by Amy Pine
Miriam rolled her eyes. “The whole class had the option to retake that test if they wanted.”
“So,” Gabi said. “That could have just been his cover so the class didn’t know about him and my mother. The point is, I don’t know them like I thought I did. What if that means I don’t know me and Ethan like I thought I did, either? What if I’m basically clueless about everything right when I thought I was starting to figure it all out?”
“It all as in…?”
“Life,” Gabi said.
Miriam shook her head. “First of all, darlin’, we’re twenty-two. We’re not supposed to have it figured out yet. Taylor Swift wrote a whole song about it. And from the looks of the we’re-having-a-baby situation your parents are in, I think they’re still figuring it out too.”
“Oh my God. My parents are having a baby.”
Miriam nodded. “Are you…upset about that?”
Gabi hadn’t actually processed the news, only that her parents had lied about it. If they were having a baby and her dad really was staying, it meant her mom wouldn’t be alone if Gabi left. It meant—based on the argument she’d overheard—that if her parents could get their heads out of their asses they might actually be happy together after twenty-plus years apart.
She shook her head. “Not about the baby. At least, I don’t think so. But about being shut out, yeah. Did they think I couldn’t handle it?”
Miriam narrowed her eyes. “You did bolt the second you found out.”
“Yeah, well maybe it’s how I found out. And knowing that Ethan was in on it too. And maybe—right now—feeling guilty that I’m still keeping something from him. I really am my parents, aren’t I?” She dropped her head against Miriam’s shoulder.
“Is that such a bad thing? They’re good people who love you. And as for Ethan? He knew for barely an hour or two. He found out just like you did—on accident—and your mom made him promise not to say anything because they were planning to tell you tonight. He’s good people too—who also loves you.” Miriam sighed. “I’m on your side no matter what. You know that, don’t you?”
Gabi straightened and nodded.
“Good. So here’s the deal. If you need space to figure this all out, I don’t blame you. Your almost-two-decades-divorced parents knocked boots and got accidentally knocked up. Again. So if you need to hop on the next train, we can do that. I’ll text everyone that I found you and that you’re okay but you just need a minute—or a day or two—to let everything sink in.”
Gabi wrinkled her nose. “Can we not talk about my parents knocking boots?”
Miriam laughed, but then her expression softened. “Or…What if you have been wrong about them all these years?” she asked. “I know that despite how much they both obviously love you, there is a small part of you that thinks you’re some sort of mistake that got between them. But what if—and this is just a theory—what if it’s not that we’re like our parents but that our parents are just like us?”
“What do you mean?” Gabi asked.
“Messy and clueless and still trying to figure life out but—like—older? It doesn’t bode well for us since I was hoping to know the meaning of life by the time I turned forty, but let’s just pretend for a second that no one really has the answer, no matter how old, and that some—like good old Alissa Adler and Matthew Bloom—might take a little longer to get it right than others?”
Gabi snagged the last part of the cookie just as Miriam reached for it. She hesitated for a second but then broke the last chunk in half, offering the second piece to her friend. “Seriously. I feel like a broken record, but when did you get so wise?”
Miriam shrugged. “My sagacity knows no bounds. But also, having sex instead of thinking about sex frees up some headspace for other things.”
Gabi laughed. “So true.” Then she cleared her throat. “Thank you for coming after me, Mir. Every time. I could not do this messy, clueless, figuring-life-out thing without you.”
Gabi pushed herself to her feet, then bent over to pick up what was left of the plate of sweets and extended a hand to her unsurprisingly wise best friend. Miriam took her hand and rose to her feet as well.
“To the train station? Or back home to face the mess?” she asked.
Gabi nodded. “If by mess you mean trying to see my parents as people and not just my parents, telling Ethan that I’m not ready to plant roots—professionally speaking, of course—in Chicago just yet, and wrapping my head around the fact I’m about to become a wife and big sister, then—”
“Don’t forget the three rabbis who will not be marrying you but who are now suddenly guests at your upcoming nuptials. That’s a little messy too, right?”
“Yeah,” Gabi said with chuckle. “That too.”
* * *
They finished the rest of the desserts by the time they made it back to Gabi’s childhood home, pausing just outside the front door so she could take a steadying breath.
“Ready?” Miriam asked.
“Nope. But I don’t want to run from it either.”
Before they could open the door, Grandma Ev pulled it open to greet them, her eyes narrowed.
“What?” Gabi asked. “What’s that look for?”
Evelyn Adler crossed her arms. “I swear you two are the same person sometimes.” She huffed out a breath. “Your mother and father had this big blowout after you left—something about him moving to Colorado or not moving to Colorado. I couldn’t keep track. I just shooed them all out of the house because they were upsetting the guests and now it seems your mother took off in her car and your father and your two boyfriends—whom you left stranded—in his.”
“Ethan left?” Gabi pulled her phone out of her bag, realizing it was on silent and she’d missed four calls from him in the time she’d been gone.
“Uh, Wonder Dick—I mean, T.J.—is not my boyfriend,” Miriam added.
Gabi looked at Miriam. “They’re all gone. What the hell do we do?”
In other words, how was Gabi supposed to stop running from her messy life if the second she got up the courage to face it, her messy life up and ran from her?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alissa needed air. She needed to clear her head. She needed to find her daughter. So what if Matthew, Ethan, and T.J. were doing the same thing? They couldn’t all go together. Not with Matt and Alissa in full nuclear meltdown.
Her heart hurt. Her back hurt. Even her ankle started to throb, which meant a storm was coming. Funny. She felt like she’d already been hit by a tsunami.
She took a shortcut to the train station, but there was no sign of Gabi or Miriam. She checked the public benches up and down Central Avenue but still no Gabi or Miriam. Slowly she idled up and down the local streets, squinting to try to make out whether or not a shape she saw in the dark was her daughter or a small tree—not realizing she’d drifted too close to the curb until she heard a loud thwak!
Alissa yelped, slammed on the brakes, and then yelped again when her seat belt locked and dug into her neck as she lurched forward. She threw the car in park, her heart racing, when she finally noticed the cause of said thwak. Her passenger-side mirror was dangling from where it used to be attached to the door—and the mailbox she’d inadvertently struck pitched far in the other direction, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa might look right before it hits the ground. She lowered her window to assess the damage and winced. At least it wasn’t a human. Silver lining?
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down to where it sat in her cup holder.
Mom: Gabi’s back. She’s fine. But now she’s worried about you.
Thunk! The mailbox hit the ground.
“And bye-bye Pisa,” she mumbled.
An hour later, after a humiliating knock on a neighbor’s door, Alissa trudged up her own front porch with her now detached side mirror in her hands. Her house was empty save for whoever was in the kitchen running the sink. She pushed through the saloon doors to find the one remaining Thanksgiving guest, her mother. Per
fect.
“You didn’t have to clean up,” Alissa said in greeting.
Her mom startled, slamming the sink off and turning to face her daughter.
“Is that—part of your car? Are you okay? What on earth happened?”
Alissa couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go toe-to-toe with her mother again. Not after fighting with Matthew. Not after literally losing her daughter. Her face crumpled, and the tears started to fall as she waited for Evelyn Adler to point out all the ways Alissa had messed up her life yet again.
Instead her mother rounded the kitchen island and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “It’s okay, honey. Shhh. Everything is going to be okay.”
Alissa melted into her mother’s arms, sniffling against her shoulder. “I made such a mess of things, Mom. Don’t you want to say I told you so?”
“No. I don’t.” Her mother rubbed a hand up and down Alissa’s back. “And for the record, my love for you has never been conditional. I just want you to want me in your life even if you don’t need me anymore.”
Alissa took a step back, shocked to find her own mother’s eyes glassy and about to leak all over her face. “Of course I want you in my life, Mom. I will always be grateful for how you and Dad helped out with Gabi, but sometimes it feels like you still don’t approve of my choices—whether it’s the way I do my hair or how and when I tell my daughter that her dad and I are having a baby. Unexpectedly. Again.”
Her mom raised her brows.
“Okay. Fine. I went about that second one all wrong, and it blew up in my face, but if I want to wear my hair in a messy bun, I’m gonna wear my hair in a messy bun. The point is, they are my choices, and I need to make them and learn from them, even if you think I’m doing it all wrong.”
Evelyn Adler skimmed her fingers along her daughter’s hairline, tugging softly on one of her auburn curls. “I just want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. You raised a wonderful daughter, and you started your own business. I couldn’t be more proud of you. But are you happy?”
A tearful laugh escaped Alissa’s lips. How much had she needed to hear those words, especially tonight after all that had gone down and while she was still holding her decapitated side mirror in her hand?
“Almost,” Alissa said. “But there’s something I have to do first.”
She strode back toward her bedroom, stopping just outside her door where a few pieces of computer paper lay scattered on the floor. She picked them up, recognizing them as the tickets Matt had given Gabi for the light installation at the garden.
She brought the tickets into her room, dropping them and the car mirror on her dresser before pulling out her phone to see one missed call from her daughter but no voicemail.
She tapped Gabi’s number to dial it back, but it went right to her outgoing message.
“Hey, Gabs. It’s me. Sorry I missed you. Actually, I’m sorry about a lot of things. Call me—when you’re ready. I’ll be here. Love you.”
She exhaled, then brought up Matt’s number, hitting the green button without any idea what she was going to say when he answered. If he answered.
“Come on. Come on. Come on. Pick up before I lose my nerve,” she said as she listened to the ringing.
“Hey—”
“Matt! Hi. You’re there. I…” But the voice on the other end kept going.
“…Matthew Bloom. Sorry I missed your call. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” There was a pause before the ever-familiar female voice continued. “At the tone, please record your message. When you’re finished, please hang up, or press one for more options.”
The beep sounded, and for a second she froze.
Are you happy? Her mother’s words replayed themselves in her mind. If Alissa let her fear take the wheel yet again, she might miss her last chance at being able to answer the question with a resounding Yes.
“Stay, Matt,” she blurted. “Don’t go to Colorado. Don’t go anywhere. Stay here, with me…and the baby. I—I love you. It’s Alissa, by the way. Just in case you get frequent calls from other pregnant women in love with you.” She winced. “Can you forget that last part? Yeah. Okay. Um…call me? Bye.”
She glanced up to see her mother standing just outside her door, biting back a grin.
“Very smooth, darling.”
Alissa collapsed onto her bed, not sure whether to laugh, cry, or die of mortification. And then, as if wanting in on the drama of the evening too, the baby began to dance or cartwheel or something inside her.
“Come here!” she said, motioning for her mom to enter the room. “Quick! The baby’s kicking!”
Evelyn Adler rushed to her daughter’s side. Alissa grabbed her hand and placed it on top of her belly, and her mother gasped. And right then, in that moment, Alissa was—without a doubt—happy.
* * *
The next night, Becca pulled into the crowded parking lot of the Chicago Botanic Garden but kept the engine running even after putting the car in park.
“Are you sure you want me in there with you?” she asked. “What if Matthew has some big grand I-love-you gesture planned and he’s like, Ew what is your sister doing here?”
Alissa laughed. “When have you ever heard Matthew say Ew? Also, these are Ethan’s directions. He texted and said to make sure I meet Gabi and Miriam with the tickets and that he and T.J. would already be inside. I’m not going to let ticket number four go to waste. Plus, Gabi hasn’t called me back yet, so I figured bringing her favorite aunt as a buffer would work in my favor—in case she’s still mad at me.”
“Gabi really likes me more than Sadie?”
Alissa scoffed, and Becca gasped.
“Oh my God!” she cried. “You’re so full of shit!”
“I mean…Well actually…” Alissa stammered. “She never specifically said those exact words, but she loves you, Bex. A lot. And I need you. Besides, what kind of grand gesture can Matt have in a public place, especially when I don’t even deserve one? I’m pretty sure my phone call last night was too little too late. Wouldn’t he have called me back otherwise?”
Becca sighed. “Look, you’re both idiots. But you’re two idiots who love each other and are having a baby. Again. If there’s a chance for something great this time around, he’s not going to let you go so easily. But you need to fight for him too, okay? Anything else is just settling, and you both deserve better than that.”
Alissa placed her hand over Becca’s, which was still gripping the steering wheel. “Bex, is everything okay? We never talked about what happened in your office last month, when I got upset and then you got upset. And now you’re talking about settling, and I’m not sure if you mean me and Matt or—or something else. Are you—happy?” She had always assumed her sister’s picture-perfect life came with the same picture-perfect happiness, but ever since Becca’s emotional unload during Alissa’s Halloween appointment, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
Becca waved her off. “What kind of question is that? Of course I’m happy. I have everything I ever wanted except one thing—to drink our spiked hot cocoas and see what’s so special about lights on trees.”
Alissa laughed, glancing down at the travel mugs in the center console’s cup holders. “Mine’s not spiked.”
“I know,” Becca said. “I put your shot in mine. You’re driving home.”
The two women bundled up—hats and gloves on, jackets zipped—and exited the vehicle, hot beverages in hand.
“Are you ready to face your daughter?” Alissa’s sister added.
Alissa met Becca’s eyes and nodded, but the word “No” came out of her mouth. “What if she hates me?”
“Not possible,” Becca said.
“What if she never trusts me again?”
Becca shrugged. “You’re going to have to earn that trust back. But never is a long time.”
“What if—”
“Enough,” Becca interrupted. “You’re going out there no matter what, right? So stop stalling and move it, pregnant lady
!”
Alissa glanced down at her snug-fitting puffer jacket, one she hadn’t dared to wear in Gabi’s presence since her belly had popped. But here she was—her secret on display—nothing to hide anymore.
Her pulse quickened as she pressed her gloved hands to her swelling middle.
“Okay,” she finally said. “I’m ready.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
There they are!” Miriam said, then waved at Gabi’s mom and aunt as they approached the garden’s main entrance.
“I feel nauseous,” Gabi said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have waited to talk to her and Ethan until now.” But when she called Ethan last night after finding him gone from her mom’s house, it hadn’t been the reconciliation she was hoping for.
“Ethan! Where are you? I’m sorry I ran off. I know you didn’t lie to me. Are you home? I have a lot I need to tell you.”
There had been a long pause and then finally, “What? Gabs—I’m sorry. I can’t hear you. Your dad took me and T.J. to this bar and—Are you okay? Can you stay at Miriam’s?”
Miriam nudged her shoulder with her own. “Maybe he and T.J. and your dad shouldn’t have gotten shitfaced last night. Wonder Dick said the old man crashed on their floor. That must have been a pretty sight this morning.”
“Where is he, by the way? Did my dad get extra tickets for him and T.J.? I feel like I should have asked more questions rather than let you drag me here for who knows what.”
Miriam groaned, then blew her overgrown pink bangs—hanging out from her knit cap—out of her eyes.
“I did not drag you here. You wanted to face your messy life in person—not over text or phone—so here we are, facing mess number one. You and your mom.”
“What do I say?” Gabi asked as the two women approached. And then when they were close enough to see—to really see—she simply said, “Oh my God.” Because how had she missed it? Her mom’s boobs had, like, doubled in size soon after Gabi got home in the summer. And now her round belly strained against her jacket when last night Gabi hadn’t noticed a thing.