Expecting: A Novel (23 page)

A
stupid
joke, that figures
, Laurie thinks. But it is Alan; he is here—beside her. A good thing. And someone else is speaking. Jack.

“Remember that scene in the
Alien
movie?” Jack says.

Laurie sees Alan shake his head at Jack. Do not talk about the
Alien
movie, not a good idea. Laurie wants to tell Alan that is okay, talk about the
Alien
movie. Should she tell him to get out of the way of the
Inside
Edition
crew?

“It’s time to push,” Dr. Liu says.

It
is
time to push. Say it the right way. But pushing is the good part, what she has been waiting for, the part that means the pain is almost over, and when she is done with the pain, she will get the best reward ever.

Alan and Jack are holding her hands. “Hang in there, honey, you’re doing great,” Alan says.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Jack tells her. “And vocalize. Huh huh huh,” he says to her.

“Huh, huh, huh,” Laurie repeats.

“Two birth coaches, how’d you get so lucky?” Dr. Liu says. “One more big push.”

How
did
you
get
so
lucky
and
I
do
not
know
if
I
can
push
one
more
time. If I do I am afraid I will push out the baby
and
my
spine
and
all
my
organs, and that might not be a good thing, except at least Jack will get his
Alien
wish
.

“That’s the way, honey.” Alan has moved to the foot of the hospital bed. “I can see the head. Jack, come look.”

Jack turns to Laurie. “No worries,” he says. “I’m fine here.” He breathes along with Laurie.

“He has dark hair,” Alan announces. “A lot of hair.”

“Better than a baldy,” Jack says. “I know people say all babies are cute, but not the bald ones.”

“Huh huh.” Laurie will love the baby if he is bald or if he has a lot of hair or if his head is covered with Bermuda grass.

“Good job, Laurie,” Dr. Liu says. He is bent between her legs, and she wonders if the baby will shoot out like a rocket or she will hear a dramatic sound—a balloon popping.

“Oh…there’s more of his head. I can see more of the head, oh oh oh.” Alan can barely make words.

“Huh huh.”
This
is
crowning
, Laurie thinks.
They
should
give
me
a
scepter
. She wants to laugh, but she is not in her body; she is hovering above the room, watching Alan at her feet, intent on the delivery, watching Jack, who is pale, a scared smile frozen on his face. They are both in the room. Waiting for the baby.

***

It does not sound like a balloon popping and Laurie is not sure she hears anything; instead, she feels her body relaxing and the sensation of something slithering, wet and slippery, and she realizes her baby is born.

Alan and Jack are silent, but Laurie isn’t worried, and
hallelujah
, she realizes she’s using contractions again. Nurses are moving around her and Dr. Liu appears with a tiny pink and purple body, limbs flailing, bigger than a kitten, but making kitten sounds all the same. The baby is shiny and new, and his fists are clenched together close to his chest. His eyes are shut, and he’s frowning as if he’s annoyed at the fuss.

“Hello, Buddy,” Laurie says as Dr. Liu puts the baby into Laurie’s arms. He feels warm and small and very wiggly.

“I don’t think he’s a Buddy,” Alan says. He is holding Laurie’s hand again.

“Yeah,” Jack agrees. “He looks more like a Buddette.”

***

Buddy is a she. A girl. Years from now, will she talk about this in therapy? “Yeah, my parents must have wanted a boy.” “No,” Laurie will tell her. “We wanted a baby. We wanted
you
.”

And will she believe that? She’ll probably say something like, “Oh, great. Like it wasn’t hard enough growing up with three parents instead of two.” And Laurie and Alan will tell her life is full of unexpected things. Their daughter will roll her eyes, her eyes that are a combination of Laurie’s and Jack’s, but also the attitude of Alan’s. She is a combination of all three of them.

***

Laurie is breast-feeding the baby in her hospital room. Alan and Jack are with her, watching closely, as if they’re afraid they’ll miss something. “I read somewhere men are able to breast-feed,” she tells them. Alan and Jack shudder. “Yeah, exactly the reaction I would have expected. Don’t want to give it a try?”

“Nope,” says Alan.

“I’ll take a pass,” says Jack.

After feeding the baby is done, she asks Alan and Jack if they’d like to hold the baby. They glance at each other—who should go first?

“Don’t make me flip a coin,” Laurie says.

Alan steps forward and takes the baby. He holds her as if she’s made of glass. “She’s so light,” he says. When Alan speaks, her eyes open. Big and brown, she looks right at Alan as if she’s heard his voice before. “Hello,” he says to her. “Welcome, pretty girl.” Everything about her is so perfect, so new. He doesn’t think he will ever be able to let her go.

Jack is standing by the window. “I’m not sure I should hold her,” he says. “I read all that stuff where you have to support her neck—suppose I don’t and her head flops back?” Jack shudders.

Alan looks at Jack. He pulls the baby closer to his chest. Jack is waiting for
his
turn.

“Don’t worry,” Laurie is saying to Jack. “People know how to hold babies; it’s automatic.”

Jack shakes his head. He doesn’t believe her.

Why does Alan have to give the baby to Jack? Isn’t she
his
daughter now? Alan looks down at the baby. Dark eyes and black hair—he has never seen anything so beautiful. Yesterday he was childless. Three hours ago he was childless. And now—he realizes someone will have to teach this baby, this little girl how to ride a bike. Learn to scramble an egg. Drive a car. Go on dates. No, he will never let her go on dates. Unless he comes along as a chaperone.

“Alan?” Laurie says to him. He knows what she’s thinking—she’s going to tell him to give the baby to Jack. But suppose he doesn’t? Suppose he runs out of the hospital room and takes the baby back to his apartment? They’ll live there together, the two of them.

Alan sees Jack watching him.
Does
Jack
know
I’m planning an escape? Suppose the baby is more comfortable with Jack than with me? And Laurie will be able to tell and I’ll never be able to hold her again.

He shouldn’t have thoughts like this anymore—worrying about Jack is old Alan behavior. New, improved Alan makes the right choices, even if they aren’t easy. Gallant, not Goofus.

He walks over to Jack and gently lays the baby in his arms. “Be careful,” he says to Jack. “Don’t let her float away.”

Jack cradles the baby; he wants to make sure she’s safe, but he doesn’t want to crush her either. Her head seems safe though, not at all floppy. Whew. He breathes out, then in again. He has a baby in his arms. She’s making soft sounds,
coo
coo
.

“Coo coo,” Jack says back to her.

“She likes you,” Laurie says.

“She’s just waiting to throw up on me,” Jack says. He cradles the baby in one arm. Takes his finger and touches her nose. “She’s like a miniature person,” he says softly.

No one notices when Alan slips out of the room.

***

The next day, the room is filled with flowers and balloons; Palmer-Boone has sent a fruit basket and bottles of Choc-O. Sir Prance-a-lot sits on the table by Laurie’s bed. Jack’s parents are here with Jack. Laurie is wearing her new cross necklace and fielding phone calls from various parents and friends. Grace has called twice, texted at least a dozen times, and sent email pictures of Grace, Hal, and Emilie holding up a handwritten sign that says, “Welcome to the world!” Laurie’s mother wants more photos of the baby—what about Skype? “Maybe later,” Laurie says. “What’s the use of technology if you don’t embrace it?” Laurie’s mother asks her.

Jack’s mother produces a plastic bag and begins to pull out cardboard cartons. “I saw what they wanted to give you for lunch,” she says to Laurie, “and I thought I could do better.”

“I don’t know if I should have Indian food,” Laurie tells her.

“Indian? It’s Thai. Your husband said it was your favorite.”

“Thank you,” Laurie says. “Where’s Alan?”

“We were talking about baseball,” Jack’s father says. “He’s a big Dodgers fan.” Jack’s father shakes his head and makes a face.

“Rakesh, go find Laurie’s husband,” Jack’s mother says. “He should eat too.” Jack’s father goes out, and Jack’s mother smiles at Laurie. Laurie is suddenly self-conscious about breast-feeding—is she doing something wrong?

“The baby has a good appetite.” Jack’s mother sits on the bed beside Laurie. “Jack and his sister did too. Jack more than Subhra. I was afraid he was going to weigh forty pounds at six months.” Jack’s mother grins at Jack and Laurie sees Jack’s face—the guileless smile, perfect teeth. Jack blushes and looks down at his feet. “Don’t be embarrassed. Breast-feeding is natural, isn’t that right, Laurie?”

“Yes, Mrs. Mulani.”

“Anjali.”

The food smells good, pra ram and chicken satay, tom yum soup. Jack’s mother nods at Jack. “Where’s your girlfriend? You should see if she’s hungry.” Jack explains Megan had to leave because she has an audition for
Julius
Caesar
and she’s told him the girl parts suck and she really wants to be Cassius—“I could have a lean and hungry look,” she said to Jack.

Jack’s mother turns to Laurie. “It’s nice your first is a girl. They’re easier. They listen more. But boys—they’re more unpredictable. Which isn’t a bad thing. Most of the time.” She laughs a pretty, musical laugh. “We are so proud of Subhra, and we love her very much. And Jack too, of course.” Jack’s mother smiles at Jack again. “What Jack does is always so…his journey will never be a dull one.”

Jack’s mother walks over to Jack and hugs him again—his ribs seem intact, and he’s not exactly sure what all the hugging is about, but he’ll roll with it. His mother whispers in his ear, “You’re still going to graduate, aren’t you?”

***

Alan is in the hallway; his parents called and he couldn’t hear them over the noise in the room. They asked about the baby, how much she weighs, how could he forget how long she is, didn’t he write it down? And what does she look like? Take a photo and send it right away. We need to see her. “I will,” he promises and clicks off, thinking it might be better if he talks to them again
before
he sends the photo so his parents will have some advance knowledge about why the baby doesn’t look exactly (or remotely) like him. He’s using Laurie’s cell and notices she’s already taken pictures of the baby. He could send his parents one of these. He scrolls through her photos, back through weeks and weeks, then months and months. The story of two years of their lives, going backward.

For the first photo, Laurie held the phone out, so they’d both be in the shot. They’re standing in front of their house, their arms around each other. Except Alan has a piece of ice in his hand, and he’s waiting to drop it down the back of Laurie’s shirt.

Two years ago.
We
were
younger, thinner. Life was a glass half full
. He remembers standing at the top of a waterfall in Costa Rica, telling Laurie it was time to start a new adventure. And now…here it is.

Jack’s father appears. “My wife sent me to find you. She brought lunch,” he says.

“I was on the phone with my parents,” Alan says. He’s not sure what else to say. What is his relationship with this man—have they become some oddball version of in-laws?

“Your daughter is beautiful. A nice disposition, you can already tell.”

“That’s good.” Alan nods at Jack’s father.

“This is certainly a big surprise. For all of us.”

“No kidding.” The understatement of the century.

Jack’s father shrugs. “But—that’s life. You never know what you’re going to get. Or what will happen. My daughter, a doctor. My son, a father. None of us, we never know. What can you do?”

What
can
you
do?

“I don’t have any idea what to do. I’m lost,” Alan says.

Jack’s father points down the hallway. “Your daughter. She’s waiting for you.”

***

The nurse tells them there are too many people in the room and they shouldn’t be eating Thai food, but Jack’s mother bribes her with coconut ice cream and the nurse says she has some work to do, and when she comes back in ten minutes, wink wink, she hopes Laurie will be resting. Alan is sitting at the foot of the bed eating Thai food and looking at the baby in Laurie’s arms.

Jack’s mother collects empty plates and cartons and nods at her husband. “We should leave the parents alone,” she says. “If you need anything, Laurie, let us know. We’ll be at our hotel.”

Laurie nods. Jack’s mother and father start out, but Jack lingers in the doorway. He’s watching the baby.

“Jack. Your final,” Laurie says. “Kick ass.”

“I will.” He still doesn’t move—a last look at the baby, at Laurie. “If the baby gets fussy, you could sing that song to her,” he says. “You know, the ‘World on a String’ one.”

“That’s a great idea. Thank you,” Laurie says to him. “For everything.”

***

The nurses have taken the baby away and Laurie sips a Choc-O. “You disappeared,” she says to Alan.

He nods at her.

“Were you planning on coming back?” she asks him.

“Did you want me to come back?”

Laurie doesn’t answer him. She looks around the room instead. “It already feels empty. Without her in here.” She turns to Alan. “She needs to grow up with a father. With you.”