"Okay," he said, eyes never leaving the road. He arched his back and pressed his shoulders into the back of the seat. I watched as he clenched the top of the steering wheel with both hands. Hesitancy hung in the air. I focused on his face and waited. He inhaled deeply and with his exhale said, "I'm going to ask you the question I've wanted to ask for years. Would you go out with me sometime?"
"Yes."
***
The potholes kept pulling me back to reality. Each time the van jerked, my pain intensified. By the time we reached Julie's driveway, life was a total blur. Today confirmed my destiny.
CHAPTER 23
A Mall, An Accident, and Holiday Cheer
"Please remind me why I agreed to come here with you?" I asked Amy while mall noise assaulted my ears.
"You love me," she replied.
"Not enough for this," I quipped back as I jumped out of the path of a large woman toting a disgusting amount of shopping bags. Kelsey squealed in her stroller. Poor thing. The music, lights, and people must have looked overwhelming to her.
"Stop whining," Amy said. "You agreed to help me pick out a dress. Nothing I own fits since Kelsey was born. It's been almost two years, and I'm still moose woman."
"You're accusing me of being whiny? I bet every dress in your closet fits, and shopping is your sadistic way of punishing me for something."
Crazed human beings with empty expressions paraded all around us, lugging oversized bags containing clothes that wouldn't fit or gadgets that would be re-gifted next Christmas.
"Really Maggie, nothing fits and I need to look good at this party. Mark's boss, Ms. Nose-Up-In-The-Air, will give me the condescending face people make when they hear that you're a stay-at-home mom." Amy did this eye roll, nose up, neck tilt move. "After making the face, she'll courteously explain how she envies me, even though her son is getting an amazing education at his up-scale daycare center, which charges the same amount of tuition per semester as Pitt. Before excusing herself to go and talk to a person who has a real job, she'll smile her cheesy practiced too many times in the mirror smile, while battling her urge to pat my head." Amy pinched her lips together and did this little air patting motion. "You know--the same type of pat mothers all over the world give to toddlers when they finally piss in the potty. Last summer at the Firm's picnic, she gave me the look. I wanted to smack her," Amy ranted.
"You're just imagining it. Nowadays, being a stay-at-home mom is a respected occupation. Besides, you are so good at it," I replied. "I think you imagined 'the face' and the pat on the head stuff."
"Yeah, right," Amy said as she gazed off into the window of a high-end dress shop.
"You're an awesome mom. When Kelsey was a newborn, you showered and dressed in the morning. Most new mothers walk around half dazed wearing overstretched sweat clothes."
Amy's pace picked up and the wheels of the stroller started to spin faster. "And her dress--It will be flowery color. Last year, a lavender silk shift with sage pumps. Only she could make sage pumps match lavender. The year before, she glided into the restaurant thirty minutes late decked out in sunflower yellow. Who wears yellow to a Christmas party? Christmas party rules: red, green, basic black, or navy, not yellow. Stupid me made the mistake of complimenting her dress. Dumb move. She put on her phony smile and launched into an obviously prepared speech. 'Oh, this old thing. The Peterson case had me so busy last week, I didn't have a moment to run to Saks. I had to go closet shopping and found this rag.' The rag probably cost $1500. She's tall and thin. I was five months pregnant, a large five months pregnant."
I stopped walking. It was hard to think above the din of the Christmas crowd. "Amy, what's with the sudden insecurity? Lack of self-confidence is my department not yours. I always thought you liked Mark's boss. Cough it up. What's going on?"
The wheels of the stroller slowed and then stopped. Amy looked at me and thought for a moment. "I don't want to talk about it." Then she pushed full steam ahead.
"Hey," I yelled, trotting a few steps behind her. "Slow down, don't give Kelsey whiplash. She didn't do anything."
She slowed a bit and I finally reached her side. "Amy, please, you're my best friend. No secrets. Tell me, please, what the hell is wrong with you today? You freaked me out when you asked me to go to the mall. You hate this place as much as I do. Now, you let loose in a jealous rant. Spill it. I want the truth."
Amy's silence only amplified the mall noise: People arguing, babies crying, jingle bells blasting from mystery speakers, and the ringtones of hoards of cell phones. My brain began organizing a whopping headache.
"If you breathe this to your mother, I will kill you," she said. "I mean it. Not one word until I tell you it's okay. I haven't even told your brother yet. He's going to have a stroke."
"Amy, get to the point. I promise not to tell anyone."
"Let's sit down for a minute," she replied.
We walked over to a bench facing the Gap and Amy parked her stroller. She didn't sit down on the bench. She plopped with absolutely no muscle control exerted. Gravity put her on the bench.
The mall people ambled by as Burl Ives's rendition of "Frosty the Snowman" polluted the air. Amy lifted Kelsey out of the stroller, laid her across her lap with her bottom up. As she leaned forward, she stuck her nose into the baby's backside and quietly uttered, "No poopy."
Then, very softly, with eyes focused on the floor, she declared, "I'm pregnant, again."
My lungs sucked in a large amount of air as the rest of my torso unintentionally convulsed. "Oh, Amy, that's wonderful--I think?"
"Maggie," Amy said as her eyes began to water. "I don't know if it's wonderful or not, either. By my estimate, I'm about six weeks pregnant, and I haven't told your brother yet." She stopped talking to reach for a tissue in her purse. "Kelsey isn't even two yet. We'll have two in diapers, two in cribs, and two in college at the same time. Of course, we want another child, but they're supposed to be four years apart. Kelsey will only be two and a half when this baby is born. This totally screws up Mark's plan. And you know your brother when it comes to planning."
"Mark will be thrilled. He loves kids." Seeing the tears begin to overflow her eyes, I got up from the bench, grabbed the stroller, and started pushing it toward Macy's. "Put Kelsey back in the stroller, we need to find you one seriously hot dress. You can wear it when you break the news. He'll be too distracted to be upset."
For an hour, Amy modeled dresses for me and Kelsey. The final purchase turned out to be the most perfect "little black dress" and black stiletto sling back shoes. Amy was so thrilled that for a moment, I think that she forgot why she was buying it. The success of the runway show invigorated us enough to stand in the line to get a picture of Kelsey on Santa's lap. Like many toddlers, when it was her turn, she screamed her lungs out.
Amy did a little wiggle as she pushed the stroller, "Look out, office Christmas party, here I come. I wish someone would design shopping bags that can be attached to stroller handles. Tying these plastic ones on is annoying. They always come off." She smiled at me." I'll tell him after the Christmas party. He gets sappy after a few glasses of wine."
Christmas trees' twinkle lights sparkled from the shop windows. Holding Kelsey in my arms as we walked the mall corridor, I pointed out Santa Clauses and snowmen. With wide eyes and a big smile, she took in everything.
Even the air had a holiday smell. The fragrance of evergreen, spiced apple, and mulberry wafted from the candle stores. My grumpiness began to recede, and I found myself starting to enjoy the atmosphere. Amy loaded Kelsey back into the stroller and pushed toward the food court. "I can't wait for Christmas morning," she said. "Kelsey is old enough to enjoy it this year."
For a brief moment, my mind left the mall...
***
"Mom, how long do we have to sit in the waiting room? I want to go home and open presents," I whined.
"There won't be any presents until tonight, honey," my mom replied. "I gave Mark some money, and he's going to take you
to the gift shop and buy you a treat."
We stood in front of the hospital's automatic doors. As we talked, serious-looking people walked in and out.
"Are we going to stay here until nighttime again?" I asked, hoping her answer would be "No." I hated the hospital, with its ugly lobby full of vinyl-covered chairs and creepy checker board floor.
"Maggie, you know we have to spend time today with Grandma. She has to stay here in the hospital for Christmas Eve and Christmas day," my mom replied, and I could tell from her voice she was disappointed too.
"We were here yesterday and on Sunday. This place is boring. Yesterday, I counted the squares on the floor. Why can't we go up and sit in her room with you?"
"I told you ten times, Maggie. Kids aren't allowed on Grandma's floor. It's different than the other floors."
"I know. I know. But I still want to go home, and I don't want to come back tomorrow," I said as she turned and took her first step toward the elevator.
***
Amy was positively giddy over the dress. As we walked to the food court, she launched into an extremely exaggerated imitation of Mark's boss addressing the judge in a courtroom. Finally, I told her to stop before I wet my pants. After claiming an empty table near the Starbucks, she began digging through the baby bag for a bottle, and I lifted Kelsey from the stroller.
"I'll feed her," I said.
Looking grateful for the offer, Amy thrust the bottle to me. "Great, I'm going to the ladies' room before I explode. Be right back."
Kelsey sat on my lap, wrapped her tiny fingers around the bottle and contentedly sucked down the liquid...
***
"It runs in the family," Justin said. "We're all loony, you know."
"We are not," I retorted
"Maggie, my dad says that our whole family is crazy, and it comes from the Scottish side. My dad calls it bad blood."
"You're making this up, Justin. Just because you're in sixth grade doesn't make it okay to make up lies. If you think I'm stupid enough to believe you just because I'm in fifth grade, you're wrong."
"I'm not making it up, Maggie. I swear. My dad says that all the medicine that grandma takes is to keep her from acting crazy."
"Stop saying that, Justin. You're mean. Grandma is diabetic. She is not loony."
"Diabetic and loony," Justin claimed.
***
Kelsey continued to quietly enjoy her bottle. My mind wandered as her sweet little eyelids began to droop, my niece, my brother's daughter. Beautiful, perfect Kelsey. Please let her take after Amy's side.
A sense of dread attempted to creep into my head. Genetics. Who got the good genes and who got the bad ones? How did two average people produce a genius or two really ugly people spawn a beauty queen? It was just a crap shoot.
In our family, Mark got a good brain, good nose, and awful eyesight. I got a defective brain and flat feet. Gazing down at Kelsey, healthy, smart, and beautiful, I forced my brain to change the subject.
Amy returned to the table, carrying a slice of pizza and a coke. "Your turn. Go get something to eat."
"You eat," I said. "I'll finish feeding Kelsey. She's almost asleep now."
Amy devoured her pizza, and I placed Kelsey back into the stroller. "Some women get sick during their first trimester, but I eat like a pig," she said. "My mother said she was the same way. Maggie, go get something to eat," she mumbled through a pizza-stuffed mouth.
"I'm not really hungry," I replied. Amy's pregnancy was like her mother's. Please let this baby be like Amy. "Amy, do you ever worry about it?"
"About what?" she said with a facial question mark covering her features.
"Kelsey and what side of the family she is going to take after?"
"Of course, I do, Maggie. All mothers think about that stuff. I think she has your brother's eyes and my temper."
"That's not what I'm talking about. Do worry that she will be like me?"
Amy looked at me for a moment before speaking. "A lawyer? Yeah, I stress out about it constantly and how I'll handle my disappointment if she's not a doctor."
"You know what I mean. My brain. Do you worry about her inheriting the Hovis curse?"
"Go get a cup of coffee, Maggie. Then I'll answer your question."
As I stood in the Starbucks line, I looked back at the table. Amy rocked the stroller back and forth. I wasn't sure if it was to soothe Kelsey or to release her own nervous energy.
As soon as my latte hit the table she began. "I worry her heart will be broken when she doesn't make the soccer team, or what I'm going to say if she doesn't get into her first choice college. Everything keeps up me at night. Shit, Maggie, I'm a mom, and the list of what I worry about is never-ending. But to answer your question, Maggie, yes, I do worry about it. I wonder if she's bipolar, will she be like your dad or you or like Ella. Your dad got by and no one ever knew. Maybe his case was milder than yours, or maybe he just hid it better. He had a good life. Most of the time, he was happy."
"She could be like Ella," I replied.
"We know next to nothing about Ella. Yes, they put her in the mental hospital when she was still a kid, and she died there. We don't know anything about her illness. I'm sure that if she was still alive, she could be helped, like you. Ella was born at the wrong time."
"But I'm not fine, Amy. It takes a handful of pills every morning to keep me sane."
"Maggie, my mother needs a syringe full of insulin every day to keep her alive, and my aunt needs to be hooked up to a dialysis machine twice a week. It's no different to me."
"Amy, it is different. This disease is isolating. You can't see kidney problems or diabetes. I can't let people see a depressive episode. It would scare the shit out of them. Or hypomania, my favorite. I act like a cocaine addict mainlining espresso. Other than my family, I have to keep the world at arm's distance. I can't guarantee my ability to function normally."
"Maggie, I hate to tell you this, but you haven't crashed in over a year and by the looks of your apartment, no hypomania. You behave as normally as I do now."
I smiled. "Wait a minute. I no longer go on jealous rants. After your dramatic monologue outside of the Gap, I think that you should make an appointment with Dr. G."
"Ha, ha--But I will tell you this, If my children are bipolar, or if they are diabetic, they will be diagnosed and helped by the best doctors in this town. They will not suffer silently through a mental disease for years and years, and they won't collapse in a sugar coma before the diabetes is diagnosed."
"I don't know, Amy. Medicine doesn't help everyone. There is no way I would risk giving this shit to a child. I'm just not having any," I retorted.
"Thank goodness your parents didn't feel that way."
"Maybe it would have been better if they did," I said sharply.
"You're talking out your ass, Maggie. Think about it. What would you have told them? 'Hey future parents, if you let me be born, I'm going to have serious mental disorder. At times, it will cause me unbelievable pain and suffering. So please, adopt.'"
"That's not fair, Amy."
"Why is it not fair?" she asked.
"Because I'm already here. I didn't have a choice."
The look on her face scared me. Her eyes were more intense than I'd ever seen them as she stared me down. "No, you're not here. I'm giving you the choice. Pretend for a minute you're in their bedroom on the big night."
"That's gross, Amy."
"Shut up, Maggie. It's the big moment. You are only minutes away from being conceived. Tell them, Maggie. Tell your parents to stop or keep going. What would you pick, Maggie--life or no life?"
The sounds and sights of the mall pulled away, and Amy's voice became just an echo in my ears. It all erupted in front of me, Sam, Nick, the Jersey Shore, slumber parties with Steph, my dad teaching me to ride a bike, and then it switched to me hiding under my bed and sobbing, running home from class, the mental assaults, the coffee running down our kitchen wall. My life--the good and the bad playing out in m
ind's eye...
***
"I can't promise you Maggie, that your symptoms will be totally gone. This may make them less intense, but still there--" Dr. Graham said.
"I'll take less intense," I interrupted.
"Maggie, when you are symptom free for a year, it will be safe to say the drugs are working," he continued.
***
The harshness of Amy's voice brought me back to the mall. "Life or no life? Choose, Maggie."
Looking at the angel in the stroller and remembering the first time I held her in my arms caused the muscles in my throat to constrict. The word "Life," echoed in my ears.
Amy's eyes locked onto mine. "Then you damn well better start living it."
CHAPTER 24
Major Oops
Amy's lecture on living life to the fullest began in the food court and ended in her Mt. Lebanon driveway. She usually gave great advice, but today I tuned her out at the Carnegie exit of the Parkway. I preferred grappling with this particular subject alone.
She pulled the minivan into the garage and, before closing the garage door, invited me to stay for dinner. I kissed Kelsey and asked for a rain check, explaining the work piled on my desk needed to be completed by Monday morning. It was just a little lie. I did have work, and it was due on Monday, but the reason I declined had nothing to do with my job.
I climbed into my car and dug around in my purse, which was not going to win any organizational awards, for my phone. After Sam left and Justin made his Thanksgiving pronouncement, I convinced myself that work would be the center of my life. Now, the image of living a normal life with a husband, kids, house churned inside my stomach and sent nervous pulses through my body. I located my cell phone in a side zipper pocket that I usually don't use. Oh boy, my mind really was elsewhere today. I pulled it out of the purse and dialed.
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