One Last Lie (18 page)

Jonathan looked to the floor, shaking his head. “No, there’s no regret at all. I just didn’t know the constant calling would happen
before
the baby was born. I mean, there’s really no good reason for her to call so often. She’s either complaining about morning sickness or bellyaching that the hospital keeps reprimanding her for coming in late.” Jonathan walked to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle, the fire warming the small patch of exposed abdomen where his shirt came up. “If she called to tell us she was bleeding and needed help, that’s one thing. But I don’t need to hear about how many times per day she pukes. We’ll all have enough things to deal with once the baby is born. This stuff is just ridiculous.”

“She’s a woman, Jonny,” said Philip, ambling toward the telephone. “We both know what that means as far as hormones go. And the chemicals in her body are going haywire. Let’s give everything a chance to settle down and then see how she does.”

Jonathan rubbed his abdomen, trying to spread the warmth of the fire across his entire stomach. “And once we’re done helping her, we’ll get back to where we were.” He closed his eyes, determined not to allow his neuroses to influence his emotions, especially where Angela was concerned. She’d been kind and sweet since the day they met. He and Philip had already discussed that they would probably be her only friends for awhile and needed to accept that responsibility. But in view of her independence and strength over the year they’d gotten to know each other, he expected her to show more self-reliance. Maybe it
was
her hormones and things would get better after they settled down. He crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping regret wasn’t going to rear its ugly head before the baby was even born.

“With the way Angela’s been acting,” he announced, “I bet it’s a girl. Two girls in one body can definitely create this kind of havoc.”

Philip laughed and moved toward the phone. “We can always find out what the baby’s sex is. You sure you want it to be a surprise?”

“I really don’t need to know. I don’t want to deal with any of my demented preconceptions. Plus keeping it a surprise is cool.” He followed Philip to the phone and leaned on the console table. “Anyway, Angela said she’d wait with us to find out. There’s no way she’d go behind our backs. I think she’s better than that. Now we’ll all find out together on the
big day.
”

“Whatever you want, my love.” Philip pressed the speakerphone button and speed-dialed Angela. “It’s time to call her back.”

“Hello?” Angela’s voice was almost inaudible. Philip and Jonathan looked at each other, aware of the fact she’d been crying.

“Angie, it’s us. What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Phillip sipped his lukewarm coffee.

“I’m sorry,” she said, clearing her throat. She was on speakerphone and they could hear her walking across the hardwood floor. “I know I’ve been calling a lot. But this snow took me by surprise and I’m not sure what to do. I don’t think I even have a shovel. What if I need to leave? What if there’s an emergency? How do I get out of here?”

Put off by Angela’s tone, Jonathan furrowed his forehead. Her questions sounded more accusatory than fear-induced, as though Philip should have thought of this situation and taken steps to make sure it never reached this point. He looked at Philip, awaiting acknowledgement and silent understanding. . But Philip kept his eyes on the phone.

“No need to worry, Angie. I’ll call D’Antonio. They’re the guys who remove our snow, but I’ll have them come to your house first. Does that work?”

“That would be great, Philip. Thank you so much. Will you and Jonathan be coming, too?”

This time Philip looked at Jonathan and shrugged his shoulders. Obviously Philip had no idea how to answer. Jonathan walked toward the phone.

“Hey, Angie. It’s Jonathan,” he said, trying to display a bit of sternness without sounding too harsh.

“Hi, Jonny,” she whimpered.

An image of Angela’s head on a deer’s body, staring into headlights flashed through his mind. He tried to shake it. “What else is going on? Is there something you need us to be there for?”

A few seconds of silence, clomping, and then the rustling of the phone against her shoulder. “No.”

Jonathan gazed at Philip who stared back, expressionless. It was too early in this relationship with Angela for Jonathan to be overwhelmed with emotion, he knew that, and he also interpreted the lack of expression on Philip’s face to mean he was thinking the same thing.

But why was she being so childish? How did this secure, autonomous woman suddenly become so needy? Was it really just hormones?
Jonathan felt a wave of suspicion, the same feelings he’d suppressed on the night Angela entered his life.

“Sure, we’ll come over,” he blurted. “We’ll take a nice walk in the snow with you. It’ll do us all good.”

“That’s a great idea!” Angela shouted. “I’m going to get ready right now. When will you be here?”

Before Jonathan could respond, Philip chimed in. “Give us an hour. We have something to take care of first,” he half-whispered, the gleam in his eyes and mischievous grin telling Jonathan what that “something” was going to be.

“Okay, but hurry up! And can you bring donuts? The baby and I are starving over here!” She hung up the phone, leaving dead air and another errand for them to run.

“Donuts?” Jonathan shook his head. “What happened to the healthy meal schedule we spent hours going over with her? Remember? ‘This baby gets no sugar and no hydrogenated fat.’ Those were
her
words.”

Philip walked over to Jonathan, took his hand, and gently led him toward the bedroom. “Yeah, and that meal schedule was your idea. Now let it go. It’s a snowy Sunday and we’re all allowed to splurge.” With those words he pushed Jonathan against the bedroom door and brushed his tongue over Jonathan’s top lip.

“Now, getting back to where we were...”

*

By the time they pulled the four-wheeler up to Angela’s house, D’Antonio had already cleared the driveway, the walkway leading up to her stoop, and the entire porch. Piles of snow lined the shoveled paths and Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully the cleared trail would help make Angela happy, at least happier than she sounded on the phone.

“We’re lucky it didn’t snow too much,” Jonathan said, placing the styrofoam coffee cups on top of the donut box. “Otherwise we’d be stuck in the warm house in front of a cozy fire, having sex and enjoying the day together.”

Philip laughed. “Yeah, we’re
so
lucky.” He saw a figure standing behind the storm door glass and squinted. “Uh oh, she looks a little pissed off.”

“Screw her,” said Jonathan. “She’s lucky we’re here… and with saturated fat, too.”

“Well, we
are
an hour late, Jonny.” Philip shut off the ignition.

Jonathan removed his glove and raked his fingers through Philip’s hair. “That’s not my fault. You’re the one who kept making me…”

“Okay, okay. It’s my fault.” He opened the car door and climbed out. “Not that you were fighting back.” He slammed the door shut before Jonathan could answer.

With every step Philip took up the walkway, Jonathan watched the white haze of residual snow turn black beneath his boots. His loose jeans were tucked into untied Timberlands, flaunting his sculptured butt and thick legs. Jonathan realized they’d left the house too soon.
We still have unfinished business.

Angela remained motionless behind the glass storm door, even after Philip walked up the steps and reached the door. From inside the car, Jonathan watched Philip’s head and arms moving and felt his muffled voice vibrate against the car window. Still inside the car, he opened the door slightly to hear the conversation.

“But I’ve been waiting for you for over an hour, Philip. You promised you’d be here.” Angela sounded like a spoiled child who didn’t get the bicycle she wanted for Christmas.

“I know, Angie. I’m sorry. Like I said, we got held up at the house with all the snow and everything. Cut us a break, okay?”

Jonathan listened carefully. There was no response from Angela and he knew he had to help Philip appease her.
Hormones, my ass. She’s nuts
. He jumped out of the SUV and slammed the door behind him, hoping coffee and donuts would help bring her back to earth.

“Hey, look what I have!” Jonathan yelled, trudging up to the door. “I have your coffee just the way you like it and a jelly-filled donut with…”

Stunned by the sight at the door, his initial reflex was to stop talking mid-sentence in order to process what he was seeing. Through the storm door glass stood a woman who resembled Angela, although she was twice the size of the Angela he’d seen only two weeks before. It was as though her face had been widened, stretched side-to-side, along with hips that swelled through the red sweat pants. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, exposing swollen eyes and a pale, round face that, for the first time since Jonathan had known her, did not have an iota of makeup.

He swallowed hard, uncertain of his next move. He looked down at the coffee and donuts and wondered if he should inflict more calories on someone who’d obviously been satisfying all of her pregnancy cravings. Angela was not going to be one of those women who carried gracefully; an expectant mother s who “glowed” through the entire process. If Angela was the size of half a house after only four months of pregnancy, she’d be a full condo complex by the time all was said and done. His first reaction was selfish, embarrassed by the fact that the mother of his child was so big, her lovely face hidden by roles of flesh. He was also concerned about the health of his child, imagining this high-speed path toward obesity had to result from chocolate, cookies, cake and other saturated fats.

His second reaction was pity; she was becoming the woman she used to be, Philip’s corpulent, affected friend from college — the disturbed woman with unruly emotions and an unmanageable appetite.
Did she know this was going to happen? Did she plan on getting fat again? Was getting pregnant an excuse for her to eat like a starving elephant?

Jonathan looked at Philip, who offered a tiny smile and rolled his eyes. Jonathan forced a smile back. Between the madness of both he and Angela, a sudden fear hit him head on: this child didn’t stand a chance.

“I’m sorry,” Angela said. “I know I look like crap. I’ve had a bad morning and didn’t remember to put on makeup. Please come in.” She held the door open and took a coffee cup from Jonathan as he passed. “Did I hear you say something about jelly?”

Still choked up from the onslaught of unhinged thinking, Jonathan nodded his head and walked toward the dining room table. He scanned the room, appalled by blouses hanging over the back of the sofa, plates of half eaten food, and shoes lying lace-side down as though they’d been thrown off her feet like a five-year old. When he entered the kitchen, his stomach tightened: a stack of dishes teetered in the sink, and a track of more dirty plates and pizza boxes lined the counter.

He closed his eyes. Yes, he was a bit overzealous when it came to cleanliness, maybe a little obsessive. But this house had become a pig sty. It was unimaginable to him that someone like Angela, who seemed so orderly, would allow things to get away from her like this.

Something must have happened. Something’s wrong with the baby and she’s not telling us.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, lightly placing the donuts onto the table and turning toward Angela. “What is it? What’s wrong with the baby?”

Angela looked at Jonathan, her swollen eyes widening, getting darker by the second. She turned to Philip.

“What’s he talking about?” She zeroed in on the donut box and lifted the cardboard cover. Her eyes scanned the box like a lioness stalking its prey.

“I’m not sure,” Philip replied, looking at Jonathan quizzically. “What do you mean, Jonny? Why would there be something wrong with the baby?”

Now he was in trouble, and the less he said the better. “I don’t know, just letting my imagination run wild, as it always does. Sorry.”

His words didn’t matter, because Angela’s mouth was buried in a mountain of powdered sugar, surrounded by gushing blobs of red jelly. Judging by the look of pleasure on her face, he realized he could tell her the house was on fire and she’d just close her eyes and smile with delight.

“No worries, Jonny,” Philip said, flicking his head toward Angela.

He draped his coat over the dining room chair and rubbed his hands together. “How ‘bout we help you clean up a little before we go for our walk?”

Angela grabbed a filthy dishtowel from on the table and brought it to her mouth in an attempt to stop jelly from falling onto her lap. “Thanks, Philip. That would be great.” She swallowed hard. “I haven’t had a chance to clean.” She leaned back and patted her stomach. “This boy’s been keeping me up day and night.”

With a stack of dishes in his hands, Jonathan stopped in his tracks and jerked his head toward Philip.

Philip, stood completely still. He inhaled deeply, taking in the breath he always used to help compose himself.

“Angela.” Philip placed the tips of his fingers on the table and leaned toward her. . “What do you mean ‘this boy’ has been keeping you up?” He blinked his eyes slowly. “Or are you just making a guess?”

Angela smirked as she licked the powder from her fingertips and gazed at the donut box. “No, it’s not a guess. I stopped by Dr. Jarrett’s yesterday to talk with her about my morning sickness. I mean, I’m four months already and I don’t think I should still be sick every morning. So while I was there I told her I didn’t want the sex of the baby to be a surprise anymore. She said morning sickness in the fourth month is normal for some…”

“Did you ask her if women with morning sickness should eat three donuts in less than five minutes?” Jonathan interrupted, hands still full of dishes.