by Amanda Aksel
It meant no social media. I couldn’t take seeing pictures of my friends and their adorable kids, especially Ginger’s newborn baby girl, Felicity. It also meant that I ignored Telly’s calls for over a week and couldn’t quite bring myself to talk to Holly. I wanted to, but I felt like a junkie in a twelve-step program. If I were around other mothers, I’d slip back into my addiction and shoot myself up with Clomid. No, I had to abstain.
I bid my time with work since I had plenty of it. Katie was only about six weeks from leaving and Andy and I were still interviewing candidates. None of whom seemed right for us. But just as James and I would eventually figure out our baby situation, I knew Andy and I would figure out our practice.
I had been about two weeks baby-sober when I was working at home with a cup of half-caf coffee, reviewing more resumes. The front door slammed shut and echoed all the way upstairs.
“Babe, I'm home!” James called.
I swallowed a sip of my lukewarm coffee. “Up here!”
“Why don't you come downstairs?” he asked.
I didn’t take my eyes off the screen. “I'm working.”
“But I have a surprise for you,” he sang in a way that he knew would easily tempt me to walk away from the computer.
A surprise, huh? Probably just some sweets. Maybe a bouquet of flowers. Whatever it was, I hoped it was made of chocolate. I dropped my pen and pushed my chair away from the desk.
“What'd you get?” I asked, practically jogging down the stairs as if it were Christmas morning.
“Come see,” he said. As I turned the corner of the last step, James stood in the middle of the room with a tiny white puppy tucked in his jacket. All I could see was a pair of pointy ears, a little black nose, and sweet, innocent eyes.
I gasped, covering my mouth with my hands. “Oh, my God.”
He held the little one up, all five pounds of it. “Meet Stella, the newest addition to the Young family.”
Stella glanced up at me and I placed my hand softly on her tiny head. Her fluffy hair was as soft as silk and puffy as cotton. I reached for her and held her against my chest. “Hi, Stella,” I said and glanced up at James. “You got me a puppy? What kind is she?”
He tucked his hands in his pocket and rocked on his heels. “She’s a Westie. She’ll stay small. Do you like her?”
I lifted her face to mine and kissed her wet nose. “What's not to like? But we didn't talk about getting another dog.”
“I know, but Marvin's getting older and I thought that in the meantime, Stella could be our baby. Dogs make great kids.”
I thought back to when James and I first dated and Marvin almost ran me off the stairs. Now, he was my little buddy with the big head. “How old is she?”
“Eleven weeks,” he said. “I've been keeping my eye on her for the last week until she was ready to leave the litter.”
Wow, she was practically a newborn. And I would be her mommy. I felt my heart melt right onto the puppy. I was in love.
“So, can we keep her?” he asked.
I held little Stella to my chest and pet her back while she rested her chin on my collarbone. I rocked side to side, lulling her to sleep. Her eyelids grew heavy and she breathed out a tired sigh. “Yeah, we can keep her.”
I tiptoed to James, trying not to wake the puppy, and kissed him quietly. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“You're welcome.”
That night when we went to bed, little Stella had no intention of sleeping in her tiny crate. She whined and pawed the door. I covered my head with the pillows, but her puppy cries were too strong. James seemed to sleep right through it. I flipped the covers off my feet and the moment I opened her crate and picked her up, the crying stopped. I walked carefully downstairs and let her outside in case she needed some potty time. With no sweater and no shoes, it was pretty damn chilly out on the deck.
“Go potty,” I said, rubbing my hands over my arms. She wandered around the yard sniffing at everything like she was missing her favorite dog bone. An eternity later, she went on the grass. “Thank God.”
I brought her back in the house; even the cold floor felt warm against my frozen feet. Stella seemed to be much calmer, so I set her crate on my nightstand next to the bed so she could at least see us. “Now, go to sleep,” I whispered. She lay down, her nose peeking through the door of the crate. Just as I was about to drift off, her little chimpanzee-sounding whine started again. That was the first moment I felt a mother’s panic. What did she want? Was she hungry? Did she want to play? What was I supposed to do with a crying puppy?
I opened the door of the crate and brought her in close to me, humming Baby Mine as I stroked my finger along the top of her head to her tail. She quieted immediately. James told me not to let her sleep in the bed no matter what. Otherwise, she'd sleep there with us forever. But she was so tiny and warm and now she was asleep. I didn't want to move her. I kinda liked snuggling with the little fluff ball. Besides, I was sure the next night she'd feel safe enough to sleep in her own bed.
The next day, I got an earful from James about having Stella in the bed. But it did nothing to ruin my puppy-high. In fact, spending the day caring for the little pup was exactly what I needed in my recovery process. I felt strong enough to move on to the next step and that evening I picked up my phone to call Holly. I’d thought all day about what I’d say to her. But as I stared at her number on the screen, nothing I wanted to say felt right. That was when I realized I shouldn’t call her. I should go see her.
On the way there, I played the potential conversation in my head over and over, memorizing all the things I wanted to say, all the words that would defend my actions. I showed up about thirty minutes later, praying that she’d answer the door.
“Hey,” she said, seeming unsure whether to smile or wait.
“Hey,” I said, keeping my feet planted on the welcome mat, wondering if I was still welcome. My eyes dropped to her swollen stomach. My best friend since childhood was having a baby. I should’ve been over the moon for her and I at least needed to try. Holly closed her sweater around her chest, shielding her pregnant belly. I swallowed the lump in my throat, ready to release my defense. But all that came out was, “I’m sorry.”
She just stared at me. And even though her face was sad, she had that glow, like the sun behind the clouds.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t been here for you.”
“I get it. I half expected worse. I was just hoping that I was wrong,” she said. And the fact that she half expected worse made me realize that if I ever wanted to be a mother, I needed to grow up. “I know this has been really difficult for you, but it's been difficult for me too. Every single day I wake up, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something to happen to the baby. I never dreamed that I could have this and I'm terrified that it's not real. Oh—” She clutched a hand to her stomach.
“What happened? Are you okay?” I stepped forward and placed my hand on hers.
She shook her head, letting her smile shine through. “Fine,” she said and placed my hand right on her belly. “A kick. That's all.”
I felt a nudge from inside her tummy. It was even more powerful than when I felt Ginger’s baby.
“Can you feel it?” she asked.
I looked into her sweet eyes again, almost in disbelief. Holly was practically my sister and this little kick was from someone who would join our crazy family. I nodded with tears stinging my eyes.
“He does that a lot,” she said.
“He?” I asked. “It's a boy. You're having a boy?”
She nodded and my tears spilled down my cheeks. Holly and Noom were having a boy. In that moment, I experienced my own miracle and felt nothing but pure joy for my friend. They deserved to be happy with their son and I couldn’t wait to spoil him like crazy.
“Oh, my God! You're having a baby boy.” I pulled her in for a hug and she squeezed me as tight as she could, given that her belly pushed more space between us. But that space was no longer
in the way of our friendship.
Holly invited me inside. We snuggled near one another on her couch, drinking tea, and she told me all about the pregnancy. I told her about my night with Keiko and showed her a picture of my new daughter, Stella, and said that I already missed her. By the time I left, all was right with the world. So much so that I turned to her and said, “Let me host your baby shower.”
She smiled “Really? That’s not too much?”
“No, I want to. Besides, I’m sure Rachel’s already got most of it planned by now.”
Holly laughed. “Yeah. She’s pretty excited about her nephew.”
“Me too,” I said, touching her miracle belly one last time.
“Good because you’ll be his aunt too.”
As I walked home from the Muni that evening, my heart was so much lighter that my steps practically floated along the sidewalk. When I walked in the door, little Stella scampered over, her tail wagging freely. I picked her up and planted a thousand little kissed on her head. After all, she was my baby.
The next morning, I worked steadily at my desk, bopping around and singing to myself.
Andy popped his head in my doorway. “Marin, what's going on with you?”
I looked up and slid my glasses off my face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I haven’t seen you this happy since you got married. Wait . . . are you pregnant, because you’re kinda glowing?”
I shook my head, still smiling. “No, I’m not, but for the first time in almost two years, I’m okay with that.”
He looked taken aback. “Really, what changed?”
“A lot of things,” I said. “But I think I’m starting to realize that my happiness doesn’t depend on whether or not I can get pregnant. There are many ways to be a mother. And sometimes just being a good friend and wife and counselor is more than enough.”
Andy blinked a few times. “Holy shit. That’s the most mature thing you’ve said all year.”
“Well, that’s the thing about struggles. They either kill you or force you to grow.”
He chuckled. “Spoken like a true therapist.”
“I think you mean a Top 40 Under 40 therapist.”
He rolled his eyes. “Listen, I set up an interview for a young counselor. She did her internship over at SFP, but they're not hiring full time. I need you to see her tomorrow at two.”
“Sure,” I said. “I just hope she’s better than the other ones. I don't understand these millennials. I mean, half of them still live with their parents.”
He arched his eyebrow. “Aren't you technically a millennial?”
I shrugged. “I don't know the difference between millennials, gen y, and indigo children. I just know I was born in the eighties.”
“Well, the way you feel about these little pipsqueaks is the way I felt about you when you first walked through these doors. You were so young and so green. And now . . . you and I are going to run this show ourselves. Crazy how things work out, huh?”
“Pff! You got that right.”
The following afternoon just after two o’clock, Andy called my desk. “She's ready for you. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” I said, thinking that I’d need it if the interview were anything like the others. Her name was Margo Hughes and she wore the same expression on her face that I did when I arrived at Golden Gate Psychotherapy Center just six years ago. By her resume, I assumed she was also about six years younger than me. Her ironed-straight brown hair was held back with a simple headband. She wore a cream blazer, almost identical to the one my mom hid deep in my closet, and a navy pencil skirt.
I flashed her a friendly smile. “Good afternoon!”
She stood and extended her hand. “Hello, Dr. Johns-Young. I’m Dr. Margo Hughes.”
I wanted to giggle at her use of the title Dr. Not to make fun of her, but because I remembered using it a lot when I first finished my PhD program. The title made those all-nighters writing my thesis totally worth it.
“Margo, nice to meet you,” I said.
There was something sweet and unassuming about her. I instantly liked her one hundred times more than the other candidates. We sat in the meeting room chairs facing one another and she seemed to relax. Not in a casual way, but in a confident way.
“So tell me, why are you interested in working in our practice?”
She leaned forward, resting her hands on her lap. “Well, to tell you the truth, I saw the article in Bay Local Magazine and your story sounds exactly the way I want my career story to look in the next five to ten years.”
“Really?”
“Yes, you started out as an associate therapist only to work your way up to being a partner. You have a growing practice and still have time to spend with your husband.”
“Are you married?” I asked.
“No, but I will be soon.” She held up a glistening diamond ring—a sure sign she wanted to commit.
“That’s great!” I said, recalling my first engagement when I wasn’t much older than her. I reviewed her resume again for a few moments, noting that she also studied on the East Coast.
“How did you like Philadelphia?” I asked.
“It wasn't bad. The winters were a little cold for my taste. I couldn’t wait to come back to California.”
“So you're originally from here?”
She beamed. “Yep, I grew up in Santa Cruz.”
“No kidding? I'm from San Jose.”
“Wow, we were practically neighbors,” she said. That’s when I saw it—the eternal optimist glimmer in her green eyes. She was me six years ago and I knew that she would blossom at our practice, the same way I had. Better, even. I’d be the new Katie and she’d be the new Marin. She was perfect.
“Well, I have to say, I think you'd be a great fit for us. Andy and I will discuss it over the weekend and I’ll call you Monday.”
“That's it?” She looked confused. “You don't want to ask me any other questions?”
“Nope. All the pertinent information is on your resume. This is just to get a sense of who you are. And I think I’ve got that.”
“Oh, okay. Well, great! I can’t wait to hear from you.” She stood up and grabbed her oversized purse that looked to weigh about eight pounds. Oh yeah, she was a Marin.
CHAPTER THIRTY
It Takes a Village
It was easy to convince Andy to hire Margo, especially since I said I would take her under my wing. It was perfect timing because that Friday was Katie’s last day. I still couldn’t believe it, even though I had spent months preparing for it. We closed the office early and the three of us had an amazing dinner out, Katie’s treat. The entire night I ignored the fact that it would be the last time the three of us would ever be together like that. Katie promised to visit but I knew better. And I think Andy did too. Katie waited with me outside of the restaurant for my cab ride home, while Andy finished his conversation with the cute waitress inside.
Katie seemed to fidget the longer we were out there. “Don’t forget that the rent is due by the fifth,” she said.
“I won’t.”
“And Diana’s birthday is May second. I always get her a carrot cake because that’s her favorite.”
I nodded. “I know. I have it on my calendar.”
“And be there for Andy. Even if he doesn’t want you to. Sometimes he’ll need you to.”
“Okay,” I said, wondering how hard it must’ve been for her to give up over ten years of her work, of her friends, and her life. I couldn’t even imagine leaving San Francisco, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the good of your family. “Everything will be great, Katie. Here and in Dallas.”
She pulled me in so fast I nearly slipped on my heel. “I couldn’t have done this without you. I know the practice is in good hands.”
“I’ll take good care of it. I promise,” I said. My cab pulled up to the edge of the curb. “This is me. Call me when you get to Dallas.”
“I will,” she said.
I
stepped off the sidewalk and opened the taxi door. “Marin!” Katie called and I turned back. “Life throws a lot of curve balls but in the end, it all works out. You’ll see.”
I nodded. Life was already working out.
In the weeks that followed, life seemed to be settling down for the coming winter. Margo was catching on quickly and I had already given her a percentage of my patients. She even brought in some of her own.
One evening in late November, it was five o’clock and I was actually done for the day, as in I had completed my whole day’s work. I hadn’t done that since January. Before I left that night, I stopped by Margo’s office. She sat on her talking sofa, working on her tablet and stuffing her face with veggie chips.
I knocked on her doorframe. “Hey, thanks again for your help today. You did great.”
She looked up and swiped a crumb off her lip. “Thanks! You headed home?”
“Yeah. You leaving soon too?” I asked.
She blew her bangs from her face. “Wish I could but I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on. I have no idea how you can see a full day of patients and still have time to do all this other minutia. It kinda makes me want to hire an assistant.”
I set my bag down and slipped off my coat. “I used to feel the same way. And there were so many nights that I didn't leave the office until ten.”
“Yeah, that's been me the last few nights.”
I rolled up my sleeves. “Can I teach you a trick?”
“Really?” She grinned like I just told her we were going to Disneyland.
I pulled up a chair beside her and showed her my time-blocking method and how I easily transferred hand-written notes to digital.
“Look, I’d stay and help, but I have to go home and prep for my best friend’s baby shower tomorrow,” I said.
“Oh, yeah. When is she due again?”
“January,” I said without a hint of jealousy in my voice.
“That’s so cool. What about you? Any babies in your future?” she asked.