Speed of Life

by Carol Weston

  I told Kiki that Alexa had a box of dress-up clothes and also that Alexa’s dad, Bryan, lived in Chelsea with his partner, Brian. “Whoa! Whoa! Back up!” Kiki said, eyes wide. I filled her in, leaving out the soggy-cereal part.

  “I don’t get how Dear Kate married a man who was gay.”

  “He didn’t know. It was a long time ago.” Kiki considered this but looked unconvinced. “And maybe even advice columnists don’t always make the best decisions?” I added.

  We went up the escalator and looked at water lilies by Monet and soup cans by Warhol. But I could tell Kiki was still thinking about Dear Kate. And she didn’t even know the top story!

  I didn’t like holding out on Kiki, but then I hadn’t told Kiki right away about Dad and Dear Kate.

  I offered another tidbit. “They call themselves the Bryans. Alexa’s dad told her he ‘didn’t know himself for a long time,’ but his partner, Brian with an I, said he knew he was gay from birth, ‘from when the doctor spanked his bottom.’”

  Kiki’s mouth fell open. After a while, she said, “You used to have a mom and a dad. And now you have a dad who has a girlfriend who has an ex who has a boyfriend!”

  “Crazy, right?”

  We came across Self-Portrait with Cropped Hair, and I told Kiki that Alexa liked this painting.

  “Scary,” Kiki said.

  “You can say that again.”

  “Scary,” Kiki repeated, and we both laughed.

  I was hoping I could find a painting that spoke to me. As we walked from room to room, I looked and then I stopped in front of Christina’s World by Andrew Wyeth. It was of a woman in a field clutching at the grass and gazing at a faraway farm as if she could never get there. I recognized the painting and the yearning, and I wondered if there would always be times when I’d feel far from home, no matter where I was or who I was with.

  “How’s Sam?” Kiki asked, as if reading my mind.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Just okay?”

  He and I hadn’t talked or texted since the party, and he didn’t acknowledge my dumb video. I almost didn’t blame him. But how could I tell Kiki that I wasn’t spending time with Sam because there was something I wasn’t supposed to tell him—or her?

  “You making any other friends?” Kiki asked, mercifully changing the subject.

  “Starting to.” I told her about Gracie, the sophomore in chorus. “She’s a soprano, and she knows, like, thirty ways to tie a scarf.” Kiki laughed. “Hey, have you talked to Natalie?”

  “Yeah. She’s doing okay. You should call her.”

  I nodded.

  “And how’s my favorite cat?” Kiki asked.

  I said that Pepper still doesn’t want to go outside, which was just as well, but he looks out the window a lot.

  “Fewer cat fights?”

  “Fewer cat fights,” I confirmed.

  “Hey, step-by-step, right?”

  Kiki and I left MoMA, and it started to snow, the first snowfall of the winter. We said good-bye and agreed to meet at the Metropolitan Museum next time and to invite Natalie.

  When we were little, Mom once took Kiki and me to the Temple of Dendur. Afterward, we had a sleepover, and Kiki said we should wrap all our Barbies in toilet paper and bury them in shoeboxes—turning them into mummies. We did, and we left them buried overnight. But the next morning, I remember how relieved I was when we unwrapped them and they all got to “breathe” again.

  • • •

  “I’m home!” I called, then wondered how long I’d been calling Armonk home.

  The house was quiet.

  “Kate?” Alexa was at volleyball, but unless there was a game, Kate was usually home—and happy to emerge from her office.

  “Kate?” I walked into the living room.

  She was slumped on the sofa, one arm dangling.

  “Kate? Kate! Kate!”

  I rushed to her side, my blood running cold.

  Inside my head, a voice was saying, No! No! No! This can’t be happening!

  Kate opened her eyes. “Sofia.” She looked at me and could tell I was about to lose it. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you!”

  “You didn’t,” I lied. “And I’m sorry. I should have let you sleep.”

  “My arm is asleep. Pins and needles.” She shook it. “I was having a nightmare—a day-mare. I’m glad you woke me.” She was still groggy. And I was still shaken. “I dreamed I had a tiny, knit dress,” she said. “It was fluffy and fragile, and I pulled on a string, and the whole thing unraveled.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Well, before I nodded off, I bled a little.”

  “Bled?!”

  “Spotted.” Kate waved her hand in the air as if to shoo it all away. “I left your dad a message.”

  “Should I call 911?”

  “No, no. He’s going to call me back.”

  “I’m going to call him,” I said and ran upstairs and called Dad’s office. His receptionist answered, and I said, “It’s practically an emergency!” then I started to cry. I didn’t want to panic Dad, but I wasn’t going to hang up until I talked to him. My heart was pounding. “Dad,” I said when he got on, “Kate said she bled a little. You should come home, right?” I couldn’t disguise the worry in my voice.

  “If there was a lot of blood, I’d meet her at a hospital.”

  “She said ‘spotted.’ Is that a miscarriage?”

  “Spotting is often inconsequential. Was there cramping?”

  “I’ll ask.”

  “Wait. Listen, Sofia. Just stay with her and call me right back if there’s any cramping or anything. How does she look?”

  “Fine. Tired. A little pale.”

  “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  “What should I do till then?”

  “Make sure she takes it easy. She can have two Advil or Motrin but not aspirin. You got that?”

  “Got it. I love you.”

  I dried my eyes, grabbed two Advil and some water, and ran downstairs. I asked Kate about cramps (she shook her head) and told her what Dad said.

  “Want me to call Alexa?”

  “No. She’s at practice. The Bobcats play Fox Lane tomorrow.”

  For a second, I felt honored to be the one taking care of Kate, then I felt ashamed for feeling honored.

  “Maybe it’s just as well,” Kate said. “Nature taking its course. A blessing in disguise.”

  Miscarriage? A blessing? I’d hated when, a year and a half ago, a lunch lady at Halsey handed me soup and said my mother was in a “better place,” adding, “God works in mysterious ways.” I’d wanted to throw the soup right back at her. God did not need my mom at His (or Her) side! I needed her!

  “Sofia, I know you like the idea of a baby,” Kate continued, “but I’m not a believer in unplanned parenthood. And there are so many risks.”

  “I do like babies,” I said and told her I used to meet Dad at Mount Sinai outside the big window where all the newborns were lined up.

  “I like babies too,” Kate said. “Everyone does. This morning, I got an email from a sixteen-year-old who said she was desperate to have a baby. She has no boyfriend, no money, no job, no diploma, and she’s ‘desperate’ to have a baby!” Kate shifted her weight.

  My heart was still hammering. “You’re right that sixteen-year-olds shouldn’t have babies,” I said. “Children shouldn’t have children.” Coconut padded into the room and jumped onto the sofa. “But, Kate, you’re a grown-up! And Dad’s not going anywhere.”

  She was petting Coconut, and he was purring.

  I couldn’t stop myself. “I know you have a lot of answers,” I added. “But no one has all the answers. And we could help.”

  • • •

  Alexa and I were painting our toenails
. Mine were pink. Hers were blue.

  “Mom said you were ‘a comfort’ to her this afternoon.”

  A comfort? Me? All I’d done was get Advil and spoken my mind. I’d even been feeling guilty about it.

  “Think we should get her flowers tomorrow?” Alexa asked. “For when she comes home from…you know.”

  “I guess.”

  “Mums or dahlias?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Sofia, I know you’re big on babies, but I keep telling you: my mom’s too old. Besides, how many siblings do you want?”

  I studied my pink toes. “Siblings aren’t as bad as I thought.”

  • • •

  My alarm went off, and I pulled on a sweater and jeans and went down to the kitchen. Dad and Alexa were sipping coffee. Kate was looking distracted.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Fine. But I can’t break my fast until…afterward,” Kate replied. “I remember when I learned that compound word in school—breakfast, break fast. I thought that was so interesting.”

  “It’s the same in Spanish,” I said. “Desayuno. Des ayuno.”

  “What is this, a linguistics class?” Alexa asked, yawning. “When are you guys leaving anyway?”

  “In three minutes,” Dad answered.

  “I’m coming!” I announced.

  “Sweetie, that’s not necessary,” Dad said.

  Alexa looked at me and said, “Me too! Like it or not!”

  “Well, if you really want to…” Kate said.

  Next thing we knew, we were all four putting on coats and piling into Dad’s car.

  “What time’s the appointment?” Alexa asked.

  “We’re stopping by my office first. I want to do a sonogram. Assuming the fetus is still viable, we’ll need to be at the clinic by ten thirty.”

  “I bet it’ll be a first for them!” Alexa said.

  “What?” Kate asked.

  “You know: middle-aged lady walks in with two teenage daughters, and it’s the mom with the baby bump.” Alexa chuckled. I didn’t.

  • • •

  At Dad’s office, Kate didn’t bother undressing or putting on a smock. She just climbed onto the examining table, leaned back, and rolled up her shirt. Dad put on his stethoscope, squirted clear goop onto her belly, and moved a transducer across her skin. He looked at the screen of his ultrasound machine.

  “Okay, ladies, we’re looking for signs of life.” Dad stared at the monitor, and Alexa leaned in as though she were watching an action movie. “If this is too much for anyone”—Dad looked right at me—“just sit down or close your eyes.” I sat at his desk and stared at a photo he’d always had of Mom, and now, next to it, is one of Kate and Coco. On Dad’s bookshelf, I saw the copy of Girls’ Guide.

  “Found it,” Dad said. He pointed to the monitor. “Ten weeks old. About the size of a plum.” I glanced at the screen. From where I sat, it looked like a mini ET. “Tenacious little critter.”

  “I didn’t miscarry?” Kate’s voice sounded funny, so I got up and walked closer. She’d stood by me in the hospital in July. Standing by her seemed like the least I could do.

  “That’s the heartbeat,” Dad said matter-of-factly.

  “Oh my goodness,” Kate said, her voice husky. “I’m so relieved!”

  “Relieved?” Dad turned toward her. He looked baffled—and maybe a tiny bit hopeful?

  “Relieved! Yes!” Kate had tears in her eyes.

  “Katie, I don’t understand—”

  “Gregg, let’s cancel that other appointment.”

  “Cancel? Really?”

  She reached for his hand. “Gregg, we can do more tests, of course, but…I want to have this baby!”

  “You do?”

  Kate nodded.

  “You’re sure?” Dad sounded afraid to believe it.

  I was too. But I could feel myself starting to smile.

  “Yes. I’m sure. Gregg, I’m sure!” Dad’s eyes got big, and Kate turned to us and said, “Girls, we’re having a baby!”

  “Whoa, Mom! Whoa!” Alexa looked ashen. “Hang on. Is that a good idea?”

  “It’s not an idea.” Kate laced her fingers on her belly. “It’s a baby—it’s our baby!”

  • • •

  I was late for English. I’d missed class the day before, and I didn’t want to have to get a late pass. I ran down the hall—and right into Sam.

  “Sam!”

  “Sorry, do I know you?”

  “Oh, Sam! Can we talk fifth period? I’m late.”

  “Late?” He made a face. “You’re not late, Sofia. You’re absent.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “What’s it look like?” He met my eyes. “Do you really think you can press Pause on people and expect them to stay in the picture? That’s not how it works, Sofia. At least not for me.”

  I didn’t want Sam to be mad at me, but I hadn’t wanted Alexa to be mad at me either, and I guess I was more afraid of her.

  Then again, how could I have been so obtuse? And what if Tifini had already asked Sam to the Snow Ball? Or pulled an Alexa and jumped him? I put my hand on Sam’s arm, but he stepped away.

  “When I was with Alexa,” Sam said, “she called all the shots. Friends with or without benefits—it was always up to her.”

  “Sam—”

  “I don’t like getting played. And you and Alexa—”

  “Sam, no! I’m sorry.” I looked up. “Sometimes, I think I don’t know how to have a relationship…”

  He rolled his eyes. “Then isn’t it time to learn?”

  “There’s something I haven’t told you,” I said.

  “Great. Here we go. What, you have some guy in the city?”

  The bell rang.

  “No! It’s not even about me. Or you. It’s about Kate.”

  “Kate?” Sam looked impatient.

  “She’s pregnant.”

  He looked like that was the last thing he expected me to say. “Kate? Kate Baird? Is that even possible?”

  “Yes. I guess for a while, it was a maybe baby. But now…it’s a baby in May.”

  “Alexa must be in shock!”

  “She almost fainted yesterday in my dad’s office. She’s not thrilled.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Kate didn’t want us to. And Alexa made me promise not to. She didn’t want people blabbing.”

  Sam looked offended. “I’m not people, Sofia,” he said. “And I don’t blab.”

  “You’re right,” I said, ashamed. “I’ve been an idiot.” I reached for his hand and hoped he wouldn’t pull away. He didn’t.

  “Listen, Sofia,” he said, “you can always talk to me. What are boyfriends for?”

  I kissed him right then and there in the hallway. And then I kissed him again. And then I kissed him a third time.

  And then I ran to get a late pass.

  • • •

  Kate and Dad went to Parents’ Night. Dad said it would not be like at Halsey, where some teachers were neighbors, some parents were famous, and some school events felt like a Who’s Who—and occasionally Who Was.

  The electric garage door shuddered, and Dad and Kate clomped up from the basement. I took a homemade pumpkin pie out of the fridge, and Alexa put out plates.

  “So what’d you think?” I asked.

  Dad went first. “Pretty good, all in all. Mr. Greer praised your ‘facility with language.’ Dr. Pavlica appreciates your ‘lab results.’ And your math teacher thinks you should ‘work harder.’”

  “Like I’m not trying?”

  “Oh, and your history teacher, Mr. C, says you came ‘very well prepared’ from middle school.”

  “Last year, I had a major crush on him,” Alexa said. “It was very
motivating actually. This year, I have Mom’s old history teacher, Mr. Bagwell. The guy’s a bulldog.” She puffed out her cheeks.

  “Gregg and I also got to meet Señor Muñoz together,” Kate said. “Alexa, he’s very impressed by how much you’ve learned.”

  “Did you guys tell anyone—?” Alexa pointed at her mother’s stomach.

  Dad shook his head. “No. Too soon.”

  “Good,” Alexa said. Was she still hoping the pregnancy might end on its own?

  “Do you realize it was only nine months ago,” Kate said, “that I spoke at Halsey School for Girls?”

  “Wow,” I said.

  “A lot can happen in nine months,” my doctor dad added.

  • • •

  Sam called after practice. And I apologized to him again. “I never meant to freeze you out.”

  “So come warm me up,” he replied.

  “How about if you come here? It’s been a while. And no one will be home for a while.”

  “I’ll be right over.” His words felt like a hug, and as we were hanging up, without thinking, I almost said, “Love you” into the phone.

  Minutes later, I opened the door for Sam, and we started kissing in the living room. “Warmed up?”

  “Not quite yet,” he said.

  After a while, I thought I heard Alexa’s car turning into the driveway, but I was wrong. And then I couldn’t help myself—I asked if everyone knew that he’d gone out with both Alexa and me.

  “Who knows? Who cares?” Sam said, and I wished I could feel that way. But it still felt weird that my boyfriend had been my sort-of sister’s sort-of boyfriend. “I was stupid to ever tell anybody anything last year,” he added, and we agreed that the truth can be tricky—knowing when to share stuff and when to shut up. “Tell you what,” he said. “How about if I tell you something that nobody else knows?”

  “Okay…”

  He stroked my hair. “Ready? You and Alexa both kissed me first.” He smiled.

  “Wait. What?”

  “It could be that I’m irresistible or that the Baird-Wolfe women are extremely aggressive. Something in the water?”

  I decided to confess that I had never made out with anyone before that afternoon in the windmill, that those were my first kisses. He hugged me, but then I ruined the mood by asking when was the last time he and Alexa had kissed. “I know about Halloween and the Snow Ball, but…”