Page 58 of Restored Dreams

“I think I must,” I lie. We had our tryst. Now, we move forward. I feel strangely at peace as I watch him kiss my knuckles one more time, stand once again, and then reach for his jacket on the chair where he placed it last night. He doesn’t look back as he descends the steps, and I watch him walk away from me. Again. If only it were so easy to convince my heart I mean what I’ve said.

32

30-day grace period

[Lily]

It’s been a long month since Brut walked out my door. Seven weeks since the vacation. We circle one another without ever crossing paths in our mutual desire to support Chopper. Chopper had some complications at first: reading the will, registering her death, and cleaning out Lauren’s few things. Thankfully, Lauren was renting and had no property to sell. Chopper tossed the few items she owned after asking me if I wanted anything. I didn’t. It was sad to me. Her life was over, the end of her line finished. Chopper denied her in all ways despite the unwanted responsibility she placed on him. There was no trace she ever existed other than him.

I was disappointed in my mother and stepfather although I shouldn’t have been. I’d closed that door so long ago nothing should have surprised me, but the fact they neither came to Lauren’s funeral nor called to offer support astonished me. Who leaves their child like that? But then I reconsider. These people were Lauren’s role models. No wonder she walked away from her own child. I always knew I’d take the opposite road. If I had a baby, I’d never leave him behind.

I need to pee for the millionth time. I tell myself it’s nerves, but in truth, I’m sick. Chills. Nausea. Achy breasts. It’s mid-October, and these symptoms seem typical of a fall cold. My complaints also led Ester to prompt me to go to the doctor. I could have gone to an immedia-care clinic, but I have a suspicion about what my real illness is. Ester did too and bought me a test. Two actually.

I step out of the doctor’s office bathroom, leaving behind the requested urine sample, and return to the waiting room.

“Lily?”

Mother of all things.

“Midge.” My breath exhales after her name. This is not good. I haven’t seen Midge since the funeral.

“What are you doing here?” She beams at me, her skin practically glowing.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to sound chipper like her, but I know her answer.

“I’m pregnant,” she says, stating the obvious. At forty-one, the same age as me, Midge will have her fourth child. I’d be blessed to have one at my age. Tears burn the back of my eyes, and I blink. This is another new development. I’m so emotional lately.

“Are you okay?” Her warm hand comes to mine as I sit next to her.

“I’m not feeling well. I’m just here for a checkup.” It’s not a total lie. On top of all my other symptoms, I seem to have a cold. I sniffle disguising the prickle in my nose.

“This is your OB/GYN?”

I nod, and her fingers tighten around mine.

“Are you pregnant?” My hand comes to my stomach by some strange instinct. I don’t know. I mean, I know. I took the tests, but those can be wrong, right? I’m still in a state of disbelief, but each time I think about it, another emotion occurs. Hope.

A hand covers Midge’s lips, her face glowing brighter. “It’s Brut’s, right?”

Good Lawd.

“Midge, I don’t know.” For a second, I focus on the purple streak in her still auburn hair. It’s long and full looking. I’ve read pregnancy can do that to your hair, thicken it.

“You don’t know if it’s Brut’s?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know if I’m pregnant. I just…” Midge’s probing eyes scan my face. Then leap down to my breasts.

“This isn’t my first time,” she states, hinting at her three boys. “Without being a doctor, I’d have say yes. Yes, you are.”

The tears well again, and I blink rapidly. I’ve been reading up on the risks of pregnancy at an older age. I swallow back a lump in my throat.

“Oh, honey. This is good news, right?”

I twist in my seat, covering Midge’s hand over mine. “Midge, you need to promise me you won’t tell Brut. You won’t intervene. No tricks like the rental.” We still haven’t discussed how Midge and Hank pulled off Brut and me being in the same vacation home. My trip had been planned for months, once Midge told me about the location, but Brut had the time off sprung on him. How had they coordinated everything?

“I don’t know what you mean.” She winks.

“I know you meant well, but Brut and I…it just isn’t meant to be.”