Authors: Danielle Steel
“What about you two?” Adam teased him, since everyone else was getting married. “When are you going to tie the knot?”
“Never!” they both said in unison, and everybody laughed again.
“You should do it in Portofino next summer, where you met,” Charlie suggested.
“We're too old to get married,” Sylvia said convincingly. She had just turned fifty, three days after Gray turned fifty-one. “And we don't want babies.”
“That's what I thought too,” Adam said sheepishly, with a grin and a loving glance at Maggie. She'd been feeling better for the past few days.
“No wonder you got seasick on the boat,” Charlie said as he figured it out.
“Yeah, I guess,” Maggie said shyly. “I didn't know then.”
They were a congenial group and toasted each other liberally all evening. As usual, the men drank too much. And given the occasion, the women made no attempt to keep them in control. It was all in good fun. They drank an impressive amount of very fine French wine.
By the time they left each other at the end of the evening, plans were made, dates were set. Everyone had made note of the date of Charlie and Carole's wedding, Maggie had shared her due date, and they were all set for the
Blue Moon
on August first, as always. Life was sweet. And good times were ahead.
29
A
FTER MUCH DEBATE, IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT IT WAS
Carole's second wedding, and Charlie's first, she acceded to her parents' wishes, and they got married at St. James. It was a small, elegant, and formal event. Charlie got married in white tie and tails. Carole asked Sylvia to be her matron of honor, and Maggie to be her bridesmaid. Carole wore a simple but elegant gown in the palest mauve, and lily of the valley in her hair. She carried a bouquet of white orchids and roses. She looked absolutely regal as she came down the aisle on her father's arm. Gray and Adam were Charlie's best men. After the ceremony, all two hundred guests attended the reception at the New York Yacht Club. The wedding was as traditional as possible, except for the flock of children from the center who came, with Tygue and a handful of volunteers to keep them in control. Gabby and Zorro were there, of course, and Carole had hired a group of fabulous gospel singers from Harlem. The dance band played until three A.M.
Carole had done the seating of all the tables herself, and even her parents looked as though they had a good time. Charlie danced with Mrs. Van Horn after he danced with the bride, and Carole danced with her father. Unlike most weddings, there wasn't an army of unwanted relatives there. In fact, other than her parents, there were none. They were surrounded by their friends.
Sylvia looked beautiful in a lilac gown that she and Carole had chosen together at Barney's. She carried lilacs and tiny white roses. It had been more challenging to find something for Maggie to wear. They had finally settled on an evening gown that was somewhere in color between Sylvia's lilac and Carole's pale mauve. It was lavender, and she carried lavender roses. By the day of the wedding, the dress was so tight she could hardly breathe. The baby was huge, but she looked beautiful anyway. She had youth and motherhood on her side, even though she looked like she could hardly move.
Carole said she had a fabulous time at her wedding, and she looked as though she did. She danced with Charlie, Adam, Gray, Tygue, some of her old friends, but most of the night with Charlie. Everyone agreed they had never seen a happier couple in their lives. They ate and danced and laughed all night.
The music was so good that even the Van Horns couldn't stay off the dance floor. Sylvia and Gray did a tango that put everyone else to shame. And Adam couldn't keep Maggie down. Every time he turned around, she was dancing with someone else, at arm's length of course. In order to keep track of her, he finally kept her on the dance floor with him. She never sat down. She was having a lot of fun. She danced and danced and danced. And when she finally sat down at the end of the evening, she told Adam she couldn't tell what hurt more, her back or her feet.
“I told you not to overdo it,” he scolded her.
“I'm fine.” She grinned at him. “The baby's not due for two weeks.”
“Don't count on it, if you keep dancing like that. I don't know how a woman who's eight and a half months pregnant can look sexy, but you do.” They were among the last to leave.
Carole had thrown her bouquet by then, straight at Sylvia, who caught it with a groan. Charlie and Carole were staying at her place that night, and leaving to meet the boat in Monte Carlo the next morning. They were taking the boat to Venice for a three-week honeymoon. She was nervous about leaving the center, but Tygue had agreed to run it while she was gone.
The last of the guests threw rose petals at the bridal couple as they got into the car and drove away, and Adam helped Maggie into their rented limousine. She couldn't get in and out of the Ferrari anymore.
She was yawning as they rode up in their elevator, and for once she was asleep before Adam. She had totally worn herself out, and looked like a small mountain as she lay beside him. He kissed her cheek and her stomach, and turned off the light. Cuddling these days was more of a challenge. He went right to sleep, thinking of his friend's wedding, and was in a deep sleep two hours later, at five o'clock in the morning, when Maggie poked him.
“…Mmm… what?”
“I'm having the baby,” she whispered to him, in a voice that was slightly panicked. He was too tired to wake up. Like everyone else at the wedding, he had enjoyed the unlimited torrent of great wine. “Adam… sweetheart… wake up….” She tried to sit up in bed butwas having too many contractions. She poked him again with one hand. She was holding her enormous belly with the other.
“Ssshhhh… I'm sleeping…go back to sleep …” he said, and turned over. She tried to take his advice, but she could hardly breathe. It was getting scary and it was happening so fast.
It was nearly six when she not only poked him but shook him, and by then she was having to pant through the pains. Nothing was working. It hurt too much.
“Adam… you have to wake up …” She couldn't get out of bed, and she tried to move him, but he blew her a kiss and slept on.
It was six-thirty when she finally pounded on him and shouted his name. That time he woke up, with a start.
“What? What?” He picked up his head and set it back down on the pillow just as fast. “Oh shit … my head …” And then he looked at her. Her face was contorted in pain. And headache or not, he woke up. Fast. “Are you okay?”
“No… I'm not….” She was crying by then, and shecould hardly talk. “I'm having the baby, Adam, and I'm scared.” By the time she finished her sentence, she was having a contraction again. The pains were running right into each other and never stopped.
“Okay. Give me a minute. I'll get up. Don't be scared. Everything's fine.” He knew he had to get out of bed and put on his pants, but his head felt like cement.
“It's not fine… I'm having the baby… now!”
“Now?” He sat bolt upright and looked at her.
“Now!”
She was crying.
“You can't be having the baby now. It's not due for two weeks… dammit, Maggie…I told you not to dance so much.” But she was beyond hearing him. She looked at him with wild eyes, and he jumped out of bed.
“Call 911!” she panted at him through the contractions.
“Oh shit… okay….” He called them, while hewatched her. She was starting to push. He told the operator at 911, and they said they'd send the paramedics right away, unlock the front door, stay with her, and tell her to blow, not push.
He did what they said, and told Maggie to blow, not push, and she was screaming at him through the contractions. There was no time in between anymore.
“Maggie… come on, baby… please… blow! Blow! Don't push!…”
“I'm not pushing, the baby is,” she said, making a terrible face, and then she screamed a bloodcurdling scream. “Adam! He's coming out …” He was holding her legs and watching their son come into the world as the paramedics arrived. The baby had delivered itself, and Maggie lay breathless against the pillows as Adam held him. As they looked at him, they both cried.
“Nice job!” the head paramedic said, as he took over from Adam and another one cleaned the baby up, and put it on Maggie's stomach. Adam was looking at them both in wonder, and couldn't stop crying. Maggie was smiling and peaceful as they covered her, as though nothing had happened. They cut the cord then, and the baby looked at him as though they had seen each other somewhere before.
“Does the young man have a name?” the second paramedic asked.
“Charles Gray Weiss,” Adam said, looking adoringly at his wife.
“You were fantastic!” he whispered to Maggie, as he knelt on the floor close to her head.
“I was so scared,” she said softly.
“And I was so drunk.” Adam laughed. “Why didn't you wake me sooner?”
“I tried!” She was smiling and holding their baby.
“I promise, next time you talk to me when I'm falling asleep, I'll listen.”
The ambulance was waiting for them downstairs, but before they left, they called Carole and Charlie. They woke them up and told them that the baby had been born, and they were thrilled to hear it. They had to get up early anyway to leave for Monaco that morning.
Adam called Jacob and Amanda from the hospital, and the doctor let Maggie and the baby come home that night. They were both fine, and she wanted to be home with Adam. Maggie said it had been the most beautiful day of her life. The baby was perfect.
As Adam drifted off to sleep that night, with the baby in his bassinet next to them, Maggie poked him, and he gave a start and sat straight up and looked at his wife.
“What? Are you okay?” He had kept his promise. He was wide awake.
“I'm fine. I just wanted to tell you I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said, as he sank back into bed and pulled her closer. “I love you a lot, Maggie Weiss.” He smiled as he fell asleep, and so did she.
30
E
VERYONE BOARDED
THE
B
LUE
M
OON
ON
A
UGUST
first, as planned. Maggie and Adam brought their baby and a nanny, as Charles had invited them to do. They started in Monte Carlo, as they always did, gambled for a night, moved on to St. Tropez, and when they'd had enough of it, left for Portofino. The girls shopped, the men drank, they all swam, they walked in the piazza at night, and ate gelato. They danced in the discothèques, and between outings and meals, Maggie nursed her baby. He was two months old on the day they left, had big bright eyes, and a sturdy little body. He was blond like Maggie.
On the morning after they arrived in Portofino, Sylvia and Gray walked up to the Church of San Giorgio, and that night they all had dinner in the restaurant where they'd met. They had just come back from a trip with her kids, and this time Gray was more relaxed. He and Emily had talked about painting techniques, and he and Gilbert had truly become friends. Sylvia had been right, he admitted to Charlie, she had great kids. “She was right about a lot of things,” he confessed to his friend. The others toasted them that night. It was the one-year anniversary of the day they'd met.
“I still think the two of you should get married,” Adam said as they opened another bottle of wine. They'd been living together officially for seven months. Sylvia said that wasn't long enough to count. They'd only known each other for a year. The others hooted and jeered, Charlie and Carole had dated for eight months before they got married, and Adam and Maggie for four. And everything seemed fine. Better than fine. They were the happiest they'd ever been, all four of them.
“We don't need to get married,” Sylvia insisted, and Gray laughed at her and told her she sounded like him when he was afraid to meet her kids.
“I don't want to screw up a good thing,” she said softly.
“You won't,” Charlie said. “And Gray's a good man.”
“I wouldn't even think about it for another year,” she said blithely.
“Fine,” Adam said. “We'll be back here next year, same time. Let's see what you do then.” The others toasted them again.
31
T
HE DAY WAS INCREDIBLY HOT AND THE SKY PERFECTLY
blue. If you stopped talking, you could hear insects and birds. There wasn't a cloud in the sky as the ragtag group made their way up the hill. It was almost too hot to move, and it was only eleven o'clock in the morning.
A woman in a white eyelet peasant skirt and a full-sleeved white blouse was carrying a bouquet of red roses, and wearing red sandals. She was wearing an enormous straw hat, and an armful of turquoise bracelets. Beside her, there was a man in white trousers and a blue shirt, with a mane of white hair. And behind them, two couples, both women heavy with child.
All six of them walked into the Church of San Giorgio in Portofino. The priest was waiting for them there. It was her second marriage, but she hadn't been married in the church before, and he had never been married at all.
The bride and groom stood at the altar, looking solemn as the priest had them exchange their vows, and their four friends looked on. When the priest told the groom he could kiss the bride, the groom cried.
Sylvia and Gray turned to their friends then. Maggie and Carole were both pregnant. Charlie and Adam looked proud, not just of the women they had married, but of their two friends who had done it at last. They stood talking in the church for a long time, lit some candles, then walked slowly down the hill again, and stopped in the piazza. Sylvia and Gray were holding hands.
They had their wedding lunch in the restaurant where they'd met two years before, to the day. It had been a long time and a long journey for all six of them. They had come far and done well, and had been blessed to find each other.
“To Sylvia and Gray and a lifetime of happiness!” Charlie toasted them, and then looked at his wife. Their baby was due in December, their first. Maggie and Adam's second was due in October, two years after their life together began.