Maybe Never (9 page)

“I want him to be excited about the wedding. And he’s just not,” Tracy said shrugging.

“Men are never excited about weddings,” Riley said. “At best they endure them.”

“
Your
man was,” Tracy pointed out. “I almost threw up, it was so sweet. And that was back when I couldn’t stand him.”

Riley laughed. “Well you shouldn’t use Shawn as an example,” she said. “Because there is no other man like mine in all the world.”

Tracy rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. I’m feeling that urge to vomit all over again.”

“That’s just the morning sickness.”

Tracy rubbed her belly, which was still close to flat even though she was at fourteen weeks. It felt firm, and had yet to develop that nice round bump. Surprising herself, she was looking forward to that, the day when she started to show. At first the idea of having a bump on her wedding day was unwelcome, but her dress had such a full skirt that no one would notice. And maybe when she started to show, Brendan would get excited about it. Right now he was the same way about the pregnancy as he was about the wedding—politely inquisitive, but largely disengaged.

How’re feeling today?

Do you want me to bring you something from the kitchen?

You sure you shouldn’t be taking it easy? Sit down a while.

All of it with the right tone of concern and attentiveness, but none of it sounding particularly heartfelt. The only genuine moment that Tracy could recall came a few nights ago when he came in much later than usual. It had to have been almost eleven, and she was in bed with all the lights off. Tracy pretended to sleep, listening as Brendan undressed, went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. She remained still when he got under the covers next to her and modulated her breathing so that he wouldn’t detect that she had been awake all this time, wondering when he would get home.

Lying there on her back she waited for Brendan to pull her against him, but this time he didn’t. Instead he slid one of his large hands over her abdomen, lightly caressing it.

Tracy held her breath, the sensation both moving and exciting her. But it was what he did next that really got her. Brendan pulled down the covers, slowly as though trying not to wake her, and oh-so-gently pressed his lips to her stomach.

That was the first sign she’d gotten that maybe she wasn’t celebrating this pregnancy all on her own after all. To avoid bursting out into tears then and there, Tracy sighed, pretending to turn in her sleep. And that was when Brendan had pulled her close the way he always did. The moment was gone so quickly, but it was the one she returned to over and over again in her mind for refuge when, like now, she wondered whether she was in this thing all by herself.

“I put the first ultrasound photo in a frame for him and y’know what he said?”

“What?”

“
Thank you
.”

Riley shrugged.

“No, you don’t get it. He said ‘thank you’ like I’d just given him cufflinks or something.”

Tracy pulled Cassidy’s little socks off her feet and kissed each one in turn, thinking it impossible that she could love her baby more than she did Riley’s two.

Could that amount of love even be
possible
?

She couldn’t wait to find out. Those were the kinds of things she wanted to talk to Brendan about. But Brendan wasn’t talking.

“What should he have done? Clutched it to his chest and started crying?”

“Yes, Riley. That’s what he should have done,” Tracy said.

“Tracy, you’re setting him up with all these crazy expectations. It’s all new to him, too. For years, this is a man who didn’t even have
girlfriends
. Now he’s about to . . .”

“Riley, he’s almost thirty-five. Stop giving Brendan a pass for behaving like an infant for the last eight years of his life. Sometimes I wonder if you’re even on my side!”

“There are no sides! I love you both . . .”

“If you say equally, I swear to God I’ll scream,” Tracy threatened. “You’re not supposed to love us
equally
, you’re supposed to love me
more
.”

Riley let her head fall back and looked up at the sky. “You are just . . . insane,” she muttered.

“No. I’m not. If it ever comes to that, Riley, I expect you to be squarely on
my
team.”

Tracy looked at her and Riley, seeing that she was serious, reached out grabbed her thigh, squeezing it.

“Of course.”

Tracy sighed. “Good.”

Driving back from Shawn and Riley’s, they usually passed the time marveling for the hundredth time about how changed their friends’ lives were. Shawn, who used to be a maverick rapper, was now still blazing his own path, but only now it was by getting more involved in political and social causes, coming out with progressive positions once unheard of in the hip-hop community, like being in favor of gay rights. And Riley, who once wanted nothing more than to be a force to be reckoned with in the publishing world, was increasingly content with leaving management of her publication to her capable staff while she spent more time at home with her young kids.

To Tracy it seemed that their friends were on almost the third reinvention of their lives while she and Brendan remained stagnant.

“I had an idea about the wedding,” she said, breaking the silence in the car.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Brendan sounded distracted. But he always did lately.

“We should write our own vows. More couples these days are . . .”

“Tracy,” Brendan sighed.

“It’s more personal that way. And it’s the latest thing . . .”

“I don’t care about the latest thing. We have the latest in this, that and the other . . . why don’t we just get this . . .” he stopped abruptly.

“Over with,” Tracy finished for him, feeling a pang in her chest. “That’s where you were going with that sentence, right?”

“All I’m saying is we’re getting married in a month. Why heap on ‘homework’ on top of everything else? Now we have to write vows on a deadline?”

“I wouldn’t have any trouble thinking of things to say to you at the altar,” Tracy said carefully. She looked at him but Brendan kept his eyes firmly on the road. “If you woke me up in the middle of the night, I would know what to say. Why, would
you
have trouble thinking of what to say to
me
?”

Brendan didn’t answer for a moment then finally sighed. “Okay, Tracy, we’ll write our own vows.”

“You’re saying that just to shut me up.”

“No, I’m saying that because if it’s what you want, we can do it.”

“Brendan, are you . . .”

She stopped and he looked at her.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he had doubts. Considering that he might not want this, or want her as much as she did him was frightening. But not as frightening as giving him an out would have been, doing the ‘noble’ thing and telling him that he didn’t have to marry her just because she was pregnant.

“Am I what?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Something’s on your mind, so tell me.” He sounded irritable, exhausted.

“You’re doing the vows because I want them. You’re doing everything I want . . .”

“And that’s the problem?” Brendan snapped. “That I’m doing
exactly
what you want?”

Tracy pulled back, surprised at the vehemence of his tone.

“You haven’t even expressed a preference for the meal we’re going to eat at the reception. The color of the boutonnieres. Nothing.”

“Because the wedding is your territory, Tracy.”

“I’m not marrying myself,” Tracy said, her voice shaking. “Although it almost feels that way.”

“What were you and Riley talking about all afternoon? You two have a way of getting each other all worked up.”

“It has nothing to do with what Riley and I were talking about. It has to do with you being so damned . . . cooperative lately.”

Brendan barked out a surprised laugh. “Oh that’s just great.”

“It’s like you say yes to shut me up, like you can’t even stand to talk about the wedding, so you agree to everything . . .”

“Because I don’t give a shit about the wedding if you want to know the God’s honest truth!”

If he had turned and punched her in the stomach, she could not have been more surprised. And it would have hurt much less. Tracy blinked back the tears that seemed to come out of nowhere.

Brendan looked at her and heaved a deep sigh, reaching out a hand to grab her thigh. Tracy brushed it aside, moving as far away from him as she could manage in the confines of the car.

“Tracy, what I mean is . . .”

“Shut up,” she warned. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say right now.”

Back at the apartment, Tracy headed straight for the bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed dialed Russell’s number. Brendan entered behind her, standing in front of her while she talked.

“Hey,” Tracy said when Russell answered. “Are you in town?”

“Yeah. Downtown. What’s up?”

“I want you to come get me,” she said. She could feel the tears about to start, but she wouldn’t do it. Not with Brendan standing there.

“Okay. But what’s up?”

“I’ll tell you later. How long?”

“I can get in a cab. Be there in a half hour,” Russell offered. “But what’s . . .”

“Okay, do that. I’ll be out front.” Tracy ended the call and stood. Brendan was directly in front of her. They were inches apart. She refused to look up at his face.

“Get out of my way,” she said calmly.

“No. Tracy, look . . .”

“That’s the most hurtful thing you’ve ever said to me, Brendan.”

“I didn’t mean . . .”

“Is there some other interpretation to ‘I don’t give a shit about the wedding’? Because if there is, I’d love to hear it.”

Brendan ran a hand over his head sighing. “You’re a like whirling dervish lately. With the flowers and the music and the place settings and the menus . . . I feel like there’s nothing else in the universe for you right now. I don’t even . . .”

“Well forgive me for thinking this might be an important occasion.”

“This isn’t about a wedding, Tracy. This is about us starting a
marriage
. Do you even get that? In between all the planning and preparation, is that even sinking in for you?” Brendan demanded.

At that Tracy did look up at him. He looked almost frantic,
panicked
. It was there again, the question she feared asking, almost forcing itself out between her lips. But she still could not make herself ask it, at least not directly.

“Only you could do this,” Brendan said almost to himself. “Turn a day that started out cool into a . . .”

“I’m sorry I’m so unmanageable!” Tracy said, pushing past him and grabbing her purse.

Brendan grabbed her arm, and pulled her back toward him so her chest was pressed against his. “You
are
unmanageable. The worst goddamned brat I ever met in my life . . .”

Tracy tried to stop the trembling of her lower lip and looked down at Brendan’s hand with its viselike grip on her arm.

“Don’t go pulling any crazy shit like disappearing on me, Tracy. Not in your condition. I don’t want to have to come looking for you.”

And she wanted nothing more than to make things difficult for him. To make him worried, to make him
desperate
. But he was right. She was pregnant and it would be selfish, so she nodded, wrenched her arm free and left the apartment.

________

Decision

“Come on back, Ms. Emerson. He’s not here at the moment, but he should return shortly.”

Brett smiled as Tracy entered the reception area to Brendan’s office, and Tracy even managed to smile back though she felt like hell.

She’d left the apartment that Saturday and gone out with Russell, then she’d gone to Brooklyn and had been there ever since. Keeping her word, she’d called Brendan to let him know where she would be but he hadn’t tried to talk her out of it, and he hadn’t come to get her. So Tracy went on with the wedding-planning from the townhouse, calling his mother and Riley, making decisions without asking him.

More than a week had gone by now since they’d slept under the same roof and since they’d even seen each other. Brendan called every evening, around the time he knew she would be turning in, asking how she felt, whether she’d activated on the alarm system, if she needed anything. But he didn’t offer to come, nor did he suggest she come back to the apartment.

Each night only worsened the gnawing feeling in her gut and Tracy wanted to scream sometimes just to break the awful silence. Getting comfortable in the bed, which seemed way too large and much too cold, was difficult. Every evening she spent a few restless minutes rearranging the pillows, trying to get them in some semblance of a formation that mimicked the feeling of Brendan next to her.

But it wasn’t the same; not even close, because Brendan was what people called a ‘bad sleeper’. That didn’t mean he slept poorly; on the contrary, he slept very well and with complete abandon, moving about and changing positions all night long. He alternately wrapped his arms about her, or pulled her close so her head was on his chest; or he might put his head on her abdomen, or ease a knee between her thighs.

And once or twice Tracy had even sleepily opened her eyes, feeling his hands moving on her breasts or between her legs, thinking he was awake and wanting to get something going, but surprised to find that he was completely and fully asleep.

The quiet, and the absence of his energy and weight beside her had become almost unbearable. So she stopped by his office. Just for lunch. Just to see him. But once Brett ushered her back, she was alone and Tracy heaved a disappointed sigh. All the way over in the cab she’d been anxious, excited even. Glancing at her watch she realized that she would have to head back soon to make her two-thirty meeting.

For a moment, she sat in his large chair, remembering how he’d wrapped his arms about her waist the last time she was here and sat in his lap. Tracy felt herself settle against him, her entire body going soft, melting into his; Brendan’s hugs were like no one else’s in this world. But this was pathetic, sitting here in his office, in his chair, waiting for him. He knew where to find her if he wanted her, and evidently he didn’t want to.