She has to get in touch with Matt.
Gabby – I can’t believe I heard from you! It’s been, what? A year? Feels like for ever since you and I were in touch. After I came to visit, when everything got really awkward, I could tell you were uncomfortable so I thought it best to just keep my distance and give you some space. I figured you’d get in touch when you were ready, and this morning – there you were! Bringing a huge smile to my face. But you told me nothing – I don’t know anything about your life these past few months and I’m dying to hear your news. Did you turn the barn into a store? Are you now a furniture-restoring/furniture-selling mogul? Are you happy?
Life here is as crazy busy as ever. Remarkably, I’m in a relationship! Yes, you heard me right. A real relationship.
Monroe is her name – I know, so LA :) – and she’s truly a great girl. She’s a model, but completely unlike so many of the airhead models I’ve come across out here. She has a degree in physics, and is very precise, and organized, and competent. I suppose I would describe her as a woman of substance. She reminds me of you in a lot of ways. She’s warm, and fun, and wickedly clever. She’s also the most secure woman I’ve ever met, other than you. She inhabits her skin comfortably and easily. I hope the two of you can meet – I know you’d get on.So, what’s the cryptic message about wanting to talk to me? We could chat on Skype, but I’m coming to New York next week and it would be easy to fly out to Connecticut for lunch. Are you around next week? Does that work? Tuesday?
Am sending you a big hug, and I want to hear all your news. I’m so happy you got back in touch!
Matt xoxoxoxox
As soon as Gabby reads the message all traces of the anger and resentment she’d harboured towards Matt for months disappear entirely. She reads the email over and over, a large smile on her face.
Her own, to him, was stilted and short. She never expected such warmth, and, dare she say it, even love, in his email. But there is undoubtedly affection in every line, and the prospect of seeing him, of telling him about Henry, is suddenly far less frightening.
She sends him an email in reply, managing to fill it
with fluff – books she has read that she loves, her happiness at him having found someone, her life being busier than ever.
She resists the temptation to drop even a hint into the email. Such life-changing, momentous news needs to be delivered in person, even in these digital times, and she phones Le Farm to book a quiet table so she can break the news.
Her figure is nowhere near ready for the jeans to be done up, so it is the ubiquitous yoga pants for her today, teamed with a flowing sweater and scarf, cute white sneakers.
I look like my mother, she thinks to herself with a smile as she checks her reflection before going downstairs.
‘You look like me!’ her mother exclaims as Gabby walks into the kitchen. She finds Henry reclining in a bouncing chair on the table, being fed, Natasha having warmed up a bottle of pre-pumped breast milk that was left in the fridge.
‘Mum!’ Gabby warns. ‘It’s not time. He’s not supposed to have that for another twenty minutes.’
‘But he was hungry!’ complains her mother, who still does not understand Gabby’s need to follow a routine, particularly since Gabby was fed on demand and slept in the family bed long before the concept of the family bed even had a name.
‘Okay, okay.’ Gabby can’t be bothered to argue. She
has little tolerance for the screaming of a hungry newborn baby either. When Olivia and Alanna used to scream Elliott would take them in his arms and walk them endlessly up and down the stairs until they were quiet. With no Elliott, it is far easier to just feed Henry when he wants it.
Perhaps her mother is right after all.
‘You look beautiful,’ her mother says. ‘In all seriousness. You really ought to wear make-up more often.’
‘Thank you.’ Gabby leans down to give her a kiss, before planting a kiss on Henry. ‘Wish me luck.’
Natasha raises her free hand to show her fingers are crossed, before blowing Gabby a kiss as she heads out of the door.
She wasn’t nervous in the slightest before she pulled into the parking space outside the restaurant, but as soon as she parks she starts to feel slightly sick. How is she supposed to tell him? And when? Does she make small talk throughout lunch and drop the news like a bombshell over coffee? Would she even be able to do that? To pretend everything is fine, knowing she is about to change his life for ever?
Or does she blurt it out at the beginning, risking him storming out of the restaurant, leaving her alone and embarrassed to pay the bill? What if there’s someone she knows in there? What if there are women who overhear, who then spread rumours, or pass her pitying looks as she stumbles out in a fog of humiliation?
She
pushes open the door, passes the heavy curtain, and scans the tiny restaurant to see Matt already there, in the corner, his face lighting up as he sees her. There is something so familiar about him, so reassuring about seeing him, and yet all the attraction she once felt has disappeared. It is like seeing a long-lost brother, not a man with whom she was once obsessed.
‘Gabby!’ He holds out his arms, giving her a huge hug, and she allows herself to be held, relieved not to have seen disappointment in his eyes. She no longer wants him, not in that way, but for him to be so instantly comfortable, so warm, so clearly pleased to see her gives her confidence, sets her at ease.
‘You look beautiful,’ he says, and it is clear he means it. ‘This has obviously been a good year for you.’
‘It has been … a tumultuous year,’ she says, seeing the opportunity, wishing it hadn’t presented itself quite so early on in the lunch. ‘You look handsome. And happy. I love your hair longer. It suits you.’
He blushes. ‘You won’t believe this but I think I’ve finally met the girl to … tame me. I’ve actually fallen in love, and she, Monroe, likes my hair longer.’ He is bashful telling Gabby this. ‘This is all her doing, I’m afraid.’ He runs his fingers through his hair and grins self-consciously.
‘You’re in love!’ Gabby teases. ‘Oh, Matt. I’m so happy for you. You deserve it.’
She is astonished to find she means these words, that
there is not a hint of jealousy in her being, only pleasure that he has found happiness.
‘What’s she like?’
‘Funny. Smart as a whip. No-nonsense. She’s a little like you. And she’s practical – she can make anything, and she’s far better with a screwdriver than I am.’
‘And beautiful, I’m sure.’
‘She does some modelling.’ He shrugs as if to apologize. ‘But enough about me and my love. You said you’ve had a tumultuous year. What does that mean?’
‘Oh God. It’s a very long story. One that needs a drink.’ She smiles. ‘Will you join me?’
‘Martinis at lunchtime? How decadent!’ He grins. ‘I’d forgotten what a good drinking partner you are.’
‘No Martinis for me at the moment. But a weak white-wine spritzer would be lovely.’
They order drinks and chat about the restaurant, the menu, the deliciousness of the dishes that pass them, until there is a pause.
‘You still haven’t told me about the tumultuous year.’
Gabby nods slowly. ‘That’s because I’m not sure where to start.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘I separated from my husband.’
Matt’s eyes fill with sympathy and he reaches across the table for her hand. ‘Oh, Gabby. I’m so sorry.’
‘Thank you. It’s been devastating. Oh God.’ She starts to laugh, raising her eyes to the ceiling, unable to believe how like a bad movie this is feeling. ‘I just don’t
know how to say this, so I’ll come out with it. I had a baby.’
‘Are you serious?’ Matt’s smile contains astonishment and confusion. ‘My God. That was quick! You look amazing.’
‘Matt, my husband had a vasectomy. The baby isn’t his.’
Matt just stares at her, uncomprehending, until the expression on his face conveys that he understands what she is saying, or, rather, what she is saying by saying nothing at all.
Grateful he didn’t ask whether she was sure, Gabby steers the car up Post Road, checking in her rear-view mirror that Matt, in his rental car, is still behind her. She thought about offering him a ride, but she needed some time alone to think about what just happened, so, instead, she quietly suggested leading him back to her house to meet Henry.
She knows now that her mother was absolutely right in advising her to contact Matt. Gabby had been so afraid of having anything to do with him, with this man she had turned into a powerful demonic figure. In her mind he had become the wicked person solely responsible for breaking up her marriage; she was terrified that he would also destroy the new happiness she had found with the baby. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to lose that, to have Henry taken from her.
As she drives she almost laughs with relief that her fears were so way out of proportion.
In all the possible scenarios, never had she imagined him to be so … calm. He was, he said, ‘blown away’, but not unhappily so. ‘A son,’ he kept repeating. ‘A
son
!’
He was boyishly bewildered, incredulous that he had managed to create another life.
And instinctively Gabby knew he wouldn’t fight her for custody, or try to steal Henry. She had the strong feeling that Matt would play a part in Henry’s life, but that it wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Seeing Matt behind her, concentrating on following her, she has a sudden vision of Henry as a small boy, holding Matt’s hand, splashing in the water and learning to surf.
She is there, watching, as the matriarch. Perhaps his girlfriend will be there too, in the water with them, but she will not be threatened by Gabby. Gabby has no designs on Matt.
Seeing him today, without the rose-coloured glasses of obsession and intoxication she once wore whenever he was around, she is able to enjoy his youthful enthusiasm, his guileless charm.
Quite how they will figure this out, with her on the east coast, him on the west, remains to be seen, but Gabby is curiously content with his reaction, with the knowledge that he wants to be involved.
‘You’re back so soon!’ Her mother’s voice comes from the kitchen. ‘Henry’s upstairs sleeping. How was it? How did he –’
‘Mum! We’re here. He, Matt, is here.’ Gabby shoots Matt an apologetic grin as she leads him through to the kitchen.
‘Oh!’
Natasha stands up. ‘Gosh. You are tall. I’m Gabby’s mother, Natasha de Roth. How do you do?’ She extends a hand as Matt smiles awkwardly.
‘It’s nice to meet you, Mrs de Roth. Are you staying here for long?’
‘Call me Natasha,’ she says. ‘And you don’t have to make small talk with me. Questions like that always make me think of the Queen. Do you know that at her garden parties she’s reported to always ask people, “Have you travelled far?” She asks the same thing over and over again. Can you imagine? I’d rather kill myself. I’d much rather ask someone what’s their favourite car, or what would be their movie-star name.’
‘Nineteen fifty-six Porsche Speedster. George Lazenby.’
‘You can’t have George Lazenby,’ Natasha says, her eyes sparkling with delight. ‘It’s taken.’
‘I know. But you have to admit it’s the perfect name. Most people my age have no idea that there ever was a George Lazenby, so I could easily steal it.’
‘True. And a nineteen fifty-six Porsche Speedster sounds glamorous. And expensive.’
Matt grins. ‘It is. Both.’
‘Okay, you two,’ Gabby says. ‘We’re going to go upstairs. How long has Henry been asleep?’
‘Almost two hours. Go on up.’
Gabby motions for Matt to lead the way through the door, but her mother grabs her arm and pulls her back to whisper furiously in her ear, ‘He’s adorable!’
Gabby
just smiles and shakes her head, detaching herself, then she and Matt go upstairs.
‘I’m so scared I’ll drop him.’ Matt has a look of terror on his face when Gabby offers him Henry.
‘You’ll be fine.’ She shows him how to support the baby’s head, then sits down next to him on the bed as they both gaze at their son.
‘Wow!’ Matt’s voice is low and soft. ‘I think he looks like me. Don’t you think he has my eyes?’ Henry is staring up at his father. ‘I think he knows me. Hi, little dude. Do you know who I am? I’m your daddy.’ He is filled with wonder, and Gabby has sudden memories of when Olivia was born.
Each of her children’s births was awesome, but none quite so magical nor overwhelming as the first. The first time she held Olivia she couldn’t tear her eyes from her, wanting to drink her in, unable to believe this mysterious, magnificent creature had grown inside her body, had been created by her.
Matt feels it too. The awe at the life he has created. When he finally turns his head to look at Gabby there are tears in his eyes, and a lump in his throat.
‘He’s amazing,’ he whispers. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘I know,’ she says.
Just then the front door bangs open and, with shock, she hears the girls come in from school, their footsteps thumping on the stairs as they scramble up to see their brother.
Olivia
is first, and she pulls up short, the smile wiped off her face as she stares at this strange man holding her baby brother. Alanna, coming up next, still smiles but is curious as to who this man is, this man cradling Henry in her mother’s bedroom.
‘Hi?’ Olivia’s greeting is a question.
Gabby immediately thinks of her mother saying absolute clarity is called for. No more lies; no more evasion.
‘Hi, girls,’ she says warily. ‘I’d like you to meet someone. This is Matt.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘This is Henry’s father.’
‘Wow. Hi!’ Alanna comes in and bends down to inspect her brother, completely unfazed by this information, but Olivia stays in the doorway, her eyes narrowing as she glares at Matt.
‘Olivia?’ Gabby prompts. ‘Please come in and say hello properly.’
But Olivia says nothing. She whirls round and stalks down the hallway, and the next thing to be heard is the slamming of her bedroom door.
Gabby is mortified. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she says, turning to Matt. ‘I don’t know why she was so rude.’
‘Yes, you do,’ Matt says, because as lunch progressed he learned the remainder of the story about her marriage breaking up due to the pregnancy. ‘It’s understandable. She blames me.’
‘I’ll go and talk to her. Are you okay being here with the baby?’
His
face lights up. ‘You don’t mind leaving me with him?’
‘Can you handle it?’
‘If you can.’ He looks nervous. ‘What do I do if he cries?’
‘Alanna’s here. She’s very good with him, and I’m only two rooms away. If he cries, cuddle him. He loves being rocked and going up and down stairs.’ She lays a hand on his arm just as she leaves. ‘Relax,’ she says. ‘You’re going to be great.’
There is not a peep from Henry as Gabby walks down the hallway to Olivia’s room. She knocks tentatively on the door and waits, but there is no response.
‘Olivia? Let me come in.’
She turns the handle and opens the door. Olivia is sitting at her desk, pretending to be immersed in work; but her back and shoulders are tense, and she won’t turn round and look at her mother, won’t respond.
‘I talked to your grandmother last week about what to do, whether or not to tell Henry’s father he has a son, because I wasn’t going to. She pointed out, and I agree, that the father has a right to know Henry; that Henry has a right to know his father. He flew in from California today and I told him at lunch, and I honestly didn’t know what his reaction would be, but he wants to be involved.’
‘Involved how?’ Olivia spits. ‘Involved with you?’
‘No. Not with me. There is nothing between us any
more.’ Gabby doesn’t know if it is her imagination but she is certain she sees a slight relaxation of Olivia’s shoulders. ‘Involved with Henry.’
‘But he’s in your bedroom. And he’s the man responsible for Dad leaving. If it wasn’t for him, you and Dad would still be together. We’d still be a real family.’
‘Oh, Olivia. We are still a real family. If you’re going to blame anyone at all for what happened, blame me. I know you
have
blamed me, but don’t blame Matt. He had no idea of the circumstances of my life, and he’s a nice man.’
‘I just …’ Olivia’s voice chokes. ‘I just wish things were how they used to be. I wish you and Dad were still together. I wish he wasn’t with that horrible Trish. I wish everything was like the old days.’ She dissolves in tears and Gabby rushes to comfort her.
‘I know,’ she croons. ‘I wish that too, but we have to accept that things are different. This is our life now. We can’t keep looking into the past and wishing for something that no longer exists. We have to move forward. You have to find a way to accept Henry’s father because, like it or not, he’s a part of this family.’
‘He’s not a part of
my
family.’
There is little point in saying anything else, in trying to persuade Olivia otherwise when she is in a mood like this. Gabby kisses her daughter on the top of her head and leaves her, knowing that she needs some time on her own, that she will re-emerge in an hour or so, pretending to still be grumpy, although she will, in fact, be fine.
Gabby
closes Olivia’s bedroom door softly then stands and thinks for a moment about what Olivia said in there, her description of ‘that horrible Trish’. Thank God, she thinks, feeling ever so slightly guilty. But thank God it isn’t just me.
In her bedroom Matt is now standing, walking around, gently rocking Henry and singing him nursery rhymes, while Alanna lies on stomach on the bed, heels up in the air, laughing each time Matt gets the words wrong, which he is clearly doing deliberately to make Alanna laugh.
Gabby smiles and goes downstairs to her mother, who grins broadly at her as she finishes topping a cottage pie with grated cheese.
‘Well!’ She turns, folding her arms and beaming. ‘What a wonderful man. Boy. I’m not sure which, but he’s wonderful. What does he think of his son?’
‘I think he thinks he’s pretty amazing.’ Gabby wells up, sitting at the table and running her fingers through her hair. ‘God, I feel emotionally exhausted. All the pent-up dread and anticipation, but it couldn’t feel more right. I think Matt’s fallen in love.’
‘Who wouldn’t fall in love with that delicious little baby, who is, by the way, the best baby ever? Hardly a peep out of him. Makes me wish I’d had more.’
‘Except they would undoubtedly have been screamers like me,’ Gabby reminds her.
‘True.’ Natasha pops the cottage pie into the oven
and sets the timer. ‘Now, is there any laundry to be done? I’ll go upstairs and check, shall I?’
‘No. Mum, it’s fine. Sit.’ Gabby gestures to the chair, not wanting to overtire her mother, who is turning out to have surpassed all Gabby’s expectations, even the deeply hidden ones she had thought were no more than wild hopes. Natasha hasn’t stopped looking after all of them, making Gabby wonder if, in fact, part of the problem had been that Gabby was an only child. Natasha needs a crowd, needs to be needed by a large number of people, not one independent, self-sufficient child.
Perhaps she could see Gabby never needed her, which is why she pulled in all the waifs and strays in the first place. Now she is needed. By Gabby. By the girls. By Henry, and now, perhaps, by Matt.
Natasha is in her element, cooking, doing laundry, and Gabby wants to tell her how grateful she is, but doesn’t know how to say the words. Instead she reaches out and squeezes her mother’s hand, and her mother squeezes back, because she knows what Gabby would say if she was able to say the words.
They both turn as Matt comes into the room, Henry starting to fuss in his arms. Matt holds him out, panicked, and Gabby takes her son, who instantly calms down when his mother holds him.
‘Would you like to stay for supper?’ Natasha asks with a bright smile. ‘It’s cottage pie.’
‘What’s
cottage pie?’
‘Shepherd’s pie,’ explains Gabby. ‘In England shepherd’s pie is made with lamb, and cottage pie with beef, but here I know everyone just calls it shepherd’s pie.’
Matt looks at Natasha, shaking his head slowly. ‘I have no idea how you knew this, but that happens to be my favourite dish.’
‘There are those who have called me something of a witch,’ Natasha says, twinkling.
‘No, I think it was a “b”,’ Gabby says. ‘Bitch. They said you were a bitch.’ Matt watches as she and her mother crack up.
‘Well? Are you staying?’ Natasha directs her attention back to Matt.
‘Let me talk to Gabby,’ he says, for which she is entirely grateful. It is so like her mother to invite all and sundry to stay, and she cannot blame her for inviting Matt, who she has clearly taken an immediate shine to.
There is Olivia to think of, and Alanna, although Alanna seems fine. And there is Gabby, who is delighted, but unprepared for Matt to suddenly be a part of this family. She thinks it is probably the right thing for the future, but needs to take it slowly.
‘Do you want to go for a walk?’ Matt says.
Gabby puts Henry in his bouncing chair, grabs her coat and gloves, slips her feet into snow boots, then they set off down the road.
‘I feel completely overwhelmed,’ Matt confesses, as they reach the corner. ‘I have no idea what to feel about
this. I’m thrilled, and awed. And scared. I don’t know if I’m ready to be a father.’
Gabby says nothing, but gives him room to try to sort out his thoughts, imagining how hard this must be for him, dealing with such unexpected news.
‘At lunch, when you told me, I was freaking out inside, but then I thought, okay, so I made you pregnant, but it didn’t mean my life would have to change. I hadn’t thought about kids, other than to assume I’d have them at some point, but I figured that was all down the road. I guess I came back to meet him because it felt like something I had to do, but I didn’t expect to feel …’ He shakes his head. ‘I didn’t expect to
love
him.
Instantly
. To feel this … this, bond. Like I would do anything for him, would throw myself off a bridge for him. I know it sounds dramatic, but it’s just that I have never felt anything like this, and I’ve spent, what? An hour with him? Two?’