The Refrain

by Ashley Pullo

  “But Bethany’s never looked happier – you’re doing something right,” Adam retorts.

  “Happy? Kids fucking change everything. Even the sex is kid-friendly – I’ll be right back.”

  Tango walks to the playground area, swiftly handing off the baby to Bethany. She lays Cole in the stroller, kissing his feet and caressing his toes. “Gracie wants a Popsicle – there’s a truck parked over there.” Bethany points to the other side of playground where kids are lining up to get a mid-afternoon snack. “You want something, Chloe?” she asks.

  Chloe watches as the two interact with each other. It’s playful and cute and very real. “Oh, no thanks,” she answers.

  “Have Hutch help you, I’ll keep an eye on Gracie,” Bethany adds.

  Tango kisses the top of Bethany’s head and then strolls through the playground, excitedly waving over his oldest. All kids like the ice cream truck.

  Chloe strokes Cole’s bare foot and smiles. “Bethany, Cole is an angel!”

  “He’s a stinker and he constantly wants to feed. My boobs are a mess,” she admits.

  Chloe glances at Bethany’s full chest before asking, “Oh, how long does that last?”

  “I did six months with the other two, so I guess I have a few more months to go. You get used to it, though. Tango doesn’t, he looks away.” She sighs and shrugs her shoulders.

  Chloe fidgets uncomfortably on the bench, smiling politely, but clearly affected by hearing the boob news. She stares ahead at Gracie on the swings, her dark hair shimmering in the sunlight, and her little legs pumping with determination. Kids could be fun . . .

  Sensing Chloe’s uneasiness, Bethany lightens the subject. “Did Adam ever tell you we dated? Nothing serious.”

  Chloe’s eyes grow wide and her mouth opens in disbelief. “Really? Omigod, tell me what he was like in high school!”

  Bethany lowers the stroller’s canopy, shading Cole from sun. “Adam was Adam. Mr. Popular, but in a good way. He was the captain of the soccer team and class president – I was a cheerleader, can you believe it?” Bethany laughs as her hand skims over her flaccid stomach. “We only went on a few dates, mostly as friends – there wasn’t any sort of attraction. God, the girls loved him, though. But he never seemed to care . . . Gracie, do not walk up the slide!” Bethany shouts toward the playground.

  Chloe is amazed by this insight into her husband. “And what about Tango – how’d you two get together?”

  Bethany laughs and shakes her head. “Tango, Tango, Tango. Adam and Tango always had this competitive streak between them – they were so cute together . . . anyway, Adam was planning to ask me to prom our senior year, probably because he didn’t want to get involved with anyone. But when Tango found out, he jumped in and asked me first! I lost my virginity that night . . . and the rest, well, it’s Rizzo history.”

  Fate has a funny way of changing the narrative.

  “Wow.”

  “Nothing romantic or sexy, but I’m glad that little pest asked me to prom,” Bethany adds.

  Tango sneaks up behind Bethany with a rainbow-sprinkled ice cream cone. “For my bride,” he says, presenting her with a melting, gooey scoop. “Were you talking about me?”

  “Yep, I said, I hope that pest gets some napkins!”

  “What fun is ice cream with napkins? Right Hutch?” Tango tousles his oldest son’s hair, clearly proud of his achievements as a father and husband. “Beth, honey, we need to start packing things up.”

  Chloe glances at Adam and he nods, knowing that she’s about to ask. “You’re leaving? Let’s go for pizza!”

  Tango pats Adam’s back and says, “Next time, promise. We gotta be in Whitestone by five. Big Italian feast in our future.”

  “Gracie,” Bethany yells toward the playground. “Come on sweetie.”

  Adam helps Tango load up their minivan, chatting about the old days and Lake Erie during all those Buffalo summers. Friendship, like any relationship, is hard work. Wrought with good memories, but inevitably compromised by changing variables.

  Tango hugs Adam and then shakes his hand. It’s awkward, men that were once boys sneaking into R-rated movies, are now just passing acquaintances. They exchange pleasantries and emails, vowing to keep in touch – Bethany promising to come watch Chloe perform – Adam inviting Tango to a Yankees game – and then they’re gone.

  Adam puts his arms around Chloe as they walk back to their apartment. He kisses the top of her head and says, “Can you imagine? I don’t think we’re ready for that.”

  “Totally,” Chloe mumbles.

  But they totally need to get ready . . . because Chloe’s pregnant.

  NATALIE JUMPS UP and down claps her hands. “Holy shit! Chloe, are you serious?”

  Chloe falls dramatically on the couch of her former apartment and groans. “Where is Sabine anyway?”

  “She moved out weeks ago – I thought I told you.” Natalie sits on the couch and places Chloe’s head in her lap. She runs her fingers through Chloe’s hair and smiles. “A baby! Jesus, Chloe – can I be the godmother?”

  “Of course you can be the godmother. Are you getting another roommate?” Chloe closes her eyes, soothed by Natalie’s soft strokes.

  “Fuck no. I’ll just have to make do – maybe it’s time to use some of the money.” Natalie hasn’t touched a cent of the money Zach left her. It’s too difficult to justify a need when everything seems shallow in comparison. But this apartment is the last connection she feels with Zach, and she will do anything to keep it.

  Chloe opens her eyes and smiles up at Natalie. “I think that’s a great idea, Nat.”

  “Tell me everything. Are your boobs sore? Are you sick? Do you barf at the sight of sardines and mayonnaise?” Natalie cringes with each question.

  “Gross, sardines and mayonnaise would make anyone hurl – and no, I feel fine.”

  Natalie cocks her head and holds up her hands. “Wait, how many weeks are you?”

  “I don’t know, nine maybe.”

  Natalie taps the air with her fingers, counting back to nine weeks. “Holy shit! On your honeymoon?”

  Chloe shrugs her shoulders and exhales. “Possibly. Maybe before.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I didn’t take the pill regularly – you know that. And then I needed to lose a few pounds for my dress so I didn’t take it for a solid week before the wedding, and well, all the sex we were having – it happened.”

  “Omigod – does Adam know?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Yes or no?”

  “No,” Chloe whispers.

  Natalie’s mouth drops open in surprise. “He’s going to freak! Actually, no – it’s Adam, he probably knew the moment of conception.”

  Chloe sits up from her relaxing repose and stares at the ceiling. “That’s ridiculous. I didn’t even know until last night.”

  “Well, then when are you telling him?” Natalie snaps her fingers in front of Chloe’s dazed face.

  “I can’t.”

  Natalie narrows her eyes and shakes her head. “This isn’t like buying five hundred dollar shoes and not telling him. I think he’ll notice when a baby falls from your cooter in nine months.”

  “Nat, he doesn’t want kids yet – he made that very clear. Shit, he’s going to be so pissed.”

  “Maybe, but he loves you.”

  “He loves control,” Chloe insists.

  “Then he should’ve taken birth control. Things happen – he should understand that by now . . . especially with a flake like you!”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “Okay – how can I help?”

  Chloe sits on her leg and grabs Natalie’s hands. “Well, do you think you could talk to him? Like, meet him for lunch and talk about babies.”

  “Just stop by and talk about babies? That sounds like a Laverne and Shirley shenanigan. Which by the way, you’re totally Shirley.”

  “Really? I think we’re more like Tootie and Natalie.”
>
  Natalie snorts. “Gag, no! How ’bout Blanche and Rose? You’re definitely as dumb as Rose.”

  “True, and you’re definitely a slut like Blanche.”

  NATALIE ARRIVES AT Adam’s office with a tray of Starbucks and a well-thought out plan. She smiles politely at the secretary and says, “Hello, I would like to speak with Adam . . . briefly.”

  “Hi, is he expecting you?” Caroline asks with a condescending tone.

  “Probably, who knows – just tell him Delta Burke’s here on business.”

  Caroline frowns as she holds down the intercom. “Adam, Delta Burke is here to discuss a business matter.”

  Adam’s laughter echoes through the intercom. “Send her in,” he responds.

  “You can go in, Ms. Burke.”

  Natalie knocks on the door and then pushes it open. “Chill Adam, I’m practically your sister now. Iced green tea.” Natalie takes off the lid and places it on his desk. “No lid and no straw.”

  “Thanks. I do enjoy our awkward Starbucks chats, but why are you really here?”

  Natalie plops down in a chair and sips her iced latte. “So, if I were to need an attorney, do you think you could help?”

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “What? Not that I know of.”

  Adam jokingly passes Natalie a business card. “Then I can help.”

  “Hilarious.” Natalie chews on her straw as she continues. “It’s about the money. I have a shitload of it and I think I want to buy my apartment.”

  Adam leans back in his chair and nods approvingly. “That’s a great idea, Nat. I’m proud of you.”

  “I made an offer, but there’s a lot involved with trusts and shit. Do you think you could help me with the closing?”

  “Of course. Whenever and whatever you need.” Adam leans forward and flashes a smile. “Hey, I want to show you what I got Chloe for her birthday.”

  Adam retrieves a bag from the desk drawer and passes it to Natalie. Her eager hands reach inside and remove a jewelry box. “Gray pearls . . . gorgeous, Adam.” She holds them up to the sunlight and smiles.

  Adam leans back in his chair. “When we were at the Miami airport last month, they had one of those oyster tanks – you know, the ones where you pick an oyster and they shuck it on the spot to find a pearl.”

  Amused, Natalie says, “I’ll take your word.”

  “Anyway, Chloe picked an oyster and when it was pried open, a perfect gray pearl was scraped from the shell. She begged me to do it, too – I complied, just wanting to get to the gate and upgrade our tickets. I pointed to one in the opposite corner of the tank. The lady running the booth told me it was too small and wouldn’t have a pearl and I could pick another one. I didn’t. She popped it open to reveal another gray pearl – apparently, finding two pearls, from the same lot of oysters, the same size and color is very rare . . .”

  “Adam, the earrings are beautiful, but that’s some sappy shit.” Natalie chuckles as she places the earrings back in the gift bag.

  “I knew you would understand. What else are you up to today?”

  “Ah, I don’t know. I’m supposed to be on Long Island in a few hours for a nouveau riche birthday party. Molly and I devised an entire Murder Mystery Dinner on the North Shore. I have to dress up,” Natalie whines.

  “That’s odd.”

  Natalie flails her hand holding the iced coffee, dramatically making a point. “Rich people do weird things. We had this client once, total OCD, he only wanted silk linens. Silk. Fucking silk napkins.”

  Laughing, Adam asks, “Where’d you find silk napkins?”

  “I bought a shitload of silk handkerchiefs. All in day’s work – which reminds me, I should get my ass moving to Penn Station.”

  Natalie stands, slurping the last of her iced latte and then tossing it in the trashcan. Adam moves toward Natalie, placing his arm around her shoulder and walking her to the door. “Thanks for the tea,” he says.

  Returning the sibling gesture, she wraps her arms around his waist and hugs him. “Chloe’s pregnant.” She releases her grip and opens the door. Looking back over her shoulder she says, “See you Saturday!”

  Adam’s face is priceless – a smirk concealing pure happiness.

  Natalie hurries past Caroline’s desk, rushing to the bank of elevators. “Have a good day, Ms. Burke,” Caroline yells after her.

  Natalie waits impatiently, tapping her foot for the elevator doors to open. She hops inside an empty car and repeatedly presses the button on the control panel.

  “Hold it, please,” the voice calls.

  Natalie positions her hand on the door to prevent it from closing. She’s giving this person two seconds to get their ass . . .

  Chris squeezes through the opening, delighted to see the current occupant. “Natalie?” he asks.

  Her smile is genuine, perfectly content. “Hey,” she says.

  Chris mirrors her happiness and replies, “Hey.”

  Natalie takes a step closer and grins. “I forgot you worked here. Actually, I guess I didn’t know.”

  Chris’ hand brushes against her arm, innocent, but suggestive. “You look great.”

  “So do you – no boots today?” Natalie glances as his brown wingtips.

  “Not with my suits. My girlfriend would flip.”

  “Oh,” Natalie says, backing away.

  Chris scowls at his own inappropriate boldness. “Shit, I’m sorry that slipped in.”

  Natalie shakes her head and smiles. “Oh no, that’s fine – I mean, yeah. Awesome.”

  “And what about you? Are you seeing anyone?” Chris takes a step closer, staring at her lips.

  “Nope, just waiting for the right time.”

  “Timing is everything,” Chris declares.

  Natalie smiles. “Yep.”

  “Yep.” Chris smiles.

  Not yet . . .

  AUSTIN, TEXAS IS the embodiment of southern cool. From the vintage shops and industrial buildings, to the massive pecan trees and calming lakes, and to the urban art centers and sprawling ranch homes – this place is magical.

  Natalie lounges on an outdoor sofa, bringing her knees to her chest and smiling. She’s giddy – punch drunk. “I love it here!”

  “I love seeing you here.” Chris puts his arms around her shoulders and jokingly motorboats her neck.

  “Look at the sky – I never knew there were so many stars.” Natalie gazes above, bumping into Chris to get his attention.

  Chris watches Natalie’s mesmerized expression, pleased that she appreciates the beauty of the Lone Star State. “Can you actually be falling in love with something other than Manhattan?” he teases.

  Natalie shrugs her shoulders and grins. “People can change.”

  “So you would consider living here?”

  “Maybe. Is there a Sak’s?” Natalie snuggles into Chris’ arms, running her fingernails along his forearm.

  “You’re incredible, Natalie.”

  “I think you’re pretty incredible.”

  Chris jerks beneath her, an idea swirling in his mind. “Do you want to go for a swim?”

  “Uh no – it’s late.”

  “And? Swimming at night is liberating.”

  Natalie sits upright and points to the house. “What about your family?”

  “Prude.”

  “Is that a challenge? No one calls me a prude and gets away with it.” Natalie flicks Chris’ chest.

  Chris jumps up from the sofa, ripping off his polo shirt and pulling down his shorts. He gives Natalie a wink before running and diving into the pool.

  “Come on, darlin’.” Chris moves his arms over the water making tiny ripples. He raises his hand above the water and beckons Natalie with his finger.

  Natalie walks to the edge of the pool, smiling down at her cowboy under the big Texas sky. She removes her dress and tosses it to the side. Natalie decides that modesty is a necessity while visiting her boyfriend’s parents, so she wisely leaves her bra and panties on – her v
ery sexy bra and panties. She takes a step back then leaps into the pool. Natalie was a cheerleader, and her cannonball into the warm abyss is a flawless ten.

  “I think I officially love you.” Chris laughs.

  “Do you mean that? Is it official?” Natalie asks, moving the wet hair from her eyes.

  Chris places his thumb under her chin and lifts her head, her face soaking up the glorious moonlight. “Are you ready to be loved?”

  “I – I think so.”

  Their love affair started years ago, but timing’s been a bitch. Natalie moved from relationship to relationship, never settling, never feeling secure – never feeling the love she experienced with Zach. Even Pete couldn’t break her – affection is not love.

  Chris dated several girls over his years in New York, even a brief stint with Sarah – but no one could come close to giving him what he experienced in one night with Natalie.

  “Darlin’, why are you scared?”

  Goosebumps scatter across her skin as she stares off into the distance. “Do you ever think existence is just a circle – like we’re in a roller rink, skating in one continuous loop? The songs might change and people can roll in or out – grab a hot dog and soda – come right back for the free skate. But it just keeps going – one more song and I’m done . . . one more full rotation around the rink and I’m done . . . one more time. But existence is a circle.”

  “Tell me what happened, Nat,” Chris pleads.

  Natalie regains her focus and smiles at Chris. No guy has ever asked her about Zach. No guy has cared . . . “The usual Shakespearean romantic tragedy. I fell in love. Hard. Our love was physical in the sense that I felt it in every part of my body. Zach made me a better person, he gave me hope . . . he gave me the stars. And then he died . . . I died.” Natalie skims her hands over the water – her heart is heavy, but her soul is weightless. “But I still exist.”

  “You exist because of him,” Chris asserts.

  Natalie shakes her head. “No Chris, it’s not like that.”

  Chris caresses her cheek, gliding his thumb over her lips. “What I mean is, I love you because of Zach . . . and I would never take that from you. Never apologize or feel remorseful about who you are. Natalie, I love you.”