by Lauren Rico
“What on earth is all the fuss about?” someone says. That’s when Trudy Corrigan steps out from behind a life-sized rendering of a woman with wings, and wearing a beanie on her head. David stills instantly at the sound of her voice.
“Holy cow …” I gasp under my breath.
“More like ‘holy shit,’” Matthew chuckles from next to me. “That woman is like a ‘baby whisperer’ or something.”
He’s hit the nail on the head. My boy’s huge hazel eyes track on the tall, lean woman as she makes her way toward him. The woman with the identical, huge, hazel eyes. When she’s close enough, he holds out his arms to go to her. Nat shoots a questioning glance our way and I nod my okay.
Trudy says something to her that I can’t hear and it makes Natalie smile. She hands him over and I watch in awe as David immediately wraps his arms around her neck, snuggling his little head against her chest. It’s as if he’s known her his entire life.
“If I weren’t seeing it … I’d swear it wasn’t possible …” Matthews mumbles. “That kid never goes to strangers.”
“Oh, it’s possible,” quips Brett from behind us, putting an arm over each of our shoulders. “My mother has never met a toddler she couldn’t tame.”
I watch in awe as she bounces him gently, whispering something in his ear and kissing his carrot top. In a moment, Maggie joins them and he perks up, excited to chatter at her.
“You were great, Julia,” Brett says, and I get my own smooch on the cheek.
“Thank you, Brett! I’m really glad you guys could come … and that you brought your mom.”
“Oh, that was all her,” he informs me. “She hasn’t stopped talking about what a remarkable woman you are since you had breakfast.”
“Really? I thought maybe I’d …put her off a little. We talked about some serious stuff and I didn’t agree with everything she had to say …”
Brett shrugs in his navy suit jacket and runs a hand through his hair, a slightly darker shade than his mother’s. “Trudy doesn’t take many things personally, Julia. And she’s not one to hold her tongue, so she’s used to having difficult discussions. Still, she seems eager to spend more time with you and Matthew and the chubby tornado over there,” he says with a chin nod in David’s direction. Just then, my son looks up and spots him.
“Uncaaaaaaa!!!” he screams, making Maggie, Trudy and everyone in a three-block radius wince from the volume.
“Uh-Oh! I’ve been summoned by the prince!” Brett says. “Hey, are we still having dinner at Tucci’s after this?”
“I hope so,” I groan. “I was too nervous to eat all day and now I’m starving. Will your mom be joining us?”
He shakes his head. “No, she’s going to head back to the brownstone. In fact, I was hoping maybe she and Nat could share a cab …just so I know she gets home safely.”
“Oh, of course!”
“Hey,” Matthew interrupts, “why doesn’t she just go back to our apartment with Nat? David would love it and you know how interesting Natalie is. They can order some dinner in.”
“Now that is a great idea,” Brett agrees. “I won’t have to worry about her sitting in my apartment all alone. Let me go suggest it …”
No sooner is he gone than I smell Old Spice close by. I’d know that scent anywhere. When I turn around, Dr. Sam is smiling at me, drink in one hand, overflowing plate of goodies in the other.
“Dr. Sam!” I exclaim as I gingerly try to navigate around his perishables so I can get close enough to give him a kiss on the cheek. He’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Julia! Your playing was breathtaking, as always. You make me so proud!”
I can feel the familiar warmth of color rising to my cheeks.
“Oh, you! Stop being so bashful, already! Don’t you know you’re the toast of the classical music world right now?”
“Stop it!” I mumble. “You’re embarrassing me!”
“You two sound like a teenager and her father,” Matthew grins with a chuckle.
“Well, you are the closest thing I have to a dad,” I say softly, putting a hand to his lapel.
Just then, Lester Morgan, the Kreisler Competition Director, and host of this oversized soiree, breezes past on his way to the other end of the room.
“Julia!” he says over his shoulder. “Don’t go too far, please, it’s nearly time for your toast!”
He’s gone before I can respond, but he somehow manages to send a waiter our way with a tray of champagne flutes.
“Oh, just seltzer for me,” I tell the young man. He nods and slips away again.
“My dear girl,” says Dr. Sam with alarm in his voice, “don’t you know it’s bad luck to toast with water?”
“I’m not drinking right now,” I reply and give him my best, Mona Lisa smile. He gets it.
“Oh. Oh! Julia, are you …?”
I nod and Matthew gives me another side squeeze.
“I am. We’re expecting another baby in the early spring. I was hoping to get through all of this before we told anyone.”
He’s beaming, like the proud grandpa that David already knows him to be.
“I’m so glad things have finally settled down for the two of you,” he says
“Not too loud!” I caution jokingly. “You’ll jinx us, Dr. Sam!”
“Ah, good point! Now, then, where did that lad with the champagne go?” he mutters as he wanders off in search of another drink.
“Hey, Mrs. Ayers,” Matthew says as soon as he’s out of earshot. “No more talk about jinxes, okay? Everything is going to be just perfect from here on out. Understood?” he asks, putting a hand on the camouflaged swell of my belly.
I put a hand to his face in response. “I love you, Matthew Ayers.”
He smiles so broadly and once again I’m struck by how handsome he looks in his suit. Those amber eyes, the tousled brown hair … No, actually, he looks hot. He leans down and gives me another kiss, this time deeper and longer. I find myself standing on tippy-toes just to be closer to him. I’m tempted to take this man and sneak out the side door, but it’s too late. I catch sight of Lester, waving at me frantically from the other side of the gallery.
“Do you want me to go with you, or wait for you?” my husband asks.
“With me. Always, always with me.”
He gives a quick bow and offers me his arm like some chivalrous suitor out of a Jane Austen book.
“I’d kill for a drink right now,” I say, forcing a smile as they all start to applaud my success.
Julia 29
The wineglass is almost to Brett’s lips when it stops short, sending tiny waves of Shiraz spilling over the rim and onto his shirt.
“Oh, fuck!” he says, looking down at his newly bloodied chest briefly before looking back at Matthew. “You’re making that shit up,” he accuses with a laugh.
“I shit you not,” Matthew responds, shaking his head solemnly. “I wish I was. Julia is determined to get my kid’s ass kicked on the playground.”
“What? Stop it!” I say, smacking his arm. “God! What is with you and the baby names? I make a few … original suggestions, and suddenly I want our child to be bullied?”
“What was it again? Bass Cleff?” Brett teases.
I put my hands on my hips. I’m not amused.
“Crescendo,” Matthew corrects.
“Oh, no! Poor little Crescendo!” Brett says in a tortured voice. “God, those kids can be such douchebags! Julia! Why, Julia? Why?”
“Okay, okay,” I moan. “Knock it off!”
We’re two bottles of wine too many into this little ‘after party’ at Tucci’s, down the street from the Beau-Radcliffe Gallery. Well, more accurately, Matthew and Brett are. Maggie’s a bit tipsy, too, and I’m finding it’s not as much fun being the only sober one at the table.
“I’m thinking Glockenspiel,” Matthew says, ignoring me.
“Are you sure?” Brett counters. “Dude, I was thinking Cadenza or Allegro or maybe Forte …”
“Okay, okay! Enough already!” Maggie laughs as she passes the basket of bread in my direction. “Leave Julia alone. She’s just trying to find an original name that has some meaning to her.”
Brett leans over and kisses her cheek sweetly. “That’s my girl. Always coming to someone else’s defense,” he murmurs.
She swats him with a linen napkin.
“I’m serious! Knock it off!” she says more sternly, and then, she smiles and rolls her eyes. “Ugh. I knew Julia and I should have gone out and left the two of you at home!” she groans.
“No, no. I’m sorry, Maggie,” Matthew says with a contrite smile. “Julia knows I’m just teasing. I don’t care what we call the baby, I just want to get him or her into the world safely.”
“Good answer,” I say with a smile.
There’s a whirl of activity around us as two servers deliver beautiful plates, piled high with Italian delicacies meant to be shared family-style. My mouth is watering.
“Dig in, everyone!” Maggie says, starting the circulation of the platters and plates and bowls filled with our Italian feast.
“Wow, this all looks so amazing!” I say as I ladle a river of sauce onto a mountain of pasta. “Good restaurant choice, Maggie!”
“Thanks! I love to come here so I can try a little of everything.”
“Oh, yeah. And she means everything,” Brett teases. “Careful! You can run-up a bill that’s more than your bow is worth here, Matthew.”
“No worries about that tonight,” Matthew says, holding up the empty bottle for our server who hurries off to find an opened one. “Julia’s got the tab tonight,” he grins.
“Hmm?” I ask distractedly, having been caught glancing at my phone.
“Don’t you worry, Mama Bear, Baby Bear’s doing just fine,” he says, nudging my arm with his.
I nudge back and smile.
“Yeah, I don’t know, if I were you guys, I wouldn’t be worried about what’s going on now. But I would be losing sleep over what David will do when he has an accomplice!” he chuckles.
Matthew looks at me, his face suddenly panic-stricken.
“Shit, Julia, he’s right,” he says with deadly seriousness. “We are so fucked.”
Part Four
Jeremy 30
“Twenty bucks,” I offer, pulling my wallet out of my pants pocket.
“Dude, I can’t …”
“Fifty.”
“Fifty?”
Ah, there it is. The pimply kid scratches his head underneath the ridiculous baseball cap with the meatball on it.
“Come on, man,” I coax him with faux male bonding. “I want to surprise my girlfriend by putting her engagement ring in the box and delivering it myself!”
He looks uncertain. Last chance before I knock you over the head with a brick and take it from you, you little shit.
“Seventy-five. It’s all I’ve got, but you have to give me the hat, too.”
Sold! The hat is on my head, the box is in my hand, and he’s strolling back down the block counting the cash in under five seconds. I pull the hat a little lower down on my forehead in case there’s someone in the lobby who’s seen me before. But when the doorman opens the door to let me in, I see that won’t be a problem.
“Delivery for 16D,” I announce matter-of-factly to the rent-a-cop at the front desk. He nods and calls up to confirm they’re expecting me. They are. Well, they’re not expecting me. Just the pizza. I smile once the elevator doors slide closed and I’m on my way up to the place where it all began for Julia and me.
I walk to the door and keep my head down to the peephole when I ring the bell.
“Papa Paulie’s delivery,” I call out cordially.
“Just a second!” is the muffled response.
I hear her thumping around in there, presumably getting my payment and tip. I hear her pull the peephole cover aside and hold my breath. When I hear the deadbolt unlock, I exhale. Then comes the doorknob lock. I shift the pizza box to my left hand and make a fist with my right.
The door opens, inch by inch, as if in slow motion. The bitch is smiling at the top of my hat, cash in hand. I lift my head and see the immediate light of recognition on her face. Her mouth opens to say something, or maybe to scream, I’ll never know which, because she never gets it out. I punch her so quickly, and with so much force, that she’s knocked back through the tile foyer and onto the carpet of the living room. I step inside, quickly locking the door behind me. She’s groaning from the floor.
I drop the box on the breakfast bar and lose the hat on my way to squat down next to her. Before she can even think about doing anything, I pull the hypodermic from the case in my pocket and jab her arm with it. She’s out cold within a matter of thirty seconds. Nice. I wasn’t a hundred percent certain this shit would work. You never know when you order online. I put the case away with the remaining hypodermic. This one’s got Julia’s name written all over it.
There’s no way I’m picking this chick up, so I grab her from under the armpits and drag her into Julia’s bedroom. The bedroom where we spent many a sleepless night. I’m able to get her up onto the bed and leave the room, closing the door behind me. That’s when I hear him.
“Nata!”
I walk slowly to the other side of the hall, to what used to be Matthew’s bedroom. I notice the new blue color from here. A few steps more, and I spot elephants on the walls. When I stick my head in the room, there’s the big white crib with more elephants hanging over it. And there he is, I can see him lying down through the slats. I can’t decide if I care enough to get a good look at the brat. Oh, what the hell.
He doesn’t seem at all alarmed when I peer down at him, quite the opposite, actually. He gives me a big sloppy smile, and I spot a few tiny white teeth. Well, there’s no denying it, this kid is mine. I see myself all over his face. The eyes are the same and he even has my arched eyebrows – though his are red. Really not a bad looking kid, as far as rugrats go.
“You be quiet. You hear me? I don’t want to deal with a screaming kid,” I say down to him.
He just smiles and laughs, kicking his legs up and down excitedly. I reach above the crib and wind the mobile so the elephants start a slow spin above him, to the strains of Brahms’ Lullaby. He fixes his tiny mini-me eyes on the mobile and his lids start to droop immediately.
“Well, that was easy enough,” I mutter. “Let’s hope for your mother’s sake that she’s as cooperative as you are.”
Julia 31
The apartment is dark when I come in. Why is it so dark in here? I drop the cello case next to the door and hang my purse on the hook.
“Nat?” I call out.
Silence.
“Natalie?”
I glance at my watch. It’s nearly midnight. Maybe she’s fallen asleep? But that’s not like her. I walk into the kitchen, no note. In fact, there’s no sign that anyone has been in here since I left this afternoon. I walk out into the living room, which is totally still, totally silent and totally empty. I flip the switch for the lights but nothing happens.
“Dammit!” I mutter to myself.
Well, just two more places they could be, if they’re anywhere in this apartment. I take a left down the hall to the baby’s room, which used to be Matthew’s room when we were just roommates. I stick my head in the door first and can clearly see David in his crib by the glow of the elephant nightlight in the corner. I breathe a sigh of relief. Okay, she must be taking a nap in my room. Not like her, but not out of the realm of possibility either. But before I confirm my suspicion, I need to confirm that all is right in David Land. I slip my shoes off in the hallway and pad silently into the room so I can peer over the rail of his crib.
And there he is, my sweet little boy. He’s on his back, looking up at me with a smile. He gurgles softly, kicking his legs as if he’s riding a bicycle. I can tell he’s sleepy, but he wants to play. If I keep things low-key enough, he’ll just go back to sleep. Or, I could just pull him out and smother him with k
isses, which is what I want to do. But he’s going to have to wait a second while I track down Nat.
“You stay put, little man. You hear me?” I say softly, and am rewarded with his big, sloppy, gummy grin.
I take a step, continuing to wave at him as I make my way out of the room backwards. I’m almost to the door when I hear a familiar squeak behind me, the hinge of the closet. But I’m a split second too late. From behind me come two strong hands, one grabbing my waist and pulling me back, the other clamping down over my mouth. I try to pull away, but my stockinged feet slip uselessly on the hardwood floor.
Oh my God! Oh my God!
All I can think about is getting away from whoever – whatever – this is and getting David out of here. I start to struggle, kicking at the person behind me, clawing at his arms, slamming my head back against his chest. But I’m only succeeding in wearing myself out. Then I feel breathing, hot against the side of my face.
“Shhhhhhh,” his voice whispers soothingly in my ear.
I shake my head violently, defiantly, but I’m no match for his strength. Jeremy’s strength. Who else could this possibly be? Just the thought of it makes me dig my nails into his arm around my midsection.
“Hey, knock it off, Jules!” he demands, and my suspicion is confirmed.
Son of a bitch! He’s in my home! He’s been in here with my child. I’m not scared now, I’m furious. I twist and writhe and try to slam my weight down on his instep, but he’s too fast.
“Enough!” he hisses in my ear as I try to get a garbled scream past his hand. He pulls me hard up against his body, his face so close that I can smell the beer on his breath.
“Listen to me, if you don’t settle down right now and do what I say, little David isn’t going to be smiling for very long. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Oh, Christ.
My heart sinks as I realize I’m totally and completely stuck. It’s not just me anymore.
“Do. You. Understand?” he repeats the question, more gruffly this time.