Not Quite A mom
Page 26
When we finish (two orgasms for me later), Buck rolls off and joins me on the floor. He lies on his side and grins happily at me. He kisses the tip of my nose and asks, “Did you have something you wanted to talk to me about?”
57
Six months later I’m sitting at my desk staring down at the growing bump in my normally concave stomach. The passionate start to our relationship on Buck’s kitchen floor left us with a little surprise. Ironically, an unplanned pregnancy was my greatest fear until it happened, and now it feels like the most unexpected joy imaginable. Plus, Buck couldn’t have been more wonderful. We had been living together (and loving every second of it) for three weeks when I realized I was late and took a home test. As soon as I told Buck, he was down on one knee.
“Lizzie, I have loved you for over a decade. Marry me?” he asked sweetly.
Of course I accepted, and as soon as I did, he ran out and bought a two-carat emerald-cut engagement ring (which I never mentioned wanting) and a three-bedroom house in Santa Monica—with a white picket fence! We got married in the backyard of the house the weekend that escrow closed. Although things happened slightly out of order, I am actually living my ideal life: married to an attorney, an older daughter, and a baby son on the way, a golden retriever romping behind the white picket fence, and a successful career in journalism. Go figure!
It’s Friday afternoon and we are finished taping for the week. I’m going over my files for next week’s interviews but itching to get out of the office. Christmas is in a few days and I have about a million things to do to be ready, since we are hosting both families in our new home. Finally, I decide to blow the work off and head to Bloomingdale’s to pick up the Chanel Mademoiselle perfume that Tiffany has been relentlessly hinting for. I can’t help but laugh…this time last year she was living in Victory and buying knockoffs at Wal-Mart the next town over. Now she’s such an L.A. teenager, wearing Juicy velour suits with Ugg boots (lucky for Tiff, she and I wear the same size) and spritzing Chanel. Charla would be proud (and pleased). Just as I am shutting down my computer, Kevin walks into my office.
“Have a minute?” he asks, sitting down in the guest chair across from my desk before I can answer.
“Of course,” I answer, clicking the “cancel shutdown” button with my mouse.
“Holiday plans?” he asks, completely confusing me. It’s not common for the head of the studio to show up on a Friday evening to chat about Christmas traditions.
“Our families are coming to town. You?”
“I have no idea,” he says, his voice a combination of shame and pride. “My wife takes care of all that.”
I smile and laugh, but inside I’m tense with concern about his unexpected visit.
“So,” he begins getting to his reason, “there are going to be big changes on the show at the beginning of the year,” he says and my heart falls.
Three minutes ago I sat here reveling in the fact that I’ve finally got it all…apparently karma didn’t appreciate my gloating.
“Oh?” I ask weakly. I’ve never been fired, so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or say.
“Look, Elizabeth, lemme level with you. A scandal is going to be breaking in Us Weekly on Sunday,” Kevin says, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “Thankfully, I’ve got an old friend over there who gave me a heads-up, and it’s going to lead to a total revamping of the show.”
I’m literally dying to know what the scandal is, but I’m afraid to ask. Forget it, I tell myself, bite the bullet. “What’s going on?” I ask.
“One of the many staff members Renee entertained at the Eagle Lake house has filed a seven-million-dollar sexual harassment suit,” he says, slowing over the words seven, million, and dollar.
My jaw drops open slightly and I don’t even know what to say. “Who?” I ask, nosily forgetting that it might not be appropriate to force my boss into spreading gossip.
“One of the camera operators, Carlos Dokter. Know who he is?”
I gasp again. “Of course!” Everyone calls him The M.D. “I had no idea,” I am completely in shock. Renee was having an affair with The M.D, who is considerably younger than she is and also totally hot?!? Most mornings in the makeup chair are spent listening to the hairdressers and makeup artists talk about how in love with him they are.
“So, it’s going to end up in the hands of legal and PR, but Renee is out. The studio and the network both agree that she is no longer the image we want representing us. This company values family and ethics.”
As he says it I sneak a peak down at my belly bump. Am I going to be fired for getting pregnant before getting married? We were married before I ever started to show—and before I told anyone at the show…except Hope. Would Hope have ratted me out?
“We think you are the one to emphasize this image,” Kevin continues, but I’m so focused on worrying that Hope is an evil corporate spy that I don’t hear him. “As of the first of the year, you are hosting the show completely on your own.”
“What?” I ask, my attention suddenly jerked back to reality.
“How do you feel about being called ‘Lizzie?’” Kevin asks.
“Actually, I feel fine about it,” I answer, and can’t help smiling. My incredibly intelligent husband could never remember “Elizabeth.” I guess he knew me and thought of me as “Lizzie,” for so long that it stuck…and the truth is that coming out of his mouth, I like how Lizzie sounds.
“We think Lizzie has a more approachable sound than Elizabeth,” he explains. “So, the show will be The Lizzie Castle Show. We’re dropping the exclamation point.”
“Oh, actually I’m Lizzie Castle-Platner now,” I tell him.
Kevin looks up and smiles at me. “Even better. Married, baby on the way—it all reeks of family and stability. Excellent,” he says more to himself than to me as he stands up and heads towards the door. “Have a great holiday,” he says as he walks out, “and get ready to host your own show the first week back next year.”
I reach for the phone and dial Buck as I shut down my computer.
“Hey,” I say, and I still feel as excited to be talking to him as I did back in high school.
“Hey,” he returns. “I went and bought that Chanel perfume Tiffany has been hinting for,” he tells me.
“She’s subtle, huh?”
“Subtle like a Mack truck,” Buck answers with a laugh. “What’s going on?”
“You’ll never guess,” I tease, and then I tell him everything. I’m so excited that I can hardly form words. Somewhere deep down, I always feared that even all my determination and planning wouldn’t work out and I’d never have it all. It still amazes and thrills me that I’ve managed to pull it off. My life has turned out to be an undeniable victory.
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Copyright © 2008 by Kirsten Sawyer Abdo
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