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‘That sounds really cute.’
‘And… I found this.’ Before I can stop myself, I’m taking out the fuzzy gray sleepsuit I saw in one of the baby boutiques on Madison Avenue before picking up the rental car. It’s got elephants’ ears lined with pink velveteen. I couldn’t resist.
‘Oh, wow.’ Heather has a slightly funny look on her face as she takes the sleepsuit from me and examines it, her fingers stroking the soft velveteen. I feel like I shouldn’t have brought it out and I fight the urge to snatch it back. Then she looks up and smiles. ‘It’s so sweet.’
‘Thanks.’
She hands it back to me and we stand there awkwardly, both of us trying to smile.
‘Kev’s got a new job,’ Heather says after a few seconds, and by her tone I can tell this is big news.
‘Wonderful. What is it?’
‘He’s selling cellphones. It’s not too bad on his back, working in a store.’
‘That’s fantastic.’ I glance back at Kevin, still slouched in his chair, watching the TV with an avidity that suggests stubbornness or perhaps just determination. ‘Really good news.’
‘It’s been a long time coming,’ she admits in a low voice, so Kevin can’t hear. ‘He was on disability for three years, and then it got cut but he couldn’t go back to his old job, not with his back the way it is. But I guess you know all that, from Tina.’
‘A bit…’
Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears and she blinks them back as she lifts her chin. ‘It’s been really hard, but we’re doing better now. We really are.’
‘Great,’ I say slowly, but a big, gaping hole of dread is opening inside me. What is she telling me? That since they’re doing better they can keep this baby? Surely not? Surely that’s not what this dinner is about?
‘It doesn’t change anything,’ Heather says, as if she can guess my thoughts. She presses her lips together, something shuttering behind her eyes. ‘It’s only part-time. I still need to work.’ She turns to check on the oven yet again. I can’t think of anything to say. To express relief seems cruel, and yet what else am I supposed to feel?
Eventually we eat, the girls all crowded together on one side of the table – dreamy Emma, bossy Amy, baby Lucy. Heather smiles at them all, encouraging Emma to talk, Amy to be quiet, Lucy to eat her dinner. Kevin is mostly silent at the end of the table, and He
ather glances anxiously at him from time to time. In the middle of dinner the phone rings; it’s her sister, and while Heather tries to hurry the call, I can tell they’re close. When she gets off the phone, she apologizes to me and tells Kevin she’s going to stop in to see her parents tomorrow.
It’s all chaotic and crazy and depressingly small, from the ready-made lasagna straight from the freezer section of Stop & Shop to Lucy’s incessant whining and Kevin’s oppressive silence. And yet. And yet, as I pick at my lasagna and listen to the chatter, I realize I am feeling envious of Heather, just as I did before, when I imagined exactly this kind of lovable crazy.
I’m envious of her life, of all the people in it; of the love she so obviously has bubbling up for her family, the love that sustains her through the billows and gales of this stormy season.
And Heather’s daughters clearly adore her, even difficult Amy. Lucy climbs into her lap during dessert and Heather absently strokes her hair. Amy makes a big fuss over not being able to have Sprite instead of milk, but at one point in the evening she leans her head up against Heather’s shoulder and Heather puts her arm around her, the gesture unthinkingly affectionate. Even Kevin puts his arm around her at the end of the meal, murmurs thanks into her ear and Heather smiles, closing her eyes briefly.
Yes, I am envious. I am terribly, chokingly envious. Who is the wealthy woman now? The privileged one, who takes the blessings of her life for granted? Right now it doesn’t feel like it’s me.
Then Kevin retreats to his La-z-Boy and the girls disappear into the bedroom, and Heather and I are left alone. Heather starts clearing the table, and I rise to help her. ‘You don’t have to…’ she protests, and then stops. What else am I going to do? Sit and watch her wait on me?
‘You must be feeling tired,’ I say as I scrape plates into an overflowing trash bin. ‘Are you still working?’
‘Oh yeah. I can’t afford to take any time off. If the baby comes at a good time, I won’t even have to miss a day.’
I am appalled and silent. Not one day? And I thought I worked hard. ‘Do you need anything?’ I ask. ‘Maternity-wise?’ I nod at her outfit. ‘The clothes working out okay?’
‘Oh, yeah. Thanks.’ Heather looks strangely guilty, and I wonder how many of the clothes she’s worn. The black cocktail dress, fun and sexy as it was, was not the most practical purchase for her, and now it makes me feel both stupid and ashamed. I should have let her pick the clothes herself, instead of getting carried away on my own.
‘But do you need anything else?’ I press. I have an urge to give her something. To ease her life, at least a little bit. Money, sadly, is the only thing I have to offer. ‘Some more clothes?’ I suggest. ‘Or… toiletries? Something…?’
Heather hesitates, and I can tell she wants to say yes to something, but she’s too proud.
‘Look, why don’t I just write a check? For whatever extra expenses you might have? It’s easier that way.’
She frowns. ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to do that, not on top of everything else…’
‘It’s fine,’ I assure her, even though I suspect it probably isn’t. But Tina doesn’t need to know. ‘I want to make sure you’re comfortable, that’s all.’ I take out my checkbook, grateful to have something to do.
