A New Lu

by Laura Castoro

  “Yo! Don’t be trying to perpetrate.” Curran moves in recklessly close to William and crosses his arms high on his narrow chest. “You get jumped by the Cur, you will know it.”

  I grab Curran’s arm and jerk him back toward me. “Down, boy. I’ve got it from here.” I’m afraid to ask what Cy and Curran were doing in my house. I just want them gone. Quickly.

  Despite his totally justifiable annoyance, William looks so good to me that I have to keep from bear-hugging him as I say, “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

  “So, you do know this dude?” Curran demands.

  “Yes. This is Dr. William Templeton.”

  “The kind who makes house calls,” Andrea adds unhelpfully.

  Cy’s gaze sharpens behind his lens. “Then why didn’t he say so?”

  “Yeah,” choruses Curran.

  Ignoring their questions, I lean in to kiss Cy on the cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me.” I turn to Curran and tug the inch-long tuft of red beard on his chin. “Both of you. Now, go home.”

  Cy doesn’t budge. “Not until you’ve seen your birthday gift.”

  I was afraid this was going too well.

  It’s a crib! A really pricey model made of New Zealand pine that goes from crib to junior bed. Exactly like the ones I have been drooling over in magazines. I have to blink back tears. “It’s wonderful! But how did you—Andrea!”

  “Cy needed a gift suggestion. This is much nicer than the one you said you could afford,” Andrea coos.

  Cy grins like a kid. “You wouldn’t let me build a nursery. This is the least I could do. Curran and I set it up after you left for lunch.”

  “Oh, Cy. Thank you!”

  He gives me a really tight hug. “My gift and my pleasure.”

  Curran picks up the lovely but empty pine frame leaning against the wall. “I’m going to do you a layette collage of pics of the baby for the wall,” he says, and then gives William a smirky smile. “You know Lu’s carrying a baby?”

  “I am a doctor,” William replies with remarkable subtlety.

  “Just so you know,” Curran grunts, “she’s gots peoples looking out for her. Lots of peoples.”

  “The Village People,” I say, and start to laugh.

  William holds out his hand to Cy. “Despite our awkward introduction, I’m happy to know that Lu has such good neighbors.”

  Cy doesn’t shake. “Did Lu tell you I’ve asked her to marry me?”

  “What?” Curran yelps while Andrea whispers, “Dios!”

  William withdraws his hand. “Can we discuss that another time? Lu looks tired.”

  Cy sends me a quick, concerned glance. I obligingly yawn.

  “I keep an eye on things. You remember that.” Reluctantly Cy turns toward the door.

  Andrea gives me the “call me” sign. I give her a thumbs down.

  It takes about ten seconds for Cy, Curran and Andrea to close the front door and descend the steps. All the while William stands with hands in pockets looking at me. He’s not angry or unhappy or even annoyed anymore. He looks as if he’s considering all his options.

  Finally, he says, “Do you have any idea how fortunate you are to have such friends?”

  “My padded cell will need to be a suite.”

  “Don’t knock it.”

  And then he approaches and puts his arms about me. “Hi,” he says against my ear.

  “Hi, yourself.” I hug him back hard.

  He kisses my forehead. “So how’s the birthday girl?”

  I lean against his chest. “So tired I can hardly stand.”

  “That’s too bad.” He kisses my eyelids as his hands begin a gentle massage of my back. “I’m feeling the need to be very territorial at the moment.”

  “Because of Cy and Curran?” I don’t laugh but, honestly, he can’t be serious. William jealous of Cy or Curran? I try not to think too hard about that. “Now, about that slightly soiled box you brought in…”

  He chuckles. “So, you are female after all. Fishing for presents after all I’ve been through.”

  I release him. “I’m so sorry about the earlier ordeal.”

  “You warned me.” He shrugs.

  “Even so.”

  “You’re right. It’s a lot to take in. So, you want to tell me about that?” He points a finger at my throat, stopping just short of the diamonds. “Is this from Cy, too?”

  He is jealous! I smile. “It’s Aunt Marvelle’s welcome to the over-the-hill gang.”

  I watch him recalculate. He wants to believe me. Probably does. But then, what about Cy’s proposal? That’s the unspoken question swimming beneath the surface of his dark eyes. I’m not going to help him. Any reassurances on my part would be indirect encouragement for something I’m not ready to commit to.

  He goes over to the box he brought with him and picks it up. “This did look better.”

  Since it’s mangled, anyway, I tear the lid off the box and rip right through the paper. Inside is another box, and then another. I’m about to be really annoyed when I get to the fourth. Inside is a midnight-blue satin box studded with sequins. I smile. “Thank you. It’s lovely.”

  “Don’t stop now.” He grins. “Open it.”

  I’m a girl. I pull it apart so fast the pair of dangling golden filigree earrings with blue glass spangles inside almost pop free. “They’re gorgeous.”

  He looks pleased. “I saw them in a shop window and they looked like you.”

  “Me? They look like a party in a box.” And ultra feminine and the very last thing I’d expected.

  I turn to the nearest mirror and hold one up to my ear. “This is the sexiest present I’ve ever received.”

  “I can’t take all the credit. The box was the saleslady’s idea.”

  I turn back to him. “The box is cute. The earrings are the kind of thing that will get a man laid.”

  He looks even happier but says, “What’s with the kid calling himself ‘The Cur?’”

  I laugh and respect anew his subtlety…or is it his confidence? Give me a man who enjoys the journey every time. “That’s Curran’s new moniker.”

  “As in mangy dog?”

  I smile. “It’s got a bite to it, aw-ite?”

  William laughs, and I think, yeah, for now everything’s all right.

  30

  “Hello, Lu.”

  “Jacob.”

  He looks quite natural framed in the doorway, though I never used to have to open it for him. Today, he’s the very last person I expected to see. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah. Just thought I’d drop by.” He whips a hand from behind his back and produces a package with a bow. “Happy birthday, Lu.”

  “You remembered.” I don’t say this in giddy expectation, for Jacob was never big on birthdays, or holidays in general for that matter. Cheap and particular, I remind myself with lowering expectations. “Thank you.”

  He continues to stand there. Actually he’s staring into the hallway behind me like a stray that hopes to be let in. I’m out of options without being absolutely rude. And, I admit, I’m touched that Jacob remembered the day. I guess fifty years is a milestone even an ex-husband is unlikely to forget.

  “Would you like to come in for a minute while I open it?”

  “Yeah.” He looks relieved.

  William has gone to the grocery store. I move to the circular table in the entry hall, one ear cocked for the sound of a garage door opening. Quickly I tear to shreds the wrapping paper, then pop the ribbons of tape by running a fingernail under the edge of the box lid. Clouds of tissue paper take flight as I dig for the item.

  It’s a crystal bowl, Mikasa not Steuben, but certainly nicer than the beer steins that were my first birthday present from him. (I don’t drink beer but he does.) Last year’s present was a pair of Calphalon oven mitts. He boasted that he thought to buy them because he remembered I had burned my arm trying to wrestle the Easter ham out of the oven. Associations with food are his strong poi
nt.

  I hold up the bowl, noting the etched design, and feel my heart thaw a few degrees. “Why, Jacob, it’s lovely. I didn’t expect anything.…”

  “So nice?” His self-deprecating smile further disarms me. He’s sporting a tan so perfect that, if I didn’t know better, I’d suspect he’s been going to a tanning salon. Naw! He’s too cheap.

  “Admit it. You aren’t the world’s best gift giver.”

  He takes a few steps down the hall and leans around the corner to peer into the dining room, looking around as if trying to discover what changes I’ve made. Maybe he thinks I’m selling off the furniture to pay the mortgage.

  Finally he turns back to me. “So, I’m not the best shopper. You know how it is. Female things all look the same to me. And sizes?” He shrugs. “I had, uh, help.”

  “Sandra picked it out.” I set the crystal piece down a bit hard. But, hey, at least I didn’t heave it in his direction. “Well, thank you for the thought. I’m a bit busy, and since I wasn’t expecting you, I really need to get back to work.”

  He shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “What kind of busy are you on your birthday? You having a party, maybe?”

  “Andrea threw one for me yesterday.” I’m entitled to embellish the lunch.

  He frowns at this. “I wasn’t invited.”

  “You’d have accepted?”

  “I might have.” He points at the box. “I got a gift, didn’t I?”

  “Yes.” And despite the fact that his new ladyfriend purchased it, I guess I have to give him some credit. Is that a car engine I hear in the back?

  To my consternation, Jacob heads for the kitchen. “I need a drink,” he says after the fact.

  “I can get it,” I say quickly, but I’m already trailing him. Oh, damn! Did I leave out the dishes from a late breakfast, two of everything sitting in plain sight?

  Jacob enters the kitchen and stops abruptly, as if expecting something. Then he saunters over to the counter, opens a cabinet and stares as if his glass selection will affect some important event. When he’s taken down a tall, clear tumbler, he carries it over to the refrigerator and pushes it into the slot for ice water. Every second of activity winds me a little tighter. It’s as though he’s playing for time. But, of course, it’s just me who knows about William.

  Jacob says, as he watches the glass fill, “So, what have you been doing with yourself?”

  “The usual.” I won’t look at my watch. I won’t!

  He looks up, and suddenly amazement enters his expression. “My God, Lu! You’re getting huge.”

  “You always had a way with compliments.” My crinkle-cotton caftan makes the most of my evolving profile. I touch my middle. “We’re both doing well. Thank you for asking.”

  He takes a long gulp of his water while I hang in the doorway, hoping my reluctance to enter the kitchen suggests that he shouldn’t tarry there, either. Please don’t let William find him here, I fret. Or is it that I don’t want Jacob to find out about William and me? Oh, what the hell. He’s got Sandra. I just don’t need a scene.

  When he’s well watered, Jacob runs the back of a hand across his mouth. “Jeez, Lu. I didn’t think you’d do this to yourself.”

  I decide this time not to repeat how he had a helping hand in the matter. I simply cross my arms and give him what I hope looks like an impatient stare.

  He leans a hip against the countertop. “The thing is, since you got into this situation, I just wanted to say that—well, I…” He’s rubbing his hair and looking everywhere but at me. I haven’t seen him this nervous since he told me he had filed for divorce, two days after he had walked out. That day I was in such shock I couldn’t gauge the extent of his emotional distress. This time I can fully appreciate his discomfort.

  “I’ve got some responsibility for things. I admit it, Lu.” He looks at me with hound-dog eyes. “So, I’m gonna pay half the bills you got connected with the situation.”

  I suspect I’d be more impressed if I wasn’t practically toe-dancing over the fact that I’m sure I just heard a car door slam. I move quickly to grab Jacob by the arm. “Can we talk about this some other time?” I tug him toward the hall. “It’s wonderful of you to want to help. Really. Let me think about it.”

  “What’s the hustle for?” He plants his feet, which brings us both to a stop. “What are you hiding?”

  It’s not what he says. It’s the fact that he has any suspicion at all that tips me off.

  I release him and step back. “Who have you been talking to?”

  “So it’s true.” He juts out his chin. “You want to tell me who the guy is?”

  I’m finding it difficult to draw breath. “Are you spying on me?”

  “I am not.” Jacob looks indignant. “Dallas might have mentioned you were seeing someone.” Then, realizing he sounds as if he was hiding behind his daughter, he props a fist on each hip. “You should know you can’t keep this kind of thing a secret. Might as well tell me.”

  “You must be joking. My life is no longer any of your business, Mr. ‘Not-Meeting-My-Needs.’” Uh-oh, I’d promised myself as a New Year’s resolution never to go there again.

  He wags his head. “I thought you’d have more class.”

  Is that the garage door? As a kid I once ventured into a neighbor’s chicken coop. Flustered by my inept groping for eggs, the hens took flight in the dim, nearly airless space. I thought I’d smother before I got out. That’s how I feel now, cornered and lacking oxygen.

  I march over to the front door and open it. “Just go, Jacob.”

  Bullheadedness is considered a manly trait in just about every country. When Jacob plants his feet apart, I know what’s coming. “I’m not going anywhere until I know exactly what you’re doing, and with whom.”

  Stubbornness runs through a significant portion of the female population, too.

  I hurry over and pick up the crystal bowl and shove it at him. “You could have saved the girlfriend a shopping trip by making a call instead of sneaking in here behind that cheap excuse of a present just to check me out. I’m seeing someone. You’re seeing someone. That’s life. Now go.”

  He cradles the bowl like a huge egg. “What about the—uh…”

  “Baby?” If he could just once say the word I might be able to forgive a lot. “Not your problem. I’m sole custodian, Jacob. I know how to look after us. Goodbye.”

  He takes a few steps toward the door and then whips around, a horrified look on his face. “You’re having sex!” He just figured this out? “Jesus H. Christ! Have you lost your mind? You’re pregnant!”

  I point at the door behind him. “Out!”

  His shoe squeaks as he digs a toe into the rug. “Lu, Lu. You’re behaving like one of those sad, miserable women who screw around to get back at their husbands.”

  “I don’t have a husband.” I take several steps toward him, propelled by his arrogant assumption that I couldn’t make a decision that didn’t include a thought of him. “But yes. I’m having wonderful, unsafe kinky sex with a twenty-five-year old stud muffin.” I feel muscles straining in my neck as I wave my arms for emphasis. “Now get the hell out of my house!”

  I must be pretty impressive because Jacob backs up a couple of steps to the doorway. “Okay, Lu.” He raises a hand to fend off my wrath. “We’ll talk about this another time. You’re too upset now. Think about the baby.”

  “Oh—my—God! You actually said the word. You said baby.”

  His gaze shifts away from mine. “Okay, so maybe I had that coming. But who is going to look after you, and the baby, if you run me off?”

  “No problem. Lu’s in good hands.”

  Jacob and I both jump. For all the listening I had been doing, the sound of William’s voice still shocks me.

  I turn to William, standing in the entrance to the kitchen, and my expression is enough to raise his eyebrows. “Would you mind giving us a moment?”

  But Jacob has spied his prey. He comes
rushing back into the room and all but dumps the crystal bowl on the table. “Who the hell are you?”

  “William, this is Jacob, my ex. Jacob, this is Dr. Templeton.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Jacob slides his hands into his pockets and smirks. “I didn’t know doctors still made house calls.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know, Jacob. So just go away.” I wave him off, but the gesture seems to throw me off center and I wobble.

  “Are you okay?” Jacob asks as William moves toward me.

  “I’m fine.” But suddenly I don’t feel so fine. The rage of the last few moments has left me woozy. I need a chair, but I’m not about to leave this hallway with two men squaring off against each other.

  Jacob scowls at me. “We need to finish this, Lu. In private.”

  “Why don’t you just come back another time?” William’s tone is that of a physician dealing with a difficult relative of a patient.

  Jacob cocks back his head, chin jutting upward because William tops him by three inches. “Who the hell are you to be telling me, under my own roof, that I should do anything?”

  “It’s my roof, Jacob.” I make eye contact with him and say very deliberately, “And I’m asking you, nicely, to leave.”

  Jacob hunches his shoulders, his head sinking into his neck. He points a finger at my middle but he’s glaring at William. “That’s my kid, just so you know!”

  “You’ve decided to own up to it?”

  Jacob starts, as if poked. “Just what the hell is he talking about, Lu?”

  “It’s no secret that you aren’t in favor of me having this baby, Jacob.” I shift my weight to bring my body more fully between them. “You told the kids and Cy.”

  “That’s family. And friends. What’s it the hell to him?”

  “He’s my doctor.”

  “And her friend.” William lays an arm across my shoulders. I’m not sure whether I should thank him or break it off at the elbow. This is clearly no longer about me. It’s a pissing contest and I’m the tree. “Lu’s made her decision, and I’m here to back her up.”