Harder We Fade (19 page)

Max and I had decided not to tell my parents over the phone. Instead, we waited until the last week before the due date, and I called and told my parents that I wanted them to come to LA, along with Grace, and that it was important.

My thinking was that it would be better to tell them face to face, and there was no way I was going to travel this close to my due date.

At first they demanded to know why I needed them to come out to LA so urgently, and I reassured them that it wasn’t an emergency, that I was fine, and it was just something I would rather talk to them about in person.

Max offered to send the plane and have them flown out here, but something about that didn’t sit right with me. I feared that my parents would see it as a power-play, especially since I wouldn’t tell them why I wanted them to visit — only that it was good news.

Things had been more than rocky, to say the least, but parents are parents and when a child calls, the good ones run to them. Despite the recent fall-out, I knew my parents were good people and they would come to be by my side.

So they came by commercial flight, and Max and I met them at the airport.

I deliberately wore something that would show off my belly, just for the purpose of making the words easier to say, if I had to say them at all. Which I didn’t, because the second Grace saw me, she happily screamed, “Oh, my God!”

My parents were undoubtedly floored when they saw me, but since Max was there, we ran very little risk of getting into a huge dust-up over my revelation.

Maybe it also had something to do with the fact that the doctors were going to induce labor in two days and there was very little time for them to coordinate an offensive against my life choice. What was done was done, and there was no going back now.

Mom, Dad and I had a sincere heart-to-heart talk that evening before they went to their hotel. They didn’t want to stay at our house, and I hadn’t expected them to anyway.

“I know you guys aren’t happy about this,” I said. “But it’s going to happen, and I want you to be a part of my baby’s life just like you’re part of Grace’s kids’ lives.”

“That’ll mean you come home more often?” Dad asked.

“I’ll work on that,” I said.

Dad looked skeptical. So did Mom.

“I promise I’ll try,” I said.

The three of us group-hugged and I was grateful that I had at least some kind of sign that my family wouldn’t be broken.

Surprisingly, it took a while to get to the topic of marriage, and it was my father who brought it up.

I had rehearsed my answer and explained to them that Max and I were indeed going to get married.

“When?” Mom asked.

“Soon.”

“Here or home?” Dad said.

“Dad, this is my home.”

I of course wore the engagement ring, but both of our wedding rings were in my jewelry box.

Step One of Max’s master plan: complete.

Two days later, as scheduled, I was in the delivery room, knees up in the stirrups, trying to do the breathing exercises while crunching on ice in between contractions.

Although I was nervous, the room itself was calm, mostly due to the nurses and the doctor, who were a rock of stability and comfort for me. And thank God for that, because Max was uncharacteristically a nervous wreck.

True to form, though, he was at his most useful behind the video camera. Taking video of the birth was his idea, and I had no problem with it. At least until it was actually happening and he was telling the nurses to give the camera a glance, telling the doctor he needed to get a better angle on what was happening. It was Max the director, right there in the birthing room.

The nurses and the doctor weren’t thrilled by it, which bothered me. Otherwise, I didn’t care what he did, and actually found it a nice and quite amusing distraction.

After six hours of labor, it finally happened — we had a son, and as we had decided weeks earlier, we named him Gabriel.

Max brought the news out to the waiting room, and a few minutes later, my parents were the first ones to come see me.

It was the first time I had ever seen my father cry. It wasn’t a sobbing cry, and it certainly wasn’t a sad one.

“I thought I would get used to this,” he said, wiping his nose with a handkerchief.

“You cried when Grace had her kids?” I asked.

My mom said, “Like a waterfall.”

Grace came in just then and I said, “Why didn’t you tell me Dad cried when you gave birth?”

She said, “He told me not to.”

And I thought we shared everything. I guess that’s what I get for hiding all of this from her. Karma sucks.

I didn’t press the issue, though. Right now we were sharing enough. My moment in the sun as a new mother.

It was just the four of us there, just like our family used to be, and it was surprisingly comforting, even after all it took to get to that point.

A month later, we were putting Step Two of Max’s master plan into action, at the riverside park in my hometown in Ohio.

When I got out of the limo, I first saw the sixty white folding chairs that had been set up by volunteers from my parents’ church. All of the seats were filled. Most of the people in attendance were friends of mine from high school and college, at least the ones who were still around and could make it. Some of the people were my parents’ friends from church.

The chairs faced the river, which served as the backdrop for the trellis adorned with white lilies.

When I stepped from the limo, all heads turned in my direction.

No one, not even Grace, knew that Max and I were already married. The only people in attendance who knew were Carl, Anthony, Monica and Loralei.

I thought the idea of a phony wedding ceremony was crazy, but Max told me to go with it, that it would make our friends and family happy. “Relax, Liv. We’ll pull this off, Hollywood style,” he had said at one point.

It was a modest wedding, one that my parents and Max’s mother were very happy with. Max and I were simply placating our old-fashioned Midwestern parents.

Grace was my matron of honor, while Krystal, Monica and Loralei served as bridesmaids. Carl was Max’s best man, and his other two groomsmen were Anthony and, strange as it may sound, my father. It was a touching moment for me, having him walk me down the aisle, hand me off to Max, and then take his place.

Even though families usually sit on different sides of the aisle, ours broke from tradition and sat together. This was mostly so our moms could each hold Gabriel during the ceremony.

Our vows were toned down from our real ceremony. Max and I decided that they were the most meaningful part of our actual wedding, and they were too important to include in the fake one.

The kiss, however, was as real as the one at our actual ceremony. When the kiss was over, Max whispered into my ear, “I’d marry you every day of my life if I could.”

Later, at the reception in a small ballroom at a hotel not far from the park, Max pointed out something interesting: “You know, this is the only part of the whole thing that’s genuine.”

We were having our first dance as husband and wife.

“True,” I said. “But the whole thing is genuine to everyone else here.”

“Yeah, almost everyone.”

He was referring to Carl, Anthony, Monica and Loralei, who were standing beside each other as everyone watched us dance.

Carl had a smirk on his face, and Anthony was shaking his head. Loralei and Monica were alternating between laughing between them and tearing up when they looked at us.

I knew them well enough by now to know that they weren’t being critical — they were marveling at this stunt we’d just pulled off. A major production. All written and directed by Max.

Later that night we were on the plane, alone.

My parents were keeping Gabriel for two weeks, and Max’s mother was staying at their house to help out. I made sure Paula had the silver spoon to feed him with.

I was uncertain about the idea at first, but the few days we’d been in Ohio had been so great, I figured it would be good for the in-laws to bond together with their new grandson.

Also, to say I was looking forward to some alone time with Max, with no work to be done, would be an understatement of criminal proportions.

Max, true to his word, had surprised me with an amazing honeymoon. The itinerary included London, Madrid, and Rome.

While I was looking forward to all of it, I did feel the first pangs of…something…I’m not sure what it was. Not guilt. Maybe just concern. As a new mother, I figured I’d have to get used to that feeling as well. Leaving a baby for two weeks wasn’t going to be easy. But I trusted my parents and Paula, of course. And Grace, as well, since I knew she’d probably be over there quite a bit.

I was turning those thoughts over and over in my mind as the flight leveled off at cruising altitude. I knew I needed to let it go. Just enjoy all of this. So I climbed onto Max’s lap.

“I’ll need to see your Mile High membership card, ma’am,” he said.

I leaned into him and kissed him as I laughed.

“I just thought of something,” I said. “Two weddings… Does this mean we’ll need two divorces as well?”

Max knew I was joking, but his answer was as serious as anything he’d ever said to me: “Don’t even think about getting away from me. I’d follow you to the edge of the universe, Liv.”