Baby Under The Mistletoe

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SOLEIL PEERED at the of purple paint, trying to decide if the wall needed a fourth coat. Was it her imagination, or was there still the faintest bit of white showing through?

She couldn’t know because she’d been staring at the nursery walls so long, she was nearly cross-eyed.

The sound of the doorbell jarred her out of her puzzlement, and she muttered a curse as she put the paint roller in the pan and headed downstairs.

If it was her mother again, she was going to scream.

But when she opened the door, she found Julia, holding a huge gift basket full of baby things.

“Hi,” Soleil said. “What are you-”

“I’m sorry to drop by like this. I talked to West, and he told me about you two…and I felt so bad. This didn’t seem like a conversation to have over the phone.”

“It’s okay, come in,” Soleil said, her stomach knotting at the mention of West and what he must have told his mother.

That she was evil. That she’d broken his heart. That she’d ruined their baby’s chance to have a nuclear family because she was too much of a selfish, feminist, career-obsessed shrew.

“This is for you.” Julia handed Soleil the basket after she closed the door.

“You really shouldn’t have. Thank you.”

“I couldn’t resist. Now that we know it’s a girl-Oh, Lord, the cute baby-girl stuff out there!”

Soleil smiled. “This is so generous of you. I was just painting the nursery. Would you like to see it?”

“I’d love to.”

Soleil led her up the stairs. When they reached the nursery, she set the basket inside the crib and turned back to Julia.

“So this is it.”

“The color is beautiful. It’s like being inside a jewel.”

“It’s really peaceful, isn’t it? I thought with all the light this room gets, it could handle a dark color.”

“And this crib!”

“West and I picked it out.”

Julia put a hand over her mouth as she admired the mahogany woodwork. Then her expression turned pained as she looked back to Soleil.

“I want you to know that you’re family-we’re family. Whatever has happened between you and West, I know it’s not my business.”

Soleil nodded. “Thank you for saying that.”

“It’s hard raising a baby on your own. I never really had to do it, but I did endure a lot of long deployments being a military wife-sometimes a year at a time-so I know how lonely it can be, and I want to be here for you.”

“That’s very kind of you-”

“I’m not just saying it, Soleil. I’m very serious. I want to be a big part of the baby’s life, if you’ll allow me to be.”

“Of course I will. You’ll be her grandmother.”

Crazy, crazy, crazy, how life twisted and turned. A year ago, Julia was simply a kindly older woman in Soleil’s book group. Now she was someone Soleil would depend upon greatly.

Julia was studying her, looking thoughtful. “I’m not sure if you know this about West, but he tries more than anyone else I know to do the right thing.”

“That’s an admirable trait,” Soleil said evenly, not wanting to get into a discussion of West with his own mother.

Not now, especially.

“I know this is awkward, and I’m not trying to defend him for whatever he’s done to keep the two of you apart, but do keep in mind that his heart is in the best possible place.”

Tears pricked Soleil’s eyes unexpectedly. She nodded, unable to speak without her voice cracking.

Julia gave her a hug and a reassuring pat on the back, and Soleil was grateful for the moment to recover.

Why she was feeling so emotional now, she couldn’t say. Maybe it was hormones, or the impending holidays, or the sadness of knowing she wasn’t going to be able to give her baby the nuclear-family ideal that, for a moment or two, she’d allowed herself to believe might really happen.

Maybe it was more about what she’d secretly longed for as a child, rather than whatever her own child might or might not desire.

“How about a cup of tea?” she finally said, her tone light in a way she hoped didn’t sound too forced.

“I’d love that.”

The two women went to the kitchen, and Soleil put on the kettle.

“Is chamomile okay?”

“Perfect,” Julia said as she walked around the kitchen, smiling at what she saw. “This is such a beautiful, cozy place you have.”

“Oh, thanks, I haven’t changed it much. It’s mostly how my grandparents had it, minus the frumpy curtains and stained recliner chair.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “What is it with men and those recliners?”

“I’m surprised my grandfather didn’t take his to the grave with him.”

“Of course not. That would have kept future generations from enjoying it,” Julia said, laughing, as she sat at the kitchen table.

“How’s it going at your ex-husband’s house? I mean, your taking care of him-is it working out okay?”

“It’s…sort of working. I got into an argument about it with West the other day. He doesn’t want me to be there.”

“Must be hard seeing your ex-husband in the state he’s in.”

“It is hard. I don’t think West understands how hard it really is for me, or why I feel responsible for taking care of John now.”

“Why do you?”

She smiled in such a way that it looked as if she was about to frown, and she shook her head. “Because, for a big part of my life, I expected to. Some wedding vows are harder to break than others.”

“Do you ever want to remarry, or have another partner?” Soleil asked, curious about Julia’s real life, the one she didn’t reveal to her son. There had to be more to the woman than the perfect facade suggested.

“Perhaps, if the right person came along.”

The kettle began to whistle. Soleil retrieved it and poured them each a cup of tea, then returned to the table with the cups.

Julia fiddled with the tea-bag string, looking as though she had something to say, but for a while saying nothing. Then, finally, “Can I tell you a rather embarrassing secret?”

“Of course, if you want to.” If Soleil wasn’t mistaken, she’d swear Julia was blushing now.

“Have you ever seen those online-dating sites? The ones with the pictures and personality descriptions and all that?”

“Sure, who hasn’t?”

“I met a man through one of those sites.”

“Julia! That’s great. Who is he?” The whole idea of West’s mom online dating was so incongruous with Soleil’s image of her, she could hardly wrap her mind around it.

“His name is Frank, and he’s retired, working as an artist now. He owns a little gallery in Guerneville, too.”

“Is that where he lives?”

Julia nodded.

Soleil leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table, smiling to indicate she wanted every juicy detail.

“And? Are you two dating? In love? What?”

“No, none of that. The truth is…We e-mailed, and we talked on the phone, and we met a couple of times and I really liked him, but…”

“You lost your nerve?”

She nodded.

“I think it’s so brave of you to try something new, put yourself out there. My own mom has just given up on ever having a relationship again because she’s too disillusioned. But look at you-online dating. That’s the best thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

“Oh, it’s completely ridiculous. Someone my age creating a dating profile. It’s humiliating is what it is.” She was shaking her head, staring at her cup of tea as if she couldn’t even bear to meet Soleil’s eyes.

“No, no, no. You’ve got it all wrong. You’re applying old-fashioned notions about dating to the contemporary world, and the truth is, everything’s changed. None of those old rules apply.”

Julia looked doubtful. “You’re very sweet to say that, but…”

“How did you leave things with Frank?”

“I’ve ignored all his e-mails and phone calls since our first date.”

“Why don’t you call him and explain you had a case of nerves but that now you’re ready to see him again?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that simple. I…when I heard about John being sick, and needing someone to take care of him…”

“You felt guilty for having fun?”

“I couldn’t let myself be with Frank. It’s hard to explain. I guess, when I was with John, I always imagined us taking care of each other in our old age…”

“It’s incredibly generous of you to help the way you have,” Soleil said, but something shifted inside her. Some essential piece of her well-being had gotten knocked out of place by Julia’s comment, and she felt suddenly uncomfortable.

“Sometimes, I don’t know if I’m being generous or stupid.”

She forced herself to set aside her own discomfort and focus on Julia’s problem.

“John is lucky to have you in his life, but you shouldn’t stop living your own life in order to help him, you know.”

Soleil took a sip of her tea and savored the almost-sweet taste of the chamomile, as the aroma itself had an instant calming effect.

“It was too much to take in all at once-John’s illness, the stress of dating someone new. I suppose I’m getting to be a bit of an old dog who-”

“Oh, stop it! You’re one of the most vibrant, active people I know. You accomplish more than ten people on most days. It was perfectly normal for you to freak out over a first date, though. When’s the last time you dated someone?”

Julia flashed a self-deprecating smile, then winced. “I haven’t really dated in, maybe, eight years. I saw a man briefly, a few years after my divorce, until things fizzled out, but other than that, no one.”

“No wonder you’re scared. You haven’t been on the dating scene since your early twenties, and you introduce yourself to it with online dating? How did that happen?”

“I accidentally clicked on one of those darned pop-up ads while trying to make it go away.”

Soleil couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud.

“Well, good for you,” she said.

Julia rolled her eyes. “And I went and blew it my first time out. Frank must hate me.”

“I doubt it. If he’s a decent guy, he knows how hard it is to find a woman like you. I bet he’d be thrilled to hear from you again.”

“You really think so?”

Soleil placed her hand on top of Julia’s on the table, and said, dead serious, “Do me a favor? Call that man and apologize. Make a date with him, okay?”

The older woman looked doubtful, but she finally said, “I do owe him an apology. Maybe if he’s open to it-”

“He will be.”

“But what man is going to understand that I have to be my ex-husband’s full-time caregiver?”

She squeezed Julia’s hand then. “You don’t have to be. In fact, I don’t think you should be. I think it’s going to eat you alive emotionally.” Soleil normally tried not to be so meddlesome, but this one time, she felt as though she needed to speak the truth.

“Someday you’ll understand-”

“I do understand, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t be there for him at all. I only mean, the job you’re taking on is too big for any one person to handle. You need to step aside and let your sons be responsible for providing their dad’s primary care.”

Julia shook her head. “They’ve all got their own lives, and they’re all so busy-”

“They’ll figure it out. You giving up your life isn’t the right solution. Maybe they’ll find a trustworthy male caregiver who John won’t be able to bully so easily. And you could visit a few times a week if you want, or lend a hand here and there, but really, Julia-”

“Now isn’t the time for me to play the martyr, is it?”

Soleil shook her head, relieved her message was being heard and not dismissed.

“Thank you,” Julia said quietly, sliding her hand out from under Soleil’s and giving it a soft pat. “I came here to offer you help, and you helped me instead.”

“It was nothing. I’m always happy to talk over tea.”

“I’ve got an appointment, so I’d better get going, but I’m so glad we talked,” Julia said, standing up.

Soleil followed her to the door, each step closer to being alone again reminding her of the way she’d felt a few minutes ago, when Julia was talking about caring for her husband in old age.

They said their goodbyes, and Soleil closed the door, watching through the window as Julia went to the car and drove away.

Now the house was completely silent, save for the sound of the ticking antique clock in the living room.

Tick, tick, tick…

Julia’s absence left a gaping hole that was sucking Soleil toward everything she didn’t want to feel.

She walked upstairs to the baby’s room, hoping to distract herself with one final coat of paint. Physical activity would make her feel better, keep her mind off negative thoughts…

In the purple room with the empty crib and the basket of baby gifts, she was sure she’d feel soothed. This was the safe haven she was creating for her baby. This would be the scene of countless happy hours in her future.

Just her and the baby.

Together.

Alone.

They’d have each other, but…

She recalled what Julia had said, about ties that couldn’t be undone, and the ache within her grew more and more unbearable until she couldn’t help but cry.

She sat in the middle of the hardwood floor, put her face in her hands and cried for what she didn’t have.

A partner, a lover, a father, a friend.

A family.

Sure, she and her baby would make a family, and they would love each other. But it would be lonely the same way her own childhood had been lonely, and someday she’d be bitter and alone, the way her mother was bitter and alone.

Yes, she was on the road to becoming her mother, when what she really wanted was to be more like Julia, warm and open and loving.

She was exactly like her mother, whom she couldn’t even share a house with, without having a major fight.

Was she dooming her poor baby girl to the same fate, by not being able to break out of her mother’s mold?

She was crying so hard drool formed a long ribbon from her lower lip to the top of her pregnant belly, and she felt more pathetic than she ever had in her life.

She was alone, feeling sorry for herself, and utterly pathetic.

All she needed now was a whiskey bottle and a penchant for angry poetry, and she could change her name to Anne Bishop Junior.