Immediate Family (13 page)

“How’s…um…Shelby?” Emerson momentarily blanked on his new wife’s name.

“She’s fine. She says to say hello.”

“And your parents, do they like living in Florida?” They’d moved to Fort Lauderdale the year before, after her former father-in-law retired.

Briggs brightened. “Dad says it’s the best decision they ever made. Everything’s walking distance. And he gets in his eighteen holes a day.”

Emerson stifled a yawn. “Sounds ideal.”

Just then, Ainsley came charging down the hall, her Mary Janes clacking on the tiled floor and the Barbie backpack she clutched in one hand flopping at her side. “Daddy!” She threw her arms around him as he was getting up, sending him toppling back into the chair.

“Whoa there, pardner.” He scooped her up to deliver a loud smack to her cheek. “What’s that you’ve got there?” He eyed the doll protruding from her backpack. “Don’t tell me Samantha’s coming, too?”

Ainsley nodded vigorously. “Look. We’re twinsies.” She twirled to show off her plaid jumper that matched the one her doll had on. Emerson had taken her shopping just last week at American Girl, Ainsley’s favorite store in the world.

Now she bent down to kiss her daughter good-bye. “Remember your manners. Don’t forget to thank Grandma and Grandpa.” She’d never known them to visit without bringing armloads of presents.

Watching her daughter head out the door holding tightly to her father’s hand, she felt unexpectedly bereft. Normally on the nights Ainsley was with her dad, she savored the time alone, taking a long, luxurious bath before curling up with a book or watching TV. But with the day’s events so fresh in her mind, she knew it would be a long evening, with only her sad thoughts to keep her company.

On impulse, she picked up the phone and punched in her mother’s number. But instead of Reggie, a strange, Hispanic-sounding woman answered. No, she didn’t know where Reggie was, she informed Emerson; she was only filling in for the night. Emerson experienced a twinge of anxiety. It wasn’t his regular day off, which meant either he was out sick or…An even worse thought occurred to her: Could Marjorie have become suspicious and sent him packing? Emerson had struggled to maintain a friendly distance, but her mother had a sixth sense when it came to such things.

Retrieving her Palm Pilot from her handbag, she found Reggie’s cell number. “I just called to make sure you were all right,” she said, when he picked up. She kept her voice light as she explained that she’d become concerned when she called her mother’s and he wasn’t there.

“I’m not sick. Just studying for exams. Though at the moment I’m not sure which is worse,” he added with a low chuckle.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Believe me, it’s a welcome distraction.”

She carried the phone into the bedroom, and stretched out on the bed. “Well, if you feel like taking a break, I could use the company.” She smiled lazily up at the ceiling. In some distant part of her brain, a voice was cautioning,
Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Once you start down that path, there’s no turning back,
but she ignored it.

There was a brief pause at the other end. “Do you think that’s wise?” he asked.

Emerson went very still, her heart bucking up against her ribs. Had he changed his mind? Decided she wasn’t worth the risk of losing his job? “You’re right, dumb idea. Forget I mentioned it.” She kept her tone breezy.

“I was thinking of Ainsley,” he said quietly.

In her relief, she let out an involuntary little laugh. “Oh, I see. Well, you can put your mind at ease.”
On that score, at least.
“She’s spending the night at her dad’s.”

“In that case, my studies can wait.”

She gave him her address, her heart pounding as she hung up. It would take him an hour at least to travel from Sheepshead Bay, so she used the time to take a long bath, then rub herself from head to toe in scented oil before getting dressed. Not wanting to appear too obvious, she settled on a plain bra and panties that didn’t scream Victoria’s Secret. A pair of jeans, with a cream silk blouse and pearls, completed the outfit.

But when Reggie finally showed up, she wasn’t prepared for the sight of him standing in the doorway, tall and dignified, his hair jeweled with droplets of the rain that had begun to fall outside. The breath went out of her and she could barely manage a hello. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this nervous on a first date, not since high school.

“I hope you don’t mind staying in,” she said, taking note of his suit and tie.

“Not at all.” Reggie smiled as he stepped over the threshold, his frank gaze leaving no doubt that he’d known exactly what to expect.

“What can I get you to drink?” she asked, leading the way into the living room. “I have beer and wine, and I think a bottle of whiskey somewhere.”

“Wine would be nice.” He sank down on the sofa, his gaze traveling around the living room. She hadn’t gotten around to redecorating since the divorce, and now she found herself seeing it through his eyes: the formal antiques and heavy Jacquard drapes, the pieces of Steuben crystal on the mantel. But if he felt ill at ease, it didn’t show.

She fetched a bottle of chilled white wine from the fridge, her hand trembling slightly as she poured them each a glass. But before long they were chatting easily, just like all those evenings at her mother’s. She told him about the new account she’d just landed, for a chain of fitness spas. And he amused her with a story about Marjorie’s teaching him to play gin rummy and how furious she’d been when he beat her the second round.

Not wanting to spoil the mood, she held off telling him about the funeral until the bottle was nearly empty and she was feeling the effects of the wine. Reggie listened with furrowed brow, as if he understood what it was to lose a loved one. After she’d finished her sad tale, he told her about his baby sister who’d died when he was eight. “My mother was beside herself with grief,” he recalled, his eyes glistening even now at the memory. “For days, she refused all food and drink. All she could do was weep and cry out my sister’s name.”

“But she got over it?” Emerson asked.

“In time.”

“I hope my friend’s wife is as strong as your mother.” It was the first time she’d voiced her fear that Vivienne, like a bright ornament that had shattered, might not bounce back.

“It helps to have caring friends,” he said, lightly touching the back of her hand.

“I’m not sure how good a friend I’ve been,” Emerson confessed, taking another sip of her wine. “I’ve been so caught up in my own life, I haven’t had time to focus on much else.”

He nodded in understanding. “You have your mother to think of.”

“True.” The wine had loosened her inhibitions and now she looked him in the eye. “But maybe I’ve allowed myself to get
too
caught up.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Reggie set his glass down on the coffee table and took both her hands in his. “What is it you’re saying?” he asked, his eyes searching her face.

“I’m not sure,” she said, her fears creeping back in.

“We don’t have to do this,” he said softly.

When she gave no reply, he moved his hands up her arms to her neck, cupping her head lightly as he leaned in to kiss her. In that instant, with her eyes shut, she was aware only of his warm breath against her face and the pleasant, spicy scent of his after-shave. Then his mouth closed over hers, and she felt the last of her resistance slide into the warm sea opening up inside her. It was as if she’d been given permission somehow, and now all the feelings bottled up over these past weeks came pouring out. She loved this man. She loved everything about him: the sound of his voice, the feel of his skin against hers, the taste of him on her mouth.

Before she knew it, she was on his lap. She could feel how aroused he was, and that excited her even more. Yet when he started to unbutton her blouse, she captured his hand and pulled it away from her, whispering in his ear, “Not here.” She got up, drawing him to his feet.
If we’re going to make love,
she thought,
I want it to be on the bed.
Not the sofa, feeling like a teenager sneaking around behind her mother’s back.

In her bedroom, she left the lights off and they undressed in the dark. Reggie removing her clothes first, taking his time, each button and hook a small seduction in itself. Finally he knelt to pull her jeans down over her hips, pausing here and there to kiss and caress her in places that hadn’t felt a man’s touch in so long, it was like the first time ever.

When she was naked, she undressed him as slowly as he had her, getting acquainted with his body, its muscled planes and hollows. In the darkness, each sensation was heightened, an exquisite note held. There was only the heat of their bodies, the velvety feel of his skin against hers. She heard the muffled chink of his belt buckle hitting the carpeted floor, then they were stepping over the clothes puddled at their feet as they felt their way toward the bed.

They lay down facing each other, and Reggie drew her in close, sinking his teeth lightly into her shoulder and whispering, “You taste sweet, like melon.”

“I’ve never been compared to a melon before,” she said, with a laugh.

“It is a good thing, trust me.”

Their lovemaking was full of similar revelations. For Emerson, it was like learning to swim all over again, when before, with other men, all she’d done was tread water. Blood rushed in her ears and her breath quickened, coming in soft bursts as she rocked against him, matching her rhythm to his. When she came at last, it was so intense she almost lost consciousness.
Sweet God in heaven,
she thought as the wave of blackness receded, leaving a twinkling of stardust behind her closed eyelids in its wake. So this was what Franny and Stevie had been talking about all these years. It wasn’t like with Briggs, when she’d always drop off to sleep afterward. She felt charged, ready to take on the world.

The question was, could she take on Marjorie?

What are you afraid of?
she asked herself.
She can’t hurt you.
But Emerson knew better. She knew her mother would stop at nothing to get her way.

She pushed the thought from her mind, murmuring, “That was nice.”

“For me, too.” Reggie’s voice was a throaty rumble against her ear.

“It’s always been hard for me with…with other men,” she confessed.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not like other men,” he said, stroking her hair.

“That you most definitely are not.” She smiled to herself.

“And you,” he traced the curve of her ear with his fingertip, “are like no other woman I’ve known.”

“So where do we go from here?”

After a moment of silence, he said, “That’s up to you.”

She lifted her head to peer at him in the darkness. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think it would be better if my mother didn’t know. For now, at least.”

His chest rose and fell in a deep exhalation. “And when she does find out?”

“I’m hoping she won’t.” She didn’t dare say it aloud: Her mother might not live that long.

She could see Reggie struggling with his emotions. He wasn’t the type to sneak around. But finally he acquiesced with a slow nod, saying, “I will do as you wish.”

What she
wished,
Emerson thought with frustration, was that she could shout her love from the mountaintops. But for now, she’d have to settle for whispering it in the dark.

A
nother late night, bud?” Todd Oster stuck his head into Jay’s office as he was leaving for the day.

Jay looked up from his drafting table, surprised to see that it was dark outside. He’d been so absorbed in his work, he hadn’t noticed. He scrubbed his face with an open hand, blinking until his bleary vision cleared and Todd’s bearded, mountain-man face swam into focus.

“It’s this damn design,” he said. “Something’s not quite right, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

Todd crossed the room to peer over his shoulder. “Looks more like a box of chocolates than a breakfast cereal.” He gave Jay an affectionate punch on the arm. “Either you’re losing your touch or you could use a break. Knowing you, I’d say the latter.”

When Jay had made the move from Saatchi & Saatchi to the smaller, edgier agency of Beck/Blustein, he’d brought Todd with him to head up his design team. They worked well together, and Jay considered him a valuable asset. But Todd had also proved to be a good friend, the only one here with the balls to give him exactly what he needed during this difficult time: compassion along with the occasional swift kick in the rear.

“That bad, huh?” Jay eyed the sketch, one of several concepts they were working on as part of their multimedia campaign for Heartland Mills.

“I’ve seen worse.” Todd shrugged. “Listen, why don’t you let me buy you a drink. You look like you could use one.”

“Nah. I should be getting home.” There was nothing Jay would have liked better than to stop at Shaughnessy’s on the way, but he was late enough as it was.

“Another time then. Come on, I’ll walk out with you.” Before Jay could protest, Todd had snagged his suit jacket from the back of his chair and was handing it to him.

“Okay. I can take a hint.” Jay stood up, arching his back to release the kink in his spine.

He and Todd took the elevator down to the main floor. They were making their way across the nearly deserted lobby when Todd inquired, a bit too casually, “How are things at home?”

“All right. We’re taking it a day at a time.” Jay kept his tone neutral.

“I think that expression was coined by AA. You haven’t taken up drinking, have you?” Todd’s bearded face creased in a smile.

“It’s always an option,” Jay said.

“Seriously, you okay?” Todd wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily. “No offense, buddy, but you haven’t exactly been at the top of your game lately. If there’s anything I can do…”

“I’m fine, really.” Jay spoke more sharply than he’d intended. “Things aren’t great, I admit, but they could be a lot worse,” he added, even as a voice inside him asked,
Oh really? And just
how
could they be worse?

“Yeah, you could be going through a divorce,” Todd muttered, referring to his own current situation. “Hell, if it weren’t for the kids—” He broke off, wearing a contrite look. “Sorry. That was stupid of me.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tiptoe around me.” Jay preferred the occasional gaffe to those who monitored their every word, fearful of saying anything that would remind him of his loss.

As if he could forget.

The revolving glass door deposited them on the sidewalk, where they were met by a blast of hot, muggy air. August in the city. He ought to be used to it by now, but after all these years he still missed breathing in air that smelled of new-mown hay instead of exhaust and rotting refuse.

“Later, bud.” Todd clapped Jay on the shoulder before heading off down the street.

Jay stood there for a moment, watching his friend stride along Third Avenue. He almost envied Todd going home to his semi-furnished bachelor pad. Todd could be as miserable as he wanted; he didn’t have to pretend to be cheerful for his wife’s sake. And if it was another night of takeout, at least he could enjoy it without his stomach being in knots.

Jay felt a stab of guilt, resolving to be more patient with Vivienne.

It was tough, though, chattering on about his day while she sat like a zombie, barely responding. Not even the antidepressants she was taking seemed to be working. She slept most of the day, and had lost so much weight it was scary. Even more worrisome, she’d lost all interest in socializing. Whenever he suggested getting together with friends, hoping it would cheer her up, she’d merely shake her head, saying she wasn’t up to it.

Yet if he grew frustrated at times, he had to keep reminding himself that it was harder for her than for him. He hadn’t carried their baby inside him for nine months.

And, of course, the thing that went unspoken—he had another child on the way.

The thought of Franny brought a fresh helping of guilt. He’d been keeping her at arm’s length lately. It was simply too painful for Vivienne to be around her. The few times Franny had dropped by, it had been so uncomfortable she hadn’t stayed long. Franny was trying her best to not take it personally, he knew, but how could she not feel rejected? In a matter of weeks, she’d gone from a close family friend to a virtual pariah.

He wanted to make it up to her somehow, but how? He was already sliced so thin, any more and he’d crumble.

He took a cab home, getting out on the corner of Broadway and Twenty-fifth. Approaching his building, he was pleasantly surprised, when he glanced up, to see the lights on in their loft. Vivienne must be up and about. A good sign.

Coming in through the door, he called more brightly than usual, “Viv! I’m home!”

No answer.

He walked into the bedroom to find a half-packed suitcase lying open on the bed. He stared at it, not comprehending, until Vivienne emerged from the walk-in closet with an armful of clothes, dressed as if to go out. “Jay…” She halted, a guilty look coming over her face.

“What’s all this?” He gestured toward the suitcase.

“Please, don’t be angry,” she said in a small voice. “It was Maman. She insisted I come.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

“I only found out today. She’d already booked the ticket.”

“You could have discussed it with me first,” he said in a hard voice.

“I was afraid you’d try to talk me out of it.” Vivienne’s eyes filled with tears. She sank down on the bed, the clothes in her arms sliding to the floor in a heap. “I can’t do this anymore. If I don’t get away, I…I don’t know what will happen.”

She looked so distraught, his heart went out to her despite himself. He took a step toward her. “And you thought I wouldn’t understand? Am I really that insensitive?”

“No, of course not.” She dropped her head into her hands, kneading her temples as if she had a headache coming on. “It’s just…we’re both hurting. Being around each other is only making it worse.”

“It’s hard when you keep shutting me out.”

“I know. It’s not your fault.” She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. Her face was pale, the skin stretched too tight over her cheekbones. “Don’t you see? You can’t fix this. You’re too close to it yourself.” She sighed. “Maman’s right. It’s time for me to go home.”

“I thought this was your home.”

“Please, Jay, don’t make this any harder.”

He eyed her for a long moment, wondering if
his
feelings had factored into her decision at any point. But what was the use of arguing? Her mind was clearly made up. He released the pent-up air in his lungs, sinking down beside her on the bed. “How long will you be away?”

Her thin shoulders lifted and fell. “Until I’m better. Until I can find a reason to get up in the morning.”

“I have a better idea,” he said, taking a wild stab. “Why don’t I take some time off from work? We’ll take that trip to Greece we’ve always talked about. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She started to cry, her mouth working in soundless misery.

Jay used his thumb to wipe away the tears running down her cheeks. “Babe, I know it’s been hard, but running away isn’t going to help. I need you. We need each other.”

She shook her head. “You don’t need me, not like this. I know what you think, that it’s time I snapped out of it. I can see it in your eyes. But I
can’t,
Jay. I’ve tried and tried, and each day it gets a little harder because I see
you
moving on.”

He winced inwardly, knowing there was more than a grain of truth to what she was saying. Even so, he reminded her, “I lost a child, too.”

“But you still have Franny’s.” She gave a harsh laugh. “God, when I think how arrogant I was! Imagining we could all be one big happy family. You, me, Franny, our kids.” Her eyes that had been dead for so long blazed to life like a struck match.

“No one could have predicted this,” he said.

“It’s like I’m being punished,” she went on, as if she hadn’t heard him.

“For being a good friend to Franny?” She wasn’t making any sense.

“Oh, I’m a good friend, all right.”

The bitter irony with which she spoke made him ask, “Viv, is there something you’re not telling me?”

She rose abruptly to her feet. “I have to go. I’ll miss my flight.” She hastily finished packing and zipped the suitcase shut.

He walked her to the door, feeling as if he were in a play for which he hadn’t rehearsed his lines. There was so much he wanted to say—
Don’t go. I love you. I’ll miss you
—but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, all he could manage was “Call me when you get there.”

He must have looked bereft, for she brought her hand to his cheek. “Don’t be sad,
chéri.
It’s better this way, really. You won’t miss me as much when I’m gone.”

It wasn’t until the door closed behind her that the meaning of her words sank in. For in a way, hadn’t she already left him?

In the weeks that followed, Franny made it her mission to see that Jay didn’t spend his every waking hour either at work or moping around the loft. On weekends when the weather was nice, they went for long walks, stopping here and there to poke around in shops or grab a bite to eat. If it was raining, they went to a movie or a museum. And when her monthly appointment with her obstetrician rolled around, she insisted Jay accompany her.

Listening to the baby’s heartbeat for the first time, his eyes lit up and a huge grin spread across his face. It was the first real smile she’d seen in weeks, and it warmed her. Her old friend whom she’d missed so much was gradually returning to the land of the living.

“How can you stand not knowing?” he asked as they were leaving the doctor’s office. He still couldn’t get over the fact that she’d opted not to be informed of the baby’s sex.

“Shouldn’t there be a few surprises left in life?” she said, placing a hand on her belly, where at the moment their baby was doing what felt like the mambo. “Anyway, we’ll know soon enough.”

“Just promise me one thing: If it’s a boy, you won’t name him after your uncle Moishe.”

She flashed him a grin. “Why not? I always liked my uncle Moishe.”

“Tell that to our kid when he’s getting the shit kicked out of him in school.”

Franny tucked her arm into his as they strolled along Madison Avenue. “How about buying a pregnant lady lunch?”

“Sure. What’s your pleasure?”

“Anything, as long as there’s lots of it. I’m starved.”

Franny took it as a good sign that he hadn’t insisted on getting back to work or even glanced at his watch. He was making progress. Either that, or he was going out of his way to make up for all the doctor’s appointments he’d missed. She’d assured him over and over that she was a big girl and didn’t expect him to hold her hand throughout her pregnancy, but knew he felt bad that he hadn’t been there for her.

They walked several more blocks before ducking into Le Pain Quotidien, where they were able to snag a table for two. Their waitress brought them a basket of crusty bread still warm from the oven, and Franny fell on it as if she hadn’t eaten in a week.

“I really shouldn’t, I know,” she said, as she was buttering her third slice. “Dr. Stein will have to weigh me on a freight scale next time.”

“You’re eating for two,” Jay reminded her.

“It feels more like three. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was having twins.” Jay’s expression clouded over briefly, and she placed her hand on his arm, saying gently, “I know it’s not the same as with Stephan. I don’t expect you to be as excited with this one.”

Jay pulled himself out of his funk to give her a smile. “Believe me, when this kid is born, I’ll be passing out cigars.”

“You don’t smoke,” she reminded him.

“You’re missing the point.”

“Which is?”

“I plan on being a hands-on dad.”

Franny warmed at the thought, a mental picture forming of Jay with a Snugli strapped to his chest, their baby’s fuzzy head poking up from it. Then the thought of Keith intruded.

“While we’re on the subject, there’s something you should know,” she broached, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Keith and I…um, it looks as though I might be moving to L.A.”

Jay blinked and sat back. “So it’s official?”

“Not yet,” she said. “But I think he’s getting ready to pop the question.”

“That’s…well, that’s great. I’m really happy for you.” Despite his words, he looked crestfallen.

“Don’t break out the champagne just yet. He hasn’t asked…and I haven’t accepted.”