by M. Ullrich
“Okay.” Marty shook her queasiness off and kissed her before moving back enough to let the staff work.
Marty found it difficult to stand back and be an onlooker as several sets of hands manipulated Suzanne. Various items went into her pale skin and came back out, other objects went in and would stay until after the baby was born. To Marty, Suzanne was the most fragile, special thing on earth, and watching her be handled in such a way set her on edge. She tapped her right foot and kept her fists clenched at her side. Finally, twenty long minutes later, the pain had left the blonde’s features.
“You’re doing great,” Marty whispered to her.
“I know.” The response came quickly, but the words were sluggish. Hours on a roller coaster of pain and being pumped full of medications was beginning to take its toll on Suzanne. Marty heard the snap of rubber gloves.
“Ladies, it’s show time. You’re just about nine centimeters dilated, and the baby is descending. Let’s push.” Dr. Reynolds sat on a stool at the end of the delivery bed and moved into position. “This won’t be comfortable for either of you,” he said in a calm tone, but that didn’t keep Marty from tightening her grip. “But once you hear your baby cry, it’ll all be worth it.” Marty could see the smile reach his gray eyes over his blue hospital mask. “Ready, Mrs. Dempsey?”
Both women nodded.
Childbirth wasn’t a quick process, but it was definitely a whirlwind. Medical staff moved around as the doctor barked out orders, but Marty was oblivious to everything except Suzanne. The awe she felt at watching her wife deliver their child was shattered by an earsplitting cry.
“Congratulations, it’s a girl.” He held up the reddened, slimy, wrinkled being for Marty and Suzanne to see. Marty wasn’t embarrassed when she started to cry. “Would you like to cut the cord?” Just the thought caused Marty to turn green, and the doctor didn’t even bother to tamp down his laughter. “Don’t worry, most new fathers can’t do it either.”
That didn’t make Marty feel any better about her weak stomach getting the best of her, but she didn’t regret her decision. She’d rather tell the story of how Abigail’s mother couldn’t handle cutting the cord rather than when Abigail’s mother threw up all over the doctor and a few nurses in the delivery room.
Their daughter was taken away to be cleaned up and swaddled, the tiny cries never subsiding. The doctor finished up with Suzanne, and stable vital readings were echoed among the staff.
“She’s perfect, did you see her? She’s absolutely perfect,” Marty said to anyone who’d listen. She wiped at the tears on her chin with the sleeve of her visitor’s hospital gown. With wide eyes, Marty watched a nurse approach with her daughter.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Dempsey.” He handed Marty the bundle and left her to share the moment with her slightly dazed wife. Marty looked down into the scrunched face of her child, and in that instant her heart swelled enough to make room for both her wife and daughter.
“Here she is, Suzie.” Marty leaned forward and laid their squirming child on Suzanne’s chest. “Abigail May Dempsey.”
“Abigail May.” Suzanne’s voice was weak and tired, but still amazed. Marty’s heart swelled. In a split second, her small world had just got a whole lot bigger and even more perfect than it already was. Dr. Reynolds was right. Nothing before that very moment mattered anymore.
Chapter Eight
Marty spent her Saturday evening buried beneath new listings and potential clients with impressive properties they were looking to sell. Even with the headache she quickly numbed with a tumbler full of scotch, Marty was grateful for the company work provided. She fell asleep on the couch in her jeans and a wrinkled white tank top. An incessant ringing tore Marty from her fitful slumber. As the fog lifted from her brain, she started to recognize the familiar chime of her phone. Misjudging her distance, Marty rolled off the sofa and landed on her knee.
“Dammit!” She stood quickly and hustled with a limp toward her phone on the kitchen countertop. She slid the green bar to answer the call before looking at the ID. “Yeah.” She spoke gruffly, her voice deep from sleep or lack thereof.
“Good morning to you too.” The voice on the other end was playful, chipper, and welcome. The moment Suzanne’s voice registered in Marty’s addled brain, she perked up.
“What time is it?” Marty pulled the phone away and squinted at the display. She could barely make out a nine before she heard Suzanne speak again.
“It’s almost ten.” Suzanne didn’t try to mask her amusement. “Let me guess, you fell asleep on the couch, didn’t you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Marty stretched her cramped limbs, wincing at the twinge of pain between her shoulder blades.
“Did the chiropractor send you a Christmas card again this year?”
“A card and a cookie platter.” Hearing Suzanne’s hearty laugh soothed Marty and alerted her all at once. It was Sunday morning, and Suzanne was calling her for the first time since their shaky reconciliation. Despite the odd tension at the restaurant, Suzanne seemed as devoted to remaining in touch as she did. Marty breathed a sigh of relief. She was unsure of how to proceed after her ex-wife’s hasty departure at lunch and had just decided to leave the ball in Suzanne’s court. She was glad she did.
“What are you up to besides being lazy?” Suzanne asked. Marty could hear a faint crunching sound on the other end of the phone, telling her that Suzanne was indulging in a late breakfast. She could almost smell the coffee as Suzanne slurped quietly.
“I have to head to the grocery store in a bit.” Marty took a few steps into the kitchen and reached for the closest cabinet. A small smile of satisfaction spread across her full lips as she spied a small jar of instant coffee. She couldn’t be bothered with making a pot today, not just for herself.
“Have your skills improved, or are you still a disaster when it comes to food shopping?” A low chuckle warmed Marty’s ear.
“Well, I had to adapt or starve.” Marty laughed along with Suzanne and left out a few select words that would hint at just how much of disaster Marty was at the store still. If she needed milk, she’d leave with only cereal, and she always bought side dishes without a main course. Some people had a knack, and she wasn’t one of them. “Today’s trip will be pretty straightforward, though. I just need a few things for a barbecue later.” When she was met with nothing but silence, Marty continued. “I’m having a barbecue later. I’m having it here.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“There isn’t one.”
“You just decided to throw a party?” Marty couldn’t blame her for sounding skeptical.
“It’s not a party. My mom and Charlotte keep asking me if I’m okay, and they don’t believe me when I say I am.”
“Should they believe you?” Suzanne asked. Marty froze at the question. She almost said no.
“Spending so much time alone gets to me after a while, so I figured a small get-together would be good for me and it’d get those pesky women off my back.” Marty felt so many more words line up on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell Suzanne about the voices she heard late at night and the dreams that haunted her even after the sun rose, but she kept those burdens to herself. “I’d love it if you could stop by.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I insist!” Marty declared a bit too quickly, her excitement getting the best of her. “Bring Blake along. I’d like another chance at meeting him. The last few times weren’t exactly under the best circumstances, and I know my mother would love to see you.”
“Okay.”
“Great!” When Marty spoke, her tone was surprised and relieved. “Everyone’s coming over around four. All the usual suspects will be here.”
“Annmarie and Charlotte?”
“Of course,” Marty laughed warmly, “like they’d say no to free food.”
“Good point.” Suzanne said. “Should we bring anything?”
“An appetite would be good, but other than tha
t? No, thank you.”
“If you think of anything, call me. I can stop on my way over.”
“I will.”
“I guess I’ll see you later, Marty.”
“Later, Suzie.” Marty ended the conversation and stared at her phone. She had a feeling that the casual barbecue amongst family and friends she’d just planned would be anything but.
*
“Shit!” Marty dropped a bag of ice on her foot for the third time, and that was after four trampled hamburger buns, a well-shaken case of beer, and a near-sprained ankle after tripping over a garden hose. She bowed her head in defeat. Guests would start to arrive in less than an hour, and she had barely managed to set up the backyard, never mind fill the coolers or prepare the food.
Knowing she’d be playing hostess to Suzanne and Blake, the happily engaged couple, proved to be a crippling distraction. Along with that came the worry of what her mother might or might not say to her ex-wife. If Marty was being honest with herself, she was starting to regret extending the invitation.
Slowly, carefully, she tipped the ten-pound bag of ice toward the open mouth of a large red cooler. Sweat started to bead along her hairline as she concentrated on the small task. One cube hit the plastic with a sharp sounding thud. The rest of the cubes started to follow in a frozen waterfall. The doorbell rang, breaking Marty’s concentration. She spun around and threw the cubes onto the lawn.
“Perfect,” she muttered before dropping the half-empty bag at her feet. Marty ran toward the house, mindful of the coiled garden hose, and made her way to the front door. She hoped to see her mother on the other side—she could use all the help she could get. When Marty opened the door wide, she was surprised to see Suzanne fidgeting with a bottle of wine.
“You’re early.” Marty stated the obvious. She was in shock.
“I am.” Suzanne looked from the wine’s label to Marty and back again. “I thought maybe you could use some help.” Marty still blocked the doorway, frozen in surprise. Suzanne cleared her throat. “I remember how you used to have a hard time—”
“I’m terrible at managing parties. Just say it, Suzie.” Marty watched as the blonde fought to form a defense.
“Just the preparations, you’re terrible at setting up.” Suzanne grimaced. “But you manage the rest wonderfully!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Marty stepped aside and motioned for Suzanne to come inside. “The kitchen is the biggest disaster area.” She took the bottle from her guest and knew it was merlot before she read the label. “Where’s Blake?”
“He has work, so he’ll get here a little later.” Marty turned the small gift in her hands. “I’m not sure if you still drink it.”
“I do.” Marty traced the script on the label with her thumb. She lied, albeit unintentionally. The merlot was still her favorite wine, but she hadn’t enjoyed a glass since she and Suzanne had split. The flavors always reminded her of her former life. When she looked at Suzanne again, her sapphire eyes sparkled with genuine happiness that was hidden partially beneath apprehension. Maybe Marty would finally be able to enjoy a glass that evening.
Once Marty shut the front door, every action that followed seemed automatic and ritualistic. Suzanne hung her light jacket in the closet nearest the living room and went straight for the kitchen. Marty looked on with keen eyes, appreciating the sway of Suzanne’s womanly hips. She wore a polo shirt the color of lilacs and tucked it neatly into her jeans. Suzanne knew how to wear preppy clothes well, and it always gave her tomboy look a classy edge.
“What in God’s name has gone on in here?” Suzanne’s loud voice brought Marty back from the brink of inappropriate thoughts.
“Party preparations?”
The countertop was riddled with miscellaneous items and most of the food was still in the refrigerator or cabinets. The closest Marty had managed to get to cooking was separating hot dog and hamburger buns.
“Let me—”
“No.” Suzanne raised her right hand and kept Marty from entering the kitchen. “You go outside and stay out there. Leave this to me.”
Suzanne opened the cabinet above the stove, where they kept the largest serving bowls, but several plastic containers rained down and scattered across the floor. When she turned to chastise Marty, she was already out of the back door. Suzanne shook her head and took a deep breath.
She moved about the kitchen easily, comfortably, with the knowledge of where everything was or where it should be. She fixed the salads and filled bowls with snacks, thinking of parties they had thrown and small get-togethers they’d hosted for their friends. While she rinsed her hands, Suzanne looked out the window and watched Marty light the grill. At any minute guests would start to arrive and put an end to their time together. Suzanne leaned against the counter and looked on, relishing those final moments.
Suzanne watched Marty move with precise, relaxed movements. She poured charcoal from a heavy bag into the grill base, each muscle along her back, shoulders, and arms flexing as she worked. Her royal blue blouse was sleeveless, and the material was thin enough to showcase each ripple of her lean body. Her knee-length khaki shorts hugged her thighs, and her bare calves looked strong as she walked back and forth methodically.
Suzanne knew what it would feel like to step behind her ex-wife and wrap her arms around her trim waist. She knew if she kissed the back of Marty’s neck, it would taste moist with a salty trace of sweat. The blonde shivered at the thought of Marty’s natural musk, and how she’d be able to reduce the other woman to whimpering mess just by running her nails along her lower abdomen. Suzanne lost herself in all the fantasies Marty could star in, easily and dangerously distracting her from the task at hand. And just as easily, she missed the sound of the front door opening and the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Suzanne?”
“Denise!” Act natural. “I didn’t hear you come in!” Real natural, it’s like she caught you with your hand in the cookie jar. “So quiet!” Or down her daughter’s pants. “How are you?” Suzanne ran her hand across her forehead and smiled the best she could once she realized she hadn’t dried her hands yet.
“I’m fine.” Marty’s mother narrowed her eyes at Suzanne before looking her up and down. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
The two women looked at one another as the statement and all its implications hit home. Denise had always been a blunt, honest woman, and Suzanne gave that right back to her.
“I wasn’t expecting to be here either.” The tightness around her lips eased, and Suzanne resumed her casual stance against the counter. “I called Marty this morning and she invited me.” She shrugged. “I miss a lot of people, you included.” She finally approached her ex-mother-in-law and wrapped her arms around her. She closed her eyes when Denise hugged her back robustly.
“I miss you too, Suzanne.” When they separated, Denise looked around the kitchen and back to Suzanne with an amused smirk. “You must’ve been here for a while?”
“I knew she’d need help.”
“So did I, but I was curious how it’d turn out if Martha was left to her own devices.”
Marty interrupted from the doorway. “Well, too bad. Your awful plan was foiled.” The sun was shining behind her, illuminating her chestnut hair in the most angelic way. Suzanne struggled not to gape.
“Why must you always save the day?” Denise said to Suzanne.
“Hey!” a loud voice called out from the front of the house.
“More guests, how delightful.” Denise’s wise eyes held something that frightened and confused Suzanne as Denise walked away to greet the newest arrivals. This was the first confrontation since the divorce, and Suzanne was sure Denise had her own thoughts on the matter.
The latest guest entered the kitchen with a covered bowl in hand. No matter how many years passed, Tess Dwyer would always be stunning. Her auburn hair was pulled back and meticulous, her toned yet perfectly curvy body hugged by tight denim and cotton.
“I wasn’t sure what to br
ing, but I remembered how much you enjoyed my guacamole.” Tess handed the bowl to Marty with a wink. Suzanne filed through countless memories in her mind, and she knew for sure Tess had never brought guacamole to a party they hosted.
“You do have a knack. You’re going to love it, Suzie.” As the name registered with Tess, she looked between Marty and Suzanne with shock.
“Suzanne! How are you?”
“I’ve been doing okay.” She moved to the other side of the kitchen counter in order to avoid any awkward hug. “Yourself? How’s Jennifer?”
“She’s wonderful!” As soon as the words left her mouth Tess cringed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay.” Marty was quick to smooth over the discomfort. “She’s a good kid. You should be proud. Where is she?” Marty looked around, expecting a little girl identical to her mother to come running around the corner.
“She’s spending the weekend with her father. I figured I could indulge in some adult time.”
“I bet you did.” Suzanne’s grumble was quiet enough to go unheard by her ex-wife and neighbor, but Denise snorted before leaving Suzanne to finish her preparations. The doorbell rang, and she sighed in relief at the promise of new faces to distract her.
An hour later, the barbecue was in full swing and people were mingling with plates full of food. Marty stood by her mother’s side, casually talking and watching her guests and keeping a keen eye on the bowls full of snacks. She heard Suzanne’s laugh from the opposite side of the yard.
“Marty?” Denise followed Marty’s gaze. “Did you hear what I said?” Marty merely hummed in response. “Blake’s here.”
“What?” Marty scanned the small crowd and found him quickly. He was approaching her.
“Hey, Marty.” Blake extended his hand. His smile was bright, and his brown eyes were soft as he greeted her. She took his hand and shook it firmly. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“I’m glad you could make it.” Marty almost choked on her words.
“I’ll admit I was a bit surprised when Suzie told me we were both invited.”