The Apartment

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The Apartment Page 26

by Danielle Steel


  “In Italy” was the only information she gave him and then turned to a buyer who was back for the second time, this time to place an order. And a minute later Walter slunk off.

  By the end of the show, they had a stack of very respectable orders, enough to launch their business and support a season. Claire and her mother were beaming and high-fived each other and the young assistant. She had been very helpful during the show, and Claire had decided to keep her. The show had been a wonderful experience. Claire Kelly Designs was up and running, and in the fall would be in some of the best department stores in the country.

  “Thanks, Mom,” she said as they packed up. “I can never thank you enough.” Sarah just smiled at her and gave her a hug. This was why she had come to New York. And she loved that they had started the business together, and so did Claire. She knew she would be forever grateful to her mother for the opportunity she’d given her.

  —

  At the beginning of May, Morgan was four months pregnant, and was having trouble concealing it. She still hadn’t told Claire or anyone else yet. Only Sasha knew, and her brother and his partner. And she was embarrassed to have Claire’s mother know. They all knew that she and Max had broken up, but she refused to discuss the details, or say why. She and Max hadn’t spoken in two months. He finally couldn’t stand it, and sat on the front steps of her building one morning, waiting for her to come out. He knew she would sooner or later. She came downstairs an hour after he got there, on the way to a Pilates class for pregnant women. She was looking good, fit, and in shape, and had gained very little weight, except her face was a little fuller.

  She was startled when she saw him and tried to go back inside, and he stopped her.

  “Morgan, this is insane. Talk to me,” he begged her. He looked like a madman as he stood there. He had thought of nothing and no one else for two months.

  “Why? We have nothing to say to each other. It’s over.” She was ice cold.

  “No, it’s just the beginning,” he said, pointing at her stomach. “It doesn’t have to be like this. I didn’t want you to get an abortion because I love you and wanted our child.”

  “No, you didn’t love me. You told me you’d leave me if I didn’t keep it. You wanted a child. You can have visitation when it’s born. Leave me out of it.” She sounded strong and angry and very hurt. “You had no respect for what I wanted or for my right to make the decision.”

  “I was upset. I wouldn’t really have left you.” He appeared deeply remorseful.

  “You didn’t talk to me for three weeks, when I needed your support, and you threatened to abandon me.”

  “I was wrong.” And then he asked her what he had been wondering for a month. “Why did you keep it?”

  “It felt wrong not to. This was our mistake, not the baby’s. I decided to take my responsibilities.”

  “Are you happy about it at all?” he asked sadly.

  “No,” she answered honestly. She never lied to him. “Why would I be? I wanted you, not the baby. I was never confused about that. Now I’ve lost you, and I’m stuck with a child I never wanted.” But she would do right by it anyway. She was that kind of person. This wasn’t the baby’s fault. It was theirs.

  “You haven’t lost me,” he said miserably. “You can’t lose me, even if you don’t want me anymore.” She didn’t answer, and he saw tears fill her eyes as she turned away, and he put his arms around her. “I’m sorry I screwed this up so badly.” And he realized now that he should probably have let her have the abortion. She had always told him she didn’t want children, and she hadn’t changed her mind, even pregnant. “I’m sorry. This has all been a terrible mistake. What can I do to make it better?” he said, obviously desperate.

  “You can’t. It’s over for us, and we’re stuck with a kid no one wanted and shouldn’t have happened.”

  “I suspect a lot of babies start out that way, and you fall in love with them later.”

  “Maybe,” she said, but she hadn’t yet, and didn’t expect to. She would do her duty, but no one could force her to want it. He had tried, and it blew up in their faces. But she had made the decision on her own to keep it. She couldn’t blame him for that, and she knew it. “Thanks for coming by,” she said, and tried to walk past him down the steps, and he wouldn’t let her. He looked as stubborn as she did.

  “I’m not leaving until you agree to at least try to make this work with me. Let’s give it a chance. If you hate me, I’ll go away.”

  “I don’t hate you,” she said, tired and disappointed. “I don’t know what I feel anymore.”

  “That’s a start,” he said, holding on to her. “Please, Morgan, please give me another chance.” She didn’t answer, she just stared at him, and then she felt a strange cramp in the depths of her belly, and she winced.

  “What was that?” He had seen it.

  “Nothing,” she lied to him, and then she had another cramp right after. She hadn’t had anything like it during the pregnancy so far. It felt like strong menstrual cramps.

  “Is something wrong? Tell me the truth.” He held on to her, and she winced again and doubled over.

  “I don’t know. I’m having bad cramps all of a sudden.”

  “Like something you ate or the baby?”

  “Maybe the baby.” She turned to go back upstairs, and he followed her, worried that he had upset her. They hiked up the stairs, and she went to the bathroom in the apartment and came out, looking ashen. “I’m bleeding,” she said in a scared voice.

  “Let’s go to the hospital. I’m not leaving.” She didn’t want him to, and she didn’t argue with him. She thought she might be having a miscarriage, which would be a simple solution to their problems, but suddenly she didn’t want that to happen.

  They walked down the stairs together to the street, and she stopped twice for cramps again and could feel dampness between her legs. He hailed a cab and helped her in, and he held her hand on the way to the hospital. Morgan called Sasha from the cab. She was on duty and told her where to go and said she’d meet her.

  She was waiting for them when they got to the hospital, and took Morgan into an examining room, and asked her if she wanted someone else to examine her, and Morgan said she wanted her to do it. She trusted Sasha more than anyone else, and as Sasha gently examined her, Morgan started crying.

  “This is happening because I didn’t want it,” Morgan said softly. “God is punishing me.”

  “No, He’s not. These things happen.” Sasha could see that she was bleeding, but not heavily.

  “Let’s get a sonogram and see what’s going on,” she said calmly as she peeled off the glove, and Morgan kept crying. She could feel the baby moving—it had started a few days before—and it felt weird, like real butterflies in her stomach.

  Sasha put her in a wheelchair and rolled her down the hall, and Max followed them looking very worried.

  “What’s happening?” he asked them.

  “We don’t know yet,” Sasha told him.

  They took her in for a sonogram right away, while Max waited outside. The technician ran the wand over Morgan’s firm belly. They could see the baby on the screen, and it was moving, and seemed peaceful, and then started to suck its thumb. And then the tech commented that it looked like there was a clot, but just a small one.

  “That happens sometimes,” Sasha explained. “It can cause bleeding. It will probably resorb all by itself. The baby may have bumped it.”

  “Is it something I did? I’ve been going to Pilates every day, to stay in shape,” Morgan asked, feeling guilty.

  “You should cool that for a week or two and take it easy, and give the clot a chance to dissolve. This won’t hurt the baby.” Morgan closed her eyes then and started to sob.

  “I thought I’d killed it because I didn’t want it.”

  “And how do you feel now?” Sasha asked her gently.

  “Scared. But I don’t want to lose it.” Sasha nodded with a smile.

  “That sounds
about right. Do you want Max to see it?” she asked cautiously. It had surprised her to see them together. Morgan nodded, and Sasha went to get him. They switched to the bigger, brighter screen in 3D so he could get a better look. The baby was still sucking its thumb when Max walked in. He took one glance at the screen and burst into tears, and leaned down to kiss Morgan.

  “I love you so much. I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk.”

  “Me too,” she said, smiling at him through her own tears. “I don’t want to lose the baby.” She felt as though she needed to tell everyone now, so it wouldn’t happen. And it still might, but Sasha didn’t seem worried.

  “Do you want to know the sex?” she asked them both, and they nodded in unison and laughed as they held hands. Max had never seen anything so beautiful in his life as the woman he loved and the baby inside her. And as they looked, Sasha pointed at a spot on the screen and smiled. “It’s a boy.” Max grinned broadly and kissed Morgan again, and she smiled tenderly at him. They seemed like blissful parents, not two people who had broken up and not spoken for two months. And Sasha was pleased too, for them.

  Morgan got dressed after that, and Sasha said she could go home, and should take it easy for a week, maybe two. “No Pilates for two weeks. And no make-up sex for two weeks, please, you two.” She handed them two copies of the photo of their baby, and they walked out of the hospital in a daze after thanking Sasha.

  In a couple of hours, everything had changed and turned around. Max was back, and she had made peace with the trauma and disruption they’d been through. They spent the rest of the day together in the apartment, taking it easy, and then he thought of something.

  “Will you come back to work at the restaurant? My books have been a mess since you left.” He was grinning and had an arm around her when he asked her, and she laughed.

  “Is that all you really wanted?” she teased him.

  “Yes, the baby is just a side attraction. I need you to help me with payroll and petty cash.”

  She laughed at him then, and they kissed. Things were looking up, and then she pulled away from him with a serious expression. “I won’t marry you, though. That would ruin everything. We can have the baby, but I don’t want to get married.”

  “You’re a damn difficult woman,” he said good-humoredly. “Can we live together?”

  “Yes. But not married. That would kill the romance in our relationship.” To her, marriage was a nightmare, like her parents’.

  “You’re a nut, but I love you. After the tenth kid, can we get married? I love big Irish families.”

  “Okay, but not till after the tenth one, then I’ll consider it.” And as they bantered, she realized that they would have to move. They couldn’t live in the loft with a baby. That would leave only Claire at the apartment. Morgan had planned to stay on at the loft alone with the baby, and Claire. They had room now without Abby, and Sasha gone in June. But Max and the baby seemed like too much and not fair to Claire. And as a couple with a child, they needed their own home.

  Claire and her mother came in from an appointment at Bergdorf’s shortly after, looking pleased. And Claire was as surprised to see Max there as Sasha had been when she saw them together earlier.

  “We’re having a baby,” Morgan blurted out with a grin. Suddenly it was real.

  “A boy,” Max added.

  “But we’re not getting married,” Morgan said, smiling.

  “It would kill the romance in the relationship,” he mimicked Morgan’s words, and they all laughed.

  “Congratulations,” Claire said, startled. “When is it due?”

  “October.” Claire could figure out the rest. They’d have to move, and she and her mother would have the loft to themselves. She could run the business from there. She could afford the rent alone now, but she would miss her friends, and it was shocking and sad how fast things had changed. Maybe Abby would come back in a year, as she said she would, but Claire wasn’t counting on that either. And by the summer, she’d be living at the loft alone with her mother.

  Chapter 22

  As May progressed, Prunella was driving Sasha crazy. The invitations had gone out, engraved by Cartier. They were very simple and elegant. They had chosen the menu, with a tasting at the apartment, and tried five different wedding cakes from three wedding bakers. And Max was giving them the wine as a wedding gift, and the champagne.

  Prunella had recommended a photographer and videographer, which she insisted they needed. She had chosen lace tablecloths and linen napkins for them at Sasha’s request, and she had her own supply of candelabras, and the caterer was bringing the crystal, silver, and china. They had toured the penthouse on Fifth Avenue, where they were giving the reception, and they had found a small church near the penthouse that was willing to do a six o’clock wedding. The reception was due to start at eight. And Sasha had managed to decide on all of it, in her meager time off from work. They hadn’t had a weekend off since they’d gone to Atlanta in March.

  And she had found the dress entirely by accident, in a magazine she was reading in the doctors’ lounge. It was a simple white satin dress with a lace coat over it that she could take off at the reception, with a lace veil. The coat had a beautiful long train. She didn’t have time to try it on, so Valentina went to the fitting for her, and Sasha fell in love with it when she saw it on a cell phone photo her sister sent her, although Valentina thought it was boring.

  “Why don’t you get something sexy, with some cleavage and a low back?” The dress was perfect for Sasha. And the bridesmaids’ dresses were a warm beige color, simple strapless gowns, which Valentina said would have looked better in red. Everything was tasteful and simple. The bridesmaids’ bouquets were going to be small beige orchids, and Sasha’s lily of the valley. She had thought about having her half-sisters as flower girls, but it would have caused a war with her mother, which just wasn’t worth it to her.

  The men were going to wear black tie, and Alex was wearing white tie and tails. And Helen Scott had told her she was wearing navy blue. Muriel hadn’t decided, but had seen an emerald green dress she liked, or possibly a gold one.

  Amazingly, everything was on track, and Prunella had turned out to be as organized and efficient as Oliver had been told. Sasha couldn’t stand her, but had to admit she was doing a great job. In spite of that, Sasha was nervous about all the details coming together on the big day. There was so much that could go wrong. Helen kept offering to help her, but Prunella seemed to have it all in control.

  A month before the wedding, Sasha’s roommates planned a bachelorette dinner for her. She couldn’t get enough time off for a weekend, but the dinner sounded like fun. Abby had promised to fly in from L.A., and Claire’s mother was invited too. They were having it at Soho House. And Sasha even had a dress for that, and a short sexy black one for the rehearsal dinner Alex’s parents were giving the night before the wedding at the Metropolitan Club, to which they belonged through their sister club in Chicago.

  Her hair was coming in blond again, although it was still short, to get rid of the brown dye. She was going to get it trimmed before the wedding, by a hairdresser Valentina had recommended. And Alex was having his bachelor party the same night as hers, in a private room in a nightclub downtown.

  The bachelorette dinner was a big success. Abby was staying at the apartment with them. Claire had cleared the shoe boxes off her bed. And Abby confessed during dinner that she was dating Josh, and she loved his boys. And Morgan talked about the baby. They were already looking for an apartment, and she wanted to move that summer before she got too huge. Sasha and Alex hadn’t found one but were apartment hunting too. And they only wanted something short term. Sasha was planning to transfer her residency to the University of Chicago when Alex finished his. It appealed to both of them to establish their practices in his native city. And Sasha really liked that idea a lot, and living close to Alex’s brother and parents.

  Everyone discussed their plans, the wedding, the baby, Abby’s movi
e. There was so much to talk about.

  The women were all relaxed and happy when they got back to the apartment, and Claire looked at her mother ruefully.

  “I guess it’s just going to be you and me here, Mom. Everyone’s moving out.” It still made Claire sad when she thought about it. Her mother didn’t say anything for a minute, and the others had all gone to bed, after a lot of champagne. Only Morgan wasn’t drinking, but she had gone to bed too. Sarah took Claire’s hand in her own with a sheepish expression, as they sat on the couch at two in the morning.

  “I have some plans too. You don’t really need me here anymore. The business is taking off. You’ve got Claudia to help you, and she’s very good. And you know how to run this business without me. I’ve just been along for the fun and the ride, and to support you in the beginning. I’m still going to back you, but I think it’s time for me to go home.”

  “To San Francisco?” Claire looked stunned. “I thought you love it here.”

  “I do. And it’s been a fantastic five months. It’s been the best thing that ever happened to me, other than having you. Your father and I have been talking. He’s really been trying. He stopped drinking two months ago, and he wants to start traveling and doing some things together. It may not be perfect, but I love him and we’d both like to try, and see how it goes.” Claire looked both happy and sad. She had so loved having her mother there with her. It had filled a huge void for her, and given her an opportunity she would never have had otherwise. She was eternally grateful for that. And now she’d be living in the loft alone. It felt suddenly too grown up.

  “When are you going?” Claire looked wistful. Her mother gave her a hug.

  “I thought after the wedding might be a good time, in a month.” Claire nodded. It was a lot to think about, but she could see that her mother thought it was the right thing to do. And her eyes lit up when she talked about doing things with Jim. And Claire knew she couldn’t hang on to her mother forever. The past five months had been a wonderful reprieve from the blows that had come before that.

 

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