“She’s at Gymboree play group with Emmy. Alex and I will be swinging by over there after the game. Do you like it?” She locks arms with her best friend.
“Love it! Another one from the Alexander McQueen collection! Before or after he died?” Betty shrieks excitedly.
“After. I couldn’t bear to pay what I paid for it, let alone any of the collectibles,” she explains with a laugh. “Alex convinced me to grab it given that you can’t buy it anywhere else but in Paris. What have you been up to?”
“Nothing much. The kids have so much going on these next few weeks. Lindsay’s in tons of summer camps, Michael’s spending a month in the US with his grandparents, and Pauline is ready for preschool.”
Three children in ten years. While we’ve always known that she would make a wonderful mother, she has exceeded anything Isa and I had ever expected.
Their conversation is interrupted by the coach announcing the ending prayer. We bow our heads down but I can see the women still huddled in conversation.
“It’s amazing how he looks so much like his father,” Betty whispers, nodding her head in Eddie’s direction. “And I did see that bitch making a move on your husband.”
“Eh. What else is new?” The look on Isa’s face is nonplussed. She’s used to the basketball moms making their moves and knows I don’t pay them any attention.
I take her hand and she grips it possessively. Betty sneers at me as I shrug my shoulders.
“So,” Isabel continues, “do you guys want to come over for dinner this weekend? We can catch up then. I’m going to have to round Eddie up so we can get going to Maddy’s session next. Did I tell you that the doctor thinks she isn’t socializing enough and that’s why her eyes aren’t focusing correctly?”
“No, you forgot to tell me that part,” Betty answers.
“She looks at us more now, so it looks pretty promising. Alex really thinks it’s just a matter of time and I tend to believe him.”
I bob my head in agreement with her last statement. We were concerned about Maddy’s inability to focus on objects as soon as she was able to see, but we’ve already seen a dramatic change in her movements after the therapist suggested a weekly baby playgroup.
“Wait, I know we both have to go, so quickly—tell me more about Paris.” Betty gently holds her arm, refusing to allow her to leave.
“It was wonderful, B! For the first time in a while, I wasn’t on my laptop and Alex wasn’t on his phone. It was so romantic, so relaxing. We had a great time. I’m ready for another baby. Oh, gosh. I’m rambling, I know.”
Isabel’s bright disposition is heartwarming; I can hardly tear my eyes away from her smiling face. I’m extremely touched by her demeanor, especially because I know that she holds nothing back from Betty. During our last day in Paris, we did decide that we would try for another baby. And we tried four times that day. For a couple of old people, I would say that we’re still pretty amazing in the stamina department.
I can’t believe I tuned out for a while there. Jesus, Ailey. You’re supposed to be eavesdropping on your wife’s conversation. What did I miss?
“See you this Saturday?” Isa is kissing her goodbye.
“Yes! We’ll be there for dinner. Text me later and tell me what you want me to bring. There’s this new cake that I want to try. I’ll plan on bringing it for desert.”
The rest of the week goes by quickly. Isabel and I spend a few late nights in the office. I’m trying to close on a deal and we’re stuck in the twilight zone of meetings. Isabel has begged off on a couple of client dinners to stay home and regroup with the children. Another quality that I love about my wife. She keeps everything grounded when things just swirl out of control and our life becomes a flurry of activity.
“You go ahead,” she’ll say, “I think I should stay home and have dinner with Eddie and Maddy.”
Those nights out are usually late and so I often find myself slipping into bed with her and Maddy while trying not to trip over Eddie, who camps out on our floor. She still doesn’t like to sleep alone, something that has carried over from her childhood. I don’t mind having the kids with us, although I often joke that we would probably be just as happy in a one-bedroom condo as we are in our seven-bedroom home.
It’s a lazy Saturday afternoon and Maddy and I are in the pool. Eddie is running around in his swim trunks, dribbling a basketball on the cement walkway leading to the pool house. Isabel is sitting right next to us with her legs dangling in the water.
“What time are Leigh and Betty coming over?” I ask as I hold Maddy above the water in her swim ring. “Maddy, show Mommy your paddles.”
Maddy happily indulges us and makes a few insignificant baby kicks in the water. She is truly a gorgeous child. Brown hair like her mother, deep blue eyes like her father. Her skin is fair and her smile will always be the death of me.
“Great job, baby girl!” Isabel claps her hands elatedly. “Sixish, I think,” she responds to my question.
“I think we have time for a short nap.” I narrow my eyes pointedly at her and she wickedly wiggles her eyebrows.
I lift Maddy up and seat her next to her mother while I hoist myself up with my arms and get out of the pool. Isa carries our daughter, who is now wrapped in a towel, into the house.
“I’m going to have Emmy put her down for her afternoon siesta,” she says. “Eddie! We’re going inside. If you want to keep playing with that ball, please take it to the court. I don’t want you running around the pool by yourself, okay? Auntie Betty and Uncle Leigh will be here in a few hours.”
Isa and I walk hand in hand back into the house. I’m getting excited just thinking of what lies ahead. I’ve missed my quiet moments with her this week.
“Are Lindsay, Mike and Pauline coming, Mom?” Eddie calls behind us.
“Yes, they are. So why don’t you rest for a while so you can stay up late tonight?”
I will never ever tire of taking those afternoon naps.
***
“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.”
—Edgar Allan Poe
“Hi! The Taylors are here!”
Betty and her family find us outside on the patio sitting around a coffee table laden with appetizers and drinks. Eddie is sprawled out on the loveseat playing with his iPad. I swear that kid is going to be the next big video game mogul. His ability to decipher code and break through barriers and levels is nothing short of genius.
“What’s up, Taylor?” I get up and shake Leigh’s hand.
“Not much, dude. We just saw each other two days ago!” He says sarcastically.
I ignore his smart remark and walk towards the bar to get everyone some drinks. Mario, the bartender, is ready to serve us. “Baby, what would you ladies like to drink?” I call out to Isa, who’s standing by the sliding doors about to go into the house with Betty and the kids.
“Don’t worry about us, A. We’ll be back in a minute. Just want to show Betty the painting that we got in Paris.”
Leigh and I settle down on the couch with two glasses of scotch.
“Let’s go play Payday,” Lindsay says as she and Mike hover around Eddie, who’s still lost in his game.
“Okay,” Eddie agrees as he gets up from the couch. Eddie and Lindsay are the best of friends. He complains about her bossing him around, but secretly, I think he’s fine with it. The two younger children have run into the house to ransack Eddie’s room.
“So, did you tell her yet?” Leigh stretches out on the couch and hands me a cigar.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Listen, dude, it’s going to show up here soon.”
“Yeah, but she’s going to think it’s just one like the others I’ve purchased.”
“She’s not an idiot. Her father was into those things. She’ll know.”
“Bro, she’s been really worried about stuff lately. I don’t want to freak her out. I’ve been asking for this for the past five years and it’s always been a no.”
“Worried about what? In what way?”
“I don’t know. Somehow I think it’s related to losing her mom and how she’s really allowed herself to depend on me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. In fact, I take pleasure in it.” I wink at him and he laughs.
“Do you think all husbands are as lucky as we are?” he muses. “I mean, twelve years later we’re still going at it like rabbits.”
“Don’t question it, dude. All good.” I snicker and he gives me a high five. “The dickhead in Paris finally shipped the steering wheel I ordered months ago. Wanna check it out?”
My garage isn’t your typical storage port and the cars in it aren’t your typical cars. Leigh has one just like it and we’ve shared our love for these beautiful machines for years. The space is clean and organized, painted white with plexiglass shelves strategically mounted on the walls. There’s a direct pipe in from the home sound system and a sitting area with a huge flat screen television. A small, sleek bar completes my man cave. Isa’s taste in design is impressive. She worked with the architect to get this all set up for me and it couldn’t be more perfect.
Leigh walks around the cars, surveying each one. I don’t know why the dude does this every single time we’re in here when he’s seen these cars so often. Every time either one of us receives a shipment, we’re there to check things out for each other.
“Hmm,” he sighs, “I can never tire of looking at these babies. Which one did you take out to the beach house a few weeks ago?”
Okay, I guess I have to tell you what Leigh is salivating over. We have a seven-car garage with six cars in it. In all humility, I will say that I consider myself very lucky to be blessed with the ability to have these cars. He’s specifically feeling up a red Bugatti Veyron Super Sport, but next to it is a Lamborghini Aventador, which sleeps beside a Lamborghini Sesto Elemento, which cuddles with a Rolls Royce Phantom. Our everyday cars are more modest; Isa rides in an Audi Q7 and I drive a Range Rover.
“I took the Lambo Av with Isa. She looks good in that car.”
“You’re so whipped, man, it’s unreal.”
“And you’re not?”
“Shut up. We really shouldn’t be advertising that. Most of the deals you cut are based on your good looks, Ailey.”
“Fuck you.”
“Tell her, man. I can keep it in my garage for as long as you need, but you have to tell her.”
I’m done talking about it for now. “I will, man. I will. I’ll have to find the perfect time to tell her; leave that up to me. For now, let’s head back inside and get our asses next to those women. Lord knows what they’re up to in there.”
We walk back to the patio and Leigh starts playing with the kids, who are now running around the garden. Isa and I had the pool gated for Maddy who’s sitting in her walker with her bare feet on the grass while the older kids are running around her.
I scoop her up and she giggles and kicks her legs as I carry her in my arms to chase the others down. Leigh, Mike and Eddie end up throwing a football around, so I go inside to check on the girls. I enter through the sliding doors and look around for Isa. I find them settled on the white leather couches in the living room, each one savoring a glass of red wine. I round the corner to call out her name, but pause for a moment when I hear the serious tone of their conversation.
“So they’re still happening? Those dreams?” Betty whispers.
“Yes. I had another one while we were in Paris,” she hushes as she turns her head to scan around the room to make sure that no one is listening.
“Is it always exactly the same?” Betty tips her head closer to her friend as she rests her hand on Isabel’s arm.
“It varies at times, but the gist is similar. It’s my mother all dressed in white in this immaculate stone house overlooking the sea. It reminds me of the Aegean Sea in the Mediterranean because the blueness of the water is so stark. She looks so happy; she’s smiling and angelic and serene and her face is as young as she was when I was just a girl.”
“What does she say? Does she do anything?” Betty asks, rapt with the need to know.
“Well, she just stands there while a breeze gently whips her hair and her gown,” she continues.
“I’m envisioning a music video right now,” Betty comments and they both laugh stiffly. “And then what?”
There is a lingering silence between the two of them before Isa moves closer to her friend and leans her head on her shoulder.
“And then out of nowhere, Alex is there sitting on that same balcony swinging his legs. He’s joyous and childlike, sitting there smiling briefly before reaching his hand out to me. And then that’s it. He’s gone.” Her disposition changes immediately. Her face grows pale and she looks at Betty with woeful eyes.
“So what happened in Paris after you woke up?” Betty rubs her arm and urges her to divulge more details.
“That morning, I woke up with a jolt. I freaked out when I felt for him next to me and he wasn’t there. His pillow was still freshly indented, so I knew that he couldn’t have been gone for too long. Turns out he just went for a run.”
“Isa, maybe you’re just overthinking things. You just miss your mother and Alex is such an important part of your life. You’re probably just associating the two of them together in your subconscious,” Betty persists, beginning to sound desperate to allay her friend’s concerns. “I don’t know what to make of them. I’m afraid my mother is trying to tell me something. Since I lost her, what if she’s trying to warn me about losing him too? I’m so happy with my life right now; it’s not like there’s some deep seated anger or hurt about anything. Sometimes I get upset that I’m so clingy. I want him with me all the time. I wait for him at night, I need to feel him next to me. I’m the same with Eddie and Maddy, though it’s not as intense as my anxiety with Alex. Dr. Pressler wants to put me on medication, but I don’t want to go down that route. I wake up with panic attacks, like I’m in a coffin and I can’t breathe.”
My heart breaks for her. When is she going to tell me? I want her to know that she can cling to me all she wants. That I feel the same way about her.
“Isa,” Betty says softly, “I really think that once you tell him the reason for the change in your behavior, he’ll totally understand. It’s not like he minds you being so protective these days. That dork is actually taking advantage of it.”
Shit. She called me out. And she called me a dork. I’m going to interrupt now before she blurts out more stuff to embarrass me. What do they call that? Pillow talk? Lord knows what else Leigh has told her that might give me away. I let out a forced cough as I approach the two of them. Isabel unwinds herself from Betty and they both move away from each other.
“Oh hi!” Isabel smiles warmly and gets up to grab my arm. “Is it time for dinner?”
“Almost. I was just wondering what you guys are up to. Leigh and the kids are outside by the pool.”
***
“One love, One Heart, One Destiny.”
—Bob Marley
I’m sitting at the head of the table with Isa on my left side. Our dining room was recently redecorated to accommodate the pressing need for us to entertain clients at our home, though this is anything but work. Dinner with the Taylors is easy and entertaining, as always. I never cease to delight in the many side exchanges that take place at the table. When the dishes are cleared and the children have left, the conversation is dominated by school and personalities and plans for the summer. Betty is leaning back, her husband’s arm draped across the back of her chair, his hand in hers as it rests on her shoulder. She surveys the newly decorated setting and smiles.
“I really love the way Bobby did this place,” she comments. “The beiges and the blues and the touch of green are perfect. I never thought the contrast would make a huge difference!”
“Your friend here was worried about his ideas at first. But I think she’s glad she decided to give him free rein to bring his creation to life. That mural he painted is his
labor of love for Isa,” I boast as everyone turns to the wall and vehemently nods their head in agreement.
“Are we seeing each other at the Red Cross Benefit at the Mandarin next weekend?” Betty continues.
“Yes, we are! What time do we need to be there?” Isa asks.
“I think cocktails start at 6:30. Let’s meet at seven.”
“Sounds great. Miss Organizer, do you know who’s at our table?” I reach over to hold Isa’s hand as it rests on the table, fidgeting with her wedding ring, turning it around and around.
“No idea. I try to keep out of the table assignments. That way it all stays pretty neutral.”
“Babe, have we sent the check out for that yet?” I ask.
“Yes, we have. The office cut two checks. One in your company’s name and one in my mother’s. You’re not making a speech that night, are you?”
“No. But my dad will be.”
“You boring business people,” Leigh sneers at me as Betty playfully smacks his hand. This guy is living off his royalty payments for years of being at the top of his modeling career. He now dabbles in various film productions and runs his own agency based in New York. He’s done very well for himself; we’ve both been very lucky to find the right investments in this still-weakened market.
Our conversation continues on until our guests decide that it’s past the children’s bedtime and start gathering themselves to go. As we’re hanging out by the front door saying our goodbyes, Betty has an afterthought.
“Oh, wait! I forgot. Isa, I’m going to have to fly to New York to pick Mike up after spending the month with his grandparents. I was thinking that we should add on our annual shopping trip then? Maybe we fly out a week before and then come home with Michael? Leigh takes him there in two weeks.”
I can see that Isabel is ignoring her question. “Bye kids, be good,” she says as she bends down to kiss each one of them on the cheeks.
“Iss, did you hear me? Did you want me to look into getting our flights?” Betty repeats herself.
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