by Zoe Fishman
“And if you do, then isn’t that sad?” said Josh. “Shouldn’t you always want to be expanding and growing, regardless of your kids?”
“Right, but I think physically it’s much harder to chase your dreams when you have a baby suckling at your breast.”
“True,” Josh conceded.
“At any rate, I’m feeling good about the baby. Hopeful and excited.”
“You know what’s cool?” asked Josh.
“What?”
“That you put your marketing-consultant wheels in motion before you found out that you were pregnant.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, just that figuring out an appealing career path probably would have been a lot harder with a baby around, or even with a baby in there.” He patted my stomach.
“Okay, really, Josh, I love you, but enough with the hands on the stomach until, you know, it’s an actual pregnant stomach and not a bowl of oatmeal.”
“Fine. But do you know what I mean?”
“Of course. I’m excited about this new venture. Although, who knows if it has true potential.”
“I think it’s a no-brainer.”
“Thanks, Josh.” I laid my damp head on his shoulder.
“Have you told your mom yet, by the way?”
“Not yet. I want to keep this ours until we have our first doctor appointment and see the baby on the big screen.”
“I can’t imagine what that’s going to feel like,” said Josh.
“Incredible, overwhelming, and surreal for starters.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Me either.”
I backed out of our garage, looking in my side mirrors maniacally as I squeaked out of the narrow opening. On the road, I turned on the radio—a first for me—and rolled down the windows. I relaxed my grip on the wheel. I was almost enjoying myself. Almost.
I pulled awkwardly into a parking spot at the coffee shop that Ray and I had agreed on. Realizing I was crooked, I reversed out and reparked, only to find myself in the same position. “Okay, breathe, Sarah. Take your time,” I said aloud. I backed out and did it again, landing in exactly the same position. Screw it.
As I reached over to grab my bag, a knock on my driver-side window made me jump. I looked up to find Ray beaming at me through the glass. He stepped out of the way and I opened the door.
“Look out, Miss New York is back!”
“Hey hey,” I replied, blushing under the crush of his enthusiasm. “Did you see that?”
“See what?” He went in for a hug and I returned it, temporarily submerged in a sea of cologne that smelled like black licorice and tobacco. Not an unpleasant smell by any means, but Ray seemed to have bathed in it.
“My parking mess.” I locked the door and smiled, taking him in. He truly was a human teddy bear—tall, sturdy, fuzzy, and somehow in a constant state of grin despite the fact that he put his life in jeopardy each day by teaching people like me to drive. And in a car that looked like a mouse, no less.
“Naw, that wasn’t a mess. You went in a little crooked, but you took your time and straightened out. That was a pro’s work.”
“Get out of here.”
“Naw, for real. You’re serious now. You drove into Manhattan! Hell, I don’t even know if I could have done that.”
I reached out and grabbed his elbow as we made our way into the shop. “Thanks, Ray. I was pretty proud of myself. And thanks for your help, too. Having you there, so to speak, was incredibly helpful.” He held the door open for me and we approached the counter.
“Yeah, that was something. I don’t think I’ve ever given a driving lesson on the phone. This is on me,” he said, pointing to the menu.
“No!”
“I mean it. Give me your order and take a seat. I’ll bring everything over when it’s ready.” I threw up my hands in surrender, ordered a decaf latte and an oatmeal raisin cookie, and slid into a booth.
“So, you movin’ back to the big city?” Ray asked, taking a bite of his Danish.
“No. I’ve been cured of my New Yorkitis.” I shook some sugar into my latte.
“Ooh, that’s good to hear!” declared Ray. “I was nervous there for a minute.”
“You were?”
“Sure. You seemed pretty sweet on that place. I didn’t think ole Farmwood stood a chance.”
“I’m back, baby.”
“Yeah, you are.” He took a sip of his sweet tea. “My marketing guru.”
“I hope so. Ray, I’ve got to thank you. Your reaching out to me really got me thinking. I’m going to use our work together as a springboard to launch my own consulting firm.”
“Now, that’s a good idea, Sarah. Farmwood needs some urban sophistication.”
I choked on my cookie. “That’s a phrase I didn’t expect to hear from your mouth, Ray.”
“What? ‘Urban sophistication’?”
I nodded, grinning.
“What can I say? I’m full of surprises. Don’t think that ole Ray is easy to figure out.” He took a dramatic pull from his straw. “I am a complex man, you know.”
“I know.” I winked at him. “So, do you want to take a look at what I’ve come up with so far?”
“Sure do.”
I pulled my laptop out of my bag and we spent the next half hour going over the ins and outs of what I was proposing.
“Sarah, these are some great ideas,” said Ray when we had finished up.
“Thanks, Ray. I think Minnie’s has a lot of potential to grow in ways we’re only beginning to imagine.” I paused. “Oh God, I sound like a hedge fund manager or something.”
“It’s all good. I know what you mean.” Ray glanced at his watch. “All right, boss, I should get back to work. I’m giving an eighty-seven-year-old man a lesson in twenty minutes.”
“Shouldn’t he be turning in his license at this point?”
“He refuses, and his daughter threatened to take it away if he didn’t take a refresher course. I guess he backed through their garage door last week.”
“Ay ay ay.”
“Exactly. Wish me luck.” We stood up together. A wave of queasiness washed over me, and I held on to the table for a moment. “You all right?” Ray’s brow furrowed with concern.
“Yeah, fine.” I took a deep breath. “Just a little light-headed.” I smiled as convincingly as I could, crossing my fingers in the hope that my thus-far-pleasant pregnancy wasn’t taking a turn for Vomitville.
“You sure?” I nodded and walked slowly out in front of him.
“See you later, boss,” said Ray as he unlocked the mouse car’s doors. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Positive. Just heading to work.”
“Okay.” He opened his door as I waved and began to walk away. “Sarah?”
“Yes?”
He closed the door and jogged over to me. “You pregnant?” he asked.
“What?” I replied, shocked.
“Sorry, that was rude. But I have three kids. I know pregnant when I see it.” He smiled supportively. “You need any advice, you call Vanessa, you hear? She’s a pro.”
I nodded, embarrassed. “Thanks. I’m really not that far along though, so it’s, you know, private.”
“You got it. You won’t hear another peep from me about it until you’re ready, and then I’ll talk your ear off. Take it easy.” He patted my arm gently.
“Thanks, Ray.”
I waved and continued on toward Bauble Head, wiping my eyes. It had been sweet of Ray to offer his and Vanessa’s much-needed wisdom but a little too premature for my taste. I was barely a month along. Hopefully Mitzi lacked the fetus sonar that Ray seemed to possess. I wanted to keep my pregnancy quiet until I couldn’t button my pants anymore. Which, unfortunately, looked like it would be sooner rather than later. Already my waistbands were beginning to leave angry red indentations in their wake.
A new display featuring a stuffed turkey with a rhinestone tiara perched atop its head greeted me as I pulled ope
n the door to Bauble Head. I wondered for the thousandth time if Mitzi even wanted to make more money here, or if she was perfectly fine with bejeweled tchotchkes in her windows and, oh wow, were those bedazzled gourds at the register?
“Sarah?” Mitzi’s perfectly coiffed head popped out from the back-room door. “Hey, honey!” The sound of a box hitting the floor startled us both. “One second, I’m just goin’ through some new inventory!”
“No problem!” I called back. I realized I was grinning ear to ear as I took off my coat.
“Darlin’, how was New York?” she sang as she skipped toward me on purple kitten-heeled mules. “How is Mona?” She reached out to give me a hug and then pulled back, observing me with wide eyes rimmed with mascara and purple liner.
“She’s feeling good, thanks. Day by day, you know?”
She pulled up her stool and gestured for me to have a seat on my own. “I do know. Bless her heart. And did you say that she was single?”
“She was, but she actually reconnected with somebody a month or two before the surgery . . .”
Mesmerized by Mitzi’s unwavering interest, I surprised myself by launching into a thorough rendition of my trip, complete with tales about Franklin and even my drive into Manhattan. Throughout, she laughed and mmm-hmmed and hand-patted in all the right places. I imagined it must have been what talking to Oprah felt like. When I was finished, I felt terrific. Rhinestone therapy. Oh my God! Rhinestone Therapy! Of course!
“Mitzi?” I said, barreling through my reservations about challenging her current business model.
“Hmmm?”
“Have you ever thought about trying to bring in a new demographic of customers?”
“Sure I have. I mean, who wouldn’t want to turn a better profit? Although I would hate for Bauble Head to overwhelm my life. This is really just fun for me, you know? Sorta like my playhouse.” She looked around. “My big, gaudy playhouse. Why? Did your New York trip get that brain of yours buzzin’?”
“It did, actually. I just, well, first and foremost, I wonder about the name.”
“Bauble Head?”
I nodded.
“Why? You think it’s tacky?”
“Maybe a smidge.”
“I can see that. To be honest, I don’t love it, but Clyde and I came up with it over a bottle of Dom Pérignon the night we officially leased this space, so it’s got some memories for me. Why? Did you think of somethin’ better?”
“I did. Just now, actually, although I’ve been racking my brain over it for weeks.”
“Well, go on, what is it?”
“Okay, it’s just a thought, but what about Rhinestone Therapy?”
Mitzi tilted her head as she considered it. “Rhinestone Therapy,” she repeated slowly. “I think I like it.” She drummed the counter with her fuchsia fingernails. “You think that will bring in new customers? A new name and a new sign?”
“Among other things, yes, but that’s a good start. I’m actually starting up a marketing consultant business—”
“Are you leavin’ me?”
“Oh no, not at all. I’d love to stay on part-time if you’ll have me. I’m just letting you know that—”
“If I like your ideas I’m gonna need to pay for ’em?”
“Well, yes. But at next to nothing, of course. I’m just starting out and you’re a friend, and also I work for you, so you would have me at a rock-bottom rate.”
“What’s your business name, smarty pants?”
“I actually don’t have one at the moment.”
“I have an idea for you, free of charge.”
“What’s that?”
“Big Mouth Marketing.”
“Mitzi, I’m sorry, did I offend you with all of this? If that’s the case, please just disregard it. It was just a thought.”
She stood up and put her hands on my shoulders, seeming to take particular delight in the fact that, from this angle, she was actually the taller one for once.
“Sarah, I love your idea. I’m just givin’ you crap.” I smiled, relieved. “You think I’m thin-skinned enough to get my feelins hurt over a name change? Come on, now. You’re not givin’ southern women enough credit. As far as workin’ with you, let me think about it.”
“Oh good. I’m so glad. And of course, take your time. Although, your suggestion is actually pretty great.”
“What suggestion?”
“Big Mouth Marketing. I kind of like it.”
“Of course you do. That will be fifty dollars. Pay up.” She laughed and walked out from behind the register. “Now, we have a ton of unpacking to do. I just got a bunch of winter crap in.” She glanced back at me. “Rhinestone Therapy, huh? It’s growin’ on me, missy.”
22
As I locked up the store, I was suddenly seized by an urgent need for iced tea. I had never craved it before, but now every taste bud I possessed yearned for it. My first official craving. Sure, I had indulged in some decadent foods since finding out I was pregnant, but that was just gluttony. This was different. This was a Somebody in this parking lot is going to die if I don’t get that iced tea situation. Ah, the coffee shop. They had to have it, or at the very least, a beverage that came close enough.
I made a beeline for it with the focus of an Olympic speed skater, practically breaking a sweat in the process despite the fact that it was, finally, cool outside. Inside, it was all I could do not to squeal with delight upon seeing the very words that were flashing neon in my brain scrawled on the chalkboard menu behind the register. I closed my eyes as I took my first sip through the straw. Sweet Sally, it was good. I thanked Bonnie, who was no doubt a bit taken aback by my show of gratitude.
On my way out, I surveyed the early-evening crowd, almost draining my cup in the process. Oh God, Iris. Common decency said that I had to go over and say hello, but I was not in the mood. Besides, how was I going to address her and Mac’s separation? I could play dumb—after all, I had been out of town for two weeks—but knowing me, my nerves would reveal themselves in some predictably ungraceful form, e.g., dropping my to-go cup on the floor, choking on an ice cube, or somehow managing to unscrew and upend the table’s saltshaker, which I had actually done before in similar predicaments. Twice. Naturally, at that moment, she looked up and saw me. She waved hesitantly and I returned the gesture. Showtime.
“Hi, Iris,” I said a little too cheerily as I approached, in an attempt to mask my discomfort. She was as beautiful as ever, but beneath her eyes was the telltale gray of lack of sleep. And was that a pimple on her cheek? So she was human after all.
“Hi, Sarah.” She gazed up at me plaintively. “How was your trip?”
“Good, thanks. I—I went to help my best friend recuperate from surgery. She had a hysterectomy.” Why, why had I just told her that? Me and my stupid mouth.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Josh mentioned that you were going to help a friend, but I wasn’t clear on the details.”
I nodded, unsure of how to see my way out of the awkward fog I had created. “How are you doing?”
“Eh.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been better.”
“Josh told me about you and Mac. I’m so sorry, Iris. Can I sit?”
“Of course! Sorry not to have offered sooner. My head is all over the place lately.” She removed her bag from the other chair. “Here. And thanks. I’m still in a bit of a state of shock about the whole thing.”
I nodded. “Please don’t feel like you have to open up to me about anything. I just, you know, didn’t want to avoid the elephant in the room.” I rocked my ice-filled cup back and forth on the tabletop. “And wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”
“Oh no, I’m fine to talk about it. I could use an ear, actually. I don’t have a lot of girlfriends in this town. Or anywhere, for that matter. Mac has pretty much been my sole sounding board for fifteen years.” She sighed. “Which I’m regretting now, obviously.”
“What happened? I know this sounds cliché, but you guys seeme
d so happy.”
“We were, for the most part. Something happened.”
I raised my eyebrows. Who would cheat on Iris? Or did Iris cheat on Mac? The pickings around here seemed slim on both ends considering their presumed standards.
“Sarah, I’m pregnant.”
“Shut up. I thought you said—”
“Yes, I did. Neither of us thought we wanted kids. It was an understood agreement, just like I so self-righteously told you.” She laughed curtly. “I can only see the self-righteousness now that I’m on the other side, mind you.”
“But how?”
“Do you know that antibiotics can cancel out birth control?”
“You know what, I do, actually.”
“How did you know that? I mean, I consider myself a fairly informed woman, and I had no idea.”
“If I tell you how I know, do you promise not to judge me?”
“I promise.”
“Teen Mom.”
“What’s Teen Mom?”
“It’s a ridiculous show on MTV that follows the lives of these teen moms. One of them got pregnant the same way you did.”
“Wonderful. I’m in great company.” She laughed again, this time a little more authentically. “I guess there is something redeemable about the show though, if you actually learned something.”
“That’s what I say to Josh every time he catches me watching it.” I laughed too. “Although it’s hard to be taken seriously.”
She smiled. “Thanks for that, Sarah. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. Anyway, I had this horrible sinus infection, which led to the antibiotic prescription, which led to this.” She put her hand on her stomach. “We were both shocked, obviously, but Mac was actually outraged. Saying we should sue the doctor and ranting like a caged tiger.”
“Wow. That must have been really stressful.”
“It was. I was shocked and worried too, but when Mac suggested that I terminate the pregnancy, I just couldn’t do it. It seemed so selfish of me, when so many women can’t even have children to begin with. Like your friend in New York.” She sighed. “I deliberated over it for days, with Mac breathing down my neck all the while, and finally, I told him that I wouldn’t. That I was going to have the baby with or without him.”