... and Baby Makes Two (29 page)

“Don't you have more closet space than this?” he called from the bedroom.

“Really?” Jane needed to sit down. Peter was moving in? Did she just make that happen? She floated into a chair and noticed that the tight feeling behind her eyes was gone.

She missed his packing and moving plans while she tried to figure out how many more drawers she could empty for him. It's a good thing he had no plates or furniture. She had no room for those.

But she had room for Peter. Now the cloud of what's-happening-between-us lifted. This was a commitment, wasn't it? This was together. This was
Us.

…

Since babies need so much crap, it is important to have people throw parties for you. Let people give you presents whenever you can. Jane had forgotten that. It was her first baby after all. Karen feared that a baby shower would be bad luck. Don't buy a gift for the
child until she's home. She told her family to give her a welcome home party/shower. Jane's coworkers threw her a small shower at work.

The party fell on her birthday. She had loomed into thirty-eight and had barely noticed it coming. She felt like a kid. She felt like a geriatric. She wondered what her mother would say.

Her coworkers told her repeatedly how brave she was. Nothing scared her more than being told that she was brave. She didn't feel brave, and if she was doing something that required bravery, then she should really be scared. She nodded and smiled a lot.

Teresa didn't want to cope with party preparations so close to Travel Time. She hired a party planner to throw an elegant shower in the Puck Building. Jane and Karen arrived at the party and stuck together. Clearly, their silly little gifts were too silly and too little next to the various Tiffany boxes in the room.

“Teresa really has money, doesn't she?” Karen said.

Oh, yes. Teresa really had money. And so did her friends. The party was swelegantelegant, and Jane recognized three cast members from
Law & Order.
Eventually they found Arlene, who was not intimidated by all the fame and wealth in the room.

“Have you two been reading the lists? No, of course not, how would you have time? Well, there's a big scandal going on. It's really awful.”

It was nice that she had become a talker.

“What happened?” asked Jane.

“Well. This couple get their referral and they stare at the picture a lot, and then they finally get to travel, but they get to China and they get the baby and it's not her.”

“What?”

“It wasn't her. It wasn't the same baby”

By now, Teresa had caught up with the Chinamoms and was locked in to this story.

“They both started freaking out and saying, ‘Look, this isn't the baby that was referred to us and blah-blah-blah' and getting really
upset. And at first, the orphanage director kept saying, ‘Yes, it is,' but then she said, ‘Okay, no, it isn't.' ”

“And?” Teresa needed to know.

“Well, it was a different baby all right. And they never found out for sure, but it sounds like their baby died.”

Jane clapped a hand to her mouth so that she could stop horrible sounds from emerging. Arlene had more to say.

“So they gave the baby back to the orphanage. The mother said that she wanted the baby that was referred to her, and no other baby would do. And they came home and had a funeral.”

“Not one word of that is true.” Teresa needed to believe.

“It's all over the listserv. You haven't been reading it, huh?”

Arlene didn't mean to devastate her friends, but that's what happens when you talk about dead babies at a baby shower. No one should ever do that.

Karen, Teresa, and Jane were united in their desire to escape that story. They promised one another that they'd never bring it up again.

“But I'll say one thing,” Karen said. “I am
not
coming home from China without a baby. If they pull a switch, I'll deal with it.”

They nodded a silent amen and put the story away forever.

It was a beautiful, warm Saturday when Jane and Ray went to collect the baby furniture that Kendra had promised her. But Jane forgot the part where she promised to retrieve a crib for Karen. The crib was the last one in stock at Baby-O-Rama, and they were holding it for Karen until Saturday night. That task never landed on her list, and so it fell out of her head.

Kendra's seven-year-old son had the same fine features that his mother had. When he answered the door, he turned and bellowed for his mother.

“The lady is here for the baby stuff!”

The baby stuff was in the basement. A crib, a bureau that turned into a changing table (bureau! Jane had forgotten about getting one of those), a diaper genie, a collection of blankets, a few toys, and a diaper bag.

“Do you want this stroller? This is a three-hundred-dollar stroller. It's the top of the line, really great. Scott rode in this thing until he was, what, five years old?”

“Mom!”

“Actually, I've got a stroller. Really lightweight. Wonderful.”

“You'll need a second one,” Kendra insisted.

Jane tried to lift the stroller and knew that she'd be leaving it behind.

“I live in a walk-up,” she explained. And Kendra looked at her as if she had just announced that she ate bugs.

Kendra's husband was clearly out of the picture, but Jane was shy about asking why. After lunch and her son's departure to his friend's swimming pool, Kendra volunteered the tale of her ex-husband's abuse.

“He never laid a finger on me. If he had, I wouldn't have had a child with him. No, he hit Scott. It was bad.” She stopped herself. She must have remembered the working relationship she would have to maintain with Jane. She didn't switch to Corporate Speak, but she did talk cheerfully about potty training.

They packed up Ray's car. It sagged under all that weight, but it rolled toward the city.

“Peter says he's not going to hire movers. He doesn't have enough stuff to justify it. The super's going to loan him a dolly or something next weekend. He'll just roll his stuff up the street. Remind me to have my camera ready”

Ray nodded and kept his eyes on the road as he said, “So, when you and Peter go to China—”

“Whoa. Correction: When all
three
of us go to China.”

“Oh, come on, Jane. How much longer can I play third wheel/fifth wheel/extra wheel?”

“Forever. You're coming to China.”

“I really don't think I should go. And besides, do you realize how tough my schedule is these days at the paper? What am I going to get—a week's notice to drop everything and go to China? I'll undo all the hard work I've done there.”

“You're coming to China.”

“We'll look strange. Mom, Dad, Baby and Gay Uncle.”

“You're coming to China.”

“I don't have enough frequent flyer miles to get all the way there.”

“You're coming to China.”

“Did you see my piece on the Beckett Festival? I thought of you.” “You're coming to China.”

“Do you like my spray-on tan? I never get outside, but now I look like I do.”

“You're coming to China.”

“Bitch.”

“You're coming to China.”

…

“Jane. I lost my crib, thanks to you. Now I have to pay almost twice as much
plus
delivery
plus
I don't get the one I wanted.”

“I'm sorry. I forgot. There was so much to do.”

Teresa should never have stepped in. She should have let Jane grovel until Karen ran out of steam.

“It's not Jane's fault. She's not your delivery service.”

“She promised.”

Jane was still groveling. “I did. And I'm sorry. I screwed up.”

“So buy another crib, get it delivered, and it's over. There are thousands of cribs, right here in New York City” Teresa liked tidy endings.

“You don't get it. I'm really scared here, and I needed that crib.
That
one. You let me down, Jane. You two have all this money, so you don't know what it's like to face motherhood on a really tight budget. It's scary as hell. I can't believe you did this to me.”

Jane stopped groveling. She didn't have all this money and she did know what it was like to face it all on a really tight budget. Her budget was a cinch-waist, size-four, tight-tight budget.

“Not as tight as mine,” Karen replied. “And you've got a husband. Hell, you've got two!”

“Money is not the point here.” Yes, Teresa had money, but she was still scared. Was Karen implying that she wasn't entitled to her fear because she had Calvin Klein crib sheets?

“Look. I forgot your crib. I forgot. And I really am sorry, but if you keep yelling at me, I'm gonna run out of sorry. Understand?”

Karen walked away first. She radiated heat as she stormed down the street.

Teresa wanted to form an alliance with Jane, but she went about it like this: “Just because I have money doesn't mean I'm not scared.”

Jane shook her head. She couldn't take care of anyone right now, least of all an adult. She mumbled a good-bye and left for home. Teresa went shopping.

That night, Jane kept Peter awake with her complaints. Poor tired Peter sided with her completely. Smart man.

…

Jane dreamed about rickety ladders that hooked together but led her nowhere. She was fighting to get out of the dream when the phone rang and woke her.

“Wake up, you lazy slug. You're a mother. You don't get to sleep in anymore. Besides, we have muffins.” It was Teresa.

“This sounds like girlfriend time,” said Peter. “Wake me when it's over.” This time it was Jane who was bouncing through the morning. She kissed Peter on the cheek and buzzed in her friends.

Teresa and Karen appeared at her door with a large basket of muffins, a bottle of champagne, and a carton of orange juice. What problem would stand up against all that? Jane invited them in. They promised not to be quite so stupid with one another again. They moaned about the stress, stress, stress of wondering when they would travel and managing to get enough time to do everything.

She showed off Beth's room-in-progress.

“I want to do a fancy-schmancy stencil on this wall, but I need a big chunk of time to do it. And I want to do a red border thingy.”

“Good luck,” said Karen. They were happy. They had stepped out of their manic preparations to be happy.

That's when the phone rang, and it was Barbara with their travel
dates. Really. The earth stopped spinning on its axis as Jane repeated all the information to the Chinamoms. The travel permission was completed, the consulate appointments obtained. They were set to travel in seventeen days.

“We've generally used Henry Wong's travel service in Chinatown. Call him, tell him these dates, and he'll take care of it all. Are you three going to fly together?”

Jane wanted it all to slow down, please. She wasn't ready, and it wasn't about lists or stencils or diapers. After all this time, motherhood was about to hit her like an avalanche.

Peter stepped into the living room and asked, “What did I miss?”

…

Saturday. Peter's move-in day. Jane could hardly wait to check this item off her Major Life Changes list. Soon, she'd be able to call Howard and say, “Hah! I'm officially not going to be a single mother. So there.” Ray was about eighty percent successful at hiding his fear and jealousy from Jane.

“Come to the theater this afternoon, darling. It'll be so much harder to get out after the baby comes home. And, hey, the shows won't be any better.”

Jane said yes. And she dressed up to see a matinee of
Death in Venice Beach.
Ray hated it too much to discuss it over a postshow martini.

“Besides, Burton says that liquor makes me surly. The jerk!”

So instead he came home with Jane for chamomile tea. Jane hoped that was enough incentive to climb all those stairs. She raced up the last flight as she heard her phone ringing.

“It's me.” It was Peter. “Can I come over? And can I bring everything I own?”

Jane looked at Ray panting up the last few stairs and decided that everyone would be too tired to fight. “Sure. Come on over.”

Within ten minutes, Peter and his possessions were barreling through Jane's front door.

“Here's my chair, and I've got two more boxes.” Peter took less than an hour to move into Jane's apartment. Minimalists are good that way. Jane watched Ray for a reaction, but he was revealing nothing.

Peter made three trips to Jane's apartment. He packed a massive suitcase, a small one, three boxes, and a chair. He used Jane's shopping cart.

Ray shook his head. “I carry more stuff for a weekend getaway”

Jane had to wonder how a grown man had so few possessions. But it didn't matter. His few possessions were here, and so was he. Done.

“I have to go back for my lamp and to turn in the keys. Then I'm all done.”

He kissed Jane and left once more.

Ray turned the suitcase over, then back. “You could pack a person in this thing.” He pressed his ear against the side of it. “Hey do you hear a … scratching sound?”

“Ha ha.” Jane put on the kettle.

…

Barbara arranged for the Chinamoms to have their long-awaited evening session with Dr. Valerie Martinez, better known as Dr. Val. She spoke at events, she published articles on the subject. And she held travel prep sessions in her apartment for those who were about to adopt.

All the travel companions came along for this evening. Ray was a superior note-taker, so Jane could relax about retaining all the information. Peter was the happiest Jane had ever seen him. He wanted to know all about the medical needs of babies. That was how he put it.

Karen's ex, Charles, and Teresa's friend, Beverly, cooed over the photos of the babies. Beverly was Teresa's clone. They had the same outfit, the same haircut, and the same speech patterns. It was eerie.

Earlier, Karen had expressed doubt about Charles as a travel
companion because he was such a “white-sugar, ambitious, corporate type.” And so, the tie-dyed, bearded, Birkenstocked fellow who introduced himself as Charles was a bit of a surprise to Jane.