“You look really nice,” Erika said. “And this is my friend Tucker. Hope it’s okay that he came.”
Jennifer’s eyes went wide, and then she wrapped Tucker in her arms, like he was a gift brought just for her.
“Your dad’s trying to get Tessa to sleep, but I don’t have high hopes. Can I get you a drink?”
She swept them inside, into a pretty, yellow kitchen that was still full of unpacked boxes. Jennifer held up a bottle of wine, and Tucker declined, but Erika said yes, please, so Jennifer poured two glasses.
From there, she led them to a little side room that was occupied almost entirely by a piano. Erika and Jennifer sat on the piano bench, while Tucker hovered in the corner of the room. Down the hall, they could hear the baby crying.
“Whew. Sorry,” Jennifer said. “I needed a small break from people. And I wasn’t sure if you were in the mood for a party, after everything that happened yesterday.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Erika said. “Really. I’m . . . I’m happy to be here. And besides, he took a plea. I didn’t have to do anything.”
“I heard, I heard. From your mom. Did she tell you that I ran into her at the salon before Tessa was born? And I asked her weird pregnancy questions and now we text each other? Oh my god, your mom is so cool. Don’t you think your mom is cool? Anyway, she told me what happened, but still—I’m sure it’s been very stressful.”
“We don’t have to talk about it, seriously. I want to hear about Tessa. Also, I want to know if childbirth is more or less terrifying than it is in the movies.”
As Jennifer was about to respond, the wailing from down the hall grew louder. Erika’s dad appeared in the doorway with a screaming bundle.
“Oh! Hey. Didn’t know you were here. Uh, I’m not sure I can walk in circles anymore. And my arms feel like they’re going to fall off. Sorry.”
Jennifer gave a deep sigh, and then she and Erika both stood and headed toward Paul, Erika glancing nervously at the baby, while Jennifer mumbled that she was sorry they were meeting like this. The crying grew somehow louder than it already was, and Erika started to feel nervous, sweaty.
Then Tucker appeared at Paul’s side.
“I can take her,” Tucker said. “I can walk in circles.”
His eyes were on Erika, asking her if she wanted to stay there and keep talking.
She smiled at him and mouthed thanks.
Twenty minutes later, Erika and Jennifer were still in the piano room, and had moved from talking about babies to talking about the courthouse.
Erika sighed. “It’s weird, I spent so much time being worried about what would happen, when I was on the stand. If they’d bring up that stuff from my past. You . . . you know about it, right?”
Jennifer kept her face neutral and nodded.
“Okay, so I spent all this mental and emotional energy, getting ready to relive it. And then it didn’t happen. I never had to talk about it. Maybe this sounds stupid, but it feels like kind of a waste.”
Tessa’s cries had finally subsided, and Erika could hear people chatting in the kitchen. She could feel Jennifer gearing up to say more to her, but Erika suddenly felt bad, keeping her here, making her miss her own freaking party.
“Um, anyway. Thanks for listening. I should really go find Tucker.”
Erika stood first and then Jennifer followed, smoothing out her dress and stretching out her back. As they were walking out, Erika noticed two framed baby photos on a little table in the corner.
One was her and the other was Tessa. Delicately, she reached out and picked both of them up.
“Oh, oh,” Jennifer said. “I should have asked before I put yours there, but I wanted both. Is it okay? I had to ask your mom for a copy, because Paul—he’s so unsentimental! He hardly has any pictures.”
When Jennifer said that, Erika had to take a moment to compose herself. Very carefully, she set the pictures back down and managed to keep her face pleasant.
When her dad had lived in his DC apartment, he’d indeed had almost no photos—but there had been the one, of Erika when she was five. She was chubby-cheeked, still blond. All sunshine.
Right after the video, that picture had disappeared.
Maybe that had been some kind of coincidence, but she didn’t think so. There was a time when just thinking of its absence from the shelf had made her so sad, so angry, so bitter . . .
Right now, it made her feel protective. Of Tessa. Of Jennifer, even if Jennifer was a grown-ass woman who could make her own decisions.
Erika thought it might be a good thing, if she was in their lives.
“I don’t mind at all,” Erika finally said. “Look at me, I’m cute as hell. Now let’s go party.”
Jennifer smiled. “Yes, let’s. Whew. You know I’m really sorry about the plea, but I am glad you didn’t have to sit there and talk about anything you didn’t want to talk about. Although I wish someone would come and talk to my health classes about that stuff. There is nothing in the curriculum about, you know. I can’t use the word sexting, it’s too stupid. But whatever, there’s nothing about it. All we have is that god-awful assembly every year—all the schools in the county do it now. It Doesn’t End . . . Once You Press Send. That’s actually what it’s called, can you believe it?”
Erika went completely still.
Unbelievable. That horrendous assembly that those women on the PTA had developed in the wake of her humiliation—not only did it still exist, it was spreading to other schools.
She wanted to scream at the absurdity.
“That thing is awful,” Erika mumbled. “Can’t somebody come up with something better?”
And as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew.
Yes, somebody could come up with something better.
Massachusetts, here I come.
43
Tucker
After many minutes of walking Tessa back and forth through the hallways, bouncing her the whole time, Tucker had finally gotten her to calm down. He thought she was asleep, but as he was getting ready to look for her crib, she started cooing.
Very carefully, he peeked at her face. She smelled like sour milk, and her eyelashes were perfect.
Paul reappeared in the hallway, looking sheepish.
“Hey there,” he said quietly. “Sorry to abandon you for so long.”
“It’s no problem,” Tucker said. “I’m happy to do it.”
Paul nodded, taking that in, while Tucker stood there, considering the man before him.
He was short and broad-shouldered. Square-jawed. Paul yawned, and Tucker noticed that the bottle of beer in his hand was still full, like he’d forgotten to drink it.
“Apologies in advance if I barely know my own name. Babies are no joke. Don’t have one before you’re ready, and maybe don’t have one when you’re forty-six either. Sorry, that came out wrong. This is all very exciting, just very exhausting.” He cleared his throat. “So, um. Where did you and Erika meet?”
He sounded a little suspicious on that last question. Tucker instinctively held Tessa tighter.
“We worked together a couple years ago.”
Paul nodded absentmindedly, then started asking Tucker about school, which turned into a nonstop barrage of questions about what Tucker was interested in, what he wanted to study, what his ultimate plan was. Tucker was happy about his answers, though he wasn’t sure if Paul was impressed. Because that’s what this was about, right? Sizing him up?
But then Paul sighed, rubbed his temples.
“You know, I’m actually glad you’re here. I can only take so much of . . . you know. This. The endless conversations about breastfeeding and where to order diapers online. Enough already.”
As Paul started rambling about baseball, Tucker considered him with a frown. He realized that Paul hadn’t been feeling him out at all. He was just one of those men who preferred to talk with other men. Who only knew how to talk to other men.
How strange that seemed. How pathetically sa
d.
Paul was going on and on about the Nats and their bullpen problems, but Tucker ignored him and broke in.
“I’m really excited for Erika,” he said. “About this summer. I think she’s kind of downplaying what a big deal it is. I know she’s going to be great.”
Paul suddenly seemed to remember his beer. He took a couple slow swigs. When he was done, he pointed it at Tucker.
“So what about you? Big plans for this summer?”
“Sort of. My friend’s family has a place at Bethany Beach. His dad’s a partner in this new crab house on Coastal Highway. It’s kind of by the water tower, on the Bay side? I’m going to work there.”
Now Paul was smiling. “Excellent. I did a summer at the Jersey shore when I was in college. Whew. Did I get into some trouble.”
Trouble. That was a fine idea, wasn’t it? Tucker still wanted some trouble in his life, for sure. Ryan had officially declared this the summer of bikinis and beer, and Tucker liked bikinis. Beer was growing on him.
And yet he was suddenly full of doubt and restlessness. Because the whole time he’d been bouncing the baby in his arms, all he could think of was his own family back at home.
“Can I hand Tessa back to you? I need to make a quick call.”
Standing alone in the corner of the garden, Tucker tried, as calmly and rationally as he could, to convince his mom that he should stay home for the summer, so that Riley could stay with them, too.
“I can go to the beach next summer. It’s not a big deal. This is really important.”
“Tucker, he seems like a very healthy, happy little boy, so I don’t know why you think—”
“You weren’t there today. I caught Grandma Ruth sitting at the table, breathing heavy, and she made me promise not to tell Nate and Maggie. I think even a few more weeks is too long. This will be so much better for him, until they figure out what’s next. Until Maggie moves or finds a way to rearrange her place or whatever.”
His mom was silent on the other end, and Tucker did his best to keep his mouth shut and let her think.
“I appreciate what you want to do here—really I do. But it’s so much more complicated than you’re making it sound. Who has legal custody of him? How hard did they really look for his mom?”
Now Tucker was the silent one.
“I think Grandma Ruth has custody? And I’m not sure about his mom.”
“This is what I mean, okay? This is not some simple little thing. It’s not as easy as saying you’ll take care of him during the day. You need to make some money before next year, so you’d have to work at night.”
Tucker stared at the twinkling white lights that lined the fence. He smelled the basil growing in the big blue pot at his feet. He listened to the drone of the cicadas.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking a little. “I knew it was too much to ask. I just thought I’d give it a shot.”
As Tucker was struggling with how to say goodbye, his mom sighed.
“It’s not that it’s too much to ask, hon. I need time to think. I obviously have to talk to Frank. And then I’ll make some calls.”
Tucker shut his eyes and clutched the phone tighter in his hand.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me. And he’s going to totally love staying with us. I mean, assuming it works out. But I really think it will. He’s going to be so happy, you’ll see.”
Another silence stretched out between them, and then his mom spoke to him gently.
“Tucker? I love your big heart, but I’m worried that it’s giving you some big ideas right now. I don’t want you to get ahead of yourself, okay? We are talking about the summer. And it’s still very complicated.”
Tucker felt a pang in his chest then, because his mom knew him well. In a secret corner of his mind, he had been thinking big. The idea of Riley staying with them forever hadn’t been there at first, when he’d asked about the weekend. But over the course of this day, all those emotional moments on the farm, Erika reappearing, meeting Tessa, the possibility had been planted inside him.
If Tucker had just asked his mom and Frank straight out, of course they would have said no. He knew this was no small idea, what he was thinking, and it certainly wasn’t something to be decided spontaneously or lightly. But after they’d spent some time with Riley, maybe they’d feel differently. Maybe this would start to feel right for everybody—he thought there was a chance that it would.
Still, he knew he needed to take this slow, not to get his hopes up too much. No matter what, he’d stay in Riley’s life, and that’s what mattered most.
“I hear you, Mom. Seriously. I understand what you’re saying.”
“Okay. I was just making sure. We’ll talk more tomorrow?”
“Yeah, yeah. For sure.”
They said goodbye, and two seconds after he’d hung up, his phone pinged.
His mom had texted him a picture of Riley curled up in Frank’s lap, watching the movie.
Now Tucker couldn’t stop smiling.
Special nights could change things—he still believed that. Maybe it was a little innocent, a little childlike, to put his faith in that idea, but that’s who Tucker was.
It was who he always wanted to be.
44
Erika
Tessa was sleeping when Erika finally held her. They were alone in the nursery, and Erika examined her as gently as she could.
Tessa’s cheek was impossibly soft to the touch, and her tiny fingers were curled around the edge of a thin muslin blanket. Her mouth made a sucking motion, even as she slept. It was very silly and very cute, and god—she was vulnerable. What a terrifying thing, to bring something so vulnerable into the world.
Still, Erika noticed that Tessa had heft. She was solid and healthy and strong.
Erika hummed to her, very quietly. Then she kissed her head, set her in her crib, and told her that she’d see her soon. As she tiptoed out of the room, her arms tingled and felt heavy, remembering the weight of her sister.
Erika slipped into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. She was feeling very fierce. Very happy.
There was something she wanted to do.
Heart beating fast, she took out her phone and got ready to type. She had to dig deep to come up with exactly what she wanted to say.
Hi Dana. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got rid of my number, so . . . this is Erika. I never said thank you, for what you did. So I’m saying it now, two years late. Thank you for tracking down those assholes’ phones. Thanks for erasing it. I hope you’re well.
That last line sounded kind of ridiculous, didn’t it? Too late, it was sent. As Erika was about to get up and walk out, a call came through.
She barely managed to keep from dropping the phone in the toilet. Her hands shook as she answered.
“Um, hello?”
“Hi, Erika.”
“Hi.”
“This is so weird. I usually only make phone calls when something is horribly wrong. Or when I just painted my nails, and I don’t want to mess them up.”
Erika took deep, slow breaths. This was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay.
“That is entirely and perfectly reasonable. I approve of those parameters.”
“Right? This is a little different, obviously, but I didn’t want to type this, so here we go. Thanks for saying thanks. That was . . . very nice of you. But also, I was awful in high school. Like, the worst. I’m sure you heard the stuff I said about you. I guess I didn’t know any better? No, ugh. That sounds like a cop-out. How about ‘I know better now.’ Let’s go with that.”
Erika stared down at the fuzzy pink bath mat. “Well . . . thanks again, I guess. For saying all that.”
There was a long silence on the line, and then Dana exhaled.
“Now what do we talk about?”
“I have no idea,” Erika said.
“Uh, how’s things? You good?”
Erika looked up and took stock of her surroundin
gs, reflecting back on this very strange day. She’d spent yesterday in a courthouse feeling defeated, but also like she knew who she was—a fighter. She’d spent the afternoon in a field of green, lifted high by the feeling of giving and receiving forgiveness. All of that had led her to having a few moments of real connection with Jennifer and Tessa, and then to this conversation she’d been wanting to have for a long time.
“I think I’m weirdly good?” Erika said.
“Cool, me too. We don’t have to hang out or something now, do we?”
“No offense,” Erika said, “but I hope not. I mean, if I ever see you at a party or something, I guess we can hug?”
“Yes. I will totally hug you someday at a party.”
“Great,” Erika said. “It’s a deal.”
Erika went and found Tucker, and the two of them shared some whispered words about the phone calls they’d made, all the ideas that were swirling in their heads. They were both happy, a little bit giddy. She told him that they should get going, that she needed to get some rest tonight, but first she had to say goodbye to Jennifer.
They walked inside, and Erika spotted her right away, huddled by the fridge with a little pack of women that Erika had met earlier, when they’d left the piano room—they were Jennifer’s friends from college and her sisters, Beth and Cori. Right now, they were all drinking wine out of plastic cups, cackling about something. When Jennifer saw Tucker and Erika, her eyes lit up and she called them over.
Jennifer introduced Tucker to everyone, then touched Erika’s arm lightly and pointed to an elaborate display of cupcakes behind her, taking her voice down low.
“So, I told your dad I was going to pick up a sheet cake from Costco, because I love sheet cakes from Costco, but he insisted on getting these from some place in Bethesda.”
“They probably cost a fortune,” Beth muttered.
Jennifer swatted at her and kept talking. “So he brings them home, and when I unpacked them, I asked if he’d gotten, I don’t know, licorice flavor or something. He looked at me like I was nuts and said no, vanilla. But, oh my god, they’re awful. I think there’s something wrong with them.”
Our Year in Love and Parties Page 20