The Year We Turned Forty (9 page)

Gabriela had finally made her way to the hospital. It had taken her an hour, but with the help of an old map in her glove compartment, she was able to chart her route. She'd rushed from the car to the front doors, but then she'd slowed her pace, tentatively making her way toward the maternity ward, down the maze of long hallways, all identical with their gleaming white floors and fluorescent lights. She'd willed herself not to look in the open doorways, feeling like a voyeur spying on private moments she shouldn't see.

She'd been both scared and excited to see her friends again,
knowing that laying eyes on them and
the baby
would prove that this
had
really happened. She'd finally found a sign pointing toward Jessie's room number, just past the hospital nursery lined with bassinets full of tiny swaddled babies. Gabriela had expected to keep walking, but her feet had other ideas, firmly anchoring her in front of the glass wall, forcing Gabriela to look inside. She'd studied the newborns, instantly imagining her own daughter, a long dark braid dangling down her back as she maneuvered across the monkey bars. She'd always had a feeling she and Colin would've had a little girl, and she'd have named her Bella. But she'd never told Colin, or anyone, about that premonition. Saying those things out loud would seem desperate and borderline crazy. Instead, she'd buried the thought, pushing it down until it finally settled in the place where she hid the things that hurt her most. But it worked its way to the surface today, and the name Bella echoed through her mind.

As she stared at the newborn babies, Gabriela began to feel daringly hopeful about her second chance. Instead of shutting down when she didn't get what she wanted, what if she
showed
Colin why having a child was so important to her—and why it would be so good for
them
?

She already knew how the next ten years without a baby were going to play out—they wouldn't involve biannual trips to places like Morocco and Johannesburg as Colin had predicted, her writing deadlines often making it impossible to leave the States for any stretch of time, unless it was to visit briefly one of the countries that had published her book. And they definitely wouldn't include regular sexcapades on the kitchen floor as he'd also promised. She remembered at one point when she'd been begging him to reconsider the baby, long after they should've gone to bed, their red eyes burning, their voices hoarse, Colin
had brought their sex life into it. It had always been good, but predictable: once a week on average, missionary, sometimes spicier if he'd had a couple pints of Guinness beforehand. He'd looked at her and said, “And don't forget, another benefit of being kid-free is we can have sex
anywhere
!” Then he'd thrown his hands into the air, adding, “even on the kitchen floor.” He'd been referencing one of Gabriela's favorite movies,
When Harry Met Sally
. But he'd gotten the context wrong and Gabriela's eyes had been so clouded with tears she could barely see him, her voice so dry from crying she couldn't speak. She'd just stared at him.
But they never did “do it” there. That's the whole point. The guy broke up with Meg Ryan's character and married someone else.

When she had walked into the hospital room, she found Grant sitting on the edge of the bed as Jessie breast-fed Lucas. Gabriela leaned against the doorframe, shocked to see the years peeled away from both of them. Jessie's eyes were brighter and her hair was shorter and a darker blond. She remembered when Jessie made the rash decision to chop seven inches off her long locks in her sixth month of pregnancy, then immediately regretted it, sobbing that it was a “mom cut” that made her bloated face look like a bowling ball. But it had grown out since then and really suited her petite facial features. And Grant's face was fuller, and his hair—it was still years before his hairline would begin to recede—was all there. Grant caught her staring, his unlined eyes taking in the look on her face, thinking it was meant for Lucas. “He's pretty amazing, isn't he?”

Gabriela nodded. When she first saw her own younger face that morning, she'd been mesmerized, studying it from every angle, feeling as if her reflection was a picture of herself she'd posted on Facebook for throwback Thursday. She'd run her
hands over her smooth, supple skin, still untouched by Botox or fillers, things she would come to rely on in just a few years, often scrutinizing herself to the point that Colin would hide the magazines when she appeared in them and accidentally “delete” her TV appearances off the DVR, always stressing that she was aging gracefully and there was no reason to be comparing herself to women in their twenties. But she couldn't help it, especially because her mother had been the most naturally stunning woman in the world to Gabriela, her beauty freezing in time when she died at thirty-eight. Gabriela sometimes stared at her photo and tried to picture her mother aging, but couldn't imagine so much as a line on her face.

Gabriela had nearly collided with Claire at the hospital entrance, the bright sun momentarily blinding Gabriela as she'd searched for her sunglasses. They'd regarded each other with quiet awe, whispering and giggling like two teenagers with a secret. Gabriela filled her in on what was happening in Jessie's room. That they hadn't been able to get more than a few minutes alone because Grant was hovering over the baby. Finally, they sent him on a mission to find a tabloid magazine Jessie said she just
had to read
, agreeing they'd meet up to talk in more detail after Jessie was released the next afternoon. Claire quickly brought Gabriela up to speed on her own morning—waking up next to a very naked and (how had she forgotten?) well-endowed Mason. Then her smile faded and she confided to Gabriela that she thought coming back had been, pardon the pun, a
hug
e mistake, and she needed to get the hell out of there fast. That she hadn't thought things through when she'd agreed. She had let Jessie's unbridled enthusiasm get the best of her in the moment.

As she listened, Gabriela felt her unborn baby start to slip
away. If one of them wasn't resolute in being here, did that mean they would all have to go back? But Gabriela didn't want to push Claire. She thought of Colin, and decided that wasn't the approach she wanted to take with
anyone
this time. She'd have to be more subtly persuasive. So she reassured Claire that she understood her anxiety and encouraged her to be open-minded when she saw Jessie.

By the time Gabriela got home, she was emotionally exhausted. She laid her handbag on the kitchen counter and looked for a bottle of her favorite coconut water in the fridge, before remembering it would be years before that drink hit the market. She settled on some spring water instead. Last time, the morning after Colin said he hadn't wanted a baby, she'd woken with a dry, scratchy throat that no amount of water she consumed could seem to repair. She'd taken a long run on the beach, the sound of her heavy breathing pumping through her ears. Then she'd hidden in her office the rest of the day, staring blankly at her computer screen, willing the words for her next novel to come while refusing any offers of food or drink or apology from Colin, who'd called in sick to work.

This time, she decided to put the baby discussion on the back burner. She wanted to see Colin again, to take him in as he was. She pushed through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the living room and found him on the leather chair, staring out the window. Their view in Hermosa Beach really had been spectacular. Gabriela had forgotten how the two palm trees outside had politely bent apart, as if knowing they'd block the distant strip of Pacific Ocean otherwise.

“Hey,” she said softly, and offered him a shy smile when he turned, thinking how unfair it was that he looked nearly the same now as he would at fifty-five, still tall and naturally thin
with a full head of red hair that would become only subtly speckled with gray. Colin's agelessness seemed effortless.

“Hey,” he echoed cautiously, trying to evaluate Gabriela's state of mind as he stretched his toned arms over his head, exposing rings of sweat. She noticed his running shoes kicked off next to him, realizing he'd just returned from a workout on the beach. Gabriela hadn't thought about the boot camp class he used to take in a long time, the one he'd tried to coax her into joining. But she'd said no, not just because she had zero desire to be screamed at by a drill sergeant instructor at 6 a.m., but also because she was a solo exerciser needing the time to work out plot points in her head.

She perched herself on the wide arm of his chair and smiled wanly. “So,” she began. She knew from experience what
not
to say. But she still wasn't sure what the right words were that would unlock the man who had wanted a baby for so long. So she decided to apply one of the rules of writing: to show, not tell.

“Here he is,” she said, holding up her BlackBerry with a tiny picture of Lucas she'd finally figured out how to take on her phone, his red, scrunched-up face now staring at them.

“Will you look at that,” Colin said, cradling the phone gently as if it were an actual baby.

“The name Lucas fits him perfectly, don't you think?” she remarked as she studied Colin's face for more of a reaction. Although what did she expect? She knew he wasn't going to burst into tears and tell her this grainy image of a baby would change his mind.

“It suits him,” he said, his answer sounding clipped and tentative, as if he were afraid to expound on it. Or maybe he didn't want to.

“Jessie's doing well,” Gabriela offered, filling the silence,
realizing her voice sounded a bit forced, like a salesperson who finally had a customer. She cleared her throat before continuing, choosing her words carefully. “And Grant, he was beaming. He kept saying he was so happy he finally had a son.”

“That's great,” Colin said as he handed the BlackBerry back to her. The purple shadows under his eyes showed the toll the argument had taken. She knew he was deliberately being cautious, unsure if Gabriela was going to lash out at him again at any second. She didn't blame him. She'd always had a temper, but she barely recognized herself the night they'd fought about the baby. As the hours ticked by and their fight continued to move in circles, she'd screamed, she'd thrown things, she'd become a version of herself she'd never seen before. But she'd been in such a hysterical rage that she hadn't been able to stop herself. And now, with ten years of reflection, she almost laughed. Did she really think that kind of behavior was going to encourage him to change his mind? That after she'd shattered their wedding picture against the wall, he'd scoop her up in his arms and make love to her right then and there without using protection? She let her gaze fall to the spot on the hardwood floor where the picture had landed, but there was no trace of it. Colin must have already cleaned up the shards of glass.

“About last night,” Gabriela started, then stopped when she noticed Colin's shoulders stiffen. She put her hand over his before continuing. “I'm sorry, so very sorry.”

Colin blinked at her several times. The last thing she'd spit at him before barreling toward the guest room had been hateful, and she'd instantly regretted it. But still she'd continued forward, as if her anger were wheels beneath her feet, and slammed the door behind her.
Maybe it's for the best
—
you'd make a lousy father anyway.

“I didn't mean what I said,” she said softly. “I was just so upset.”

Colin stared at the ceiling for several seconds, as if replaying Gabriela's hurtful words in his head. “I know,” he finally replied in a tone that made Gabriela feel as if he didn't know anything at all.

Even in her anger, she'd never been one to wield insults like weapons, especially with Colin, but she'd felt something snap inside her that night, a fissure that caused her to spin out of control. She was shocked by how fresh the argument seemed now, how the words prickled her skin as if she'd really screamed them just the night before. “If I could take it back, I would.” Gabriela inched her body closer to him. “Because I know you'd be a great dad.” She followed Colin's gaze outside, both of them watching a neighbor plant something in her herb garden. “That's actually why I think I was so upset.”

“I'm sorry too,” Colin finally said. “That I can't give you what you want.”

“I know you are,” Gabriela said, thinking of the last decade of their marriage. It had been solid. While so many of her friends had suffered through terrible, heart-wrenching divorces, suddenly only able to see their children part of the time, she and Colin had not only stayed together, they'd stayed happy together. Sure, the baby they never had had always been there, just under the surface, like a cyst about to burst. And Colin had tried in so many other ways to make up for the
no
he'd given her that night. He'd said yes to building the enormous house they didn't need and diligently stood by her side as her star rose higher and higher, never blinking when it overshadowed his own successful career as a lawyer. And even now, she wanted that version of their marriage to be enough for her. But she couldn't get it out
of her mind that she'd settled when she'd accepted his answer. That there was a reason she was chosen to come back and change things.

“So what now?” Colin asked her, and she watched his Adam's apple jut out as he swallowed hard.

“Well, I was hoping you'd come with me to buy a gift for the baby,” Gabriela said, surprising herself as she said it. She'd practically shunned Lucas the first time and had let Colin turn his back on him too, the pain too raw for both of them, their union too fragile to be reminded of what they would never have. And she wasn't going to let either of them make that mistake again.