A lot of information, Nicole thought. “Jairus still scares me.”
“Sure. He’s a great guy who’s successful and you like him. He’s also the first guy you’ve gone out with since your divorce. Why wouldn’t you be scared?”
“You make it sound so rational.”
“I’m sure you can make my situation sound rational, too. Distance is perspective.” Gabby looked toward the kitchen. “You think there are going to be cookies later?”
Chapter Seventeen
“I can’t believe he did this to me.”
Hayley heard the words, but they came from so very far away. Not underwater, exactly, but from somewhere else. She supposed the actual problem was she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not about her sister’s problems, not about anything.
She’d been home for a couple of days now. In her head, she felt her body start the healing process. She no longer got as tired. She was able to eat. But in her heart—there was nothing. An empty space. Whatever promise there had been, whatever child had waited, he or she was gone. Replaced with an absence that would never be any different.
Morgan sat next to the bed. She covered her face with her hands, then dropped her arms to her lap. “What was he thinking? He didn’t ever talk to me about it. He just did it!”
“Maybe because you didn’t talk to him about getting pregnant,” Hayley said bluntly. She supposed she should be more gentle or diplomatic, but to be honest, she didn’t give a shit.
“This is not the same thing at all,” Morgan informed her. “He had a vasectomy. You can’t take that back. It’s permanent.”
“No, it’s not. They can be reversed. But a child is forever.”
A child was connection and a piece of you that lived on. A child was everything.
“What are you talking about?” Morgan demanded. “A child is something we have together.”
“Yes, you have three of them. You didn’t ask Brent any of the three times. You got pregnant and he had to deal with the consequences.”
“It’s not the same at all. How am I supposed to keep him if I can’t have another baby?”
Because the only reason Brent would stay was because there was a child? Hayley wanted to say that wasn’t true, only she wondered if it was. The only reason Rob had moved back was because she’d been in the hospital.
According to Dr. Pearce, Rob hadn’t left her side for a second. When she got out of surgery, he’d been there. He’d slept in her room. He’d brought her home and had moved back. But only to the guest room, she thought sadly. Only to take care of her. He hadn’t been willing to talk about Switzerland with her before. Now that she couldn’t have children, he had returned.
She’d always assumed they would be one of those still-in-love old couples, shuffling around in their nineties. But what if they weren’t? What if what they had was broken? He’d put limits on their relationship. He’d walked out on her. Now he was back, but it was for the wrong reason.
She told herself not to think about it. That she couldn’t possibly handle anything but getting better. That it would all work out in the end. But she wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
“You’re not listening,” her sister complained.
“No, I’m not.” Hayley looked at her.
Even with no makeup and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, Morgan looked good. Vibrant and sexy. She was a bitch on wheels, but for some reason, Brent adored her.
“Your husband is a really good guy,” she said flatly. “He loves you and the kids. He comes home on time, he does more than his share around the house, he is involved with the after-school stuff.”
Morgan sniffed. “You make all that sound like he’s gone above and beyond. We’re married. He’s supposed to do those things.”
“Yeah, and you’re supposed to treat him like the treasure he is, but you don’t. You treat him like crap and you know it.”
Her sister glared at her. “Are you on drugs? Why are you talking to me like this? What’s wrong with you?”
A question that would have been funny if it weren’t so sad, Hayley thought. When had her life become the stuff of tragedies?
“I’m tired,” she admitted. “And yes, still on drugs, which I guess means it’s okay to tell the truth. You’re a bitch. You’ve always been a bitch. You’ve been one your entire life, which is okay, but there are consequences for that. Brent deserves better than you, and you know it. So start acting like it. He’s supportive and giving and you’re never grateful. It’s never enough. Honest to God, I can’t figure out why he didn’t leave you years ago.”
Morgan stood and glared at her. “I’m going to forgive you, because you’re not yourself. But let me be clear. I will not forget.”
“We all know that, honey. You never do.”
“Hayley!”
The word came out as a screech. Hayley winced at the sound, then figured it had been worth it. While she was being honest, she was going to admit that telling Morgan exactly what she thought felt pretty good. She should have done it years ago.
“I knew you had this dark side,” her sister told her. “I knew it. You’ve hidden it behind your poor-me routine, but this is the real you. Selfish and mean. Do you know how much extra work I’m having to do because of you? All the prep work. All of it. You couldn’t leave well enough alone. You had to obsess about having a kid.”
Hayley looked at her sister. “I’m sorry my emergency surgery and nearly dying is causing a schedule upset in your day.”
“You are such a bitch!”
“That’s enough.”
They both turned and saw Rob standing in the doorway of the bedroom.
“Morgan, I told you Hayley was still recovering. If you can’t control your temper and visit like a normal person, then you need to leave.”
“What? It wasn’t me. You should hear what she said. She started it.”
“Do I look like I care?” He pushed up his glasses. “I didn’t think you coming over was a good idea and I was right. Get your things and leave. Don’t come back without checking with me first. Is that clear?”
Hayley had the strongest urge to stick out her tongue at her sister, but she didn’t. Morgan grabbed her purse and flounced out.
“I won’t be back for a long time,” she called over her shoulder. “You’re going to have to figure out how to survive without me.”
Hayley relaxed back against the pillows. If only that were true, she thought. But Morgan would be back, mostly because she didn’t have any other friends.
She glanced at the clock. It was nearly three in the afternoon. Time for her to get up and walk around the house. She had to keep moving on a regular basis so she wouldn’t develop a blood clot. She was also supposed to be eating right, drinking plenty of water and getting lots of rest. One out of three, she thought. That was something.
Rob returned to the bedroom. When he saw her getting out of bed, he hurried to her side to help her to her feet. Once she was balanced and nodded that she was okay, he stepped back.
“Better?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure what he meant. Was she feeling better physically? She was—that couldn’t be helped. But as to the rest of it, she was less sure about anything.
She walked out into the hallway, then turned toward the living room. At least their house was one story—she didn’t have to worry about navigating stairs. She made it to the slider, then stepped outside onto the patio.
It was warm and sunny—a contrast to how she was feeling on the inside. The fight with Morgan had been the first thing she’d even somewhat enjoyed since coming home from the hospital. She didn’t want to be in her own skin anymore, let alone live her life. Yet here she was, moving one foot in front of the other.
She looked at the backyard. It had been recently mowed and several of the
dead bushes had been replaced with new ones.
“You’ve been busy,” she said.
“I can only check on you so many times in an hour. I had to do something with my time.”
“You should go back to work.”
“I will. On Monday.”
She had another couple of weeks until she was cleared to do the same. And then what? Keep going at her job until she was old enough to retire? Look forward to vacations every couple of years? Repaint the living room?
She felt the desperate sadness that haunted her, filling her, pressing down on her until breathing was impossible. She sat in one of the battered wicker chairs and fought against the tears.
Rob moved next to her. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through this. I’m sorry you had to deal with surgery. I’m sorry you almost died.”
Okay, that she could believe. But the rest of it? “You’re not sorry I have to give up.”
“No, I’m not. I’m glad I don’t have to worry that you’re going to die trying to have a baby. You’re going to get stronger and heal and then we’ll figure out what’s next.”
“We?”
“I never stopped loving you, Hayley.”
Maybe not, but he’d left her. Abandoned their marriage. “How am I supposed to trust you?” she asked. “Believe in you?”
“I’m here.”
“Until I do something else you don’t approve of.”
“It wasn’t like that and you know it. You were going to die.”
“But I didn’t die. You left because I wouldn’t do what you wanted. I don’t know what to do about that.”
“Talk to me.”
She looked out at the new plants. “What is there to say?”
“So after all this, I’ve lost you anyway?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were being unreasonable. No one could get through to you.”
“You’re saying, no matter what, you’ll never leave again? I can depend on you?”
“You’re asking for blind faith.”
She looked at him. “So are you. I’m supposed to get over what happened and at the same time, welcome you back, all the while knowing you could walk out at any time. I had a hysterectomy, Rob. I can’t have children, ever. My dream is over and dead and here we are. So you get what you want, but what do I get? What’s different for me? Nothing.”
“Is that what you think? That I didn’t want children?”
“Not as much as I did.”
He studied her for a long time. “You’re right. I didn’t want them as much as you. I wasn’t willing to let you die. If that makes me the bad guy, I can live with that.”
* * *
One of the hallmarks of a successful marriage was the ability to fight fairly. Every article and relationship book said that. Gabby knew it was true, and important. That both parties stay respectful. That people were able to speak and that they were listened to. That both sides were assumed to be coming from a good place. Voices were calm, facts and opinions shared, consensus reached. It was the right thing to do.
Only Gabby didn’t want to do the right thing. She still wanted to scream and stomp her foot. She wanted to poke Andrew in the chest with a stick of some kind. Not enough to hurt him badly—she would settle for a slight, disfiguring wound.
As that wasn’t going to happen, she’d prepared her points in advance. She’d written them down and practiced her Zen breathing. Or however close she could get for someone who didn’t actually do the Zen thing.
Andrew had arrived home from his business trip the previous evening. They’d agreed to postpone their conversation until the morning, when they were both rested and the kids were in camp. Because no matter the crisis, life went on.
While Andrew had slept, she’d tossed and turned, working on her argument. Now the kids were safely out of the house and she sat in Andrew’s home office, was facing the man she knew she loved.
She told herself they would get through this, but she honest to God wasn’t sure anymore.
“Andrew, I believe you understand that going back to work is important to me,” she began, careful to keep her voice neutral. “You’ve always been extremely supportive.”
“I’m glad you think so. I know that you love the twins and wanted to be home with them, but you also enjoyed working. Being home alone with little kids all day hasn’t been easy. You’re a very good mother.”
She briefly wondered if she’d made a tactical error in location. His office was too much like his power center. Not that she had a power center of her own. What? They would talk in the kitchen?
At least she had the pets on her side. Boomer lay stretched out next to her, his head on her lap, while Jasmine was on the arm of the sofa. Small comfort, but she was going to take all she could get.
“Thank you.” She smiled, then glanced at her notes. “Andrew, I need to work. I love our girls, but I can’t stay home forever. I need to use my brain. I need challenges that aren’t about keeping the twins busy and teaching colors. I want more than this.”
His dark eyes were warm as he nodded slowly. “I know, Gabby. I’ve thought about this a lot. You’re giving up everything. I wish it were different. I mean that. If I could stay home with Makayla’s baby, I would. It’s my turn, right? But you don’t make anywhere near enough to support our family.”
He sounded so rational, she thought bitterly. So “I’m just like you.”
“Of course I don’t make enough. I was working for a nonprofit when we met and I’ve been out of the job market for five years.” Even if she got a job at a big law firm, she would be starting at the bottom. Andrew was a senior executive at a successful firm. He was well compensated for his expertise.
“I’m simply saying that having me stay home isn’t an option.”
“I get that,” she said bitterly. “You get to be the hero, while I’m the bitch who won’t listen to reason.”
“Gabby! I never said that.”
“No. You don’t have to. It’s like offering your kidney to someone when you know you’re not a match. It sounds amazing and you’re at absolutely no risk.”
“Is that really what you think of me? That I’m more interested in semantics than intent?”
“I think you want to be able to tell everyone you did the right thing.” She leaned toward him. “Why am I the only one expected to suffer in all this? I didn’t get pregnant, but only my life is going to change.”
“I think all of our lives are going to change.”
“You know what I mean. Yes, there will be a baby in the house. That will impact all of us. But if I’m to understand what you’re saying has to happen, Makayla will go on with her life unfettered by her child.”
“That’s not what will happen.”
“Really? So she’ll be the primary caretaker of the baby? Except when she’s in school, she’ll feed it and get up at night with it. She’ll change the diapers and dress it while you or I supervise?”
He frowned. “I haven’t thought it through to that level of detail. Is it really necessary all that gets defined today?”
“Yes, it is. I want to know what you think is going to happen. I want to know what you think I’m going to be responsible for with the baby. How much is me and how much is her.” Because they all knew it wasn’t going to be him. Not that she could say that.
“Will she be expected to come home directly after school to care for the baby? Will she have to give up after-school activities or time with her friends?”
The frown deepened. “You’re angry.”
“You’re just now getting that?” She sucked in a breath. “Please answer the question.”
“I don’t know why you’re insisting on making this ba
by a punishment for her.”
Gabby stood and crossed to the bookshelves, then turned back to face him. Tears burned but she refused to let them fall.
“I’m not,” she said quietly. “I’m really not trying to punish her, Andrew. But I’m also trying not to punish myself. Makayla made choices. There need to be consequences for her. From what you’re suggesting, the only consequences are mine. That hardly seems fair.”
“The baby will be a part of our family. We’ll all pitch in. I’ll help when I’m home. Makayla will help when she—”
There it was. The truth unfettered by anything pretty. Bold and ugly and real.
Gabby turned on her heel and walked out of the room. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t have the rational fight. Not right now. Not about this.
Andrew stepped into the hallway. “Gabby? What’s wrong?”
“You said it. You finally said it. I knew, of course. How could I not?”
“I honest to God have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She stopped and turned back toward him. As she gazed into the eyes of the man she would have sworn she loved more than anyone in the world, she wondered if their marriage would survive this.
While the chasm wasn’t as obvious as an affair or a gambling problem, it was still building a wall between them. Not what he wanted her to do as much as his inability to truly grasp his part in the problem.
“You said Makayla would help,” she said softly. “It’s not Makayla’s baby and I’m helping her. It’s the other way around. As far as you’re concerned, she’ll give birth, then go back to living her life. Nothing will change for her but everything will change for me. That’s wrong, Andrew. Worse, you can’t see it. That’s what I can’t get over. You not being able to see it at all.”
Chapter Eighteen
Nicole was as ready as she could be. The house was clean, the grill prepped, the food in the refrigerator. She’d gone with steaks because they were easy, along with her tarragon green bean salad that everyone seemed to like. She’d asked her friend Shannon to recommend a nice but not too insanely priced red wine and in case Jairus preferred beer, she had a six-pack of that. She’d stayed up late making brownies the night before.
The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay) Page 20