Not To Us (30 page)

This sickening sensation roils through me. I still don’t know the results of my own paternity test Lisa did before I took off. In my haste to escape yesterday, I neglected to ask her about it.

Emily starts calling my name and I pick up the pace, suddenly desperate to return to my family and get away from Carrie and her news which in some way eclipses my own.

I catch Michael’s eye as I return. He and Robert look a little tense and I wonder what’s been discussed while I’ve been walking the beach with Carrie. I can’t quite hide my own irritation with Carrie, with Michael, with everybody, all at once. The perfection of our reunion from earlier seems a distant memory in this moment.

“Momma,” Emily says impatiently from the edge of lawn. “Come back to me.” I try to smile at my six-year-old as she runs straight into my arms, but I look at Michael over her head and I know he senses my discontent.

After a few minutes, I make a point of going back in the house for more coffee. With a few minutes to myself, I grab my cell phone and call Lisa. “I need to know something,” I say without preamble.

“Nice to hear from you,” she says with a bitter laugh. “You fucking sneak out of my office and now I’m what? I’m supposed to take your call? Because you got your
stuff
done and now you
need
me?”

“Don’t Lisa,” I say in agitation. “The paternity test. The result. What was it?”

“
See
? This is what I’m talking about. If you would read your e-mail, you wouldn’t have to make these frantic phone calls and beg me for this kind of news. If you would just stay in one place long enough for me to tell you these things.” She sighs heavily.

“
Some friend
. I pick you up. I invite you to stay with us. Then, you ditch me. I’m just trying to
save
your life; this is the thanks I get.”

“You’re killin’ me,” I say.

“Well, ditto sweetheart. You’ve been gone for weeks. You had us worried sick.” Her voice rises. “And now you take a moment to call to ask for the
results
? Thanks so much.” Lisa’s wrath reaches at me through the phone.

“Can you…please…just be my one true friend for a fucking minute and not be pissed at me?” I stem the tears trying to make their way down my face by pressing my fingers to my eyes. The stress of it all catches up to me. I lean over the kitchen sink, allowing the tears to spill directly into it. “Please. I’m begging you.”

“Sorry,” Lisa says, contrite at once, when she hears my crying. “Is Carrie there, by chance?”

“Uh-huh.”

Michael comes into the kitchen. I turn away from him, making a point of filling the coffee maker with ground coffee, but spilling half of it as I go. I try to juggle the phone. “God damn it,” I say for a multitude of reasons.

“It’s Michael’s,” Lisa says softly. “It’s Michael’s. Your due date is early July. The 2
^nd
of July, I believe. I want to see you
tomorrow
.”

I take a shuddering breath, attempting to move air in and out of my lungs. “It’s Sunday,” I say with sudden exhaustion. “It’s Lisa,” I say to Michael avoiding his direct gaze, but see his questioning look.

“So what? Sunday’s as good a day as any to start chemo.”

I close my eyes. Some things never change, including my fears about chemotherapy.

“No chemo,” I say emphatically. I open my eyes. Michael is about a foot away from me. He moves in closer and traces the recent evidence of tears on my face. He looks anxious and unhappy.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Lisa says in her best don’t-fuck-with-my-plans voice. “Put Michael on.”

Wordlessly, I hand the phone to Michael. At the same time, he pulls me closer by putting his arm around me as if barring my escape before I can think about doing this.

“Lisa? What’s going on?” Michael asks.

There’s a long pause. He scrutinizes me closely and traces the blotches that must be on my face with his thumb. “Yes. Really,” he says flatly. He gets this worried look a few seconds later; then, it disappears.

“Okay,” he says with sigh. “Well, thanks for letting me know. Yeah, I can see that,” he says grimly. “All right; we’ll see you both tomorrow. One in the afternoon sounds good. Thanks.”

He ends the call and looks at me for a long minute.

“Carrie’s pregnant,” Michael says, uneasy. I silently nod. “It’s not mine. It has nothing to do with us,” he says to me now. “It has
nothing
to do with us, Ellie.”

“I never thought this would happen, any of this, not to us.” I know he can hear the desolation in my voice. Grief, loss, and this incredible sadness have found their way back to me.

He holds me closer. I can feel his fast heart rate. Yet, he says, “Everything’s going to be okay, Ellie.”

I frown at the incongruence of his words in comparison to his racing pulse. There’s this place deep inside that seems set up for self-preservation that isn’t quite ready to believe him.

“You don’t believe me, yet; do you?” Michael lifts up my chin and kisses me again. “That’s okay. I believe it enough for both of us. Everything is going to be all right.”

His steadfastness renews my spirits a little bit; enough to tell him what Lisa has just told me that he still doesn’t know. “Michael,” I say, taking his hand and putting it on my stomach where our child moves in an almost musical rhythm right now. “He’s ours.”

There’s a joyful moment when I tell him this that I bear witness to the elation that crosses his face. It’s remarkable. His blue eyes light up, while his smile becomes more definite and unbound from the strain and trauma of the past few months.

I stand on my tiptoes to reach him to feel his joy. I kiss him.

“Let’s tell the kids our news,” he says.

“Okay,” I say.

≈≈

Revealing that Michael and I are going to have a baby is met with bewilderment, not exactly the reaction I thought we would get from my offspring. Mathew gets this indignant look as if this all a bit too much. He shakes his head and moves away from me for the first time this afternoon. Finally, he says, “Aren’t you a little
old
to be having a baby, Mom?”

“Probably,” I say with an insecure smile.

I am old.
I feel old right this very minute. Mathew’s right. This is all wrong. I glance away from my teenage son and try to deal with the truth in what he’s saying and find solace in what I know to be real, but nothing really bubbles to the surface in terms of profound wisdom or understanding because I am a little old, kind of, but definitely with child.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that,” Mathew says. “It’s just…it’s a lot to take in with everything that’s happened to us.” I nod at him, too upset by his reaction to say more. Mathew steals a glance at Michael, then back at me. “I kind of figured something was up, when I first saw you.” He grins, and then nods. “I’m glad you told us.”

“Mathew, this doesn’t change anything,” Michael says. “We’re going to be a family. All of us. It’ll be different, but it’s going to be great.”

There’s this profound silence among the four of us. This is the moment, when Nick would normally jump in with one of his witty remarks and say something like, “Nice going, Ellen Kay” and make us all laugh. We all seem to experience his absence at the same time.

Then, Emily breaks the moment. “Well,” she says with a decided humph. “I’m
glad
because I’m won’t be the baby anymore around here; and you won’t be able to boss me around so much.” She looks directly at Mathew and gives him a dismissive wave of her little hand.

“Don’t be so sure,” Mathew says with a weary smile. He gets up, comes over to me, and kisses the top of my head. “Nice going, Ellen Kay, Michael,” he says with a sly grin.

He and his little sister effectively break the subtlety of grief trying to steal its way back into all of us, just as Robert and Carrie walk in. They’ve been outside, giving us a little private time with the kids.

“We’re going to have a baby,” Emily says to them and then twirls around a few times.

“Oh,” I say with a laugh. “I almost forgot. It’s a boy. Lisa and Stephen ran the tests for that.” Michael comes over. He puts his arms around my baby bump and hugs me from behind.

“I get to name him!” Emily says.

Michael, Mathew, and I say all at the same time, “No!” Everyone laughs.

My children stay near me the rest of the afternoon. I’m encircled in their love somehow insulated from Carrie and her news. Emily plays with her dolls near my feet, glancing up every so often to make sure that I’m still there. Mathew covertly watches me from the lawn chair right next to mine, his lanky long legs draped over it, staying close by and just listening, even in the midst of all the adult conversation.

I’m pleased by the camaraderie I witness between my children and Robert and Carrie. My absence may have served a singular purpose, bringing them closer together as a family. This is a positive thing to come about in such a disquieting desperate time. Michael stays close by as well, but my earlier jovial spirit begins to wane due to general exhaustion, time change, too little sleep from the night before, and the emotional turmoil of this afternoon. The conversation between the four of us becomes a little more forced once dinner is finished. It isn’t too long before

Robert gets up and says, “I’m tired. I imagine you are, too, Ellie.” He gives me a sympathetic smile, then looks over at Carrie. “Let’s go home.”

Carrie returns his gaze, but seems lost in her own little world of bliss for her secret: their baby. I almost feel sorry for Robert and what lies ahead in their evening together when Carrie announces she’s pregnant. Robert doesn’t enjoy surprises any more than I do. He likes to plan things out and surely this is an unplanned event.

Michael gets up as if on cue and goes to help Robert load up the car and help the kids pack up their stuff, again. My children look as surprised as Robert that they’re going back with him and Carrie.

“Your mom’s tired. She needs to get some rest,” Michael says by way of explanation to the kids and Robert. “We’ll see you guys later in the week after she sees Lisa. Okay?”

My children give me this imploring look as if to say,
do something mother
, but I don’t say anything. I’m unsure what Michael is up to, but I feel this need to be alone with him without any distractions and Emily and Mathew would most certainly be a distraction.

Our foray from the night before is vivid and fresh in my mind. I would like to further explore the newest physical part of our relationship, uninterrupted. I need to try and understand it; I have this desire to
feel
it. I cannot explain what has come over me.

As soon as Robert and Carrie’s car disappears up the driveway, I’m walking over to Michael and kissing him. He carries me up the stairs and we start again where we left off this morning.

≈≈

“I know what this is,” I say, playing with his fingers. Our bodies are intertwined with one another in the dark of the night. “This is day five of our marriage. We never got this far.”

“We never got a honeymoon, either.”

“True,” I say quietly.

“So, I’ve been thinking about that. I thought we could run a few tests tomorrow with the Chatham’s. See how things are with your bodacious tah tahs and then make some plans.”