“What an exciting day!” Naomi was glowing with enthusiasm. “Wait until you see the gift bag I have for our mother-to-be! It’s full of aromatherapy oils that promote relaxation during labor. And all sorts of other goodies! In a bag made from natural hemp, I should add. Just like my dress.” Naomi spun around, sending her braids flying horizontally off her head while showing off her clay-colored pinafore. I ducked before I got smacked in the face but complimented her on her politically correct attire. “What a beautiful house!” she exclaimed after her three hundred sixty-degree spins.
My parents’ stucco house did look wonderful. In keeping with Adrianna’s fall theme, my mother and I had run red, orange, and brown ribbons along the traditional Spanish archways that ran between rooms on the first floor. Last year, my parents had refinished the wood floors in the large living room and had put in terra-cotta and decorative hand-painted tiles in the dining room to enhance the style of the house. The walls had been painted in soft earth colors, and at times I felt as if I were actually in New Mexico instead of in a Massachusetts suburb.
Adrianna arrived dressed entirely in hot pink, her nails painted to match her above-the-knee maternity dress and her chunky shoes. “I swear on my baby’s life that I’m going to kill my mother,” she hissed into my ear as I hugged her.
Adrianna was soon followed by her mother, Kitty, who appeared to be in deep mourning. She wore a black pantsuit with no accessories except a watch that she was already checking. Her badly tinted blonde hair hit her shoulders, where it rolled under in a perfect curl. Her expression suggested a combination of dissatisfaction and grief. Despite Kitty’s fune-real garb and air, it was hard to miss her incredible figure and easy to see where Adrianna had gotten her modelesque looks.
“Chloe, it’s lovely to see you. Where shall I put this?” Kitty held up a white gift bag.
“I’ll take it. It’s wonderful to see you, too.” Knowing that Kitty did not like to be touched, I leaned in and gave her air kisses. “I know my mother is eager to catch up with you. Why don’t you go find her in the kitchen?”
“Wonderful, darling.” Kitty brushed past me to seek out my mom.
I went to shut the door and nearly slammed it in Owen’s face. “Owen? What are you doing here?”
Poor Owen’s disheveled appearance made me suspect that Kitty had put him through the wringer since her arrival yesterday. No matter what, Owen was always incredibly handsome, but today his black hair was messy, and his fair skin had a sickly pallor.
“I drove Ade and Kitty here. I can’t leave Adrianna alone with that woman! Please let me stay.” His expression was pitiful.
“No, you can’t stay, dummy. This is a shower just for the girls. I promise I’ll mediate the Kitty situation. Ade will call you when it’s over.”
“But what if—”
“It’ll be fine,” I said as I shoved the groom-to-be out the door.
I introduced Robin and Nelson to Adrianna and then left the three of them to discuss the video.
Next to arrive were Owen’s mother, Eileen, his grandmother, Nana Sally, and his cousin Phoebe. Moments later, two women from Simmer showed up: Isabelle, a shy young cook whom Josh had taken under his wing, and Blythe, a waitress. My sister, Heather, who had let herself in the back door, deposited a gigantic box on the coffee table. Heather had curled her hair into a mass of Shirley Temple ringlets. As usual, Heather was vibrating with such energy that she made the rest of us look like slugs. The mother of a one-year-old and a five-year-old, Heather always looked as if she’d just emerged from fourteen hours of sleep followed by a trip to a spa.
“Give me a hug, Sis.” Heather wrapped me in her arms and held me tight. “So I hear that young Emilio caught your eye. Any chance you’re finally done with Josh?”
I pushed her away and glared at her. “Don’t start,” I warned her.
“Don’t get all pissy. I’m just asking.”
Unlike my parents, Heather was anything but a fan of Josh’s. Her idea of the perfect man for me was a money-maker who had gone to a four-year college and who worked a traditional job with regular hours.
“Well, stop asking,” I snarled. “And today is about Adrianna, anyway, not about me. Or Josh. So we are not getting into it now.”
She smiled sneakily. “But Emilio is hot, isn’t he?”
I couldn’t help grinning back. “Well, duh!”
I didn’t notice Nelson until he quickly turned his camera away. The exchange with Heather was a segment that would have to be edited out of the final video. I hoped, of course, that there would be few such segments. But at least the video would show that a satisfying number of people had attended the shower. Desperate for guests, I’d expanded the list by including a couple of my fellow students from social work school, Julie and Gretchen, who must have been bewildered about why they had been invited to a shower for someone they didn’t know, but who showed up nonetheless.
The guests helped themselves to plates of food from the dining room. My parents had sprung for champagne, which was poured, served, and sipped by most of the guests. Adrianna avoided it, of course, as did I, but Owen’s grandmother, Nana Sally, compensated for our abstemiousness by quickly drinking her first glass, refilling it, downing that one, and then getting yet another refill. “Mother, go easy!” I heard Eileen whisper.
Kitty sat down next to Eileen on the living room couch and nibbled on a shortbread cookie. I sighed, hoping that they’d manage to converse without bashing the wedding. In particular, I hoped that Eileen would refrain from voicing her belief that Adrianna had tricked Owen into marrying her by getting pregnant. Nelson and Robin stood a few yards from the couch with the camera focused on the two women. If my fears were realized, here was another segment that would have to be edited out. Alternatively, maybe Robin could replace the audio throughout the tape with music, thus obliterating forecasts of marital doom.
“Chloe?” Adrianna handed me a cup of tea. “Who are those girls over there?”
“Oh. Um, well . . .” I faltered. “That’s Gretchen and Julie. You remember them, don’t you?” Raising my cup of tea and taking a sip, I tried to act as casual as possible. In other words, I tried to avoid having Ade realize that she had never even seen either of them before. “They were so happy to hear about your wedding and the baby that I just had to invite them.”
“Uh-huh.” Ade looked at me doubtfully.
“Come on! Let’s open presents.”
I signaled to my mother, who joyously clapped her hands and addressed the entire group. “Everyone? Let’s all gather over here while our guest of honor opens her gifts.”
The older women sat on the couches, while most of the younger women seated themselves on the floor around the coffee table. I reserved a big, soft, upholstered chair for Adrianna.
“I’m never going to get out of this seat,” Ade said as she sank into the deep pillows.
“Open this one first,” I ordered, handing her my present.
Adrianna unwrapped my gift and looked totally boggled.
“It’s a BabyBjörn,” I had to explain. “You strap the baby to your body and voilà! Hands-free! Like a backpack for your front. I got the leather one so you’d be the most fashionable mommy out there.”
“This is so cool!” Ade beamed happily. “I really think I’m going to like this. I’m still learning about all this baby stuff. I’ve never even heard of this.”
Next she opened a box packed full of small baby items, gifts from my sister, Heather, who said, “I know these might not look exciting, but they’re all things you’ll use. See? Teethers, rattles, baby blankets, bottle brushes, one-sies, wipes. Seems boring, but they’ll be useful.” My niece, Lucy, was one, and my nephew, Walker, was five. Heather prided herself on having nearly every conceivable baby and child gadget ever invented.
“Wow, Heather. This is amazing.” Ade rooted through the gift box, her eyes wide with interest at all these never-before-seen infant supplies. “This is so thoughtful of you. Thank you
.”
Adrianna had never been one to fawn over babies—worse, she’d actually seemed to dislike children—and her surprise pregnancy had thrown her for a good loop. Early on, I’d given her some books about pregnancy and about baby care, but I was far from sure that she’d read them. Owen was the one who’d hurled himself into stocking up on kid paraphernalia. Only as Ade opened the baby presents with little apparent recognition of everyday baby items did I understand how hard it was for her to come to terms with the prospect of motherhood. The gifts were, I thought, giving her the boost that she needed to get through to the end of her pregnancy; the fun stuff was a better choice than my books had been. Remarkably, Adrianna even looked interested in Naomi’s aromatherapy oils and in the big inflatable ball that Ade was supposed to sit on during major contraction time. Cousin Phoebe and Nana Sally jointly gave Ade a Baby Jogger stroller that looked as if it could be propelled over rock-strewn mountains without jostling the child, and Gretchen and Julie from my school were generous enough to give a stranger three adorable unisex baby outfits. Shy Isabelle and Blythe the waitress had put together a collection of board books for babies that would endure hours of the kid gumming and chewing the hard pages.
I handed Ade the gift from Owen’s mother. Unwrapped, the package turned out to contain a voluminous white cotton nightgown with a high ruffled neck. Staring at this chaste garment, I realized that it should have had a prominent monogram that read Not Adrianna. Ade shot me a look out of the corner of her eye, and I refrained from laughing out loud.
“This is lovely, Eileen. Thank you.” Ade spoke politely.
“Isn’t it?” Eileen said cooly. “You can think of me every time you wear it.”
“Yeah, every time I return to the convent,” Ade muttered in my ear as she noisily scrunched up the wrapping paper.
Adrianna had seen what I’d missed: the nightgown was suitable for a nun and must have been chosen to keep Owen as far away from Adrianna as possible. Dream on, Eileen! Adrianna could wear a chicken costume, and Owen would still find her the sexiest woman in the world.
“I’m sure it will be beautiful on you when you lose all the weight you’ve put on, dear,” added Kitty, passive-aggressive as ever.
I hurriedly put Kitty’s gift in front of Adrianna. “Now, your mother’s present.”
When Adrianna had removed the wrapping paper, I could hardly believe my eyes. Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe what I was seeing. To Adrianna, to her own daughter at this wedding and baby shower, Kitty had presented a cheap-looking basket that held a small assortment of cheese balls and dried sausages. Bad? Bad enough if the basket had been new, but the terrible gift had already been opened: one of the sausages was obviously missing.
“Thank you, Mom,” Ade croaked.
My heart broke for her. Of all the stupid, meaningless, idiotic gifts to give to a daughter on any occasion! But now? Oh, I was furious. Goddamn it. Kitty soared to the top of my official shit list. So what if Adrianna was pregnant before her wedding? Couldn’t her own mother have the decency to fake understanding? Kindness, generosity . . . and even love? Evidently not!
Robin reached out to push Nelson’s camera down. Amazingly, for all the cameraman’s greed for his notion of reality, he actually looked sympathetic.
Adrianna’s eyes were glistening. Before she had time to shed tears, I put the presents from my mother in front of her. One was in a big box on the coffee table, the other in a long, wide package too bulky to lift off the floor. I knew what Mom was giving Ade and saw the lavish gifts not just as expressions of celebration but as tokens of the maternal devotion that Ade’s own mother withheld. Adrianna opened the Cuisinart food processor and then a fancy high chair with an adjustable seat, a dishwasher-safe tray, and all sorts of decorative doodads, baubles, and bells.
Kitty leaned over for a better view of my mother’s gifts. “My, how extravagant.”
Adrianna pulled herself up from the chair and gave my mother an enormous hug. Ade was not one to get sappy or weepy, but I saw her wipe her eyes.
Naomi’s voice rang through the room as she happily leaped off her seat. “Hasn’t this just been a touching display of female bonding? Really, the power of a group of women coming together to celebrate the impending arrival of another life!” She placed her hands on her chest. “My heart is overwhelmed with the love in this room.”
I smiled at Naomi, who was totally oblivious to the family drama that had just transpired. Although this couldn’t be the first baby or wedding shower that my supervisor had ever attended, I suspected that it was rare for her to find herself in a gathering of women not associated with some sort of political movement.
Nelson was standing five or six yards from Naomi with his camera fixed on her. He briefly peered around the camera to gaze at her with such clear interest that I spotted an opportunity, pounced on it, and pushed him in her direction. As far as I knew, Naomi was still involved with her boyfriend, Eliot, who owned a gallery on Newbury Street right near Simmer. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have Naomi see that other men noticed her.
“Why don’t you go interview Naomi?” I suggested to Nelson. “I’ll bet she’d give you some really good material to include in the video.”
Nelson responded immediately. He practically skipped across the room to position himself smack next to a surprised Naomi.
I cleaned up wrapping paper, moved gifts into one area of the living room, and then helped my mother to replenish the supply of coffee and pastries. When I returned to the living room and took a seat, Nana Sally was narrating a tale about Owen’s brothers, Evan and Willie. From the look on Cousin Phoebe’s face, I gathered that this sort of recitation was a family ritual.
“Hee hee!” Nana Sally shrieked. “And remember when those two set up that skateboard ramp for Owen?” She had a fit of laughter. “Owen was fifteen, but he still could barely stand on the skateboard without falling off. Love him! But athletic he is not. Well, Evan and Willie built a ramp and told him it would be easy as pie for him. They got poor Owen standing on the skateboard at the top of a hill, and then the pair of them sent him flying down onto this ramp contraption that they’d thrown together out of old plywood. I don’t know how Owen managed to get all the way to the ramp without falling off, but he did. As soon as he hit the top of the ramp, he fell crashing down!” Nana Sally again squealed with laughter. Covering her eyes with a napkin, she finished the story by saying, “Those damn kids had rigged the ramp to crumble when Owen hit it!”
Eileen crossed her arms and frowned. “It wasn’t funny, Nana. Owen still has a scar on his forehead from that incident. Four stitches, he needed!”
Ade perked up her head. “Owen told me he got that scar from a fistfight he had in ninth grade.”
Phoebe took a turn at storytelling. “Then there was the time those two rascals balanced a bucket on top of the door so it would fall on their dad’s head,” she said. “Remember that?”
I chimed in. “That doesn’t sound so bad. It’s an old trick. Did they fill the bucket with water or something?”
“No!” Nana giggled. “Rocks!” She exploded into uproarious laughter.
Rocks? The prank didn’t strike me as the least bit funny. In fact, both of the supposedly hilarious practical jokes sounded cruel and dangerous. Nana Sally’s and Phoebe’s stories, far from convincing me that Willie and Evan were harmless pranksters, fueled my theory that Owen’s brothers could have perpetrated a horrible joke that had turned deadly last Monday. I hated to have Adrianna’s shower end on such an ugly note.
By the time Owen arrived to pick up Adrianna and Kitty, Ade looked exhausted. Owen loaded the gifts into the car and did his best to be polite to Kitty, who issued nonstop criticism disguised as advice.
“Owen, I don’t understand why you’re putting the bags in the car first,” she said. “You ought to start with that overpriced high chair.” Kitty shook her head as she spoke. It seemed to me that she might as well have come right out and voiced the opinion that her
daughter had chosen to procreate with an idiot.
“Thank you for that very sage advice, Kitty. I’ll reload the car in the proper manner.” Owen winked at me and picked up the last of the gifts.
“I can’t thank you enough for all for all of this, Chloe.” Adrianna engulfed me in a hug. I rubbed her back with my hands as I squeezed her.
“I’m so sorry about your mom, Ade,” I whispered. “I don’t know what in the world is going on with her.”
“What’s going on with her is that she is a bitch.” She pulled back from me. “It’s just the way it is. She’s done nothing but complain since she got here. The hotel is crappy, she hated the restaurant we went to last night, and she is one hundred percent put out that she has to stay in town for the week until the wedding. Believe me, I’m put out by it, too. And the kicker? My due date is a major pain in her ass. She has herself in knots because the birth might interfere with a work conference she has in Chicago. I informed her that no one invited her to the delivery room anyhow, and after that, we had a particularly obnoxious exchange. What are you going to do, right?” Adrianna waved her hand in the air. “I’m going to go home and inhale some of those aromatherapy oils Naomi gave me. Maybe they’ll actually work.”
Fed Up Page 13