by Becky Monson
Lennon reaches the door a few seconds after her. “Hey, Julia,” he says, sounding slightly out of breath.
“So, we should be back around two,” Jenny says, putting the diaper bag down on the couch. She reaches in the bag and pulls out a piece of paper. “Here’s his schedule. When to feed him, put him down. You’ve done all this before, but I thought I’d write it down anyway.”
Lennon nods his head agreeing with Jenny. I, on the other hand, am completely dumbfounded.
“I’m sorry?” I say, looking from Jenny and then to Lennon.
“It’s the sixteenth,” Jenny says, looking at me like I should know what she’s talking about.
“Yes,” I say, agreeing. We all know it’s the sixteenth. It’s the day of the gala.
“You said you could watch Liam for us?” She says, the color draining quickly from her face.
“I did?” I say, my eyes widening. I literally have no recollection.
“Yeah,” Lennon says. “At the Sunday dinner last month.” His face scrunches as if he’s questioning my sanity. I barely remember being at our monthly Sunday dinner.
“Uh,” I say, trying to remember this conversation. Nothing is coming to me.
“Did you forget?” Jenny asks, panic suddenly in her voice.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, bouncing Liam on my hip. “I don’t even remember having the conversation. I have the gala tonight. I don’t think I can do it.”
Jenny’s face goes into her palms and Lennon places a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“We’re totally stuck, Julia,” he says. “Do you think you could still do it?” His eyes appear to be begging, which is a sight rarely seen on Lennon.
“Um, I don’t think—“
“Please, Julia,” Jenny pleads.
“Do you think Mom could do it?” I look to Liam and then, without warning, Jenny bursts into tears.
Was that such a horrible idea? I mean, my mom is Liam’s grandma. I’m so confused right now.
“No, Mom can’t do it,” Lennon says, his hand still on Jenny’s shoulder.
“What about Anna,” I say and Jenny cries louder. Okay, so not Anna. I look around my condo in an attempt to help me think of someone more suitable to watch Liam. I’d suggest Jenny’s parents, but they moved to Vegas last year.
“Isn’t there anyone else?” I ask, still bouncing Liam on my hip and every once in a while I give him little kisses on his cheek. He has the softest, most adorable cheeks.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Lennon asks, sounding urgent as he guides me and Liam into my room. He shuts the door behind us.
“What did I say?” I ask, gesturing toward the closed door where Jenny is still crying on the other side.
“Look,” Lennon says quietly. “We weren’t planning on telling anyone this, but…” he trails off, running a hand through his hair.
“But what?” I ask, pulling my eyebrows together. I’ve never seen Lennon so out of sorts.
“Jenny and I are having some problems.”
“What?” I say loudly, and he shushes me with raised eyebrows. Look, if he wasn’t expecting me to overreact here, then he doesn’t know me at all.
“Keep it down. Jenny doesn’t want our family getting involved,” he says in a loud whisper.
“What’s been going on?”
He exhales. “It’s a lot of things.” He reaches down and fumbles with the front of his untucked button-up shirt.
“We just don’t seem to have time for each other anymore.” He looks up at me with sad eyes. “I work too much, and she’s too obsessed with the motherhood thing. Haven’t you noticed that you’re the only person she trusts to watch Liam?”
I’d noticed that. But honestly I thought it was because Liam is always willing to go to me, so it just made it easier on Jenny to leave him with me.
“She doesn’t ever want to be away from him, Jules. She practically has a panic attack anytime I mention it. She needs a break, but she won’t take one.”
I feel like putting my hands over Liam’s ears. He shouldn’t be hearing this. Although he seems quite taken with a skin tag on my neck. I don’t think he’s paying attention. But don’t kids get this stuff subconsciously?
“We’re going to a couples counseling session today,” Lennon says, sounding very glum.
“It’s gotten that bad?” I ask, keeping my voice in a low whisper.
“Yes,” he says, his eyes downcast. He almost looks like a little boy when he does that and I have flashbacks of Lennon and me making forts with couch cushions and digging a hole to China in our back yard together. This is before we got too cool for one another. For a while there, we were inseparable. Not seeing him like the strong, confident lawyer he’s become makes my heart sink for him.
“Please Julia, can you make it work?”
I look at Liam, still pulling and tugging at the skin tag on my neck. How can I say no?
“Sure,” I say. I haven’t the slightest idea how I can do it, but of course I have to try. My racing heart (seriously, it hasn’t slowed down since I woke up) picks up a little faster at the thought of all I have to do today. But of course I can make it work. I have to, for Lennon.
“Thanks, Julia,” Lennon says, looking at me. I can see his eyes filling with—holy crap, are those tears? I don’t know if I’ve ever seen adult Lennon cry.
“Of course,” I say as reassuringly as I can. All the while, the panic in my stomach is building. How am I going to make this all work?
He opens the door to my room and walks out to the living room where Jenny looks to have pulled herself together a little. I try my best to not outwardly react to what Lennon has just told me.
“Let’s go,” he says to Jenny, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“Thank you so much, Julia,” she says, relief in her eyes. “We’ll be back by two.”
“No problem,” I say,
They both give me half-hearted closed-mouth smiles as Liam and I wave goodbye from the door.
“Well, it’s just you and me kid,” I say, and then plant another kiss on his soft baby cheek. He answers with a little baby jabber, which I’m certain means something to him, but means absolutely nothing to me.
“How do you feel about salons?”
~*~
Turns out getting your hair and makeup done with a baby is pretty much impossible. I mean, just getting him and the diaper bag to the salon was a nightmare in itself. Lennon and Jenny didn’t leave a stroller so I had to carry him, which was no big deal because the kid barely weighs over twenty pounds. I carry twenty-pound bags of flour around the bakery all the time. Not for four blocks, though.
Four blocks doesn’t seem like a lot, I know. But trust me when I say carrying a baby for that distance is no easy task. I even set him down and let him walk a bit, but that was like trying to get a cat to stay with me. I totally get why people put leashes on their kids now. I don’t think I ever could, but now I get it.
I am out of breath and sweating by the time I make it to the salon. My poor heart is overworked, and again never settles down to a normal pace. I don’t even have the time (or the constitution) to truly think about what that could mean right now (ahem, possible heart failure). I’ll have to worry about it on Monday. Maybe I’ll even see a doctor. Maybe.
Lucky for me, the girl at the front desk took a liking to Liam and she held him while they worked on me. Every once in a while he’d fuss for me and we’d have to take a break while I calmed him down and we found him something to shake, or tear, or throw. So far we’ve given him keys, magazines, sample bottles of shampoo, and combs. The glint for which only lasted mere minutes before the little stinker would get bored and move on.
I know I said I was feeling jealous of Brown, but now I’m wondering if I even have it in me to do this all the time. Good heavens, mothering is exhausting.
With my hair and makeup done, I decided the best course of action would be to call for a taxi to get back home. I know it’s only four blocks
, but I don’t want to mess up my hair, and I mostly don’t want to carry Liam back. Let’s be honest here.
We make it home without too much drama. Well, there was a little when Liam tried to pull some of my pinned-up hair out. But I think I was able to stop him in time. I hope. It wasn’t until I got up to my condo that I noticed Liam’s face was covered in lipstick from all the kisses I gave him in the taxi ride. I quickly cleaned him up with a wipe from the diaper bag.
When my doorbell rings at two I feel as if I’ve run a marathon. And my heart is still beating rapidly. I don’t think it’s ever slowed down.
“What happened to you?” Lennon asks when I opened the door, his eyes questioning me as he takes in my hair and makeup.
“Gala, remember?” I say, feeling suddenly like we’re back in our teenage years. What does he mean by what “happened” to me? Stupid younger brothers. They never change.
He gives me a little shrug. “Looks nice.”
“Thanks,” I say, all defensive thoughts stripped away with his comment.
“How did it go?” Jenny asks as she picks up a clapping and smiling Liam. I was only slightly jealous seeing him so excited when he looked up at her. It was too cute to truly be envious of.
“It was totally fine,” I say not wanting to stress her out with how the day actually went. It wasn’t so terrible. It definitely could’ve been worse.
“Thanks so much, Julia,” Lennon says, grabbing the diaper bag from the couch. I want to ask him how the counseling went, but obviously this isn’t the time to do it.
I’m not the best reader of body language, but something does seem a little different between them. Like they’re more relaxed after being so tightly wound. There’s definitely a difference in Jenny. I hope they can figure this all out. I mean, if Jenny and Lennon can’t make it, what hope does that give me? Not that our circumstances are the same, but they’ve always seemed to have this marriage thing figured out.
I walk them to the door, kiss Liam goodbye (leaving more lipstick on his cheek), and watch them as the walk down the hall toward the elevators. They look like the perfect little family as they walk together. It makes me realize that I shouldn’t be so quick to judge people. You have no idea what people are going through. Even your own family.
CHAPTER
18
I was barely squeezed into my dress (well, the squeezing was mostly into my Spanx) when Jared came to the door.
“Wow,” he says when he sees me in my plum evening gown. “Wow,” he repeats himself.
“Thanks,” I say, holding back a snarky comment like “this old thing?” or “I look like an eggplant.” I don’t take compliments well, and honestly I did look good. Better than I normally do, that’s for sure. I kind of felt like Cinderella in a purple, non-frilly dress. Cinderella with a rapid heart rate. Yep, that was still happening. I’d been so busy taking care of Liam and getting ready that I hadn’t had too much time to really dwell on it. But it was still there. Thump, thump, thump.
I take in the sight of Jared in a tux and my racing heart gives a quick thud. He’s so handsome. Like, hot-handsome. Sometimes I’m not sure how we ended up together with me and my frumpiness. I mean, I was trying for a while there, but once I got the ring on my finger I kind of let it slide a little. What can I say, there’s too much going on in my life right now for me to put a lot of effort into my appearance. That may be why I got the double “wow” when he saw me.
Jared reaches for me and pulls me into him. His strong arms wrap around my waist. “Have I told you lately that I can’t wait to marry you?”
“You haven’t, but it was implied,” I say, the side of my mouth lifting up in a half smile.
“Implied?”
“Yes, implied.”
“How?”
“You haven’t run from the crazy yet. So that must mean you’re in it for the long haul,” I say with a shrug.
His hand releases from my waist and coming up to his jaw, he rubs the base of it with his index finger and thumb. “That’s true,” he acts as if he’s contemplating. “There has been a lot of crazy.”
“I know,” I say, my lips pulling into a frown. “I promise it won’t be like this forever.”
“Won’t it?” He asks, with a slight lilt. “Because the crazy is what I fell in love with.” The corners of his mouth pull up a touch.
“Oh good,” I say. “It was going to be a hard life with me trying to hold all that in.”
He laughs and then pulls me in for a kiss that makes my legs feel like jelly. Good thing I hadn’t yet redone the lipstick that I kissed off on Liam earlier.
My phone beeps, interrupting the kiss.
“The limo’s here,” I say, after pulling away from him and checking my phone. I clap my hands, excited. I probably look like Liam when he claps, but who cares. I’m riding in a limo!
“Then let’s go,” Jared says all jovially, opening the door and ushering me out like a proper escort.
I feel like a superstar as we get into the limo. People on the street stop and gawk at the sight of us dressed up. I mean, me gussied up and Jared looking all Jared-y … who wouldn’t look at us?
I’m not going to lie, getting into the limo was a bit tough since I can barely bend at the waist. But I managed to do it without looking like a robot. Hopefully.
The limo is elegant and even has a bar inside that I’m afraid to touch because I would probably spill. Also, I planned on not eating or drinking a thing as to not cut off my circulation from the Spanx (more than is already happening now), and also because if I have to pee, I may never get myself back into the dress. So no eating or using the bathroom the entire night. Good luck to me.
I’m nervous anyway. I wasn’t sure if they’d want me to give a speech or something. I jotted down a few notes and plan to wing it. I’m so not a wing-it kind of girl, but after the vow debacle (which I’ve still not written), I figured I’d never find it in me to write up a speech. Besides, everyone hates it when someone drones on and on. Just take the dang award and be gone with yourself.
Jared helps me get out of the limo when we arrive (it’s also hard to go from sitting to standing in these Spanx). He places my hand in the crook of his elbow and we walk down the red carpet. Although there are no adoring fans screaming “we love you, Julia!” there are photographers. We even had to stop and strike a couple of poses. I’m quite sure my double chin made an appearance. At least there was no eye twitch yet.
Speaking of eye twitches, I have yet to see Lisa tonight. Maybe she got sick and couldn’t make it.
“Hey you two!” An annoying voice says as soon as we enter the ballroom.
“Hi Lisa.” I spoke too soon. Damn. My eye twitches, as it usually does when Lisa enters the room, and it’s such a large twitch that I actually look like I’ve just winked at her. She winks back. How do you take back a wink? It’s impossible.
“Julia, what a darling dress,” she says over-cheerfully and utterly fake.
“Thanks,” I say, not returning the compliment. She’s wearing a tight black number with a slit up to her belly button (only a slight exaggeration). Her dark hair is down and looking glossy as ever. Her hair is the only thing I can bring myself to like about Lisa.
“It’s nice to see you all dolled up,” she says, hand gesturing toward my hair and makeup. “I wish I could have the guts to wear the get-out-of-bed-and-go look you do so well every day.” Her eyes twinkle in the dim lighting.
Twitch.
I give her a small closed mouth smile, and then pinch Jared in the arm with my hand that’s tucked into his elbow. He gives me a strange look. Such a guy—he’s totally oblivious to her jabs.
“I think we should find out seats,” I say to Jared and the light gleams in his eyes like he finally understands.
“I’ll catch up with you later,” she yells as we walk away.
Not if I can help it. This is my night, dang it. I won’t let her and her ridiculously silky hair ruin it.
The ballroom is de
corated in gold and black. Every table has been set to perfection, and the centerpieces look elegant with golds and creams. I only have to search for a moment before I find my cupcakes up at the front. They look gorgeous and go so well with the motif.
We find our place cards at a table at the front of the room, right by the temporary stage. My heart sinks when I see the stage. There are stairs. Stairs! I’m not exactly sure what I was envisioning, but I clearly did not picture stairs. And no rail either. I have to navigate those suckers all on my own. There’s a single podium in the middle of the stage and awards lined up on a table in the back.
Jared and I take a seat at our table. We’re the last people to join, apparently. I glance over at the table next to us and there sits some of my old coworkers from Spectraltech. I wave to Mr. Calhoun who looks jovial as ever, Martha sitting to his right. They are still together after they struck up a little romance at the office when I worked there. It was kind of creepy at the time, but now it seems kind of sweet. Or maybe I’ve just gotten used to it.
I spy a couple of people from sales and wave at them. I stretch my neck up a little, searching for Brown, but there’s no sign of her. I decide to go over to the table to do a little investigating.
“Well hello there, Julia,” Mr. Calhoun says as I approach. His round Santa Clause belly shakes as he talks. He stands up and gives me a quick hug. “Am I to guess that you’ve made the ‘proverbial’ cupcakes I see?” His head nods over to the cupcake display.
Oh, Mr. Calhoun and his misuse of the word proverbial. I can’t believe I’m actually thinking this, but I sort of miss it. He comes to the bakery every now and then, but I’m usually too busy to have a conversation with him.
“Where’s Brown?” I ask as I see the empty chairs next to Martha where a place card says “Betsy Brown” on it.
“Didn’t she tell you?” Mr. Calhoun asks, his brow furrowed.
“Tell me what?” I ask, feeling instant worry settle in my gut.
“She wasn’t feeling well,” he says and then drops his head to my ear. “The ‘proverbial’ stomach bug,” he says in a half whisper.