Wife 22 (39 page)

Shonda hands Pat a pink box wrapped in glittery ribbon. “I know I’m supposed to bring something for the baby, but tough. You’re the one who
needs a present right now. Miracle Serum of Light Complexion Illuminator. Not that you need it, sweetheart.”

“It sounds like a church,” says Tita.

“Oh, it is,” says Shonda. “Once you start using it, you’ll be worshiping at MSLCI’s altar forever, trust me.”

“You finally got your boy,” I say.

“What am I going to do with a boy?” says Pat. “All I know is girls.”

“Cover his wee-wee when you change his diaper,” I tell her.

“And how long should she refer to it as a wee-wee?” asks Shonda.

“A month, two months tops,” I say. “Then you can graduate to penie.”

“None of this wee-wee and penie silliness. You should call it a penis from the beginning,” says Tita.

“You feel very strongly about that, Tita, don’t you,” says Shonda.

“I hate it when people make up ridiculous names for their
hoo-hoos
,” says Tita.

“Do you want to hold him?” Pat asks me.

“Could I? I already washed my hands.”

“Of course. Go sit in the rocker with him.”

She carefully hands me the baby. He’s asleep, so I tiptoe over to the rocker. Once I’m seated, I take a good look at him: the perfect bow-shaped lips, the tiny fist curled up against his cheek. I sigh happily.

“You could do it again, Alice,” says Pat. “You’re only forty-four. My friend just got pregnant and she’s forty-five.”

“God, no,” I whisper. “I’m done with all that. My babies are nearly grown. I’ll just have a baby vicariously through you. I’ll take him anytime you need a break. Day or night, you just call and I’ll take him,” I say. “I mean that, Pat. I’m not just saying it.”

“I know you’re not,” says Pat.

“You’re crying, Alice,” says Tita.

“I know,” I say. “Newborns always make me cry.”

“How come?” asks Shonda.

“They’re just so vulnerable. So defenseless. So pure.”

“Uh-huh,” says Shonda.

“You’re crying, Shonda,” says Tita.

“So are you, Tita,” says Shonda.

“I’m not crying,” says Pat, sniffling.

We’re all in different parts of the room, but it feels like we’ve joined hands. This is what happens with the Mumble Bumbles—this sudden sort of swelling and gathering each other up.

“When I was young, forty-five seemed so old,” I say. “My mother seemed so old.”

Liam uncurls his fist and I slide in my pinkie. He grasps it tightly and brings it to his mouth.

“But now that I’m almost forty-five it seems so young. My mother was such a baby. She had so much life ahead of her.”

“And so do you,” says Tita softly.

“I’ve gotten everything all wrong. Zoe doesn’t have an eating disorder. Peter isn’t gay.”

“Just because she passed away doesn’t mean you can’t speak to her, Alice,” says Shonda.

“That marriage study was a stupid idea. I screwed up at work.”

“The conversation never stops,” says Tita.

I nestle my face into Liam’s blankets. “He’s so beautiful.”

“She’d want you to pass her, Alice,” says Shonda.

“Please, please let me take care of him sometimes,” I beg, standing up.

“To not pass her would be a betrayal,” says Pat.

“I feel like I’m saying goodbye,” I say.

“Not just goodbye, but hello,” says Tita. “There you are. Hello, Alice Buckle.”

I walk to Pat’s bedside, tears streaming down my face, and hand Liam back to her.

“Everybody dreads their tipping-point year,” says Tita. “They think if they just don’t pay attention to it, it’ll go away. I don’t know why you all make such a big fuss. Not when
this
is what’s on the other side of it.”

The Mumble Bumbles gather around me and soon we’re a crying, hugging mob, one tiny human in the middle of us, the future, his finger pointed up toward the sky.

Me:
Here’s the pasta sauce. I brought two kinds. Mushroom and three-cheese.

Nedra:
That’s very nice, but you’re an hour early.

Zoe:
Is Jude home?

Nedra:
In his room, darling. Go on in. What time does the movie start?

Zoe:
Seven.

Nedra:
Have fun!

Me:
I thought we could go over the maid-of-honor responsibilities.

Nedra
(
watching Zoe walk away
): This makes me very, very happy. The two of them back together. Does it make you happy?

Me:
Did you hear what I just said?

Nedra:
Show up.

Me:
I’m right here.

Nedra:
On my wedding day—show up. That is your responsibility.

Me:
Done. I’ll even wear a hideous Queen Victoria dress.

Nedra:
I bought you a beautiful dress.

Me:
You did?

Nedra:
A halter-top. Very flattering. You’ve got great shoulders and arms. You should show them off.

Me:
I have something to tell you. About Researcher 101.

Nedra:
You don’t have to tell me anything, Alice. In fact, I’d rather not hear it. La-la-la-la-la.

Me:
I think it’s over.

Nedra
(
sighing
): It wasn’t over before?

Me:
He’s going to try and make it work with his wife.

Nedra:
He has a
wife
?

Me:
Stop, Nedra. Please. I just told you it’s over.

Nedra:
So you’re going to try and make it work with William?

Me:
Well, that’s the funny thing. It doesn’t seem like work right now.

Bobby
(
walking into the kitchen
): Ladies! I know I’m early. I hope I’m not interrupting. But look at this gorge-o bread. Smell it. Here (
ripping off the end
). La Farine. Just out of the oven. Have a bite.

Nedra:
Where’s Linda?

Bobby:
She’s not going to be able to make it.

Me:
Well, looks like we’ll all be partnerless. William and Kate can’t make it either.

Nedra:
What’s Linda’s excuse?

Bobby:
She’s divorcing me. I got the potluck. She got everything else.

Nedra:
I hate to say it, but I knew the twin master suites were the beginning of the end.

Bobby:
I want to get high. I deserve to get high. Do you have any pot, Nedra? Alice, you don’t have to sit so far away. Divorce is not contagious.

Nedra:
Actually, you’re wrong. Divorce
is
a sort of contagion. I see it all the time. A man comes in looking for representation and then a few weeks later another man comes in, a friend of the first man, just wanting to know his rights and all, but just in case, he’s brought along a comprehensive list of all the marital assets, the last three years of income tax returns, and a recent pay stub. Alice, you stay right where you are.

Bobby
(
starting to cry
): She wants to move to New York to be closer to the kids.

Nedra
(
getting up
): Bloody hell. Hold on.

Me
(
sitting next to him on the couch
): Don’t cry, Bobby B.

Bobby:
I love it when you call me that. You’re such a nice woman. Why didn’t I marry
you
?

Me:
I’m no prize, believe me.

Bobby:
I’ve always envied William.

Me:
You have?

Bobby:
Even after twenty years together, the two of you are still so connected.

Me:
We are?

Bobby:
It used to drive Linda crazy. She thought you guys were faking it. I told her you can’t fake passion like that.

Nedra
(
walking back into the room, holding a joint
): Success!

Me:
Jude smokes?

Nedra
(
lighting the joint and inhaling
): Of course not. It’s mine.

Me:
You
have your own supply?

Nedra
(
handing the joint to Bobby
): Here you go, darling. It’s the good stuff. Very clean. I have a medical condition.

Me:
What’s your medical condition?

Bobby
(
taking a big toke, and then another and then another
): Oh, Jesus, that’s good.

Nedra:
You don’t believe me?

Me:
No, Nedra, I don’t.

Nedra:
It’s in the
DSM
. It’s an actual disorder.

Me:
What’s it called?

Nedra:
Middle age.

Bobby
(
coughing
): I have that, too.

Nedra:
There’s only one known cure.

Bobby:
What’s that?

Nedra:
Old age.

Bobby
(
cackling
): Is it the Mary Jane, or is Nedra suddenly really funny?

Me:
Mary Jane?
Just how old
are
you, Bobby B?

Nedra
(
inhaling deeply, then looking at the joint
): I’m getting married. Can you believe it? Me? A bride?

Bobby:
Will you represent me in the divorce?

Nedra:
I wish I could, darling. But I know the both of you. It wouldn’t be fair. I can recommend somebody very good.

Zoe
(
walking into the living room with Jude
): Quick, get the camera so we can take pictures of them and they’ll be so embarrassed and horrified they’ll never touch the stuff again.

Me:
Oh, my God, Zoe! What are you doing here? I am not smoking, for your information. I haven’t taken one hit.

Nedra:
This is very rude of you. To just walk in on us and invade our privacy. I thought you went to the movies.

Jude:
Do you think this is a rave?

Zoe:
You do realize pot is much stronger these days than it was when you were growing up?

Jude:
Frequently it’s dipped in embalming fluid.

Zoe:
One puff could trigger schizophrenia.

Nedra:
In a teenage brain—with an unconnected frontal lobe. Our frontal lobes have been connected for decades now.

Bobby:
Blame it on me.

Nedra:
Blame it on Linda.

Jude
(
reaching for his guitar
): Well, since you’re all high and everything, would you like to hear a song?

Me:
I’m not high. And I would. I would really like to hear a song, Jude.

Zoe
(
blushing
): It’s called “Even Though.”

Bobby:
Hold on. I have to lie on the carpet for this.

Me:
Me, too.

Nedra:
Move over.

Me:
I feel like I’m in high school.

Bobby
(
starting to cry again, softly
): There’s something about being stoned and lying on the floor.

Me
(
reaching for Bobby’s hand
)

Nedra
(
reaching for Bobby’s other hand
)

Jude
(
strumming the guitar, looking at Zoe
): I wrote it for Zoe.

Bobby
(
moaning
): Ohhh!

Jude:
Is he okay? Should I stop?

Bobby
(
clutching his heart
): Ahhhh!

Jude:
What? What is it?

Nedra:
He means play, darling. He means the world needs more love songs. He means
bonne chance
and
glück und den besten wünschen
and
buona fortuna
. He means “how wonderful it is to be young.”

Bobby
(
sobbing
): That’s exactly what I mean. How did you know?

Me:
Nedra is fluent in moans.