The Smart One (44 page)

“Why don’t you take it easy?” she said one day.

“I’m fine,” Sharon said. “I’m not going to get better just sitting around.”

“No, but if you make yourself fall again, it’s going to take you a much longer time to get better.”

Sharon didn’t answer her, but she did slow down a little bit. She had a fight to her, which was good. But it also made it seem like she was annoyed all the time, and that got tiresome. Mr. Cranston had been frustrated, sure, but that was different. He was looking back at his life, mourning the fact that he was almost done. Sharon was fighting like
hell to get back to the way she’d been. And you had to admire her for that. Still, it didn’t make her an easy patient. Not at all.

Sharon’s children took turns coming over at night, to bring her dinner and get her settled. They always looked frazzled and tired, and kind of put out to be there, which bothered Martha. If Weezy was in this situation, Martha would be happy to help out. Although maybe Sharon was a harder mother to take care of than Weezy would be. She could see that.

Her oldest daughter, Megan, was a nurse and often came by in her pink scrubs. “You should change,” Sharon said to her one night. “There’s probably germs all over those things.”

Megan rolled her eyes, and Martha knew she was annoyed, but really, it was true. Her scrubs were probably festering with disease. The next day, she told Sharon that she used to be a nurse, that she was planning to go back to it.

“Really? What’s stopping you?”

“I’m just figuring things out,” Martha said.

“I could never have been a nurse,” Sharon told her. “I don’t like seeing people sick and lying around in beds. Blood is not for me. Vomit even less. When the kids had the stomach flu, it was their dad that dealt with them.”

“It doesn’t bother me so much.”

“That’s like Megan. She never had to turn away from those things.”

“That’s a sign of a good nurse.”

“Well, I can’t say I understand your choice, but I have to say it seems better than this gig. You should figure it out soon, you know. Or you’ll be stuck wiping the asses of old people like me for the rest of your life.”

Martha didn’t say anything. She could see why Sharon’s children weren’t tripping over themselves to come here and help her. Yes, she could certainly see why.

THAT NIGHT, MARTHA HAD TROUBLE
falling asleep. She was annoyed at Sharon, at how harsh she’d sounded when she told her she should go back to being a nurse. What did she know? She had no idea what
Martha had been through the past year. Good lord. Some people were so quick to judge.

Although, if she had to be honest, she was a little bothered with herself for not doing anything about it the whole time she worked at the Cranstons’. Not one thing. She had so much more free time there! She could have figured out what needed to be done, could have gotten started on it. It was always so quiet and peaceful at the house. Even when Ruby was making a scene or Mr. Cranston was crabby, it was nothing like being with Sharon. Martha hoped her hip healed soon.

She told herself that she deserved a break. Time had gotten away from her, but that happened. And she’d just bought a new condo, for goodness’ sake. That was a big change, a life change, and anyone would need to take a breath after that, to take some time and regroup. She was okay.
One step at a time
, she thought. That was also the motto for alcoholics, wasn’t it? No, that was one day at a time. Well, that made sense too. She still had to adjust to her new place, decorate it, and get settled. She could only do so much at once or she’d drive herself crazy.
One thing at a time
, she told herself. There was always time for the rest of it later. Yes, there was always time.

CHAPTER
22

Cleo wanted a natural birth. And no one could talk her out of it.

“Take the drugs,” her mother had said. “Oh, sweetie, believe me, you’ll want the drugs.”

Weezy told her to keep an open mind. “Sometimes you don’t know what you want until you’re there. Sometimes you don’t have a choice. You might even need a C-section.”

Even Lainie told her that she should be flexible. “It’s good to have a plan,” she said. “I didn’t really know what I wanted, but then when it started with Jack, I was sure that I wanted an epidural.”

“What about the rest of them?” Cleo asked.

“Well, with Tucker, he came so fast that we didn’t even have a chance. I started labor and then it’s like he slipped right out as soon as we got to the hospital. And with Matthew, it took a while and I got the epidural right away. Just be ready to do whatever you want in the moment, okay?”

Cleo agreed, but she knew deep down that she was going to stick to her plan. She’d found a doula to be with her when she went into labor. The plan was to labor at home for as long as possible before going to the hospital.

“Think of the hospital as a drive-thru birthing center,” the doula said.

Cleo liked that idea. She didn’t want to be in the hospital for any longer than she had to be. “Hospitals make me nervous with all the germs and infections,” she explained. Max pointed out that the doctors were there too, and that was a plus, but he said it was up to Cleo.

It was nice of Lainie to offer advice, but Cleo wished she’d never
said,
He slipped right out
. It made it sound like the baby came down a greased slide, made her want to cross her legs, as if that would keep the baby inside her. Sometimes when she lay down at night, she would hear the phrase
He slipped right out
, and she knew she was going to be awake for a while.

It didn’t matter what anyone said anyway. She wanted a natural birth and she wanted a doula and that was that. Cleo explained this to Weezy and her mother while they were sitting around having tea after the shower, and talking about her like she wasn’t even there.

“I don’t know where she got these ideas,” Elizabeth said. “Certainly not from me. She wasn’t raised in a hippie house.” And Elizabeth and Weezy laughed together, like they were friends now, like they were ganging up against her.

“It’s better for the baby,” Cleo said.

“Next thing you know, she’ll tell us about plans to bury the placenta or, worse, eat it!” The two women really got a kick out of that one, and Cleo pressed her lips together to keep from saying anything else. It was like when she told them that she wasn’t going to find out the sex of the baby because she wanted to be surprised. Elizabeth had snorted and said, “Because getting pregnant in college wasn’t a big enough surprise for you?”

She relayed the whole scene to Max later that night. She was propped up against the headboard, with two pillows behind her back, and she was somehow still uncomfortable.

“They think they know so much more than me,” she said.

“Well, they did both have babies.” Max took her hand and tried to hold it with both of his, but she pulled it away and got out of the bed. She grabbed her pillow and held it in one arm.

“That’s not the point,” she said. “Didn’t you hear what I said? They were mocking me, like I’m so stupid. Like I don’t matter at all.” She stood there for a moment, thinking that she’d go sleep somewhere else, that she’d show Max. Then she realized there was nowhere to go. What was she going to do? Sleep on the couch in the TV room and be lying there with her giant stomach when the whole family came downstairs in the morning? She sat back down on the edge of the bed.

“I just want you to be on my side,” she said.

“I’m on your side,” Max said. He sat up and rubbed her shoulders too hard, so that it almost hurt, but Cleo didn’t say anything because she knew he was trying to help. “I’m always on your side.”

Cleo never told anyone where she got the idea for the doula. She let them think it was in some article she’d read in a baby magazine, or in one of the how-to books, when really she’d read about it on some celebrity’s blog and it had convinced her.

When she couldn’t sleep, she searched the Internet for any article or website that would make her feel better about what was going to happen. One night Max woke up and rolled over to find her looking at birthing pictures.

“What the hell?” he said. “That looks like murder.”

“I know,” she said. The computer glowed in the room and the two of them looked at the pictures in silence.

WHEN HER DUE DATE WAS
one month away, Cleo honestly didn’t know how she was supposed to make it any longer. “I’m too big,” she said. “I’m huge. I can barely walk and I think the baby is stuck in my ribs.”

“You’re not huge,” Max said. But Cleo knew he was lying. He’d walked into the room the other day while she was changing, and when she turned, so that her bare stomach was facing him, he’d said, “Whoa,” before he could stop himself.

“I just don’t think there’s anywhere else for this baby to go,” Cleo said. She sat back so that she was on an angle. “It feels like it’s in my chest. It’s probably hitting my heart.”

“I don’t think that can happen,” Max said. “Plus, the doctor said all of what you were feeling was normal, remember?”

“Yeah. But maybe he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Maybe the baby is ready to come now. Maybe it will be early.”

“Maybe,” Max said.

But she wasn’t early. She kept waiting, each morning, to wake up and be in labor. She knew that the baby was ready to come out, could feel it inside of her, and sometimes could see its elbow or foot pushing at her stomach, like it was trying to get out.

“I know,” she’d whisper, when this happened. She’d touch the little bump that the baby’s hand made, and rub it. “I know you’re ready.”

TWO DAYS BEFORE HER DUE DATE,
Cleo went into labor. She walked upstairs to find all of the Coffeys sitting around the table having breakfast together, which was weird, because they never did that. “I’m in labor,” she said. All of them looked at her and Will took another bite of his toast. “I said, I’m in labor.”

“Are you sure?” Max asked. He got up and walked over to her, touched her stomach like that was going to help him figure out if she was telling the truth.

“Yes, I’m sure. I feel cramping, like a contraction. I’ve had a few of them.”

“Why don’t you sit down and have some breakfast?” Weezy said. “It may be false labor or maybe you’re just hungry. And if you are in labor, it will probably be a while.”

“I’m not hungry,” Cleo said. “I’m in labor, I know it.” She turned to Max. “I want to go to the hospital.”

“I thought you wanted to wait,” Max said. He was shifting his weight from one leg to the other, like a little kid, and Cleo reached out and held him still.

“I did, but I don’t want to anymore. I just want to get there.” Cleo’s heart was pounding and her breath was uneven.

Weezy stood up, took Cleo by the arm, and led her to the couch in the TV room. “Okay, let’s do this. You sit for a few minutes and we’ll start timing the contractions, okay? Max, go get the stopwatch.” Max ran out of the room and up the stairs. He looked grateful to have an order.

“Okay,” Cleo said. “But not too long. I want to be in the hospital. I don’t want to have the baby here.” Her eyes filled with tears and Weezy patted her shoulder, which was the last thing she wanted. She didn’t want to be here with these people, didn’t want to be in this place.

“We’re not going to let that happen,” Weezy said. “I promise. We’ll just sit for a few minutes, let you rest, and we’ll get all your stuff together and get ready to go. Okay?”

Max came running back into the room, breathing hard. “I got it,” he said. He held up the watch and Weezy stood and pointed to her seat.

“Great. You sit here and start timing. Remember what the book said and what they told you in class, okay?” Weezy was talking to them like they were schoolchildren, like she was instructing them how to tie their shoes. If she’d been able to catch her breath, Cleo might have said something.

“Can I get you anything?” Weezy asked. “Water?”

“Maybe water,” Cleo said. “Also, could you call my mom? Could you tell her to come here now? Or to go to the hospital?”

Weezy nodded. “I’ll do it right now.”

Cleo heard Weezy on the phone with Elizabeth. “She thinks she’s in labor,” she was saying. Cleo wanted to run over there, grab the phone, and yell, “I
am
in labor,” just to set the record straight, but she stayed put.

Weezy called the doula too, informed her that Cleo wanted to head right to the hospital, and then she was quiet and then said, “Mmm-hmm, yes,” over and over again. When she hung up the phone, Weezy told Cleo that the doula was coming to the house. “She’s very opinionated, isn’t she?” Weezy asked.

NO ONE AT THE HOSPITAL
seemed to be alarmed that Cleo was in labor. After waiting at the house for a few hours, with everyone watching her and the doula trying to get her to lie in different positions, Cleo announced that she was really ready to go. She expected the hospital staff to at least react, but they seemed almost bored with her. A nurse told her that they’d have the doctor come in to see how far along she was. “He might send you home,” she said. Cleo thought it sounded like a threat.