“… course he thinks … good idea,” Dani says, indicating Gavin with a nod of her head. She looks like she’s going to say more when she realizes he’s watching.
Still talking about Liam. BE HAPPY FOR M.
Marla gives Gavin a shy grin like he just told her the glass slipper fits.
Dani snorts. “He only asked because you got this thing going on.” Dani rounds her stomach out so that it brushes the table, exaggerating. She laughs, patting it, but Marla ignores her. “Whatever. As long as you’re still taking me to see Kamon later.”
Gavin isn’t sure who that is, but he wants to tell Dani that at least Liam is trying, even if he doesn’t always get it right the first time. He’ll be good for Marla. YOU NEVER GIVE L. CREDIT.
“Nope. When’s the big day?” Dani asks.
Marla shrugs. “… haven’t picked …”
“When are you going to move in?”
“I don’t …” Marla says. She jiggles her foot under the table.
“What about parenting? Who’s going to look after Liam Jr.?”
“… one thing … okay?” Marla turns deliberately to Gavin. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“Point made.” Dani takes a drink of ginger tea. She points at her cup. “This is fucking amazing.”
Gavin nods, pleased. He clears the dishes, and when he returns they are talking about something else.
“Gavin’s the one … model,” Marla says, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Nude model,” Dani corrects.
Gavin is so not going to be a nude model. He concentrates harder.
“For fat money,” Marla says. She glances at Gavin and giggles. “At … gallery … art class.”
Gavin grins. TODAY?
Dani laughs. “You’re into that? Maybe I should take this smooth vessel over there.” She runs her hands over her breasts.
Gavin is sure he’s blushing, but Dani and Marla are honking so hard they’re practically falling off their seats. Marla doesn’t know. He laughs with them, and Dani claps him on the back like he’s one of the girls.
Eventually, all the snow melts, even the heaps along the edge of the street, leaving only pebbles and the months’ worth of garbage that had been lingering below. Rainy slush takes over, but it is still too cold for the grass to grow green.
Marla takes her time at work, paying attention because each tip she gets goes in the spaghetti sauce jar to save for the baby. She’s gotten her hours increased at the diner, and Bettina seems okay with the pregnancy thing. Apparently, she has a kid too.
Every day, Marla pours coffee for Mr. Markady, not too full, and makes sure he has enough creamers. He likes a lot of cream. “How are you today, Mr. Markady?”
He eyes her belly. “Slowing down.” It’s what he always says. “What will I do when you’re not here?”
“Naomi can look after you,” Marla says, watching his fingers shake as he opens another creamer. His hands are riddled with liver spots.
Mr. Markady glances at Naomi carrying a tray of pop. Some of it sloshes because she walks like a rig pig. “I don’t know, Marla.”
“You’ll be fine. I’m not going anywhere yet.” A couple of his old boys arrive, one in a motorized wheelchair, and she turns over coffee cups for them. “Good morning, Mr. Williams. Mr. Miller.”
They let her go by first, all of them too wide to get through the narrow space between tables with another person in the way. This is the best part of being pregnant, that in her obvious vulnerability, people (old men especially), don’t judge her. Marla wants to be pregnant forever.
After the lunch rush the restaurant dies. Marla is wiping down seats when Amber and Joelle come in. “Picking up your pay cheque?” Marla asks.
“Yep.” Amber grins at her, and they head for the kitchen.
Bobby Love comes in too. “Hey, Marla,” he says, startled. “Fuck!”
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” He hurries to the back, where Marla can overhear Naomi telling him he was supposed to come in the back door and him bragging that he’s a real back door man. Marla glances at Gladys, the only other person out front. Gladys shrugs her doughy shoulders, but is kind of grinning.
Naomi is loudly calling everyone idiots when Marla bursts through the swinging doors to the kitchen. “Surprise!” they call.
Everyone’s there, even prissy Bettina—the guys wearing adult diapers over their jeans, and the girls with soothers and baby bonnets. Naomi ties a bonnet on Marla’s head and pops a candy soother in her mouth. “Happy baby shower, Marla.”
There’s a stack of baby gifts—big pastel bags with tissue paper and ribbons, and Teddy bears with bows. Someone has made a banner: “Have One for Marla, Because She Can’t Right Now.” Bobby Love pops the top off a bottle of cheap champagne and everyone but Marla gets a plastic cup.
She hugs everybody, feeling their warm bodies and hearing their heartbeats. “You guys are the best. Thank you so much.”
Would you and Liam come over for dinner this weekend?
is it a trap?
Please. We’re long overdue.
Liam comes in quickly that afternoon, stomping his sloppy boots on the mat. “Where’s Marla?”
Gavin sets aside his game of Solitaire. STILL WORK.
Liam paces. “two … how can …?”
PLS SPEAK SLOWER?
He stops moving and exhales, really looking at him. “Sorry, Gavin. It’s just that I stopped at her work but she left early and she’s not answering her phone. It’s like she’s avoiding me. Do you think she’s cheating?” Liam hasn’t even taken off his wool coat.
NOT HER STYLE.
Liam sniffs around. “Dani here?”
Shake head. Dani’s out scoring weed, an indulgence Gavin allows because it’s to do with her, but he can’t tell Liam that.
“Something’s going on between those two.”
Gavin is smiling, but trying to stop, because Liam is mostly serious. DANI NOT GAY. MARLA EITHER, he adds.
“Really,” Liam says, thinking, taking his time. There is something new in the way Liam’s looking at Gavin. Something very adult. “You’ve been with her.”
NO. Don’t betray anything.
Liam is grinning, shrugging out of his coat. “What’s she like?”
This is the exact second Gavin knows he must end it. CAN’T SAY.
“I won’t tell Marla. Don’t worry.” Liam motions Gavin into the kitchen, leaning in close at the table. “I always imagined her being a bit rough about it.”
SERIOUS?
Liam smiles the way guys do on TV. “And I’m right. There are bite marks on your neck.”
So there are. Gavin is surprised to find himself more proud than embarrassed. He’s sleeping with a woman, not just any woman, but an older woman who Liam (a righteous sort of guy) considers attractive. Gavin sits up straighter, feeling terribly manly.
Liam stirs the pot of veggie chilli on the stove, puts on some coffee. “I thought so. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Listen, has she told you how she met Marla?”
NO. WHY?
“No reason. Just seems odd, her being older.”
Gavin doesn’t even know how old Dani is.
“You should ask her. Let me know.”
Gavin nods, feeling an immense sense of male camaraderie. GLAD YOU, M. BE MARRIED.
Liam glances at his phone on the table, then smiles. “Yeah. I think it’s the right thing. I want her to move in.”
YOU GOOD DAD.
Liam pours two cups of coffee. “It will be interesting. I mean, I know you two didn’t have the greatest role models either, but I think Marla will be okay.”
Gavin doesn’t want Liam to pity her. She’s not a refugee. NEEDS HELP, BUT M. STRONG. He wonders what Marla has told him.
“Yes. Did you fi
nd your mom?”
Gavin sighs. He’s stopped imagining going home to his lonely apartment, and he’s allowed the landlord to box up his personal items to rent it out. Despite not yet summoning the courage to visit his mom in rehab, Gavin feels in his bones that he belongs in this city. ALMOST. WAIT HER RETURN.
Liam’s lips smooth into a long line. Tight. “My mother wouldn’t go.”
HOW?
“Alcoholic.”
Gavin wants to ask more, but Dani comes in with the weed, all lit up. “If it isn’t the knight in shining armour in my kitchen.”
Liam doesn’t bother to conceal his grin, which makes Gavin nervous. “Dani, how lovely to hear your voice.”
She perches on the edge of the table in front of Liam. “Why are you smiling at me, fiancé?”
“No reason.” Liam brushes against her as he rises, his forearm on hers. Gavin realizes he forgot to ask Liam about the cut on Marla’s head all that time ago. He watches Liam rinse and wipe his coffee mug, his long fingers. He’s not that kind of guy, Gavin thinks.
Dani takes Liam’s seat and slips Gavin a joint, which he pockets in a panic, hoping he didn’t crush it. “Hi Gavin,” she says. She leans in, mouthing the words: Why is this douchebag here?
BE NICE. WAIT MARLA.
“Where is she?”
Dani stares at the two of them. “She’s never this late.”
Liam dries his hands. “I assumed she was with you, doing whatever it is you do.”
“I’m serious, Liam. She’s pregnant, there’s sleet, and it’s supper. She wouldn’t miss a meal. Aren’t you worried?”
Gavin is. SHD LOOK?
“Yeah, idiots.” She’s already putting her coat on.
NOT THINK BAD.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Dani just wants to look like a hero.”
She shoots Liam a look. “I’m calling her manager.”
Liam looks at his watch. “I’ve got students tonight. When you see her, tell her to answer her phone. And get your buzz back on.”
Dani sneers at Liam. “I’ll tell her you stopped by.”
“Do. I’ve got good news for her.” Liam nods to Gavin and fingers a spot on his neck just under his jawline, where Dani’s marks are on Gavin. “So long, brother.”
All Marla’s experience driving her shit heap has taught her a lot about judgment—most importantly, how to gauge following distance. Under normal driving conditions, a car with spongy brakes can stop for red lights, left turns and pedestrian crosswalks, so long as an appropriate following distance is maintained. Of course, Marla’s shit heap is less than ideal under other performance conditions.
When the geriatric farmer in front of her loses a barbeque out of his pickup, Marla curses him for not having a tailgate, and for not thinking to tie down a huge hunk of metal. Knowing she can’t stop, she swerves right to avoid the biggest chunk. She hits and then drags what she later discovers to be the grill, which causes her car to become an unsteerable projectile.
She slams into a parked car going sixty kilometers per hour. The impact throws Marla into the wheel and then the door as everything around her crunches and gets smaller. The passenger airbag deploys, bobbing stupidly in front of the hole where the seat should be. Her baby presents are jumbled around her. The pickup is long gone.
Someone on the street takes Marla out of the car and calls an ambulance. When the police arrive, they tell her several things she doesn’t care to listen to, like her license is expired and she should have gotten the guy’s plate number. She curses at them, and they ask her if she’s drunk, make her blow into the machine, and order her to walk a straight line before she tells them under her winter jacket she’s pregnant. They write her a ticket. Her arm throbs, and she holds it to her chest until ambulance attendants take her to the hospital.
Nurses fuss about her baby, asking her all kinds of questions, then X-ray her arm and tell her that she’s going to have to learn to write left-handed for a while. She gets a cast and a sling, then waits in a plastic chair with her bags of baby gifts.
“Do you have anyone you can call?” a nurse asks her.
Right. Marla finds her phone—it’s fine. She dials Liam to tell him she crashed the car like he said she would.
“Hi. I’m at the hospital.”
“Hang on a second.” Liam talks to someone else, one of his students, probably. “Why?”
“I broke my arm in a car accident. The baby’s okay.”
“You hit somebody?”
“A parked car.” Marla’s voice is small and tired.
“That’s not good. Your fault, I imagine?”
“Yep.”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but it’s not a good time to talk right now—I’m teaching. Can I come see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” Marla didn’t think he could get out of work.
She calls Dani, who gives it to her for not calling sooner, then verbally unleashes on Liam for not picking her up. “We’ll get a cab,” Dani tells her. Marla leans her head against the wall.
When they arrive, Gavin hugs her without touching the cast, his arms soft. LIAM CAME FOR YOU. HAS GOOD NEWS.
That’s hopeful. His audition must be over, so he’s done practising. She forgets and tries to lift her broken arm to move the hair out of her face and then clutches it back to her chest and moans.
Dani scowls a young nurse into leaving the room. “This sucks. What a shit day.”
It hits her that Dani’s the first person to offer sympathy. Marla feels warm and cozy for three seconds before she realizes she doesn’t deserve to. “Dani, I had to tell the police about the brakes, and they said it’s my fault. I got a ticket. I’m lucky I didn’t kill someone.”
“Whatever. We’re taking you home. Is there anything I should do, painkillers you have to take?” Dani says.
Marla shakes her head. “I have a prescription, but I don’t get paid until Friday.” Gavin’s writing something, but Marla’s too tired to wait. Or look.
“I’ll find something.” Dani collects the nurse she scowled at. Marla closes her eyes and waits on the hospital bed, her head heavy but her mind full, while Dani gets pills and fills out paperwork. Finally, Gavin drapes his jacket around her shoulders, and they ride home in silence, baby presents wedged between knees and stacked in their arms. Gavin pays.
Later, Dani tucks Marla into bed while Gavin stands in the doorway. She smooths Marla’s hair. “Call me if it gets rough.” As she leaves the room she says something to Gavin that Marla doesn’t hear. He shakes his head and stays in the doorway as Dani brushes past him.
GOODNIGHT.
“Goodnight Gavin.”
She lays in bed, unable to sleep. The doctor had said it would happen soon, and now it has: inside her belly is a tiny fluttering fish bumping into the side of its bowl. Her baby, steady and strong and reaching out to her. She smiles in the dark, her broken arm not bothering her at all anymore.
9. ICED CAPP.
THE NEXT MORNING, Marla takes the other two painkillers the nurse gave her and makes phone calls. The insurance company claims Marla owes five thousand dollars for damages to the parked car, plus some sort of deductible to write off her own wreck. And then the ticket. Marla is used to being a total idiot, but not on this scale.
Gavin sits heavily on a chair. Probably all deaf people are that noisy, but it’s still annoying. CERTIFY INSURANCE CANCELLED.
He’s ever helpful. “Yep. I sure did.”
CALL WORK YET?
“That’s next, okay?” Marla doesn’t want him to know how flustered she feels. She waves him away and bundles all the insurance papers together, but drops some on the floor. She’s surprised when he doesn’t leave. He’s waiting like a dog expecting a bone.
CAN GIVE YOU MONEY.
She bangs into the table with her bad arm while she bends to get the papers
and scrunches her face in pain. “Gavin, leave me alone!”
Marla sinks to the floor. “Because I feel mean.” All these years Marla prided herself on being a good sister, but she’s not.
HAPPENS. STILL LOVE YOU.
“I brought you away from your job and your life, not to look after me, but so you could be a part of this. I wanted you to see it being good.”
He gathers her papers and hands them to her. YOU ARE GOOD. CAN GO IF NEED SPACE.
She pulls him into her. “No, stay. I’m sorry I yelled.”
Gavin sits back to back with her on the linoleum while she makes her calls, first to work to tell them she’ll be late, and then Liam to beg for a ride.
“So, I was right about your car,” Liam says.
Marla closes her eyes, squeezes Gavin’s fingers. “Yeah. I have to figure out how to get to work at the clinic without it, pay for the insurance, and what to tell Dave and Elise.”
“It’s not their car.”
“No, but they gave me some money to replace it, and I spent that on Gavin’s bus ticket.”
“You make some bad decisions. That’s not going to go over well.”
“I know, okay? Can you give me a ride?” Marla crosses her fingers.
“Okay, but I’ll have to take you early—I’m doing a split shift at the restaurant.” He pauses. “I hope they don’t fire you.”
“Yeah. They totally can’t do that, right?”
“I’m glad your car is toast.”
Marla says goodbye. Why didn’t Liam say he was glad she’s okay? She hates him and his job and his working car. His perfect clean house.
She releases Gavin’s hand and they face each other. His patience unnerves her, and her words feel flat. “Thanks for your help.”
FOUND MOM. WANT US VISIT.
Their mom. She doesn’t want that for Gavin. Maybe he can’t remember. She grabs his notepad and crosses out the last sentence. “Don’t bring all that up.”
SHE IN REHAB. I GO.
“So you can hit her back?”
A Handbook for Beautiful People Page 12