When You Least Expect It (21 page)

“I understand,” I said, although I didn’t really. But I also didn’t want to fight anymore.

“Good.” India smiled. She tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Do you want to join us for some ice cream?”

I glanced at the computer, where the FutureRaceFanatics board was still up. I had been thinking I’d refresh the board a few more times and see how the havoc Lainey had wrought played out. But ice cream sounded good, too.

“Sure,” I said. “Why not?”

I had what I thought was a brilliant idea—I offered Lainey a job.

Now that she was halfway through her second trimester and her marathon bouts of nausea had finally subsided, Lainey’s energy rebounded. Her hair was shiny, her skin was clear, and her stomach had popped out, so perfectly round it looked like she’d stuck a beach ball up under her shirt. I tried very hard not to stare at it. For the past few years, just the sight of a pregnant woman had felt like a razor blade slicing up my soul. But now, seeing
this
pregnant stomach, carrying
my
baby, brought an unexpected peace.

And so, noticing that Lainey was clearly feeling better and starting to get bored, I asked her if she’d be interested in working at the studio.

“Really? Me?” she asked, looking surprised when I brought it up one night after dinner. She and I were sitting in the living room, curled up on either end of the slip-covered sofa, watching TV. Jeremy was, as usual, locked away in his office, supposedly working, but more likely wasting time on the Internet. Every time I passed by, I saw that he had a browser open and was typing away on some sort of chat board. I wondered briefly if this was something I should be concerned about, but then put it firmly out of my mind. I had enough to worry about without adding to the pile.

“Yes, you,” I said, smiling at her surprise. Sometimes Lainey seemed like such a kid—thrilled with a treat, happy at being included. Then, other times, I occasionally caught a chilling glimpse of the hardness Mimi had warned me about. I still couldn’t tell if Lainey even liked me, although she did seem more relaxed around me than when she first moved in.

“But I don’t know anything about photography.”

“You don’t have to. You’d be more of an assistant, really. You could help out on the shoots, help me with the kids. You were great with Rose when she was here visiting. That’s what gave me the idea,” I said.

Lainey had spent hours with Rose, first playing along with one of Rose’s complicated make-believe games—it didn’t matter what the story line was, the games all consisted of Rose telling you what to do and say—and then retiring to the living room to watch
Mary Poppins
together.

Lainey hesitated. “I don’t know.”

I tucked my feet up beneath me. “It was just an idea. If you’re not interested, it’s not a big deal.”

“Well, okay. I guess I could try.”

“Really?”

“Sure, why not?” Another of her trademark shrugs. By now, I could predict the shrug’s arrival with such accuracy, I could have shrugged in perfect unison with her.

“Great,” I said. “I’ll be glad to have the help.”

“I’m getting bored sitting around all the time with nothing to do,” Lainey said.

“What did you used to do with your free time?” I asked.

“I worked,” she said. “And I went to the gym a lot. Almost every day.”

“We could ask Dr. Jones if you can start exercising now that you feel better,” I suggested, although I immediately regretted it. Signing Lainey up for a gym membership—and thereby taking
on yet another Lainey-related expense—would almost certainly annoy Jeremy. Especially considering Jeremy and I had had to drop our health club membership when the expenses related to the fertility treatments began piling up.

“I guess. I don’t belong to that gym anymore. I’d have to find a new one.”

“Why? Is it too far away?”

“No, but Trav—my ex—works out there,” Lainey explained.

It was the first time Lainey had ever mentioned her ex-boyfriend to me. Part of me wanted to hear more about him, as our baby would inherit half of his genes. Was he smart, handsome, talented? Did he have an ear for music, or a natural affinity for languages, or the ability to throw a curveball? But at the same time, hearing his name for the first time filled me with dread. What if Lainey had started missing Trav? What if they reconciled and decided to keep the baby?

“Have you heard from Trav since you moved out?” I asked carefully.

Lainey snorted. “God, no. He tried to call me when I was staying at Flaca’s, but that was just because he wanted his iPod back.”

“Why? Did it get mixed up with your things when you were packing?” I asked.

Lainey looked at me with an almost pitying expression. “No. I took it to piss him off.”

“Oh,” I said, taken aback. “Did you ever give it back to him?”

“No way! Look, he knocked me up and then kicked me out. I deserved that iPod. Men are all assholes, anyway.”

“Not all men,” I said gently.

“Right,” Lainey scoffed.

“No, really. I know it seems like they’re all jerks when you’re twenty, but some of them improve with age.”

Like Jeremy
, I thought, softening toward him. I realized just how much I’d been missing him. Everything had changed so
much lately, and as a result, he and I hadn’t been spending much time alone together. With the weddings I’d taken on, I was working a lot more, and Lainey had gotten in the habit of joining us for dinner every night.

What we need is a weekend away together
, I thought.
A chance to be alone so we can reconnect
.

“My mom has had a lot of boyfriends, all of them a lot older than twenty. And they’re all dicks, too,” Lainey said.

“Okay, so maybe not every guy will improve. But a lot do,” I said. Then, suddenly worried that she might take this as advice that she should reconcile with Trav on the off chance that he might not be such a bastard by the time he hit thirty, I hurriedly added, “But that doesn’t mean you should put up with being treated badly, of course.”

“So, what? I should date only older guys?”

“Maybe,” I said. “Why, is there someone you’re interested in now?”

“It’s not like they’re beating down my door. Not when I look like this,” Lainey said, looking down at her swollen abdomen with disgust.

“I think you look beautiful,” I said sincerely. It was true. Lainey had been a pretty girl before, but pregnancy had softened her. Her face was filling out along with her body, easing the sharp angles.

“You’re crazy,” Lainey said, although she gave a small smile. “Was Jeremy a jerk when he was twenty?”

“I didn’t know him when he was twenty,” I said.

“How old were you when you met?”

I tried to remember. “I think I was twenty-seven, so that would have made Jeremy twenty-eight.”

“So you were old,” Lainey said so bluntly I had to laugh.

“It doesn’t seem like it now,” I said. The person I had been at twenty-seven was like a stranger to me now. She had ambitions of becoming a world-famous portrait photographer, the sort whose
work was prominently featured in magazines like
Vanity Fair
. She wasn’t thinking of marriage, and certainly not of children. In fact, she’d have been shocked to learn just how baby obsessed she would become, I thought suddenly.

Or to know just how far Jeremy and she could drift apart.

“Hey,” Jeremy said.

I was lying in bed, reading. Otis was up on the bed, too, his head hooked over my foot. I looked up, surprised by Jeremy’s voice. I hadn’t heard him come into the bedroom. Lately, he usually didn’t come upstairs until after I’d gone to sleep.

“How did Lainey’s first day of work go?” Jeremy asked.

“Fine,” I said. And it had gone surprisingly well. Lainey had answered the phone, arranged a few appointments, and then assisted while I did a studio portrait of a five-year-old little boy and his toddler sister. Lainey stood behind me with a puppet of Count von Count from
Sesame Street
and did a surprisingly good imitation of the Muppet’s voice: “One, two,
two
little children, ha-ha-ha!” The children were transfixed, and I took several excellent photographs of them beaming up at the camera.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” I said. “Two somethings, actually.”

“What’s that?”

“The first is that we haven’t discussed baby names yet.”

“That’s true. Do you have any ideas?”

“What do you think about Lily?”

“For a girl or a boy?” Jeremy asked.

“Ha-ha. I was thinking of Liam for a boy,” I said.

“Lily and Liam.” Jeremy nodded. “Those are both good names.”

“Don’t you want to throw out a few ideas?” I asked. “That’s how this normally works. I suggest the name Agatha, and you say there’s not a chance in hell that we’re going to name our
daughter Agatha, and suggest Maude instead. And then we go back and forth.”

“I would never suggest the name Maude,” Jeremy said. “And I like the name Lily. It’s pretty.”

“Yes, it is. But there are other names. I like Madeline, too. And Sophia. And for boy names, I also like John and Christian. Unless you want to name him after you. Jeremy Junior.”

“No, no juniors. Every junior I knew growing up was an asshole. Even worse were the number guys—Hugo the Third, Boris the Fourth.”

“You grew up with a Boris?”

“No,” Jeremy admitted. “It was just an example.”

“Do you have any other ideas?”

“How about Boris?”

“No,” I said. “But that’s how it works. One of us pitches a name, and we both have veto power.”

“Can I think about it?” Jeremy said.

I was disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm, but I nodded. “Sure, make a list. Anyway, the other thing I wanted to talk to you about is, I was thinking maybe we could go away for a weekend. Just the two of us. Now that Lainey’s working for me, she can cover for me at the studio. I mean, she can’t do photo sessions, obviously, but she can cover the phones and handle any customers that stop by. And I have a wedding-free weekend coming up at the end of the month. We wouldn’t have to go anywhere expensive,” I added quickly. “Maybe we could just drive down to the Keys for a few days. I found some good deals on hotels online.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Jeremy said. He sat on the edge of the bed, nudging Otis over. Otis groaned, but moved grudgingly.

“We’ll go for walks on the beach and eat crab sandwiches.”

Jeremy’s eyes softened. “That sounds amazing. Do you think Lainey can handle the studio by herself?”

“She was great today.”

“I never asked. How much did you agree to pay her?”

I hesitated. “Fifteen dollars an hour,” I admitted.

To my surprise, Jeremy didn’t seem outraged by this, even though it was more than I’d ever paid any other part-time employee I’d had over the past few years. In fact, he looked rather pleased about it.

“You don’t mind?” I asked.

“Why would I? I can finally work without Lainey coming in and out of the house forty times a day, banging the kitchen cupboards and playing the television at full volume, and you’ve figured out a way to offset a portion of the money we’re giving her. Even if it’s just in the form of a tax deduction, every penny helps,” Jeremy said cheerfully.

“I thought the adoption expenses were already tax deductible?”

“Partially, but the amount you can deduct is capped,” Jeremy said. He looked thoughtful. “Maybe you should give her a raise. Pay her, like, thirty dollars an hour, so we can get an even larger tax break.”

“Is that really a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? It’s money we’d be giving her anyway, right?” Jeremy said cheerfully as he stood and began to change into his pajamas.

“I guess that depends on what you mean by ‘giving her anyway,’” I said carefully.

Jeremy, who’d been pulling his T-shirt off, froze. “Please tell me that you’re not paying her above and beyond what we were already giving her. Please tell me you’re not paying her salary replacement
and
a salary.”

I held my book up higher, effectively covering my face from his sight.

“India!”

“What?”

“Don’t pretend that you can’t hear me when I’m talking to you,” Jeremy snapped.

I put the book down. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were pressed together in a tight, white-edged line.

“I can hear you,” I said carefully. “But can we talk about this calmly?”

Jeremy took a deep breath in, exhaled, and then, speaking in a deliberately calmer voice, he asked, “Are you paying Lainey money above and beyond the allowance we already agreed to pay her?”

I swallowed. “Yes,” I admitted.

Jeremy closed his eyes and ran both hands through his hair. Then he turned abruptly away and continued the process of putting on his pajamas. He walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, and I could hear the muffled sounds of tooth-brushing and gargling. Five minutes later, he returned, although still not looking at me.

When I couldn’t bear the silence any longer, I said, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What would you like me to say?” Jeremy asked coldly as he tossed his dirty clothes into the hamper.

“You’re obviously angry at me. We should talk about it.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what mature married people do when there’s a problem.”

“You don’t talk to me,” Jeremy said. He climbed into bed and yanked the covers up to his waist.

“Of course I talk to you.”

Jeremy snorted. “Right. Like the way you talked to me before you agreed to give Lainey even more money on top of what we can’t afford to be paying her now?”

I hesitated. “Okay. Maybe I should have discussed that with you first. But I told you, it’s important that we keep Lainey happy.”

“Yes, you have told me that,” Jeremy said. He picked up a book and turned away, curling onto his side with his back facing me.

I stared at his stiff, angry form, turned away from me. “I thought we both wanted this. I thought we agreed we wanted to go forward with an adoption. Covering the birth mother’s expenses is part of what’s required.”

“It’s not the money. Well, it’s not just the money,” Jeremy said.