The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay) Page 17

  They both sat back down. Gabby wished they could be anywhere but here.

  “You wear a weird hospital gown and there’s a paper blanket for your lap,” she said. “I can stay in the room, if you want, or wait outside. It’s up to you.” She glanced at the teen only to find her head bent. “Makayla?”

  “You should stay,” the girl whispered. Tears dripped onto her lap.

  Gabby lightly touched her back. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot. The exams get easier, I promise. But the first time, everyone is embarrassed. It’s a strange thing to go through, but we all do it.”

  “Thanks. I know it will be worth it when Boyd and I have our baby.” She sniffed and raised her head. “We’ll be a family.”

  Not anything Gabby wanted to hear.

  One crisis at a time, she told herself. Today she simply had to get Makayla through her first appointment. She would deal with the rest of it later.

  * * *

  Hayley arrived early at Latte-Da. She wanted to be able to pick a good table, one that would allow her to see Rob arrive. She didn’t want to be surprised by having him walk up from behind.

  She ordered a latte at the counter, then took her seat. She pulled out a book so she could pretend to read. As if she were a normal person, doing okay. Just out on a Saturday morning, enjoying herself with a latte and book.

  The truth was very different. She was tired, so desperately tired. How could she sleep when the bed was so empty? Plus she hadn’t been eating very much and without the right nutrition, it was nearly impossible for her body to heal.

  She was a complete and total mess. Without Rob, she had trouble getting through her day.

  Somehow, with all the stress of trying to get pregnant and her miscarriages, she’d forgotten that without her husband, nothing mattered. She’d become so focused on where she was in her cycle, with her drugs, with her ovaries, that she’d lost track of the man she loved. She didn’t know when everything had changed, but it had. She would guess it had happened slowly, over time, but the end result was the same. He was gone and she didn’t know how to get him back.

  She never would have thought it would come to this. When she and Rob had first met, she’d been in her second year of college. She’d been working close to full-time and only taking a couple of classes a semester. She’d planned on being a business major—maybe marketing. She’d gone to a party with a friend and had met Rob.

  It had been one of those things. She’d taken one look at him and had known he was the one. Maybe it had been how he’d smiled at her, or that he was such a sweet guy. Whatever combination of chemistry and conversation, she’d fallen hard.

  She’d been careful to play it as cool as she could. When he’d asked for her number, she’d given it to him without shrieking with excitement. When he’d asked her out, she’d pretended to check her calendar to see if she was free.

  They’d gone out the next night and the next. By their fifth date they were lovers, by their eighth, they’d admitted to being in love. By the end of month two, they were engaged.

  Hayley had dropped out of college. She couldn’t work enough to support herself, go to college and be in love with Rob. There simply weren’t enough hours in the day. So college had been sacrificed so she could work full-time. Six months after the wedding, she’d been promoted to John Eiland’s personal assistant. With that responsibility had come a nice raise.

  She and Rob had started saving for a house right away. They’d had a plan. Three years of marriage, then kids. She’d gotten pregnant the first month they’d tried. They’d both been thrilled and happy. Then she’d lost the baby.

  “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.” Hayley smiled at the teen who brought her the latte. She took a sip, then returned her attention to her book. But instead of words, she saw the empty room at their house. The one they’d been so sure would be a nursery.

  They’d been so happy once, she thought wistfully. Back before they’d realized how hard it was going to be for them to have a child of their own. When they hadn’t known there were problems, that she couldn’t seem to carry a fetus to term. That her eggs weren’t easily harvested—meaning a surrogate wasn’t an option.

  “Hayley.”

  She’d been so caught up in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed Rob approach. Now she looked up and saw him standing next to her small table.

  “Hi. Are you getting a coffee?”

  “I’m good.”

  He sat down across from her.

  He looked the same as he always did. The same haircut, the same glasses. Maybe he looked a little tired—she thought there were shadows under his eyes, but maybe that was just the light in the shop. He didn’t seem happy to see her, but he wasn’t mad, either. At least not that she could tell.

  “What are you reading?” he asked.

  She raised the book so he could see the front cover, mostly because she had no idea what she’d thrown in her bag.

  She hadn’t seen him in nearly two weeks and now that he was here, she didn’t know what to say. “I miss you” was the obvious choice, but was it the right one?

  “How are you?” she asked instead.

  “Busy at work. How about you?”

  “The same.” She picked up her latte, then put it down. “I thought we should talk.”

  “I agree.”

  He was still wearing his wedding ring. That was something. Because she’d been afraid he would take it off. That being married to her didn’t mean anything to him anymore.

  “Where are you staying?” she asked.

  “I’m renting a room. A couple of college kids and me.” He smiled briefly. “I think I cramp their style, but the check clears so they put up with it.”

  “You could come back,” she whispered. “I miss you. Us. We could see a counselor or something. If that would help.”

  His gaze was steady as he listened to her. When she was done, he leaned toward her. “I love you, Hayley. More than you know. I miss you, too. I want to come home. It’s where I belong.”

  Some of her tension eased. “That’s wonderful. So come home.”

  “Have you talked to the doctor?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have you scheduled your surgery?”

  “No. Of course not. I can’t do that.” She leaned toward him. “Rob, please understand. I have to do this. I have to try. A baby is everything to me. You’ve always known that.”

  “I have.”

  “Then you know how wonderful it will be when we have a family of our own. You want that, too.”

  “I want you more.” His mouth turned down at the corners and sadness filled his eyes. “You’re still planning on going to Switzerland for treatment.”

  He wasn’t asking a question, but she answered anyway. “Yes. As soon as I can raise the money.” She reached for his hand. “I want you to be a part of that. I want—”

  He pulled free and rose. “Goodbye, Hayley.”

  With that, he turned and walked away. She was left with her cooling coffee and a book she knew she could never, ever read.

  * * *

  “You look beautiful, Mommy,” Kenzie said.

  Gabby turned back and forth, letting the full skirt flow around her. “I am a princess,” she said dramatically. “You servant girls, do my bidding. You there.” She pointed at Boomer. “Fetch my carriage.”

  The long-suffering dog, dressed in a ridiculous yellow-and-purple-striped jacket, wagged his tail. The twins collapsed onto the floor in a fit of giggles. Jasmine, sensing trouble, had fled long before the dress-up party had gotten started. Gabby would guess the feline had safely hidden under the king-size bed in the master, where she would stay until things quieted down.

  It was late afternoon on Friday. Andrew was taking Makayla to her mothe
r’s for the weekend. Candace knew he had something to discuss but didn’t know the topic. Gabby tried not to imagine how the conversation was going. Andrew would share all when he got home.

  She secured the “tiara of power” more firmly on her head and pointed at Kennedy. “You will quack like a duck,” she said imperiously.

  Kennedy sat up and made the appropriate noise. Kenzie joined in and Boomer bayed. Her bidding completed, Gabby took off the tiara and passed it to Kennedy.

  “I yield my princessness to you.”

  And so it went. Everyone got a turn being the princess and bossing the other two around. A little before five, Gabby ushered the girls out of the playroom and into their bathroom.

  “Hands washed,” she said briskly. “Hair brushed and then we’re off.”

  A very brave Ellie Davidson from the summer camp was having four girls over for dinner. Gabby had no idea why. Lunch, sure. An afternoon birthday party, yes. But dinner? Late in the day meant tired kids. There was more potential for disaster. But she hadn’t been consulted. When the invitation had come, the girls had been excited to get it.

  Twenty minutes later they were walking the three blocks to their friend’s house. Kenzie and Kennedy each had a small gift bag in their hands.

  “It’s nice to take something to the hostess,” Gabby explained. “To thank her for the invitation. Adults bring flowers or wine. Sometimes a dessert. We could have chosen hair ribbons or a book.”

  “Mrs. Davidson will like the cookies,” Kennedy said. “They were delicious.”

  Gabby only had their word to go on. Despite the ongoing Makayla crisis, she’d been faithful to her diet. According to her scale, she was down nearly eight pounds. A fantastic victory. She’d been attending classes at Nicole’s studio twice a week and eating way more vegetables than a biped should. She was a little less crabby than she had been at the beginning, but just as hungry. Still, she was seeing results and that was what mattered.

  She was waiting to go clothes shopping until the week before she started work. Hopefully she would be in a smaller size by then.

  They arrived at their friend’s house. Gabby had the girls ring the bell, then they waited to be invited in. She greeted Mrs. Davidson, confirmed the pickup time and that she had Gabby’s cell number, then left the twins to play.

  The late afternoon was still sunny and warm. She could smell food grilling, which made her stomach growl. She and Andrew had a couple of steaks ready for their own dinner and she’d prepared a big salad earlier. Since it was Friday, she was going to allow herself a glass of wine. Just one. And no dessert. Talk about grim.

  But thoughts of hunger and dieting faded when she rounded the corner and saw Andrew’s car in the driveway. She hurried the last few yards home.

  “I’m back,” she called.

  “In the kitchen.”

  She found Andrew by the island, pouring himself a glass of scotch. He looked tired.

  “How did it go?” she asked.

  “Candace doesn’t disappoint,” he told her as he held up the bottle of red wine she’d left on the counter.

  She nodded. “In a good way or a bad way?”

  “It’s Candace.”

  “So bad.”

  “She swore. She blamed us. She swore some more. She talked about how disappointed she was, how she didn’t have time for this. Pretty much what we expected.”

  Andrew didn’t look at her as he spoke. Gabby knew that his attention on opening the bottle of wine was a lot more about what he didn’t want to say.

  She knew Candace well enough to fill in the details. There had been no “we” in the conversation. Candace would have put the blame squarely on Gabby’s shoulders. There would have been talk about irresponsible and inadequate supervision and how Makayla needed a better role model.

  Candace hadn’t liked her from the start and Gabby had never been sure as to why. She and Andrew hadn’t met until after his divorce was final. Even if she had known him before, Candace had been the one to end the marriage, not him. While Gabby was a few years younger, Candace was by far more glamorous and beautiful. She had a fantastic career, lots of friends, plenty of travel. Yet Candace had always been condescending and difficult.

  “I’m sorry she was a pain.”

  “Me, too.” He handed her the glass of wine. They went out onto the patio. “What a week.”

  They sat next to each other on the love seat. Andrew toasted her, then sipped his drink.

  “I don’t know how much Makayla heard,” he continued.

  “Even if she didn’t, she can guess all the things her mother would say. I wish Candace could be more supportive.”

  “You and me, both. I’m glad Makayla is living with us and not her. We’ll make sure things go smoothly through the pregnancy and after.”

  Gabby nodded. The adoption was going to take a lot of planning. She’d done some online research and it seemed that they could pull it all together in a few months. With the teen still convinced she and Boyd were in love, this wasn’t the time to bring up the various options, but they would have to have that conversation soon.

  “Once the baby is born,” she said, “life can return to relative normal.”

  “There will have to be some changes.” Andrew looked at her. “More rules. I need to listen to you more.”

  She smiled. “Yes, you do. Makayla’s a great kid, but she still needs to have boundaries. No more sex with boys.”

  He chuckled. “Is this where I say something about too little too late?”

  “Maybe, but I still think it’s a good rule.” An unrealistic one, but for that moment it was nice to think they could actually have that much control.

  There were going to be lots of discussions and decisions, she thought. Did they put Makayla on birth control? She wouldn’t even be sixteen when the baby was born. What a nightmare. She wanted to ask how this had happened, but they all knew the answer to that.

  “Have you heard from Boyd’s parents?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Me, either. I can’t help thinking that’s not a good thing.”

  “Yeah.” He leaned back against the cushions. “We should look into counseling. This is going to be stressful for all of us. I don’t want to screw up and I don’t want you getting too stressed out.”

  Which was one of the reasons she loved him so much, she thought. “Counseling is a very good idea. I’ll ask around and get some recommendations.”

  He grinned at her. “Are you saying some of your friends are crazy?” He held up a hand. “That’s humor, Gabby. I know going to counseling is a good thing.”

  “I accept the comment in the spirit in which it was delivered. As for being crazy, I think we all have a little bit of that in us.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hayley stood in the small, empty bedroom. The walls were painted a pale yellow, with white trim. They’d replaced the carpeting with hardwood because it was easier to keep clean without harsh chemicals. She’d been four months along when she’d miscarried the first time so they hadn’t had time to get serious about buying furniture. There was only the empty room and the painted walls.

  She crossed to the closet and opened the door. There weren’t any baby clothes, no stacks of impossibly small linens. No miniature blankets or sheets. Just an old scrapbook—the one her mother had put together for her.

  Now she got it down and walked to the patch of sunlight in the corner and sank to the floor. She sat cross-legged, the book resting on her legs.

  She and Rob had talked endlessly about their baby those first few months. They’d debated names and talked about the merits of different types of cribs. They’d touched tiny bootees and had tried to imagine the glory of holding a child of their own.

  All that had ended with the first unexpected cramps.


  She’d been at work when the miscarriage had started. At first she’d thought she was having some kind of stomach flu. But when she’d gone to the bathroom, there had been spotting. The spotting had turned into a flood of blood and by the time she’d gotten to her gynecologist’s office, the baby was already gone.

  She remembered the devastation. How Rob had held her and they’d cried together. It had taken weeks for the emptiness to go away. Her parents had still been alive then and her mom had come to stay with her. She’d miscarried before, so she understood how horrible it was. How people said foolish things like “Oh, it happens to everyone,” or “It’s nature’s way of taking care of a problem.”

  Fuck that, Hayley had thought. She didn’t want to think her baby had been a problem. It hadn’t been. Her baby had died. And it didn’t happen to everyone. It didn’t happen to most women. She didn’t want platitudes, she wanted revenge.

  Her mom had promised it would get better and although Hayley and Rob hadn’t believed her, over time, the wound had scabbed up. It had never gone away, but they’d been able to move forward. To try again. It was only after the second miscarriage that they’d started to realize something else was going on.

  Now on that hard floor, with the sun warming her back, she opened the scrapbook and saw the announcement of her birth. Well, not her birth, exactly. The announcement of her going home with her parents. There was a picture of her dad holding her, then one of her mom doing the same. There were a few handwritten notes about what they’d each been feeling. And a letter from her mom.

  My Dearest Hayley,

  There are no words to describe my joy in bringing you home. It’s been ten days and I still can’t believe you’re here and you’re ours. Every night I wake up two and three times to check on you. To stand in your room and listen to you breathing. You are so perfect. Everything about you is wonderful. Your father and I love you so much. We will always love you, dearest daughter. You are our miracle.

  She traced her finger along the letters. She hadn’t been their miracle for long, she thought. A few months later, her mother had found out she was pregnant. And this pregnancy had gone to term. Morgan had been born less than a year after they’d brought Hayley home. Morgan, who had been a crying, colicky baby. Morgan who had grown into a difficult toddler and a loud, pushy little girl.