The Year We Turned Forty (35 page)

Jessie's jaw fell open as she realized she wasn't the only one with secrets, discovering just how far Claire had been willing to go to keep David from Emily. Before, when Jessie found out she was pregnant, Claire had told her repeatedly that she should tell Grant the truth because it had a way of finding its way out. Jessie wondered why she hadn't taken her own advice.

Claire debated what to do, what to say. Now, if she stayed, she'd have to deal with David and the negative impact he could have on Emily's life. Even though he stood before them now, resolving to be the father he'd never been, she worried he would revert to his old ways. She'd finally helped Emily get to a good place in her life and she knew Mason could be the father figure she needed. Claire glanced at Emily, whose large eyes were shining as she stared at her dad. Claire certainly didn't need David. But maybe Emily did.

She saw Gabriela across the room and wondered if she was aware of what was going on. Gabriela shot her a questioning look before being distracted by something out the window. Claire followed her gaze to see Colin coming up the winding driveway. When Claire had begun to walk away earlier, before David grabbed her shoulder and changed her life, it had been to search for Colin, having convinced herself that Colin was the
only person who could affect Gabriela's decision to stay. She planned to plead with him not to give up on becoming a parent. Her earlier motivation was fueled to convince Gabriela to stay. Now she wasn't sure she belonged here either. Claire was still thinking when, to her surprise, Gabriela turned in the opposite direction of her husband and beelined back toward Grant, who was still leaning comfortably against the bar. Claire drew in a deep breath as another man carefully filled his scotch glass to the brim, before slinging an arm around Grant's shoulders. She watched in horror as Peter leaned in close, as if he had a story to tell. Claire swallowed hard as she watched Grant sit on the stool and bend his ear in to listen.

Jessie followed Claire's gaze across the room, landing on her husband and her onetime lover. “No!” she heard her stammer as she ran toward them.

Jessie's heart hammered as she hurried across the tent to where Grant and Peter were huddled together. Feeling like she was sprinting toward a finish line, her adrenaline powering her body forward with full force, she darted around her party guests, nearly colliding with a server carrying a tray of crab cakes.

“Sorry!” she blurted to the waiter as she approached her husband and the man who would bring her entire world crashing down with just four words—the same four she'd let slip from her lips when she'd told Grant last time:
Lucas isn't your son.
Her life flashed through her mind like snapshots in a photo album: her pregnancy tests piled up in the Starbucks bathroom trash can; being hunched over the toilet with her head in her hands as she contemplated what she'd done; confessing to Peter that she was pregnant, his face peaked; the contrast when she revealed the same information to Grant, his face flush with excitement; the next nine months, when her anxiety expanded along with her belly; Lucas' birth; Grant's grieving face as he processed the fact that Lucas wasn't his son; her sobs as she watched Grant throw
his belongings haphazardly into a ripped navy blue duffel bag; her heart breaking in half as she signed the divorce papers, the black pen leaking all over her fingers and onto her skirt.

And now she studied her husband's open face—not wanting to watch as his expression shifted, not wanting to see his brow knot, his eyes narrow, his lips frown, wishing she could skip over this part somehow—the moment where he discovered Jessie had been lying to him. As she threw herself frantically toward him, she decided she couldn't and
wouldn't
let that happen. Not this way.

•  •  •

Gabriela also raced toward Grant and Peter, her kitten heels sliding on the dance floor, nearly tripping over a chair, but regaining her balance. She watched Peter lean in closer toward Grant and imagined the words spilling out of his mouth in urgent whispers.
I am Lucas' real father.
She focused on Grant's face as he rested his chin on his hand and listened, likely expecting a piece of gossip or an anecdote, never imagining Peter was about to bring his world to a screeching halt.

Gabriela remembered the day she found out her mother died. She'd received an A on her art history test
and
she'd been asked out by Nate, a quiet but cute and smart water polo player. She ran that day too, all the way from her last class to her used Honda Accord hatchback in the parking lot of the high school, then from the street in front of her house to the kitchen, where she was sure she'd find her mother as she always did, preparing that night's dinner. But she wasn't there. Gabriela would find out from a neighbor that her dad had said to meet her at the hospital, that there'd been an accident. Gabriela's heart pounded as she jumped into the driver's seat, not bothering with her seat belt,
racing through red lights, parking in a tow-away zone in front of the emergency room. She'd been just a few minutes too late, her mom dying from injuries sustained in the accident just moments before Gabriela could say good-bye. Her dad was there, tears streaming down his face. Gabriela grabbed her mom's hand, still warm, and kissed it, not knowing how she'd manage a life without her mother, her best friend.

“Please, Peter, don't do it!” Gabriela looked up to see Jessie reach Grant first and stopped in her tracks as she heard Jessie bellow her plea.

Peter and Grant both whipped their heads around in surprise, Jessie's eyes welling with tears as she stood before them, breathing hard. Gabriela ran up beside Jessie and absorbed the scene. Grant's face was unreadable but Peter was stoic. Had Peter already told him?

“What's gotten into you? What don't you want Peter to do?” Grant asked, getting off the stool he was sitting on and approaching Jessie. Jessie stammered a response, but nothing comprehensible came out of her mouth. She looked with pleading eyes to Gabriela, who took a deep breath before speaking.

•  •  •

Claire stared hard at David, suddenly picturing him not as the forty-year-old clean-shaven man with the crewneck sweater standing in front of her, but as the twenty-seven-year-old with the lopsided grin and goatee who smoked Marlboro reds and liked to show off his eagle tattoo on his right arm. They'd met at a bar where he'd been the drummer in a punk band. They'd locked eyes during the performance, Claire's body moving to the beat. And after the set, he'd approached her. He wasn't at all her usual type, but there had been something magnetic in the air between
them. They'd fallen in love hard and fast, and she'd ended up pregnant after just a few months. Looking back, how could she have expected him to be ready to be a father, when she wasn't at all ready to be a mother? He'd never told her he wanted to settle down, and for the most part they'd been careful with birth control. But Claire had been young and stupid and caught up in the way he made her feel, and hadn't thought much when she'd forgotten to take a pill. Missing only one day wouldn't matter, right? Turns out, it did.

As she searched for the right words to explain why she hid his letters from Emily, she wondered why, in this version of their lives, her daughter had discovered them. Had she been so distracted with work that she had been careless when she put the letters away, allowing Emily to find them easily? She wondered now if the universe had been guiding her in that moment. If the powers that be knew she would have never had the courage to let David back into their lives otherwise.

Blair had hinted that having the power to change their lives would improve them. Or had they just assumed that? There wasn't much time to find the answer.

•  •  •

“Jessie! I
told
you not to drink that third martini!” Gabriela blurted as Grant stared at Jessie, confused. “You know you can't handle your alcohol, girl! And everyone knows, one martini is fine, two is pushing it, and three is just asking for trouble,” she added with a high-pitched laugh.

Jessie looked at Gabriela in surprise, then smiled faintly. “Yeah, I should have listened to you,” Jessie replied, and then leaned against Grant. “I'm feeling pretty hammered.”

“Are you sure that's all this is?” Grant gave Jessie a knowing
look. “Because you said you wanted Peter to stop. Stop what exactly?”

“Well,” Jessie stammered again, not wanting to lie, not after all the lies she'd already told. She was done being dishonest. She had to be.

“Peter was just about to tell me a story. One he said I would never believe.”

“Really?” Jessie swallowed hard, forcing herself not to look at Peter and to stay focused on Grant, shocked that Peter chose tonight of all nights to tell Grant the truth about Lucas, with his own wife just across the room. When he'd just assured Jessie yesterday that he wouldn't. She looked at the bar in front of him where a half-empty bottle of whiskey sat and wondered how much he had drunk.

Gabriela stepped closer to Jessie. She shook her head, unable to believe just minutes ago
she
had contemplated telling Grant the truth about Lucas to force Jessie to have to go back to their old lives. It made her feel ill that after so many years of friendship it had even crossed her mind. “Jessie thought Peter was coaxing you into doing shots with him and she didn't want you to get you so drunk you would forget about our surprise. You know how much that girl loves her surprises—remember that time she accidentally found out about the baby shower we were planning for the twins, then bawled for hours because she'd ruined her own moment?” Gabriela locked eyes with Grant, refusing to look away, shocked at how easily the lie slipped from her mouth, and instantly understanding why Jessie had kept the truth from her about Lucas' paternity last time
and
this time. Jessie had been protecting her from having to lie for her. Whether or not Grant was meant to discover the truth this time, Gabriela was certain it wasn't supposed to be from the man Jessie had slept with. From this vantage
point, Gabriela was beginning to see that forces much larger than themselves had been at work during this past year.

“So, let me get this straight. Jessie can have three martinis, but I can't have a few shots? She's never cared how much I drank before,” Grant said to Gabriela, then gave Jessie a long look. “I don't know what's gotten into you two,” he said, nodding at Jessie. “Can I talk to you alone for a second?”

Jessie stiffened as Grant led her toward the house. Gabriela watched Peter as his eyes trailed them. He'd remained quiet during the whole exchange. She kept her eyes on him as he polished off the rest of his drink and poured himself another.

•  •  •

“Gabs?”

Gabriela spun around and threw her arms around Colin. “You came!”

“Of course I did. I said I would.” Colin gave her a puzzled look. “You okay?”

“Not really,” Gabriela answered honestly, thinking about the night so far, all the drama that had unfolded. “I feel like I'm just getting through.”

“Getting through,” Colin repeated thoughtfully. “What's on the other side?”

Gabriela thought for a minute. “The old me. The me that used to get things right. The me that was easier to love.” She'd never been very good at revealing her weaknesses, but she knew she could be leaving in a few hours. And she had just witnessed the damage lies could do to a marriage. So she decided to let herself be vulnerable, finally, hoping she wasn't too late.

“Gabriela, I love
all
versions of you. Granted, some of them a lot more than others,” Colin said, his eyes smiling.

“I
feel like all the good versions are buried so deep I'm not sure I could even find them if I wanted to. Let's face it. I came apart this year and you gave up on us. Not that I blame you. But still.”

Colin ran his hand through his hair. “That's the thing you don't get. I never gave up on you, or us.”

“That's funny. Because I'm not the one who left,” Gabriela said, her tone becoming sharp. The conversation suddenly felt suffocating and she began to walk away. That's what this year had turned her into—a woman who ran away from her own life when it got tough.

Colin grabbed her wrist. “Don't leave. Let's finish this conversation. Please.”

Gabriela nodded, forcing herself to swallow her quick temper.

“Listen. I left because
you
asked me to. We fell apart because
you
refused to accept that getting pregnant might not happen.”

“But you didn't want it to happen,” Gabriela whispered, and let a tear escape from her eye.

“That's bullshit! I'm sorry, but I won't let you tell yourself that anymore. I won't let you blame me anymore. I've tiptoed around you all year because I thought that was the best way to be supportive. But now I realize I did you a huge disservice. I should have told you the truth.”

“And what's that?”

“That maybe we were meant to fail at having a child.”

“How could you say that?”

“Just listen to me, Gabs. You let your obsession with getting pregnant take over every aspect of your life. You let it destroy you. Destroy us. How can that be a good thing?”

Tears began to spill from Gabriela's eyes. She knew he was right. She'd treated her IVF like a battle she could not afford to
lose at any cost, even over her own marriage. With each cycle, she upped the ante, falling further each time it didn't work, until she hit rock bottom. “I'm broken,” she whispered, and burrowed her head into his chest.

Colin wrapped his arms around her. “Let me help put you back together.”

Gabriela pulled back and wiped her nose. “Do you really believe that's possible? Because I was so sure we were meant to be parents. How could I have believed something so strongly and been so wrong about it?”