When You Make It Home (25 page)

Theo’s mother was the one person I didn’t bother being strong around. She had that way with me. She continued to drop by every week with dishes from the church ladies, insisting the women wouldn’t have it any other way. Splitting the meals—packaged in smaller portions—between the fridge and freezer, her presence gave me a taste of an affectionate mom. She took over, ready to nurture.

“We’ll get you all stocked up,” she said, both of us ignoring the fact I couldn’t eat all that food by my lonesome. “When that baby gets here, you won’t need to cook.” She smiled sadly at me, her eyes glazed over, and she turned to fold the bag that held the meals.

“I don’t know how to not miss him,” I confessed. “But I’m so
mad
at him for giving up.”

Melinda sat across the kitchen table from me. She folded her hands neatly on the table and leaned in. “You know, when I got that call, that call informing me Theo was hurt, they didn’t have any details for me. I promised myself that as long as he was still Theo, we’d be okay. He’s always been a fighter, Meg. All I needed was for him to still be my Theo, and we could figure out the rest. I was terrified for him. I went to see him. I paced the hospital before the plane got there. They said he’d been sedated for the trip home… he might not remember… anything,” Melinda sighed. “I was told he might not remember me, but when he opened his eyes and saw me, he mouthed ‘Mom,’ just once. Don’t give up on Theo. He’ll find his own way back to us.”

She handed me a quilted baby blanket she had made with the softest of pink and yellow fabrics. She said she ached for her son and prayed for him, but she knew he was a man capable of taking care of himself. She gave me the note he’d sent her. It simply said
, Don’t worry, I’m getting better.

The note gave her hope, but all I saw was a man trying to comfort his mother with a fragile promise.

Jason became a steady presence in all our lives when he finally came clean to his wife about the baby. He hoped the broken nose surrounded by two black eyes would barter a reprieve from her outrage. No such luck. She packed him up and threw him out. Jason landed back at Steve’s, garbage bags loaded down with balled-up clothes, hangdog expression on his face.

To my surprise, Steve allowed Jason to stay.

I couldn’t stand the emptiness of my condo without Theo, and I gave in to the incessant invitations to gatherings at Steve’s house.

Once, I drove up at the same time Jason’s wife was loading the kids back in the car after a visit. She screeched her tires as she pulled away from the curb, giving me the finger, with her other hand pressed on the horn.

“Don’t mind her,” Jason said from the front porch where he watched, laughing. “That’s for show. She’s not as mean as she looks.”

“Yeah, right,” I muttered, looking over my shoulder to make sure she didn’t circle back.

Jason whistled a happy tune to himself the rest of the afternoon, glowing with lifted spirits because of the brief, volatile visit from his wife. Jason and I got along great. But he thrived on the dose of crazy his wife flung around.

“Maybe you should invite her in sometime. Ask her to stay for dinner,” I said.

His eyes lit up. “Too nice, as always. You know she’ll eat you alive.”

Later, at home, I found a message waiting on my answering machine. Upon hearing Nina’s voice, I walked away without listening. I didn’t want to be reminded that another day had passed without him calling.

I woke up too soon the next morning. I wasn’t planning to go into work until later in the day, and I wasn’t ready to face hours alone. Someone pounded on my door. I bolted up, hoping
he
might be home, but when I swung the door open, I stared into Nina’s face. She looked every regal inch of her five-foot-nine height, in spiked crimson heels undoubtedly selected to accent her black Stella McCartney suit. Her white-blond hair was swept up in a tight twist, and she held an envelope clutch. Nina sashayed past me, moving with the grace of a giraffe.

“You’re not ready?” She eyed the top of my rat’s-nest hair then moved down to my unpolished toes. “Oh dear, you’re a walking crisis. This is worse than I expected, even from
you
.”

“Why are you here?” I was too shocked to be polite. I wanted to collapse onto the sofa, but that would be a vulnerable position with Nina in the room. As far as I knew, Nina only reclined for a massage. Even when she slept, she propped herself up—she’d never risk wrinkling her skin by resting her face against a pillow.

“Oh my word, you’re enormous!” Nina stopped in her tracks. Her eyes took in my pregnancy, which she had not yet seen, and the look on her face was one of disgust. “Is that what you’re wearing?” What she really meant was, that’s
not
what you’re wearing.

With no fight left in me, I stared at her.

“Don’t you check your messages?” She handed me a sheet of paper, and then she headed to a barstool, inspected the seat, and changed her mind about sitting.

Nina and I had scheduled a day of planning and shopping for the baby shower that Ellie and I would have together. Like always, Nina had managed to take over. She had offered to help Ellie do whatever she wanted, but that really meant whatever Nina wanted, which she’d then say was Ellie’s idea. Whatever. I didn’t care about the shower, didn’t need the fuss, and only played along for Ellie’s sake. The only thing—I had my day with Nina on the calendar for the next day.

“What’s this?” Rubbing my eyes, I looked over the page she’d handed me.

“Our itinerary. We have much to cover if we’re going to plan everything this weekend.” The corners of her mouth pulled down. “I left you a message.” She crossed her arms under her chest, causing her implants, the only part of her body that wasn’t a hard line, to bulge up. “I told you I’d be here today. We’re shopping. Go get ready.” She started walking across the condo toward the baby’s room. “I’ll check out the nursery.”

A wave of panic shot through me. “No!”

She stopped and turned with eyebrows raised.

“I don’t want anyone to see it before it’s ready.” I pressed my lips together, facing her head-on. I couldn’t even make myself look. I kept waiting for the urge to go in there, but it never came. Theo might have made the room for the baby, but the room was his. I couldn’t bear to face the other side of that door without him. I wouldn’t be able to go in there and not think of him. I crashed against thoughts of Theo with every breath of each day. I knew the other side of that door would be the place I’d lose my fight.

Nina studied my face for a minute. “I need to see the room to make sure whatever I buy coordinates.”

“If it’s pink it will match fine,” I said automatically, although I had no clue if that was true.

She cocked her head to the side. “Are we talking salmon? Bubblegum? Fuchsia?”

I cleared my throat. “Pink… baby pink.”

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t go with something original for your baby’s room. Don’t be embarrassed.” She gave a brittle smile. “I’ll send my designer over to help.”

“No—no. I want to do it my way.” Not good words to use with someone whose sole purpose in life was to control people. I tugged at my sweat pants to draw her attention away from the baby’s room. “How about I throw something on so we can get going?”

Nina looked me over again and grimaced. “There’s no rush. Do what you need to do to pull yourself together.”

“Everything doesn’t have to be ready in the next two days,” I said, looking over the micromanaged weekend she had plotted out for me. “We’re going to a salon? What for?”

“Do you even own a mirror?” She all but snarled at me. “When people care enough about you to show up for an event in your honor—an event you’re hosting with a dear friend—you have a responsibility to sparkle. I bet you don’t even remember the last time you got a pedicure.”

I did remember. About a month before Theo left, back when times weren’t so prickly, he’d painted my toes early one morning. I’d wanted to wear sandals, but my polish was chipped. I could reach my toes, but only with effort.

“Give me those feet,” he had said.

“You can’t be serious,” I’d replied, but he was. He took the polish from me. The bottle looked tiny in his oversized hands. He pulled my feet into his lap, spending time—too much time—on each toe. He was quiet, paying close attention to detail. I pictured him then, far off in a spectacular kind of hell, running toward the dying. He was gallant enough to try to save someone’s life, but the fact that he’d done so while under attack was hard for me to absorb. He’d made it out alive, and I was lucky to know him, to have him holding my feet, painting my toes.

“How’d I do?” he’d asked when finished.

“Perfect. Ridiculously perfect.”

Nina snapped at me. “Time’s wasting. Go clean yourself up.” She pulled her Blackberry out of her purse and disappeared into her own little world.

I almost made it to my room when she called me back. “Meg?”

I noted the hesitation in her voice. Nina was normally sure about everything. She tucked her purse back under her arm and held her compact up. Tilting her face in the light, she powdered her nose. “How’s your father?”

“He’s good.” I watched her coat her red lips with another layer of lipstick. “Have you called him?”

She nodded, returning her makeup to her bag. She sat down on the edge of a chair and crossed her legs. Folding her long fingers together, she propped them on her knee. “He doesn’t answer my calls. He doesn’t call me back.” Nina and defeat was not a mix I was familiar with. However, having a man not return phone calls was something I knew all too well.

“That sucks.”

She met my eyes. “Yes, it does.” She nodded her head. “It does suck.” Her face puckered momentarily, and then her eyes lit up. “Let me do something at the bookstore.”

“What do you want to do?” She’d never made an effort to visit us there, so I didn’t trust her sudden interest.

“Well, if your dad’s working there, I can too, right?” She stepped closer to me. “I’ll do whatever you want. After all, it’s a family business and I’m family, regardless of whether your father answers my calls or not.”

Too tired to deal with her, I said the only thing I could think of. “Check with Steve. He’s in charge of staffing.”

She pulled out her phone, dialing, and I walked away.

Whenever I spent time with Nina, I always made sure to look my best. To her it mattered, and I never wanted to give her reason to put me down. But that morning, I was not so perky, and I didn’t have it in me to put on a show. I pulled on maternity jeans and a roomy tee, threw my hair up into a bun, and slipped on flip-flops—a true footwear fashion crime. Nina’s judgmental beat-down didn’t scare me. I already felt like crap; I might as well spend the day with someone who would make it worse.

Inhaling, I rushed past Nina to the door, intent to get going, to get the mission over with, hoping she’d follow along. But she was not a follower.

“You ready?” Turning back to her, I was unable to read her. Another perk of the Botox—she had an effortless poker face. “What?” I asked, unable to wait out her stare.

“You look…”

Heat rushed to my face, a snappy reply ready on my lips.

“Quite gorgeous,” she finished definitively.

The flush of anger washed out of me.

“What?” she asked. “I’m serious—women spend a fortune at the dermatologist to make their skin look as good as yours.” Her eyes went to my belly again. I couldn’t blame her; I was huge. “How fantastic to not have to hold it all in.”

At those words, the giggles came. First mine, then Nina joined me, and for the first time in weeks, I felt light.

In my haste to get Nina to quit barking at me, I forgot to call Ellie to warn her. But with Ellie on extended bed rest, I spent so much time at her place that she was used to me stopping by unannounced. Jake was at work, so as usual I knocked and let myself in.

“Ellie, it’s me,” I yelled when I stepped in. “And Nina too.”

Ellie’s head popped around the corner from the kitchen. “Why are you here?” She looked strange out of bed. She looked guilty.

“Nina came a day early. What are you doing? You should be in bed.” In the kitchen the fridge was opened wide, all the contents covered the table and counters. Refrigerator racks soaked in a steaming bubble bath in the sink. “Oh no, you don’t want to make yourself go into labor,” I said. Then it came together. “That’s what you’re trying to do, isn’t it? Get back in bed!”

Nina stepped in then. “Ellie, you’re gorgeous, dear. Show me your room—Meg will take care of this.” To Nina’s credit, Ellie listened and went with her.

I put everything away. Back in her room, Ellie lay propped up in bed looking exhausted. Nina sat at the edge of the mattress, holding her hand, looking conspiratorial.

“We’ll get through this,” Nina said. I rolled my eyes at Ellie, but she smiled at Nina.