Bundle of Joy? (25 page)

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Authors: Ariella Papa

BOOK: Bundle of Joy?
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“Easy, Joey,” Paul yelled over to us. In minutes Joey had
scrambled out of my lap and was running around the slippery deck. Paul yelled and chased after him.

“Someday you’re going to have to deal with that,” I said to Jamie.

“Someday sooner, you are,” she said and smiled.

The rest of the Jacobs family were already on the island and we sat on the verandah drinking margaritas after Maura picked us up. She whispered to me that the neighbors’ grandkids were coming to visit the following day and they were around Joey’s age so he would be occupied.

He was pretty excited to be on the island, and ran around the periphery of the building until the sun started going down and he was exhausted. Then he came and sat on his dad’s lap and Mr. Jacobs gave him a root beer.

Mike had marinated some Cornish game hens, which I knew he would be ridiculed for later. There were no jokes when he started the barbecue. We were all starving. Mr. Jacobs brought out some hot dogs and Maura got her potato salad. I was content being there again. For one thing, I had avoided a bike ride, and also it was nice to finally have a date. Joey was even behaving himself.

Joey didn’t say much as the adults talked during dinner. Occasionally someone would address him and be delighted by whatever he said. It was just about time for him to go to bed when he looked at Crystal. She had actually been considerate about not bringing up anything inappropriate in front of Joey. For once we were spared tales of her digestive or mental health concerns. She even refrained from mentioning past lovers.

“Are you a boy or a girl?” Joey asked her out of the blue.

“Joey,” Paul began to scold.

“That’s okay, Joey,” Crystal said. “I am a woman, Joey. And I am a lesbian.”

Oh
panayia mou.

“Crystal,” Jamie said, shocked. She had just put Ananda down, and looked like she was ready to relax.

“Well, honey, I’m not going to be the first one he meets.”

“It’s okay,” Paul said. “But, Joey, that isn’t very nice to ask people.”

“‘I don’t mind, Joey,” Crystal said. “I think sometimes we need to find answers. I admire your courage in asking me.”

We were all quiet after that statement. Mr. Jacobs and Mike busied themselves with the grill and Paul got up to join them.

“Do you know what a lesbian is?” Ana asked.

“Ana!” Jamie yelled. It was easier for her to reprimand her sister.

“Yes,” Joey said proudly.

“You do?” Paul asked from the grill. He was paying attention after all.

“Uh-huh,” Joey said, nodding emphatically.

“Where did you learn that?” Paul asked.

Joey shrugged.

“Did you learn it at school?” Crystal asked.

Joey looked confused and then shrugged.

“What
is
a lesbian?” Paul asked.

Joey thought about it for a minute and then said, “It’s when you touch butts.”

Children—so much to look forward to.

 

The next day, predictably, the Jacobses wanted to go on a bike ride. I thought I was going to be able to get out of it because Jamie wouldn’t want to leave Ananda. She wasn’t up to going, but she told me to go on ahead. She was just going to relax and keep an eye on Joey and the neighborhood grandkids who were swimming in the neighbor’s pool.

“I think I should stay with her,” I said to Paul.

“Come on, you’re not going to make me go with people I barely know, are you?”

“You’re getting along with them fine.”

“Voula, I came here to hang out with you. C’mon. I want to see you in your helmet.”

“I hate biking.”

“Mrs. Jacobs told me that’s all there is to do around here.”

“That and drink and swim. I prefer those.”

He cocked his head.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

 

So I was biking and I hated it. I hated huffing up the hill and I kept my brake on for most of the downhills. The Jacobses took off racing with one another. Paul would cycle in front of me, zigzagging and pop-a-wheelieing, and then wait for me by crossing back and forth across the road.

“I hope you’re being careful of cars,” I said when I finally caught up to him.

“I hope you’re being careful and not going too fast,” he teased.

“You’re the one who wanted to go biking.”

“Maybe I just wanted to get you alone.”

I glanced quickly at him and he winked. I could see him staring at me. How could he not worry about the road in front of him?

“I’ll tell you one thing—”

“What’s that?” He was really enjoying watching me struggle.

“The only thing I can feel between my legs is this bike. And I’m probably going to be sore.”

“Really. I might have just the thing for that.”

I sort of understood Jamie at that moment. With all the dirt on my face and the sweat on my body, sex was the last thing on my mind. We began to go uphill again. He was in great shape. He kept circling me. I wanted to get off the bike and walk, but I wouldn’t let myself do that in front of him.

“So the closing is this week, huh?”

“You know this already.”

“I know. I guess you’re gonna sign, huh?”

I looked over at him. “I hope you’re being careful of the cars, and yes, I am going to sign.”

We continued cycling up. I stood ungracefully. He raced up the hill and zipped back down to me and then resumed riding next to me.

“Is that okay?” I finally asked.

“It’s what you want.”

“Are you okay with it?”

“I guess so. I respect that you need your time. But tell me if I am wasting mine.”

“You’re not,” I said. I wanted to be emphatic, but I was having trouble breathing. We got to where the ground plateaued a bit, so I was able to concentrate on talking. “A year.”

“What about a year?”

“Give me a year to stand on my own. Then we can see.”

“A lot can change in a year.”

He was right, we both knew that. He was testing me, too.

“I’m willing to bet that my feelings won’t.” I could see him smiling, but I wasn’t about to look at him because we were coming to a steep downhill. There was even a sign with a truck doing something menacing on a triangle. I needed to stay in control.

“You think you’ll still love me in a year.”

“I think in a year I will still love you and you will talk me into going on a ride with you and I will be on this godforsaken bike once again.”

“Whoo-hoo,” he said, racing down the hill at top speed.

“Be careful,” I yelled.

He was way ahead of me. My heart was pounding and my upper lip was sweating. He turned into a dot. The Jacobses were even farther ahead. I was on my own. I kept squeezing the brake when I picked up speed. I tried not to, but I just couldn’t bring myself to go too fast. I thought of Cristina. I thought of her laugh and what Paul had said. She had been holding on tight as her fiancé speeded into the sunlight. She had never been so happy. She had thought,
I could die right now and I wouldn’t care.

I didn’t want to follow in her footsteps, but I was happy too. For the first time in a long time. It almost hurt. I knew Paul well enough to know he was patient and he would wait.

Many things, most things, I could not control. Sometimes I just had to go with everything. Just around the bend, there was a lemonade stand where in past summers we met up to get super-sweet lemonade. I was more than sure Paul would be there waiting for me. I wanted to get to him sooner.

I didn’t speed. I didn’t try any harder than usual to go fast. But I stopped squeezing the brake. And I coasted. All the way down the hill, around the bend, until I saw Paul smiling at me with two cups of lemonade, I coasted.

24

M
y closing was scheduled for the first Wednesday in June at three p.m. As soon as it was over, I would get the keys. Then I would slowly start moving in. I had two weeks before Armando’s friend from the restaurant, Pasquale, moved in. Armando was also planning on giving my office to someone else from his
paese
who was coming to America. I was sort of pleased that I didn’t have to find my replacement. In spite of my co-op board lies, I was really busy with all kinds of summer-themed articles and working hard to make my first “Pulling the Goalie” piece kick ass.

The closing was held at the co-op’s attorney’s office. I was the first one to arrive. At three-fifteen, Rob blew in full of apologies because his last closing had gone over the time he expected. Once he was there, they let us into the back conference room where the closing was going to be held. Maureen arrived shortly after and gave me a hug. I wondered if she could feel that I was shaking. This was all too adult.

As instructed, I had deposited all my bonds profit into my checking account and I knew that when I left, my savings was going to be depleted. Then Rob gave me a pep talk. I tried to
follow what he was saying but it seemed overly complicated. He kept mentioning letters and numbers and I felt like he should have squirted water into my face and rubbed my shoulders. I knew that this closing could last up to two hours—if anyone ever showed up.

“So you know that you aren’t getting the actual mortar and brick, right?” Rob said as if we had already reviewed this.

We probably had, but I didn’t remember. I looked at him blankly.

“I’m not?”

“No. In a co-op, it’s one of these weird New York City things. You’re buying shares of stock in a company, the co-op. Even though you pay hundreds of thousands of dollars, you don’t actually own the land.”

“I don’t?”

“No.”

Oh.

Then a guy arrived and introduced himself as the Payoff. I had no idea what his function was, and Rob explained that he was the guy who brought the documents that weren’t actually a title, something about personal property and not land. It was three-thirty. I had a sinking feeling.

“Who are we waiting for?” the co-op attorney asked when she came back in the room. I thought her name was Lena, but she said, “I’m the transfer agent.”

“Payoff,” the new guy said, and snapped his gum.

“We’re waiting on the bank and the sellers’ attorney,” Rob said.

The sellers weren’t coming as they had relocated to London. It was still baffling to me that two people had lived in that one small space.

“Oh, did I tell you she called and said she was going to be about forty-five minutes late?”

“She’s already beyond that,” Rob said, checking his watch. “Voula, can I run downstairs and get you a coffee?”

“Okay,” I said, starting to worry. Why would my lawyer be buying me anything?

While Rob was out of the office, a woman arrived and announced that she was the lender. She was a young woman in tight pants and biggish hair. She smiled brightly at me, and I returned the smile though I had no idea what her role was in all this.

When Rob returned, he explained that she was the person who controlled my mortgage. I was going to be handing some of the checks over to her. I sipped my coffee and it burned my tongue a little. Rob looked again at his watch and shook his head. I began to feel that he was my only ally in this. Without him I would drown.

“Well, it’s four-thirty, you can start signing some stuff, I guess. She can, right?” He looked at the lender, who nodded. Payoff was staring off into space.

“Okay,” Rob said.

He got out a legal pad and started writing down numbers explaining what checks I had to write and for what. The only thing I was sure of was the check I was writing to him. The rest made no sense, but I would have signed or done anything he asked at that point.

And so began the constant flow of paper that had to be signed in various spots and dated. Rob kept track of everything. I think I was developing a crush on him. Perhaps I had a thing for men who I thought could rescue me. At 5:20, the seller’s attorney walked in, apologizing. I looked up from the sheet about not caring about lead poisoning, to glare at her.

“Yeah,” Rob said, dismissively. “We already got her started. She’s about a third of the way done.”

A third? My hand was already beginning to hurt.

Then everyone started talking about different forms. I just kept on signing. Finally the Payoff said something about a certain numbered form not being cleared. I was barely paying attention, but the number they were talking about sounded just like the lien search Rob had told me was somehow important.

“I don’t know anything about that,” the seller’s attorney said.

“It’s not in your folder,” Rob said.

Something in his tone made me glance up, but no, he would handle it. I continued to get the papers.

“Well, it isn’t cleared,” Payoff said. Now that he was talking, he seemed to be throwing a wrench in the works.

“Let me see if I can get the sellers. It’s later in London,” the seller’s attorney said, as if none of us had ever experienced different time zones. She got in touch with them and started talking about this form. It was clear that she should have known about it when she looked into her folder, pulled out a piece of paper and said, “Oh.”

I stopped signing at that point and looked at Rob. Here was the moment for which I needed the life vest.

“Hold on a sec, Voula.”

I glanced over at Maureen. She also looked upset. Her commission was fading fast, for reasons I wasn’t sure of. They all started discussing making a phone call to some guy who seemed to be Payoff’s boss. They tried calling this guy, but as they had guessed, he was already gone. It was, after all, after six.

“Well, Voula, it looks like we are going to have to adjourn.”

I noticed that the Lender and Payoff were starting to pack up their bags.

“Oh,” I said. “So does that mean I get the keys?”

“No, we can’t continue.”

“Well, I signed everything, right?” I felt like I had signed everything. “Are you just going to call me when it’s worked out?”

“No, Voula, unfortunately we are going to have to come back and do this all again.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. But don’t worry, I won’t charge you any more.”

“So I can’t move in?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“I really apologize about this,” the seller’s attorney said.

I glared at her. She didn’t seem fazed and she left.

“I need to run, honey, for the nanny. I’ll call you,” Maureen said.

“Take care,” said Payoff.

It wasn’t his fault, but I hated him anyway.

“Best of luck to you,” the Lender said, shaking my hand. She appeared genuine. “I hope this works out.”

“Me, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Rob and the co-op attorney said repeatedly.

I guessed it was time for me to leave. Rob explained that there had been a lien placed on the sellers that wasn’t cleared. It was due to a home equity loan. He called it a UCC-1, which was different from a UCC-3 in a way I couldn’t understand, except to know that I had been knocked out.

It didn’t matter how much my hand ached or my tongue hurt, I didn’t have the key.

 

I called Paul as soon as I got out of there. It was after six-thirty. He answered his cell phone right away.

“Hey, I expected you an hour ago. How did it go?”

“It didn’t.” I felt like I had wasted so much time. “I sat there waiting for two hours and then started signing things and then it got adjourned because somebody didn’t check some dumb file.”

“Well, are you okay?”

“No, not really.” I felt like I wanted to walk away from the whole thing, but I wasn’t sure I could tell him that. “Do you want to get that drink? I think I really need it.”

“Um.” He sounded like he was hesitating. He had insisted that we hang out tonight and celebrate. “Sure, how about Tier Na Nog.”

“You really want to go there?” I liked that bar, but I thought we would go somewhere a little more special.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Well, I guess I’ll stop at home first.”

“No,” he said loudly. Then he calmed down. “I’m really close to there. Let’s just meet there. I have a feeling I’m going to be called in to work.”

“I thought you took off.”

“Yeah, but you never know.”

I was looking forward to just chilling out tonight; having some drinks, maybe a little dinner. I wouldn’t have minded a full body massage.

“Okay. I’ll go right there.”

 

Paul was waiting for me at the bar when I got there. He handed me a Bloody Mary and kissed my cheek. On the subway, I had been a bit annoyed with him for picking this place and perhaps having to work. When I saw him, I realized that I was really feeling defeated about the whole day.

“Hey,” I said, as he pulled me into a big hug.

We got a table by the window and I told him the whole story, what I understood of it. I appreciated that he had never again brought up his original offer of moving to Brooklyn.

“The worst part is, I’m jeopardizing my interest rate. It was only locked in for sixty days and then they charge you. My lawyer said the sellers would have to pay if the mortgage broker agrees to extend it, but what if she doesn’t?”

I felt like I was talking about things I didn’t understand.

“I’m sure she will, if the lawyer thinks she will.” He was talking to me, but once again, he was distracted.

“I’m starved,” I said. “Do you want to get a burger or something?”

“No, I’m not too hungry.” He was unusually matter-of-fact.

“Okay,” I said. Did that mean I couldn’t order anything?

Paul’s phone beeped. He looked at it and immediately started text messaging.

My mood soured again.

When he finally looked up from his cell phone, I was done with my drink. He started to say something, but then his cell phone beeped again. He looked down at it and then said, “You don’t want another drink, do you?”

“I kind of did,” I said.

“Well.” He glanced around. “Let’s go somewhere else. Actually, do you mind if we stop at your place? I want to change my shirt. I’m feeling a little sweaty and I know I left a couple of T-shirts at your place.”

“Fine,” I said.

Not only was my boyfriend not being particularly considerate after my day, he was also telling me far too much about his physical hygiene. Maybe this was what Jamie meant about the honeymoon period ending.

 

We walked back to my apartment. He took my hand and I held it limply. He didn’t seem to notice that I wasn’t my usual self. What was going on between us? We walked up the stairs. He was doing this annoying tapping against the banisters. Normally, I wouldn’t have noticed or cared about this. But after the adjourned closing, it got on my last nerve. He continued his drumming once we were on my floor. I shot him a look and he smiled. I opened the door and—

“Surprise!”

I almost jumped out of my skin. Crowded in my living room were not just Kelly and Armando with their significant others, but a few of my neighbors, Helen and her family, Diane, Joey, Georgia and Victor. Even Andrew Libman, the editor from
Financial Woman,
was there. For the first time ever he was dressed down in jeans. He looked younger than I had thought he was.

“What the hell is this?” I asked the group.

“Is a party,” Armando said. He came over and kissed both my cheeks.

“We wanted to have a going-away party and celebrate your closing,” Kelly said, giving me a hug.

“Well, that’s so nice,” I said. Never mind that I hadn’t actually closed. No one had ever had a surprise party or really any party for me. My parents never sent cupcakes to my grade school on my birthday. The closest I had come was the monthly Krispy Kreme celebration we used to have when I worked at the nonprofit.

“You should have seen her face,” Paul told the group. “She was getting so annoyed with me, I thought she was going to clock me.”

“I almost did,” I said, laughing. “I couldn’t believe how in
sensitive you were being.” I looked at everyone. “My closing was adjourned. It’s not going to be for another couple of weeks.”

“Well, we’re still celebrating,” Diane said. “Right?”

“Absolutely,” I said, picking Joey up. Kelly turned the music up and I danced Joey over to where Helen was holding my niece, Cristina. I kissed them both and then Andre and Spiro. I gestured to Joey and Cristina who were close in age. “Did they meet?”

“Yeah,” Helen said. “We had a hell of a time getting them quiet before you walked in. Jamie and Raj are on their way, I hear.”

“Cool.”

I made the rounds, to everyone. Then the bell rang and it was Jamie and Ananda. I ran over to give them a hug.

“Where’s Raj?”

“He’s bringing everything in from the cab.”

“Everything?”

Before she could answer, I saw Raj making the first of several trips with his hands full. He gave me a quick kiss and told me he would be back. Four trips up and down the stairs later, he was ready for a drink. Paul helped him move all the stuff into my room.

It appeared that Raj and Jamie had brought the whole nursery. There was the portable playpen, the car seat, a small changing sheet, a booster seat, multiple diaper and toy bags, and even a tub “in case we think we can get her to bed.” Wow!

Immediately food started emerging from the kitchen: bread-sticks wrapped in prosciutto, bruschetta, scallops in bacon, shrimp and polenta topped with blue cheese. When I went into my kitchen for another beer, I found Armando directing two of the restaurant staff. They were cutting up thin-crust pizzas.

“Armando, thank you. I can’t believe this.”

“I miss you very much,” he said. “You been a very good roommate.”

“So have you.” I gave him another hug. I knew that part of him was still upset about the fire. “You have been the best roommate.”

“We still see each other, after?” he asked.

“Of course, Armando,” I said. I was still holding on to his arms. “We’re friends.”

Jamie came into the kitchen, looking to refrigerate some bottles of breast milk. I told her and Armando about the adjourned closing. I suggested to Armando that I could move into my office if my closing wasn’t rescheduled in time for his friend to move in. He said that if necessary he could have his friend stay in his room. But he had been so accommodating of my schedule that I didn’t want to put him out. Then Jamie had her brilliant idea.

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