Driving Lessons: A Novel (20 page)

BOOK: Driving Lessons: A Novel
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“This feels nice,” whispered Mona.

“Mo, is this—is this okay? Are you sure? We can change the plan and go out; Kate and Ben will understand.”

“Shhhh. He’s almost asleep, I think.” She shifted slightly to answer me. “It was pretty silly of me to think that I could hang out with Franklin and not feel sad, I suppose.” She sighed before continuing. “But what can we do? I’m here, and that’s it. I mean, what do I expect? To just not see babies until I feel emotionally ready?”

“I know, but still. I brought you right into the belly of the beast.”

“No, you didn’t. I came willingly.” She readjusted him gently. “You know, before I had the operation, I would close my eyes at night and see cancer. Those little flashes of light when you close your eyes tightly? To me, that was the cancer inside my body. Now those flashes of light are just flashes of light.”

“That’s great,” I said. “Less scary.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Mona, I’m in awe of you, really and truly. You’ve been such a trouper through all of this. I don’t know how you’ve done it.”

“Thanks, I guess. You’ve been a huge help. And Nate, too.”

“I’m so glad that you let him in.”

“What can I say, you were right.” She rolled her eyes. “As usual. He’s such a good person, Sarah. Like, authentically good. And kind. And patient.” She stroked Franklin’s head tentatively. “He told me that he spoke to you about going back to school.”

“He did. Pretty impressive, huh?”

“It really is. I was worried about that, for sure. Can you imagine him as a sixty-five-year-old comedian paralegal?”

“I’d rather not. And apparently, neither would he, which is terrific.”

“Thank God.”

“What does he think about kids, Mo?”

“He said he wasn’t sure he wanted them anyway.”

“No kidding.”

“Yeah. We even talked about adopting for, like, a minute before I changed the subject. I’m not ready for that discussion yet. But you know, just that he even entertained the idea is fairly huge.”

“I’d say more than fairly.” I kissed her cheek. “Mona, you’re the bravest person I’ve ever known. You always have been.”

“I am?” She looked me in the eye, and I could see hers brimming with tears.

“No contest. You inspire me, you really do.” I geared up to hug her and then pulled back. “I don’t want to squash Franklin.”

“Probably not a good idea.” She smiled at me. “You inspire me too, you know.”

“Get out of here.”

“No, you do. You always pull yourself up by the bootstraps.”

“I do?”

“Sure. Remember when Clark broke up with you and you gained thirty pounds and wallowed in self-pity for a year?”

“You call that pulling myself up by the bootstraps?”

“You knew yourself well enough to take the time you needed to get over it, and then one day you just up and registered for the marathon and joined Date.com. When you were ready, you were ready.”

“What a year that was. Each guy was worse than the next, and my nipples were in a constant state of chafe.” I shook my head, remembering.

“So, you’ve done the same thing now. You wallowed for a bit, but when you were ready—bam! Driving lessons; a new career; a baby. I really admire you.”

“Come on, I certainly dragged my feet enough on all fronts.”

“Not true.”

“Thanks.”

“And I think you’re gonna be a great mom.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“What’s happening over here?” asked Kate, approaching us with three flutes of bubbly beverages.

“Just getting mushy,” I answered.

“I don’t want her to leave,” said Mona.

“Join the club,” said Kate. “For you, Sarah, some delicious sparkling apple cider, and for Mona, champagne.”

“Will you guys come visit?” I asked, braced for the “Of course we will” but knowing that they most likely would not. When you lived in New York, the America outside of it didn’t really exist, unless of course you were talking about Los Angeles.

“Well I guess we have to now,” answered Mona. “What with the baby on board and all.”

“Really?” I asked, excited. “Good.” I raised my glass. “To your visit.” Mona and Kate followed suit, and we clinked over Franklin’s head.

21

When you approach a roundabout, slow down and watch for signs and/or pavement markings that prohibit certain movements.

M
orning sunlight filtered through the blinds as a ladybug crawled across the sheets toward me. I picked it up gently—after all, this was the new, maternal me, lover of all of God’s creatures—but despite my best intentions, I found myself crushing it to a pulp within seconds.
Oh well. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Josh rolled over and laid his arm across my stomach, burying his head between my collarbone and jaw. It felt good to be back in my bed, although leaving New York had proved to be unexpectedly emotional for me. In the cab, I had held Josh’s hand and cried quietly, overwhelmed by the realization that when we returned to visit, it would be with our child in tow.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

“Morning,” I replied, snuggling into him. “I missed this.”

“Me too.” He reversed onto his back and yawned loudly. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in weeks. The bed is too cold without you in it.”

“Come on, I know at least the first couple of days I was gone had to be nice. You could stretch out as much as you liked, hog the blankets, not make the bed . . .”

He smiled, his eyes closed. “Maybe the first two days or so.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“But it got old quickly.”

“Yeah, so did sleeping on Mona’s couch.”

“I bet. Hey, you hungry?”

“Yep.”

“Let’s go out to breakfast.”

“Ooh la la.” I threaded my fingers through his. “That sounds nice. Can we go somewhere that serves biscuits? Real biscuits, not the frozen-and-reheated kind?”

“Yeah, there’s this place that Curtis told me about down by campus. Biscuits and bacon as far as the eye can see, supposedly.”

“That’s a great name for a restaurant that only serves breakfast. Biscuits and Bacon. Who’s Curtis, by the way?”

“One of my TAs, remember? I told you about him before. He came to taco night.”

“A fellow math nerd?”

“Yeah. I’d love for you to meet him.”

“How old is he?”

“I dunno, twenty-three, twenty-four?”

“Oh my God, twenty-three. Can you even remember what being that young felt like?”

“Yeah, itchy. Those were not my finest years.”

I laughed as I slowly unwound myself from the sheet. “Guess I’ll go take a shower.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Josh, you know I love you, but the showering-together thing is not for me. Especially with the baby. I could slip or something.”

“Fine.” He rolled onto his stomach and pulled the comforter over his head.

As I massaged conditioner into my scalp, the door opened. On the other side of the mottled glass, Josh’s blurry frame appeared. I closed my eyes and continued to relish the warmth of the water, hoping that he was not going to pull a fast one and attempt to join me.

“Oh, hey, I forgot to tell you something,” he said as he squirted toothpaste onto his toothbrush.

“What’s that?”

“Iris and Mac filed for separation.”

I slid the door open, my mouth agape. “What?”

“Yeah, crazy, right?” He began to brush his teeth.

“Shit, don’t stop there! What’s the scoop?”

He pointed to his mouth with his free hand.

“Fine, I’ll wait.” I rinsed my hair quickly, wondering about the cause of their split. Had Mac wanted to go to Madrid and Iris to Johannesburg? Or had Iris been keen to run a marathon and Mac set on the Ironman? I was being an asshole, but based on what I knew of both of them, I honestly couldn’t think of any other viable options. Unless I had been right about the cracks in Iris’s no-baby-for-us façade. I turned off the shower and got out, pulling my towel from its hook.

“Hey, wait, let me look at you,” pleaded Josh. I put the towel back hesitantly, feeling embarrassed. “You’re uncomfortable being naked in front of me now?” He looked at me mournfully.

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I’ve gained some weight.”

“I would hope so! You’ve got a baby in there.” He moved closer. “You look beautiful, honey. Honestly. I can’t wait until you’re showing.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He hugged me, and I relaxed into his embrace, his minty breath cold on my shoulder.

“So what’s the story with Iris and Mac?” He handed me my towel, and I wrapped myself in it.

“Nobody knows for sure. I haven’t spoken to either of them; it’s just hearsay at this point.”

“Wow. I feel badly for them.”

“Me too, but at least there are no kids involved.”

“Yeah. Makes it a little easier, I suppose. You know, Iris told me on our coffee date that they didn’t want any.” We both moved into the bedroom.

“Really?”

“That’s what she said.”

“I don’t understand how that could be. With both of them being so good-looking, it’s sort of their genetic obligation to procreate.”

“Maybe she wasn’t telling the whole truth. Maybe one of them wanted kids and the other didn’t. That would be grounds for separation, I would think.”

“True. Kids change a marriage, that’s for sure,” Josh remarked as he watched me put lotion on my legs.

“Are you ready for that?” I asked. “The change?”

“I think so. Are you?”

“Ready or not, here we come.” I pulled on my underwear. “But that doesn’t mean that it’s going to be easy. We can’t be scared of each other’s changing perspectives throughout all of this.”

“No, we can’t. We have to vow to communicate. No walking on eggshells and hoping that things iron themselves out,” Josh said. “Like before.”

“Right, although I think with some things we can just sort of wait and see. There are going to be epic mood swings on my end over the next eight months. It’s probably best if we don’t dissect each one.”

“Yes, but no more being scared of honesty. Especially with a baby coming. She’s not a Band-Aid for our problems.”

“Of course not. Did you just say ‘she’?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Did I? Huh. I’d love a little girl. Girl babies are so cute.”

“Really? I think I’d be more into a boy at this point. Teenage girls are murder. Karmically, I’m screwed. I was the absolute worst to my mother,” I said, shuddering. “I think I told her that I hated her at least three times a week.”

“Geez. That’s terrible, Sarah.”

“I know. Hormones, what can I say? Speaking of my mom, I was being too hard on her, I think, blaming her for my own parenting fears. Now I’m more comfortable taking ownership of them myself. How could anyone possibly feel like they’ve done everything they wanted to do with their own life by the time they’re ready to have kids?”

“And if you do, then isn’t that sad?” said Josh. “Shouldn’t you always want to be expanding and growing, regardless of your kids?”

“Right, but I think physically it’s much harder to chase your dreams when you have a baby suckling at your breast.”

“True,” Josh conceded.

“At any rate, I’m feeling good about the baby. Hopeful and excited.”

“You know what’s cool?” asked Josh.

“What?”

“That you put your marketing-consultant wheels in motion before you found out that you were pregnant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, just that figuring out an appealing career path probably would have been a lot harder with a baby around, or even with a baby in there.” He patted my stomach.

“Okay, really, Josh, I love you, but enough with the hands on the stomach until, you know, it’s an actual pregnant stomach and not a bowl of oatmeal.”

“Fine. But do you know what I mean?”

“Of course. I’m excited about this new venture. Although, who knows if it has true potential.”

“I think it’s a no-brainer.”

“Thanks, Josh.” I laid my damp head on his shoulder.

“Have you told your mom yet, by the way?”

“Not yet. I want to keep this ours until we have our first doctor appointment and see the baby on the big screen.”

“I can’t imagine what that’s going to feel like,” said Josh.

“Incredible, overwhelming, and surreal for starters.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Me either.”

 

I
backed out of our garage, looking in my side mirrors maniacally as I squeaked out of the narrow opening. On the road, I turned on the radio—a first for me—and rolled down the windows. I relaxed my grip on the wheel. I was almost enjoying myself. Almost.

I pulled awkwardly into a parking spot at the coffee shop that Ray and I had agreed on. Realizing I was crooked, I reversed out and reparked, only to find myself in the same position. “Okay, breathe, Sarah. Take your time,” I said aloud. I backed out and did it again, landing in exactly the same position.
Screw it.

As I reached over to grab my bag, a knock on my driver-side window made me jump. I looked up to find Ray beaming at me through the glass. He stepped out of the way and I opened the door.

“Look out, Miss New York is back!”

“Hey hey,” I replied, blushing under the crush of his enthusiasm. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” He went in for a hug and I returned it, temporarily submerged in a sea of cologne that smelled like black licorice and tobacco. Not an unpleasant smell by any means, but Ray seemed to have bathed in it.

“My parking mess.” I locked the door and smiled, taking him in. He truly was a human teddy bear—tall, sturdy, fuzzy, and somehow in a constant state of grin despite the fact that he put his life in jeopardy each day by teaching people like me to drive. And in a car that looked like a mouse, no less.

“Naw, that wasn’t a mess. You went in a little crooked, but you took your time and straightened out. That was a pro’s work.”

“Get out of here.”

“Naw, for real. You’re serious now. You drove into Manhattan! Hell, I don’t even know if I could have done that.”

I reached out and grabbed his elbow as we made our way into the shop. “Thanks, Ray. I was pretty proud of myself. And thanks for your help, too. Having you there, so to speak, was incredibly helpful.” He held the door open for me and we approached the counter.

“Yeah, that was something. I don’t think I’ve ever given a driving lesson on the phone. This is on me,” he said, pointing to the menu.

“No!”

“I mean it. Give me your order and take a seat. I’ll bring everything over when it’s ready.” I threw up my hands in surrender, ordered a decaf latte and an oatmeal raisin cookie, and slid into a booth.

“So, you movin’ back to the big city?” Ray asked, taking a bite of his Danish.

“No. I’ve been cured of my New Yorkitis.” I shook some sugar into my latte.

“Ooh, that’s good to hear!” declared Ray. “I was nervous there for a minute.”

“You were?”

“Sure. You seemed pretty sweet on that place. I didn’t think ole Farmwood stood a chance.”

“I’m back, baby.”

“Yeah, you are.” He took a sip of his sweet tea. “My marketing guru.”

“I hope so. Ray, I’ve got to thank you. Your reaching out to me really got me thinking. I’m going to use our work together as a springboard to launch my own consulting firm.”

“Now, that’s a good idea, Sarah. Farmwood needs some urban sophistication.”

I choked on my cookie. “That’s a phrase I didn’t expect to hear from your mouth, Ray.”

“What? ‘Urban sophistication’?”

I nodded, grinning.

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises. Don’t think that ole Ray is easy to figure out.” He took a dramatic pull from his straw. “I am a complex man, you know.”

“I know.” I winked at him. “So, do you want to take a look at what I’ve come up with so far?”

“Sure do.”

I pulled my laptop out of my bag and we spent the next half hour going over the ins and outs of what I was proposing.

“Sarah, these are some great ideas,” said Ray when we had finished up.

“Thanks, Ray. I think Minnie’s has a lot of potential to grow in ways we’re only beginning to imagine.” I paused. “Oh God, I sound like a hedge fund manager or something.”

“It’s all good. I know what you mean.” Ray glanced at his watch. “All right, boss, I should get back to work. I’m giving an eighty-seven-year-old man a lesson in twenty minutes.”

“Shouldn’t he be turning in his license at this point?”

“He refuses, and his daughter threatened to take it away if he didn’t take a refresher course. I guess he backed through their garage door last week.”

“Ay ay ay.”

“Exactly. Wish me luck.” We stood up together. A wave of queasiness washed over me, and I held on to the table for a moment. “You all right?” Ray’s brow furrowed with concern.

“Yeah, fine.” I took a deep breath. “Just a little light-headed.” I smiled as convincingly as I could, crossing my fingers in the hope that my thus-far-pleasant pregnancy wasn’t taking a turn for Vomitville.

“You sure?” I nodded and walked slowly out in front of him.

“See you later, boss,” said Ray as he unlocked the mouse car’s doors. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Positive. Just heading to work.”

“Okay.” He opened his door as I waved and began to walk away. “Sarah?”

“Yes?”

He closed the door and jogged over to me. “You pregnant?” he asked.

“What?” I replied, shocked.

“Sorry, that was rude. But I have three kids. I know pregnant when I see it.” He smiled supportively. “You need any advice, you call Vanessa, you hear? She’s a pro.”

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