Kate Jacobs (40 page)

* * *

By Sunday, Georgia was tired from her evening
out but spent most of the morning on the couch, talking to Cat on the phone
about how to start a business. It was an exciting time, throwing out all sorts
of zany ideas, dreaming. After a nap that seemed far too short, James sat on
the couch and kissed her cheeks until she woke up.
"We're going to be late for Anita and Marty's cocktail hour," he
said. "It's the big housewarming event."
"This has really been a party weekend." Georgia grinned. "I'm
exhausted, but it's been really fun."
"Especially the getting-out-of-doing-the-dishes part," said James.
"Oh, darling, you know me too well," she replied.
With Dakota leading the charge, they arrived only ten minutes late or so at the
brownstone. Cat was already inside, running off her mouth at Anita about all
her plans for an antiques business.
"Georgia thinks it a great idea," she announced as the family
followed Marty into the living area.
"So do I," said Anita, patting Cat on the knee and then getting up to
give Georgia a big hug. "Welcome to our little home."
The apartment was just as beautifully decorated as it had been the first time
Anita saw it, but now it had a throw pillow here, an original painting there,
and vase after vase of fragrant fresh flowers.
"It smells like you," said Dakota. "Good."
They received the grand tour, ending up on the patio in the back garden for a
few minutes, even though the air was cool.
"All right, I'm going to ask something I know we all want to know,"
declared Cat. Anita froze, expecting a comment about there being only one
bedroom. "Marty, do you own this brownstone?"
A chorus of "Cat!" echoed through the group.
Marty seemed nonplussed.
"Nope," he said, taking a sip of his beer. "I'm afraid I just
rent this apartment."
He took another sip.
"From my brother Sam, who retired down to Delray. It's his brownstone and
my niece lives upstairs with her family," he continued. "I just own
the building on Broadway."
"Say what?" It was Georgia. "You own the building?"
Marty looked down at his hands, a bit chuffed. "Yeah," he admitted.
"So you're…
Masam
Management," said Georgia.
"Of course you are. That explains the barely-there rent increases over the
past few years. I thought it was just some landlord out of touch with the
spiraling costs of the city. But no, it's you."
"It's me."
"Very savvy, Marty," commended Cat. "You're a regular Donald
Trump."
"Just a guy that worked hard, saved his pennies, and had a goal."
"What goal was that, Marty?" asked James.
"To make a good home and then find the prettiest girl in the world,"
he said. "And that's just what I'm doing." He put his arm around
Anita and raised a glass.
"To us," he said, then winked at Georgia. "To all of us."

* * *

It was just a rough cut, Lucie was saying to
Georgia as she arrived just as the workday ended. But still, it was almost
there. They'd snuck out of the shop—a quick wave to Anita to let her know they
were going—and headed upstairs for the preview of the film.
"I remember when I used to run up and down these steps a million times a
day," she told Lucie. "Now I move from sitting on my butt in the
apartment to sitting on my butt in the office."
She unlocked the door; Dakota was banging around in the kitchen, frosting chocolate
cupcakes.
"Are we disturbing you, sweetie?" Georgia called out.
"Nah, just finishing," said Dakota, who joined her mom on the sofa.
Lucie started the film, reading a narration from a piece of paper. "I'm
going to do the voice-over at the TV station this weekend," she told
Georgia. "My boss is really cool. The job still doesn't pay enough, but
the health insurance and the easy access to an editing suite has more than made
up for it. Plus they're going to top up my maternity leave with some extra time."
"It's awesome, Lucie, just great."
"I love it," said Dakota. "I think I've gotten taller since I
made that felted purse."
Georgia kissed the top of her head. "You're really growing into quite a
young woman," she said, ignoring Dakota's eye roll. "And you, Lucie,
are growing into quite a filmmaker."
"I had so many hours in the can, and then I shot a ton more since you gave
me the go-ahead in August," she said. "You've really been kind to me.
To
Peri
. All of us. I kind of wanted to make a film
about that, about women pursuing their dreams and being independent. Show this
baby how it's done."
"Don't give me all the credit," said Georgia. "Save some for
yourself."
"I'd like to show the club when it's finished."
"I have a better idea—let's make it a real premiere," said Georgia.
"I'll rent out some equipment and we can set up the shop as a little bit
of a screening room. Put up some posters in the shop and at Marty's with time
and place. Think you can get it done for next week?"
"Absolutely—I'm almost there."
"Well, we can move the table against the wall, and there'd be enough room.
I bet we'd get quite a few people to show up."
"Maybe," said Lucie, considering. "Do you think perhaps that
news anchor from channel 4 or something, the one who comes by sometimes?"
"Sure, or maybe someone we don't even know yet," said Georgia,
getting excited. "It's New York. Everybody always has a connection to
someone who can make it happen."
"Thanks," said Lucie, genuinely touched.
"You bet." Georgia hoisted herself off the sofa and slid into a pair
of mules. "Now let's get back downstairs—we've all been so distracted with
everything that we've fallen behind in our project. But I'm finally going to
show Darwin and K.C. how to do the sewing off on their sweaters if I have to
tie them to their chairs!"
A half-hour later, and K.C. was planning a mutiny. "I failed sewing in
high school," she sulked. "Georgia, I thought you were going to
finish it off for me like you always do."
"It's just a bit of zigzagging with a needle and yarn," replied
Georgia. "Make sure it's the same tension as the stitches and you're good
to go."
"It's not sitting right," said K.C.
"Well, it would have worked better if you'd blocked and pressed it,"
pointed out Anita. "I went over that last week." Her tone scolded,
but gently.
"I thought that was optional."
"It looks better if you do it."
Then Georgia noticed that Darwin was sewing her sleeves together to make a
tube—but not attaching them to the front and back pieces, which were still
folded up in her bag.
"Darwin, you've got to do the shoulders first," said Georgia, as
Lucie returned from her third trip to the bathroom to take her seat beside her
labor coach. She was a good egg, thought Georgia, doing her finishing along
with the group even though she'd knitted a zillion other things all along the
way.
"I didn't finish them."
"What?"
"I didn't finish the front and the back."
"Oh," said Georgia. "Okay." And she walked over to help
some other customers sew everything together.
"Why not?" Lucie asked Darwin.
"Because I was knitting this sweater for Dan," she said dully.
"Well then, I think you'd definitely want to finish it," said Lucie,
her eyes on her stitches. "Don't you know what knitters call it when they
put all the pieces together?"
"No."
Lucie leaned out across her big tummy and took Darwin's sleeve, began to take
out the seaming. Then she reached into Darwin's bag and gently handed her the
front section.
"I think it's time you got yourself to the point where you can try
it," she said. "Because it's called 'making up.'"

thirty-three

The following Tuesday, Darwin pushed her way
into the
knitting shop with a large box in her arms and a big backpack over her
shoulders. "Got any tape?" she called to
Peri
,
who was starting her afternoon shift.
"What have you got there?"
"Posters for
Lucie's
movie," Darwin said,
dumping the box on the table just as the filmmaker in question walked through
the door. "It's totally done and we're going to paper every surface we can
find in this town with posters about the premiere at Friday night's club
meeting."
Georgia, sitting at the table looking at some figures, pulled a poster out of
the box. "Great job, Lucie, on the design," she said. "Dakota
already made a handmade sign on the wall over there, but these look much
better."
Darwin pulled out the chair next to Georgia and put her head down, her long
dark hair falling all around.
"Hey, what's with this, professor?"
Darwin didn't move. "I'm tired," came the muffled reply. "I've
been pulling all-nighters."
"Did you finally get going on that thesis?" Georgia said with
enthusiasm.
"No," said Darwin. "I finally took
Lucie's
advice."
The pregnant woman turned around at the mention of her name. "You finished
the sweater?"
"You finished the sweater?!" repeated Georgia.
"Darwin finished her sweater?" said Anita, coming out of the back
office with Cat.
"What happened?" asked Cat.
"It appears Ms. Chiu has finished her sweater," said
Peri
with mock drama, as though reading a news bulletin.
Darwin raised her head to make a face when K.C. threw open the door.
"I got my results back and I kicked ass!" she screamed. A genteel
elderly customer looking at the cashmeres dropped her skein on the floor and
scurried out the door. But Georgia couldn't be mad at her old friend. Not now.
K.C. was crushing
Peri
in a hug. "My hero, my
LSAT genius," she screamed. "I'm going all the way. Columbia Law or
bust!"
She pointed a finger at Georgia, still sitting at the table next to Darwin.
"I knew it was a good idea to take that smart young assistant at Churchill
Publishing to lunch," K.C. said. "She's good people."
All of a sudden Lucie bent over and moaned. Cat, standing next to her, jumped
back with alarm.
"Oh, my God," she yelled. "I think she's having the baby."
"It was bound to happen," said Georgia, feeling a real tightness of
emotion in her chest over the success of her friends.
"Darwin, I think this is your cue," added Anita.
But even as she spoke, Darwin was already flying across the room, dragging over
a chair for Lucie to sit in.
"
Aaaah
, this really hurts," cried Lucie, a
look of shock on her face. "No, really, really."
"Breathe through it, okay now," said Darwin soothingly, to the
bemused admiration of Anita and Georgia.
"You'll be great, Luce," said Georgia, catching her eye. Lucie gave
her the thumbs-up.
Darwin began to whirl around in all directions.
"K.C., get down to the street and flag a cab," she instructed. "
Peri
, call the hospital. And can someone do me a favor and
hang up these posters today? We've got a hospital to get to."
"Don't you need
Lucie's
things, dear?"
prodded Anita.
"All here in my backpack, thanks," she said with confidence, guiding
Lucie out the door.

* * *

They paused for a moment, Cat and Anita by the
door, Georgia still at the table. Then
Peri
ambled
over to the office to get the tape and took a handful of posters down to
Marty's.
"Looks like we'll have a new member of the club very soon," she said
on her way out.
"Wow," said Cat. "I've never been that close to a woman in labor."
"It's a painful, crazy, beautiful thing," said Georgia, who was
starting to feel exhausted and light-headed, really quite nauseated. Her
stomach hurt. Sympathy cramps for Lucie, perhaps.
"Indeed," seconded Anita.
"Okay, so are we going to finish up that business plan?" asked Cat,
walking back toward the office. "I'm ready for you to read it now,
Georgia."
Putting both hands on the table and breathing hard, Georgia tried to push
herself up. But the shop skittered around in front of her eyes and her legs
began to wobble. She doubled over as pain seared her abdomen. In seconds, Anita
and Cat were on either side, easing her down.
"Hey," Georgia panted as Anita held her head. She took several
shallow breaths before speaking again. "I think we need a cab to the
hospital, too."

thirty-four

The cab snaked its way down a busy Broadway; it
was
barely one
P.M. and traffic was bad. "Step on it, buddy! And run all the yellow
lights."
"Wow, Darwin," puffed Lucie. "You really mean business."
"Yes I do," she said. "I'm a full-service labor coach,
instructions to cabbies included."
Lucie moaned as another contraction began to build. "Distract me,"
she begged.
"Um, okay, well," Darwin hadn't expected regular chitchat; she'd
prepped for discussing epidurals and demanding extra ice chips. "I really
finished the sweater. I sent it UPS to Los Angeles last night."
"A wool sweater to California."
"Yup," she said. "And not just any old wool: It's itchier than I
expected and I screwed up in a few places. Just what he wants: an ugly sweater
riddled with mistakes from a soon-to-be ex-wife."
"You don't know that's what he's planning," insisted Lucie, blowing
out small breaths.
Darwin shrugged. "There's always a chance," she admitted. "Now
let's breathe it out, Luce. I'm not letting you have this baby in a cab."

* * *

"Don't stop for yellow lights—and there's
a hundred bucks for you if you get us there pronto." Cat scrambled into
the back seat of the cab as Marty placed Georgia next to her. Anita had raced
downstairs to get help; K.C. had joined in to help
Peri
with the posters and they'd already plastered the deli window. Now they stood
by as Anita took her place alongside Georgia.
Peri
opened the passenger door and reached over the front seat to put her hand in
Georgia's for a moment, then leaned sideways for K.C. to do the same.
"You're tough, kid," said K.C. "We'll see you soon."
Marty shut the back door as K.C. and
Peri
joined him
on the street, watching the taxi pull a U-turn and head downtown.