”

“Those are kind words. You can choose any seat.”

Elizabeita took the couch. When she saw what was on the wall across from her, she was taken aback. “Oh, wow. There certainly is a plan in the universe.”

“Meaning?”

She gestured to the painting. “I work at the Met, in the Contemporary Art division. I’ve got a Dali/Picasso exhibit opening in two weeks. I’m a big fan of his work.”

The woman glanced briefly at the melting clock. “I have tickets to that exhibit.”

All business now, Elizabeita raised her chin. “So, I like to get straight to the point. Or points, in this case.”

“Start, then.”

“I’m here for two reasons. I’ve been a risk taker—dangerously so—all my life, for some pretty screwed-up reasons. I want to stop that behavior.”

“I understand.”

“And there’s a man. He’s maddening, and overbearing, and sweet and kind and good with kids.”

“Sounds like a lot of men.”

“I know. Everybody has positive and negative traits.” She took in a breath. “I’m also pregnant. With
his baby. I want to be with him, and I need help getting there.”