One Pink Line (28 page)

I followed her into the bedroom as Grace’s aunts were left fighting over who would hold her next.

“Please,” she said, and tapped the bed next to her. “As you can see, this is quite emotional for me.” She reached in her pocket for a fresh Kleenex. “I was shocked to hear that Kevin had a child, and I was equally shocked to hear that he has not seen her or provided any support for you.”

Mrs. Hansen paused to wipe her nose before continuing. “But he is a grown man now, and he must make, and live with his decisions,” she nodded and looked me in the eyes. “He is fully aware of how his father and I feel about everything. Now, that being said, this gorgeous, perfect little angel is a true gift, and I want to thank you for having her…and for welcoming us into your home like this,” her voice was gentle and quiet. “If you will let me, I would like very much for us to stay in touch and be involved in her life as much as you feel comfortable with.”

“Mrs. Hansen…”

“Please call me Lynne, Nana Lynne.”

I wrapped my arms around her and we embraced. She was not an old woman, and she smelled like a million bucks. A combination of lavender and cinnamon. It was one of the most comforting moments I’d had in months. I was glad to have her in our lives.

We said goodbye and I promised to send pictures and updates as often as possible. Once they were safely out of the building, I sat on my couch and stared at the puppy with the lavender ears, contented. For the first time during this whole ordeal I felt my support system growing. And although I highly doubted I’d be calling Nana Lynne or her daughters to fly in and help me out, it was good to know that they’d always be out there.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

T
o celebrate Grace’s first birthday, my mother held a very girly dinner party in her honor. She’d filled her dining room with pink balloons, filled the kitchen island with pink desserts, and filled the bar with pink champagne. And besides my father, no boys allowed. The guests included about five of my mom’s close friends, Kendra, me, Keri and Taylor, who happened to be in town for work that weekend. After we opened gifts, and took about forty pictures of Grace’s introduction to butter-cream frosting, I put her to sleep at my parents’ house for the night, and headed back to the city with Taylor and Keri where we reconvened over a bottle of wine at my apartment. It was quite a treat for me.

“That’s awesome that your parents will keep her for the night,” Keri said.

“I know!” I agreed with enthusiasm. “My mom ordered a crib about a month ago, and it arrived just in time for Grace’s birthday.”

Taylor filled our glasses and gave me a funny look. “Have you talked to Ethan lately?”

“We exchange voicemails more then we talk lately, but I think we connected last Monday, or so. Why?”

“Well,” she paused, looking uncomfortable. “I heard that he was back with that girl, Robin, at his cousin’s wedding last night.” She dropped a bomb and studied my face.

“Heard from who?” I asked her, concerned.

“Andrew.”

I knew that Ethan and Andrew Harrington were both attending Ethan’s cousin’s wedding in Nantucket that weekend, but I certainly didn’t know anything about what Taylor was insinuating. “What exactly did Andrew tell you?”

She shifted her body, pointed her toes and leaned back against the base of my couch. I could sense her discomfort in relaying the information to me. “Andrew said that Robin was at the wedding, she was hanging on Ethan all night, and that they left together.”

My stomach turned, and I squinted my eyes. “When did you talk to Andrew?”

“He called me this morning, not specifically about that, but then he mentioned what happened with Ethan.”

Keri watched the whole conversation go down, and had a very worried look on her face. Since she and I spent eight, sometimes ten hours a day together, she knew pretty close to everything about me. Especially my insecurities about Ethan. “How can you be sure what happened from a third party account, from, whomever this Andrew person is?” she asked Taylor.

“Andrew is one of his best friends,” Taylor quickly responded in a tone that indicated there was no way he would have reported false information. Then she turned to me. “Syd, the only reason I’m telling you is because I thought you’d want to hear it from me, and not through the rumor mill,” she touched my knee. “Andrew also said that Robin and Ethan have been talking for weeks, and planned on hooking up at the wedding the whole time.”

I suddenly wanted to be alone, and wished both of them would leave so I could call Ethan and get to the bottom of this stupid news that Taylor chose to gift me on Grace’s birthday. Instead I grabbed a lemon bar from the tray of cookies Keri brought, and took the nonchalant approach.

“Ethan and I are friends, he’s free to do whatever or whomever he wants,” I said unconvincingly.

“No, he isn’t,” Taylor blurted. “He knows full well that you two are more than friends.”

“We’re really not, Tay. I mean, I would I love for us to be. But he hasn’t made any promises,” I told her, still trying to talk myself into believing what I was saying.

Taylor threw her hands up. “Well then, all is well,” she said sarcastically.

“Why are you trying to get me riled up about it?”

“I’m not, but I was really upset for you when Andrew told me that, and I feel like Ethan is leading you on. Isn’t he trying to get transferred here, for you?”

“Yes, but not for me.”

“What the hell for then? So he can hang out with you and get close to Grace, and then leave you for some cheese head?” Her eyes were looking for an answer.

“I have no idea, this is obviously the first I’ve heard of any of this, so I guess you should call Ethan and ask him.”

Keri shot Taylor a dirty look.

Taylor took a deep breath and smiled. “I’m sorry, Syd, I really was annoyed for you, and whether it’s based in truth or not you know I wouldn’t hesitate to tell you something like that,” she looked over at Keri, trying to justify shifting us all into downer mode. “Let’s not let it ruin what a great day this is, okay?”

“It’s fine, of course I would want to know something like that, and I will call Ethan tomorrow and see if he mentions anything.”

After the girls left, one of my few opportunities to sleep through the night was squashed by what Taylor had told me. I squirmed and twisted all night thinking about the one thing that hardly ever crossed my mind during those months; the thought of Ethan with another woman. Selfish as it might seem, my hope for our future together was so strong that it never occurred to me that he might be pacifying me as he bides his time, waiting for someone else. He was way too kind to ignore me, especially once I had Grace in my life. He knew how I’d struggled, and he would never have let himself fall out of our lives entirely. The thought of losing him made me nauseous.

My mom dropped Grace off around noon the next day, and rushed into the apartment. “Honey, she was a delight, an absolute angel from the gates of heaven, but I promised to meet Mrs. Cunningham at Fields today, and I’m about an hour late,” she said while handing the baby to me. “Did you get some rest?”

“Yes, thank you,” I lied to make her feel useful.

“Oh, good, glad we could help.”

It was time for Grace to eat, so I set her down, placed an empty bowl on the tray of her highchair for her to entertain herself with, and began to prepare her food. I was still so worked up about Ethan and Robin, that I could hardly form a rational thought, let alone decipher the directions for instant oatmeal, which I’d easily made fifty times prior to that moment. Grace was squealing and pointing frantically at a banana that was sitting out of her reach on the counter, but I didn’t have the energy to get it for her. Taylor’s report from Andrew had consumed me, and nothing could distract me from it. I left the kitchen in search of the phone.

Grace cried out from her highchair, begging to be set free, but I had no interest in her needs at that moment. Ethan didn’t owe me anything, and he certainly wasn’t going to play this pathetic game of house with me forever, but I never imagined I would react so violently to the thought of him getting back together with Robin. The left side of my stomach was cramping so hard that I had to lie on the couch in order to keep the pain at a minimum. Grace began to scream when I didn’t return, and was none too happy to be alone with no food in her bowl. I assumed the fetal position on my couch, and began to cry as soon as she turned up the volume and started to wail.

The only image in my head was that of Ethan and this woman. I’d never seen her, but I believed her to be tall, thin, stylish, and absent of any children or adolescent drama in her life. She probably had a great job, killer apartment…and surely she came from money. I could see his face, and his eyes looking into hers as they rekindled their love at his cousin’s wedding.

Grace flung her bowl and it hit the floor with a serious, CRACK! I’m guessing that’s exactly what she had intended, because I instinctively ran into the kitchen and released her from the three-point harness she’d been struggling with for twenty minutes.

“I’m sorry, baby, mommy’s here,” I said through my tears. Somehow her twelve-month old brain was able to sense my distress and she clammed up immediately. I handed her a bowl of dried Cheerios and she didn’t make a peep for the next thirty minutes while I came out of my freak session.

Ethan had said he would call me that weekend after the wedding, but by Sunday I still hadn’t heard from him. He was probably with Robin, wind blowing through their hair as they laughed in slow motion over a continental breakfast. I decided to call him at home and pretend I never talked to Taylor. His machine picked up.

“Hey, it’s me, just seeing if you survived the wedding. Call me later.”

It was seven o’clock when I left the message, and eleven o’clock when I went to bed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

M
onday morning, I dropped Grace at daycare and headed to work, with no word from Ethan. I had no intention of calling him again, and I hated going to work with something else weighing on my mind because it was nearly impossible to talk to people and pretend I gave a damn about their itchy towels.

I was eating lunch at my desk when he finally called me.

“This is Sydney, how can I help you,” I answered, even though Midge told us never to answer the phone while we were eating.

“How’s it going?” Ethan asked. “You at lunch?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” I was short with him.

“Nothing much, how was your weekend?”

“Uneventful,” I said curtly.

“Oh, I thought you had Grace’s party. How’d that go?”

“Fine.” I was a little surprised at the amount of sass in my voice, but I simply couldn’t help myself. Every girl I knew had played pouty and acted like nothing in the world was bothering them, when their tone and demeanor clearly indicated otherwise…and men knew all the signs like a driving test. They knew immediately to goad and prod, and find out what was wrong, despite the fact that they were being told everything’s peachy. Passive aggressive behavior had taken over my end of the conversation.

“You okay? You sound annoyed. Is it me or Midge?” he wondered.

“Neither.”

“Do you want to call me later?”

“Sure.”

“Bye, Syd.”

“Bye.”

I hung up the phone and felt worse after my ridiculous, childish behavior. I’d been waiting to hear from him for two days, and then I acted like an asshole when he finally called.