The Year We Turned Forty (15 page)

BOOK: The Year We Turned Forty
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“I don't think so,” Claire answered. “She was really wrapped up in the baby.”

“I know,” Jessie said as she watched Peter and Cathy get into their black Suburban. “That's what makes me nervous.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Gabriela thumbed mindlessly through an issue of
Good Housekeeping
and waited for her name to be called, her heart thumping so hard she could hear the pounding in her ears. She pressed her thumbs against her temples and breathed in deeply.

“You okay?” Jessie asked, putting her magazine facedown in her lap.

“Yeah, I'm just nervous,” she said as she scanned the waiting room full of women—some with swollen bellies, some without, some with other kids in tow, some young and a few older—like her. “I'm scared they're going to tell me”—she lowered her voice and leaned toward Jessie, who was sitting in the pale green vinyl chair across from hers—“that I'm too old.”

“Don't be ridiculous! If that were the case, I wouldn't have been able to conceive Lucas at thirty-nine! You're only a year older than I was when I got pregnant with him.” Jessie watched a four-year-old come whizzing by, his arms outstretched like an airplane, his mom sternly warning him that he'd better come back and sit down or there would be no ice cream for him after they left.

“Then why hasn't it happened yet?” The circles under Gabriela's eyes looked almost white against her olive skin.

“It will.” Jessie moved into the seat next to Gabriela. “You should focus on the fact that you've been trying, that Colin changed his mind. Didn't you say that in itself is a miracle?”

Gabriela thought back to the day Colin came home early from work, finding her in what had begun to feel like a perpetual haze, staring at her computer screen, silently praying for the words to come. She wished she could have blamed the lure of Facebook or Twitter, but sadly, she didn't even have those distractions.

Colin had swiveled her chair around so she could face him and knelt down on the floor, his hands resting in her lap as he looked up at her. “I've changed my mind,” he said, letting the words linger for a moment, watching as Gabriela processed the sentence she'd waited
years
to hear.

“You want a baby?” she said, tears and quiet laughter mixing together, but fear also lingering as she worried she'd misunderstood, that he was talking about something else.

“Yes,” he'd answered. “I'm sorry it took me so long.”

If you only knew how long it's really been,
Gabriela thought as she hugged him to her chest, knowing instantly that Rowan had talked to him, feeling a sudden love for her mother-in-law she hadn't known was possible, and a slight twinge of regret, wishing she hadn't let her pride stop her from involving her last time.

“Thank you,” Gabriela said, then listened quietly as Colin explained how his mom had sat him down and made him see it in a way he hadn't before. He struggled with the story, obviously feeling bad that his mother had been the one to convince him, not Gabriela. But she didn't care. All she was focused on was that he'd said yes.

They began trying immediately, but after she'd gotten her period for the second month in a row, she looked at the calendar and decided she couldn't waste any more time, that she and Colin should see a reproductive endocrinologist who could tell her if there was something wrong.

Colin had his sperm tested first and, as their doctor put it, he definitely had swimmers that were ready to race. So that had left Gabriela, who needed to undergo blood tests to determine hormone levels and an ultrasound, so any easily identifiable problems with her ovaries, uterus, or fallopian tubes could be ruled out. Then they'd start discussing assisted reproductive technologies. Gabriela had all the terms memorized now, having spent much of the last month studying everything from in vitro fertilization, or IVF, to gestational carriers, scouring message boards where she chatted with women about the best doctors, the latest technologies, staying up until all hours working on her pregnancy when she knew she should be working on her novel. Today she'd find out what this future held, if she'd be able to conceive on her own or if she'd need some help.

“Gabriela?” a nurse called out as she propped the door open with her hip, looking at her clipboard and then at the people in the waiting room.

“Want me to come in with you since Colin's not here yet?” Jessie asked.

“I'm here, I'm here,” Colin said, rushing in just as the nurse called Gabriela's name again. “Thanks for waiting with her, Jessie. It was bumper-to-bumper on the 405!” he said as he loosened his tie and clamped his hand over Gabriela's and walked her toward the nurse. Jessie knew he'd been coming from his law office in Westwood, just fifteen miles away, but with Los Angeles
traffic everything took forever, especially at 4 p.m. She admired him for ducking out of work early, showing that he really was invested in having a baby.

As Jessie watched the door swing shut behind them, she thought about how she'd gone to her first ultrasound appointment for Lucas alone. Grant didn't know she was pregnant and Peter was out of the picture. She'd felt loneliness cover her like a heavy blanket as she'd followed the nurse into a tiny room and was instructed to put on the gown and leave it open in the back. She'd draped the salmon pink quilted paper over her thighs and tried not to cry. Her mind had flashed to the first time she and Grant had seen their twin daughters, just two tiny fetuses floating inside of her, curled around each other. She'd been scared shitless—twins didn't run in either of their families—but also excited to do it with Grant at her side. They were only four years into their marriage and still madly in love.

There was a part of her that went to that appointment alone because she thought the doctor might tell her she'd imagined the whole thing, that the blood test results had been a false positive (she read that could happen) and she would float out of the doctor's office, and the one-night stand with Peter would stay buried deep inside of her where no one would ever find it. But instead, she'd seen the black-and-white image of her baby on the monitor, so tiny, tinier than she'd remembered they could be, and she'd started to cry. It didn't matter who the father was, she had a life growing inside of her.

As Jessie waited for Gabriela, she said a silent prayer for her friend, hoping the doctor was giving her good news, racked with guilt that she'd gotten pregnant so carelessly with a baby that
belonged to the wrong man, while Gabriela was struggling to have a baby she wanted more than anything with the right one.

•  •  •

“I still don't see why we needed to come all the way down here,” Mona complained as Claire pushed the elevator button with more force than was necessary, attempting to stay calm as she shepherded her mom toward Dr. Lee's sterile office. It was just a few miles from where she knew Gabriela was also awaiting critical news, mentally preparing herself for the stiff chairs and nurses to match. But the lack of comfort was nothing compared to how it would feel to sit by her mother
for the second time
as she received her cancer diagnosis.

Before, Mona had dragged her feet for over a year before seeing a doctor, unknowingly letting the disease fester inside her lungs like mold in a damp cellar. After they'd learned she had stage-three lung cancer, Claire and her father had second-guessed the hell out of themselves. They'd all heard the cough. They'd seen her color slowly drain from her face, the weight drop from her frame. But they'd all been too busy with their day-to-day routines to notice that she was literally dying right in front of them from a smoker's disease, even though she'd never held a cigarette to her mouth.

This time, she'd insisted her mom see a doctor, and when she balked, claiming it was probably just a respiratory virus, Claire had picked up the phone and made the appointment herself.

Claire held her tongue as Dr. Lee examined Mona, waiting for the spark of clarity in his eye as he pressed his stethoscope to her chest and listened, watching for the furrow of his brow that would indicate that he suspected this was much more than bronchitis. Claire nearly cried with relief when the doctor
nonchalantly said he'd like to take some X-rays because Mona had mentioned she'd coughed up some blood, knowing from experience that this was a side effect of the disease. If he hadn't, Claire had planned to pull him aside and tell him she suspected lung cancer and that he
had
to order an X ray. She didn't know what she'd say if he questioned her reasoning—obviously not the truth, that she'd already lived this, that she'd already lost her mom once, that she'd do anything for more time with her. Claire prayed that they'd catch it early enough this time, but the unknown kept her up at night as she tossed and turned, fretting that she was too late again.

Mona's death had been long and painful, or at least that was how Claire remembered it, each day feeling as if it were moving in slow motion. Claire had been conflicted toward the end, wanting more time with her mom, but also recognizing how much she was suffering and wanting her pain to be over.

Their relationship had been complicated since Claire was young, even more so after Emily was born. Claire felt the weight of her mother's disappointment. A large sigh when Claire had opted to get a real estate license instead of finishing college. Downcast eyes when Emily's father left. Shaking her head when Emily acted out and Claire seemed unable to calm her. Claire became so used to these subtle gestures that she too saw herself as a failure. It wasn't until the very end of Mona's life that Claire and Mona came together, the shadow of death finally removing the layers of guilt and anger that separated them. Afterward, Claire went to her grave once a week and knelt beside Mona's headstone, sharing stories and asking her for advice, the way she wished she had while she was alive.

As Claire's mom changed back into her clothes, a bittersweet smile formed on Claire's lips. She could say those things
this time
,
while her mom was alive. She had a chance to show her that she was a success, that she was a good mother, that she was a good person. And she sure as hell wasn't going to waste it.

“I can't wait for you to meet Mason!” Claire broke the silence as they made the long walk back to the car. Her mother seemed lost in thought, and Claire wondered if a part of her already knew there was something seriously wrong.

“Tell me about him,” Mona said, seeming genuinely interested.

The corners of Claire's lips lifted involuntarily. She'd forgotten how easy things had been with Mason, how intently he listened when she spoke, even if she was just complaining about a client refusing to accept an offer that was only a few thousand under the asking price or dissecting the convoluted storyline on the latest episode of
Lost
. Or how her stomach did little cartwheels when he woke up and pulled her close to him, planting tender kisses on her neck that she wished would never stop. Claire loved how much he cared about his job as a furniture maker, searching for the perfect wood to create a custom dining room table or shelves for a child's room. She tried to put Jared out of her mind, tried not to think about how she'd burst into tears when he'd asked her to marry him, not sure if her stomach had butterflies because she was excited or scared or maybe a little bit of both. She was realizing that she wasn't completely over Mason, her heart opening for him again reflexively.

She told herself that if she was meant to marry her fiancé, life would lead her back to him, wouldn't it? If she looked for him now, she'd find him living in Anaheim with his first wife and children, the idea that he'd eventually find love with someone else, let alone marry her, the furthest thing from his mind. The timing would be off if she interrupted his life now and she knew
from what had happened to Jessie that if their worlds collided, she could be changing their future together.

“Just be careful,” Mona said as she dug in her purse, pulling out a piece of gum and popping it into her mouth, snapping it loudly as Claire navigated the morning traffic. “You have a daughter to consider.” Before, Claire would have interpreted Mona's warning to mean she didn't think Claire was capable of making good decisions when it came to men. (Which, if she was being totally honest, had always been a little bit true.) Before, Claire's blood pressure would have risen with each smack of Mona's gum until she would eventually explode like a firecracker after the fuse had burned down, attacking her mom with a fierceness that would often dissolve as quickly as it came, but still causing damage that took far longer to heal. They always bounced back, but each argument would take its toll, further widening the gap between them.

Claire understood now that Mona only wanted Claire to be careful. In fact, Claire had said similar things to Emily as she'd gotten older and started dating more seriously, petrified she'd choose a guy like her father, one who'd bail at the first sign of responsibility. But Emily interpreted Claire's concerns as bullets to dodge, as judgment rather than concern. She'd tried to explain to Emily that she meant well, but she'd responded tightly that there was a fine line between care and criticism before hanging up on her. Claire had looked at the phone and laughed, thinking that Mona must be watching down and smiling now that Claire finally understood the complexities of raising a daughter.

“I will be careful,” Claire answered quietly, wishing her mom could know she was trying to make better choices this time. She suspected that if they returned to 2015 on her forty-first birthday, any work would be erased like a chalkboard on the
last day of school. Going back to her old life was still Claire's game plan—even though she'd made mistakes along the way, she didn't want to undo the many great things that came in the years
after
turning forty, like meeting Jared. She hoped Jessie and Gabriela would feel the same way, although she worried with each passing day that they were getting more attached to this life. Gabriela was closer to becoming a mother and Jessie, despite her run-in with Cathy and Peter, was reveling in having Grant back. But Claire knew a lot could happen in ten months, and she just hoped Blair would agree to let her go back on her own if necessary. And that her friends would understand why she wanted to.

BOOK: The Year We Turned Forty
10.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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