“You’re confusing being judgmental with being honest,” she shouted back.
I felt my eyes brim with tears. “Thanks for being so supportive,” I said softly. Then, I turned and walked out.
“Emma!” my sister called out, but I didn’t turn around. In fact, I started running, and I ran all the way home, which was okay, because it wasn’t more than a quarter of a mile.
When I got to my house, my mother, the babysitter, was all over me. “What happened? Why are you out of breath? Where’s Laura?”
“We…had a fight.”
“Are you crying?” she asked, trying to get a closer look at me.
I put my head down and tried to hide the tears and smeared mascara that was running down my cheeks.
“I’m fine, mom. Everything will be okay.” I kissed her cheek. “Thanks for watching Izzie. Was she okay?”
“She was great,” she said, “I’m worried about you guys.”
“I just need to go to bed,” I said, “We’ll talk tomorrow. Are you okay? Are you staying over I hope?”
Apparently, my parents were still in negotiations, discussing the fallout of my dad’s affair with Mrs. Feldman, the slutty seamstress. The only info my mother had offered earlier was that they were trying to work things out.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Laura had asked angrily.
“Well, I’m not sure I want to,” my mom had said.
“Of course you want to!” Laura snapped.
“Why?” I’d responded, “Her husband’s the cheater, not her.” Those words had left my sister speechless.
“Yes,” said my mother, “I’m sleeping here.” She seemed very sad about that. I hugged her tightly, and although I couldn’t see her face, I knew she was crying. I was too afraid to turn and confirm her tears, though, because the thought of my mother this upset was overwhelmingly devastating, and for tonight, I couldn’t take anything else.
“Good night, Mom,” I said, “I love you. It will be okay. I promise.”
I headed upstairs and that’s when I heard the front door open. “Is Emma here?” I heard my sister ask my mom.
“Yes.”
I heard them talking, but couldn’t really hear what they were saying, and didn’t care. I just wanted to go to bed. After checking on Izzie, I got into my PJ’s and then went into the bathroom to wash off my makeup and brush my teeth.
I was standing at my bathroom sink, drying off my face when Laura appeared in the doorway.
“Hi,” she said.
I didn’t answer her. Instead, I grabbed a tiny bottle of Lancome overnight eye cream and began putting it around my eyes.
“Another free gift with purchase?” she asked with a smile, obviously hoping to lighten things up.
I turned to her. “You know, Laura, you held my hand while I buried my husband, and I can’t even count the number of times I cried in your arms over the past year. And now, after knowing all you know about me and what I’ve been through, you can’t even find it in your heart to support something I want so badly.”
“I don’t want to fight with you,” she said, “But I can’t support you on this.”
“Why?” I urged, “I’ve always supported you. I never told you this, but when you were getting married at 23, I thought you were crazy. But I never said anything because it was your life, not mine. So, I kept it to myself and stood by you. You’re a workaholic. You’ve never had any fun in your life. And that bothers me. But, I never said anything because it’s not my place. And tonight, I wanted you to act the same for me. I wanted you to say, ‘I don’t agree with what you’re doing, but I will stand behind you.’ And you didn’t. I can’t believe it. You’re my sister!”
“That’s right. I’m your sister. That’s why I won’t stand here and watch you screw up your life!”
Now I was ready to explode. “Did you even hear one word I just said?!”
“Look, I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” she responded, turning to leave.
“Why am I not surprised?” I answered bitterly as she walked out.
.
Chapter 14
I couldn’t deny that Laura might be right. I mean, what was I thinking? Just because Preston told me to have the baby, that made it okay? Was I going to have a threesome for him too? What kind of power did this man have over my judgment? Life all of a sudden began to feel like it was spinning out of control. I was the driver, and I was traveling on dangerous roads, with a dangerous person, doing dangerous things.
I thought about the divorce party. I’d met all kinds of interesting people. There was Tony, the guy whose wife died, who was offering me his friendship. Then there was Georgia, the woman with the perfect body, whose husband felt the need to be a swinger. Where was the justice in the world for HER?
And Luke. On a date with Patty! Why did I care so much? Luke and I weren’t together. We’d never even been on a date. Just like me, he had the right to go out with whomever he wanted. So why was I having such a hard time with it? Because at this moment, I decided to finally admit something to myself. I barely knew Luke Sullivan, but I had this weird feeling gnawing at my gut, telling me there was something special happening between us. And the way Luke had winked at me tonight, I knew he felt it, too.
I had this vision of Luke in my future in some significant way. Not necessarily marriage. I wasn’t ready to think about walking down the aisle with anyone. But there was a connection, and a feeling of familiarity about Luke that was lodged in my core. So there it was. The guy who was a noteworthy part of my future was on a date, and I was pregnant with someone else’s baby. Not good. Very unsettling.
I looked closely at my face in the mirror. Did I even recognize myself? I, Emma Bloom was having some random guy’s baby. It was nuts. Had I lost my mind? I pulled up my shirt and looked down at my stomach for a long time. Inside of it was a very teeny tiny person, actually just a bunch of cells at this point, multiplying together as the seconds ticked by. Still, a growing human being was inside of me, its father a non-committal party boy who loved crazy sex with me (and probably a lot of other women).
I touched my tummy and whispered, “Hi, Baby,” and as the words came out of my mouth the weirdest thing happened. I heard a text come through. I went over to the night stand where my Blackberry was and read it.
“How is my baby, Baby?” it read, “Say good-night to him or her for me. Can I see you tomorrow night?”
My heart suddenly soared. This was the first glimpse I had that Preston might actually step up to the plate and come through on this whole thing. Maybe he was capable of being a good father. Maybe things would work out. Maybe my old school, judgmental sister was wrong.
I fell asleep with my anger fading, happiness and excitement taking their place. I would make Laura understand. I would make everyone understand. It would take time, but they would all have to deal with it. Because having been through hell and back, this was my time to do what I wanted. I was having a baby! Creating a life! And yes, maybe the circumstances and the dad weren’t ideal, but having watched the pain of my child missing her dead father, I was perfectly in tune with death and loss. I was not going to apologize or back down, or even make excuses for giving the joy of life.
Thankfully, the next morning, when Isabelle and I and my mom woke up, Laura was already gone. She had an early surgery at the hospital. Only my sister would go to a party and stay out late, knowing she had to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work. I felt beyond guilty thinking about this, because I knew Laura went to the party for me. And this morning, I was happy to have her out of the picture.
I was able to hold my mother off and not get into detail about my fight with Laura, but she did show me a note Laura left me that read, “Emmie, I’m sorry about last night. I just want you to have a good life and I’m worried about you. Everything I say, I say because I love you. L.”
“What does she mean she wants you to have a good life?” asked my mother while pouring Frosted Flakes into Izzie’s bowl.
>
Pouring the milk, I answered, “Mom, it’s complicated. I’ll tell you all about it.” I motioned to my daughter, ever so grateful that I could use her as the excuse not to share my secret. I finished, “You know…after 9:00, when gymnastics starts.” I looked at Izzie, who was watching Big Time Rush and not listening to us. My adorable little girl, who had no clue that her life was about to erupt (again). The guilt was killing me.
“Fine,” said my mother, “I’ll wait here.”
I actually had no intention of telling my mother anything yet, but I figured I could drop Izzie off and then call her from my cell and tell her I’d talk to her later, that I had some errands to run. What a weasel I was. Nonetheless, I wasn’t ready to face Helene with the news of her third grandchild.
Then, low and behold, as luck would have it, my dad called shortly after this conversation and asked her to go out for breakfast with him. So my mother left before us.
I dropped off Isabelle and headed home. There were so many things I could do to preoccupy myself till it was time to pick her up. I could work out or run errands. Or, I could make salsa, or work in my garden. But by the time I pulled into my driveway, I knew exactly how I wanted to spend my morning.
I quickly changed into my bathing suit, grabbed a towel, threw some sunscreen and a bottle of water into a beach bag, and got back into the car. And then I headed east. I lived twenty minutes away from the beach, and could honestly count on one hand the number of times I’d taken advantage of that in seven years. Today, with the morning to myself and so much on my mind, I had a strong urge to sit on the sand and look out over Lake Michigan for the next couple hours.
The second I reached the beach, I took off my flip-flops and walked onto the sand. It was the best feeling the in world. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. I looked at the glistening water and then I looked up at the sky. It was all blue, with one little puffy cloud off to the side. And it was at this moment, I realized how small I was, and how small my problems were. Looking at the big sky and the massive body of water put everything into perspective. I smiled, took a deep breath and a big exhale. And then, the weirdest thing happened. I looked down and noticed an iphone lying in the sand.
“Whoever just dropped their iphone is majorly cutting into my beach time,” I said to myself as I walked up to the shelter where some lifeguards were sitting and chatting.
“Hi,” I said, feeling like I was interrupting some teen-age chit chat.
“Hey, what’s up?” said a friendly guy who reminded me of one of the Jonas Brothers.
I handed him the phone. “I just found this in the sand.”
“Okay, thanks,” he said.
I smiled, turned around, and literally bumped into someone, who turned out to be Luke.
“Emma!” he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.
I giggled, “Oh my God! Luke, hi!”
“What are you doing here?”
“I just decided to come here. You?”
He laughed. “Same thing! I swear to God. Are you here by yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too! I woke up this morning and it was a gorgeous day, so I decided to blow off work and go to the beach. I’ve seriously never done that before. The boys are on a field trip with camp, so here I am. I can’t believe you’re here!”
I was smiling so wide my cheeks were hurting. “I can’t either!”
“Actually, I just lost my iphone,” he said.
“Is this it?” asked Nick Jonas, holding up the phone.
Luke examined the phone. “Yeah! Thanks, man.”
“She found it,” said the lifeguard, motioning to me.
Luke gave me a huge smile. “Really?”
I nodded.
“Unreal! So, would you like to sit together?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Sure.”
Luke then did something that stopped my heart. He took my hand. I could have sworn I heard one of the lifeguards say, “Aw…”
Luke and I walked about 30 feet to the spot where he had his towel, and the entire way, all I kept thinking about was how much I loved Luke’s hand in mine.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I put my bag down and spread out my towel next to his.
“I really can’t believe this,” he said, sitting down, “It’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Great, huh?”
I didn’t answer Luke. Instead, I asked, “So…did you have fun last night?”
“Yeah, good party. You? Who were you with?”
“My sister. Who were you with?”
“Patty Rubenstein, a girl I went to high-school with. She just got divorced.”
“Are you guys dating?”
“Um…not really.”
“You either are or you’re not.”
“Now who’s being territorial?” he flirted.
He was right. I was. But how could I not be? Here I sat, feeling that familiar feeling you get when you’re on a date with someone you really like, yet in my belly I was carrying the child of another man. All I could do was smile bashfully and say, “Touché. If you like her, I’m happy for you.”
“Look, I shouldn’t have said not really. I should have said no. Patty and I are friends. We’ve known each other for thirty years. We reconnected through facebook, and only because we’re both single. We’re just friends, I promise.”
“Patty thinks you’re more.”
Luke smiled, “Maybe she does, but trust me, we’re not.”
“Because you don’t date.”
“Right. Because I don’t date.”
“Still not ready to talk about it?”
Luke shook his head.
I smiled, “Boy, when it comes to bottling things up, you have me beat, which is pretty impressive.”
“It’s just…really complicated. Soon. I promise.”
I smiled at him. “Okay.”
“So, how about you? How’s the young guy? Are you still seeing him?”
“Yes. I’m actually having his baby,” was the honest answer, but I certainly wasn’t going to say that. So, instead I answered with an awkward smile, “Good. Really good.”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed by it. I think it’s great.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Is he still treating you nicely? I’m just making sure. I’m protecting you. Not being territorial.”
“Well, thank you,” I said politely, “Yes, he’s treating me just fine.”
“How does it feel being in a relationship? Do you like it?”
I turned my head to the side to look at Luke, who was doing the same to look at me. It was so odd. I could have been lying next to Laura and talking like this, and I would have felt no more comfortable with my sister than I did at this moment. “Yeah,” I smiled, “I do like it. I don’t really think I’m in a long-term relationship, but it’s really okay.” At that moment I was thinking, “Then why the hell are you having his baby?”
“I agree. I’d be worried about you if the first guy you got involved with after your husband was someone serious. What you’re doing is good. It’s healthy.”
I was dying to add, with sarcasm, “Healthy’s for sure. I’ve created a human being.”
“So, is the guy totally hot? I mean, if I saw him, would I be intimidated?”
I was still looking at Luke when I answered, “He’s pretty hot, but…”
“But what?”
I gave Luke a big grin. “He doesn’t have your eyes.”
Luke’s instant wide grin confirmed that he was digging me hugely. And that made me happy.
We lounged with our faces in the sun and talked for the next hour and a half. Not nonstop, though. Much of the time was spent soaking up the sun and relaxing, to the point where I thought Luke had fallen asleep a couple times. It was comfortable, very natural, and I felt at ease.
We did go for a swim in Lake Michigan, and at one point, Luke found a football that didn’t s
eem to belong to anyone, so we played catch in the water. I thought back to the last time I’d swam in a large body of water with a man. It was on my honeymoon in Jamaica, seven years earlier. And as I recalled the trip, I suddenly began to feel guiltier than O.J. because right now, here on Lake Michigan, with a man I barely knew, I was having more fun than I did all those years ago. Something about being here with Luke made me ask myself a question that caused me to hate my own guts. “Why couldn’t I have been on my honeymoon with this guy?” I wondered. I answered myself, “Because then you wouldn’t have Izzie, you unappreciative, horrible, and I might add PREGNANT person.”
God, I hated myself for having these thoughts. But I couldn’t deny the truth any longer. No, I didn’t want Sam to die, but it was time to be honest and admit that the foundation for our marriage and our relationship in general wasn’t very strong. There wasn’t a lot of substance to it. If I could feel like this, so at ease and so natural with a man I barely knew, what feelings of significance had I ever really had with Sam? It was sad, but very realistic.
A couple hours later, when Luke and I parted ways in the parking lot, I felt like the natural thing to do would have been for him to kiss me. On the lips. He didn’t, though, and I hoped that the look of disappointment I knew I had on my face wasn’t too obvious. Then again, I wasn’t allowed to kiss Luke. I had Preston. And his baby! I was living two separate lives now. Actually, three.
One life was that of a middle-aged sexpot, cougaring like nobody’s business. The next, an infatuated groupie, trying to grasp a little bit of a relationship with a guy who was carrying some baggage, but who seemed otherwise normal, aside from the secret he was keeping that I wanted so much to know about. And my third life, the life of a mother with a sweet, innocent child, both of us still grieving my dead husband. Only now, in addition to that pain, I was beginning to acknowledge that the man I’d vowed to spend the rest of my life with probably would have ended up being my ex-husband had he survived his car crash.
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