Wiser (16 page)

I shook my head. “I’m going to pack up today and leave tonight,” I said. “It’s for the best. I don’t want to linger after telling Mama I’m not going to be working here anymore.”

Cocoa had tried to linger to say goodbye to everyone, and that’s how Mama had nearly killed her.

“How are you gonna tell Mama?” Shimmy asked. “You know how she gets.”

“I know,” I said. “But it’s not like she can keep me here against my will, right?”

The girls’ uncertain laughter told me that they weren’t sure, either.

“Well, I guess there’s no point in putting it off,” I said. “If I don’t come upstairs in half an hour, don’t send anybody. Run.”

It wasn’t the best thing to joke about, given Mama’s terrible temper and recent history, but I couldn’t help making light of it. It was all I could do to mask my own fear.

“We’ll go with you,” Pumpkin said suddenly.

“I don’t need bodyguards,” I protested.

“We’ll go downstairs and wait,” Cream put in. “We’ll wait for you at the bottom of the stairs while you talk to Mama. She’s been drinking in her office since we went down to grab breakfast. It’s one of her dark days.”

One of Mama’s dark days? Fantastic. None of them were particularly bright, but she drank the hardest on the dark days. They seemed to cycle through every now and then, but no one could pinpoint what caused them. It was just my luck to be telling her that I was leaving on one of the dark days.

“Okay,” I said, sighing heavily. “Let’s go, then.”

Like an honor guard, the girls filled in around me and followed me downstairs. I girded my loins for a fight, knocking firmly on the door to the office, but there wasn’t an answer.

“Mama?” I called. “It’s Blue. You in there?”

But I didn’t hear anything from inside. When I opened the door, she was stone cold passed out, an open bottle of whiskey drunk down to the halfway mark on her desk. The safe was open, and my eyes widened at the stacks of money it contained. It would be so easy to just clean it out, distribute it among the rest of the girls, and get the hell out of there, but there was no easier way to incite her murderous rage than to take cash from her.

Instead, I scribbled a note on a piece of paper on the desk.

“Mama,” it read. “Please accept my resignation, effective immediately. I have an opportunity elsewhere that I can’t pass up. Thank you for taking me in all those years ago. Blue.”

I rolled up the piece of paper and shoved it in the neck of the whiskey bottle, where I was sure she wouldn’t miss it. She snored on, oblivious to my presence, but I left all the same. I wanted to try to leave on good terms, not in a hail of bullets.

All of the girls at the bottom of the stairs visibly relaxed when I emerged.

“That went quietly,” Pumpkin observed as we climbed the stairs. “We expected shouting.”

“She was passed out,” I said. “I left a note.”

“Well played,” Shimmy said, clapping me on the shoulder.

The girls helped me pack, several even donating bags and suitcases so I could fit all of the clothes and things I’d accumulated. I felt lucky, even if I was sad to be leaving all of them. Cocoa hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye to any of them, so I was taking the time to give each a heartfelt goodbye. There were as many tears as there were laughs.

“Now, you all have my number,” I said, holding up the phone that Cocoa had sent me. “Call me if you ever need anything—and I mean anything.”

“Of course we will,” Shimmy said. “You call us, too.” She pointed at the landline that hung from the wall at the end of the hallway.

“I’m going to miss you all,” I said, trying not to cry as I looked at all my suitcases.

“Good luck with everything,” Pumpkin said, emphasizing the “everything” as she put her hand against my middle and hugged me.

“Thank you, Pumpkin,” I said, crushing her to me.

My honor guard of Mama’s girls carried my things downstairs and hailed me a cab. The driver ogled the bevy of beautiful girls, all of them in pajamas and robes except for me. I was still wearing my dress.

“Goodbye, Blue!” they cried.

“You all better get inside and start getting ready for work,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes. “Mama will have my hide whether I’m there or not if you’re late in opening the nightclub.”

We loaded my bags into the trunk of the cab and I gave the driver Dan’s address. There was one more round of hugs before they loaded me into the cab.

One more ending to my life, and one more beginning. I’d never looked forward to another beginning as I did going to Dan’s condo.

Dan was waiting outside his building when the cab pulled up, which I thought was sweet. I’d texted him when I was on my way and had gotten a smiley face in response. Dan the successful marketing partner. Texting smiley faces. It made me laugh. His loopy excitement was lifting my mood by the second.

Together with the doorman to the building, we carried my things upstairs to Dan’s condo. The place was breathtaking—I could definitely tell there was a designer living here. The floors were concrete, but they’d been treated with some kind of chemicals to induce random splotches and blemishes across the surface. It was a very interesting pattern throughout the space, and all of the walls were brick.

“Did it come like this?” I asked, enchanted as I touched the rough surface.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” Dan said ruefully, “but I actually laid each and every brick myself. I’d always wanted to live in a place with exposed brick walls, so one day I stopped wanting and started doing.”

“I like that,” I said, smiling at him.

The kitchen was an exercise in modernity, stuffed with every appliance imaginable.

“You’re going to have to teach me how to use some of these things,” I said, raising my eyebrows as I eyed the gadgets and gizmos tucked away beneath the open cabinetry.

“They’re designed to make life easier, not harder,” he said, laughing at me. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

My room still had the exposed brick and concrete floor of the rest of the condo, but the thing that I saw first was the bassinette at the foot of the bed. My breath caught, and I gasped at a sudden stirring inside my stomach.

“Are you okay?” Dan asked, dropping my bags on the floor and turning me to face him.

Unable to help myself, I burst into tears.

“You’re so nice,” I blubbered. “This is everything I could ever have hoped for. You didn’t have to do all of this, but you’re doing it all the same, and I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Dan took me in his arms, and I’d never felt so safe as I did in his embrace. He absorbed my irrational tears and smoothed one of his warm hands down my back.

“I’m sorry,” I said finally, when I’d calmed down. I didn’t back out of his hug, and I liked that he didn’t let me go. “I think it’s my pregnant hormones. I’ve been doing research, and volatile mood swings come with the territory, apparently. Last chance to back out on the roommate thing.”

Even though I was joking, my last sentence made my heart skip a beat. The stirring inside my stomach hadn’t stopped since I’d seen the bassinette.

“I’d never back out,” Dan said, resting his chin on the top of my head. “You’re too special, Blue.”

“My name’s Sandra Webber,” I said, feeling like it was important that he knew.

“Is that what you want to be called?”

I shook my head. “Blue is who I am, now. That’s who I’ll be.”

“Then Blue it is,” Dan said, releasing me from the hug.

“This room is really beautiful,” I said, taking in a richly patterned rug that covered much of the concrete. “The bassinette—thank you. It means a lot.”

I suddenly realized that the stirring I felt inside of me—like kernels of popcorn popping, really—was the baby kicking. The revelation made me cover my mouth with my hand.

“What is it?” Dan asked, looking concerned.

I grabbed his hand and shoved it against my stomach.

“It’s the first time this has happened,” I said, staring at him wonderingly. “That’s my baby, Dan. My baby started dancing when it realized we were home.”

Dan’s eyes were so soft that I was afraid I’d start crying again, but I held it together. Damn hormones.

“What can I do to make you comfortable?” Dan asked once we’d gotten the rest of my bags in the room and everything unpacked. “Are you tired? Bored? Hungry? Anything?”

“Hungry and tired, I think,” I admitted. “It was hard to say goodbye to all of the girls.”  While we’d been moving me in, I’d regaled Dan with stories about living in Mama’s nightclub. Now that I wasn’t going to be living there anymore, it had almost taken on a legendary status in my mind. It was easier to talk about all of the girls and all of our issues—good and bad—while Dan quietly absorbed it all, asking a few questions here and there. It was very much cathartic to spill everything to him.

Overall, I wanted to make sure he knew what he was getting into with me. I wanted him to know everything—and make his own decisions or judgments, especially since he’d opened his home to me. Dan opened his doors. It was the least I could do to respond in kind.

“I’m pretty sure hungry and tired means ordering pizza,” he said.

We both gasped as the baby kicked again.

“I think that means that the baby would really, really like some pizza,” Dan said, grinning.

“I think you’re right.”

We spent a comfortable evening together, Dan doing a little work on his laptop and me sketching a little, cozy in the sitting room of the condo. The couches contributed to the deconstructed look of the place, as they were overstuffed and threadbare in places.

“These were the first pieces of furniture that I ever bought for myself,” Dan explained. “I’ve never come across anything more comfortable. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just the sentimental value.”

“These are pretty comfortable couches,” I said, bouncing around on one.

After a glorious meal of pizza and soda—“Dinner of champions,” Dan joked—I decided to call it a night.

The bed in my room was comfortable, and after all the emotional turmoil of today, I found myself dozing off before I was even fully under the covers. I liked the sound of Dan moving around outside my room. And when it got quiet, I liked the feeling of both of us going to bed together—in separate rooms, maybe, but under the same roof.

I’d always been quick to adapt, but it was Dan who shaped his life around me. We’d walk to the firm together briskly each morning, both of us carrying bags and travel mugs of tea. Once there, I’d sit in on whatever client meetings he wanted me to and help develop ideas for campaigns. When I wasn’t doing that, I was learning design programs from Thor or Jemima, sitting behind them and taking copious notes in my sketchbook. I loved the time I spent at the firm.

But I loved the time I spent away from the firm, too. Dan loved to walk places, telling me that all great creators went on walks.

“Walks help soothe the soul,” he said as we drifted through Central Park, looking at the milieu lounging in the sun, exercising, and simply walking, like we were.

“They keep you from getting fat by sitting at a desk all day,” I offered, my belly at a robust six months.

Dan laughed at that. “They help you find inspiration out of everything,” he said. “You see things you wouldn’t otherwise see.”

Dan was all about inspiration, which I loved. I was filling sketchbook after sketchbook, drawing like I hadn’t done since I’d first gotten to New York. We went to museums and galleries, each place giving me new material, ideas of how to shape things in ways I’d never thought of before.

It was all the education I could’ve asked for without going to college.

“You can go to college, you know,” Dan said as we ate dinner at a place that had just recently opened near the condo.

“I’ve been saving money,” I said. My rate as a freelancer was a dream. I was adding more and more money to my savings with each completed project and every consultation.

“I could help you,” he continued. “We could work on a portfolio and see if you qualified for any grants or scholarships. If all else fails, I wouldn’t mind fronting the tuition.”

“Do you ever stop giving?” I asked, looking at me. “Don’t you get tired of it? All you do is give, give, give, and all I do is take, take, take.”

“You give me more than you know,” Dan said.

“My consultation?” I asked drily. “You pay me for that.”

Dan shrugged. “I really like having someone with me at the condo,” he admitted. “You brighten my life, Blue. I like going places and seeing things because you’re going and seeing with me.”

I flushed with pleasure. “I’m happy to tag along.”

“I mean it,” Dan persisted. “I’ve missed having a companion.”

“I’m your companion?” I teased.

“My very best friend.”

That touched me, warming me from the inside out. I covered his big hand with my small one and smiled at him. I couldn’t believe that this special man had found me. There was no one sweeter in the world.

With Dan’s help, I quickly started amassing baby products. The marketing firm threw me a baby shower, which gave me more things than I thought I’d ever use. We had to get a second chest of drawers for my room to contain it all.

And it was Dan who was by my side when I went for my first prenatal doctor’s appointment.

“I’m guessing this is long overdue,” I said, adjusting my blouse. I’d had to buy practically a whole new wardrobe with my belly getting bigger by the day.

“It is,” Dan said, taking my hand to help me from the bus, “but if you’ve been feeling fine, I’m sure everything will be okay.”

We’d taken public transportation across town to an obstetrician that someone from the firm had recommended to us. When my feet finally found the pavement from the step down, we didn’t let go of each other’s hands. It was kind of nice, holding his. It gave me comfort, especially since I didn’t really know what to expect from the doctor’s appointment. Doctors weren’t my favorite things in the world.

Once inside, I was seen almost immediately. I thought I’d at least have some time in the waiting room with Dan, but they were running ahead of schedule, the receptionist said cheerfully.

“I’ll be right out here,” Dan promised, standing up with me. I hadn’t released his hand, yet, and squeezed it even tighter.

“What if something’s wrong with the baby?” I asked, staring at the smiling nurse who was holding the door open for me. “It’ll be my fault, for not going sooner.”

“Blue, enough,” Dan said, stroking his thumb over my fingers. “Everything’s going to be fine. Do you want me to come with you?”

I expelled a breath that I’d been holding, hoping that I wouldn’t have to ask him.

“That would be really nice,” I said, and we walked hand in hand into the labyrinth of hallways and rooms until we got to one with an ultrasound.

“I need you to undress from the waist down,” the nurse told me. “You can put this sheet around yourself and wait for the doctor.”

She left me and I stared at Dan. “Why do I have to take my clothes off?” I asked, certain that my face was betraying how terrified I was.

“It’s part of the procedure,” Dan said. “Here. I’ll even turn around and give you some privacy.”

He gave me his back and I turned, too, to face away from him. How humiliating. First, I couldn’t muster the courage to go alone to my own doctor’s appointment. Second, I had to undress in front of Dan.

Sighing, I slipped out of my maternity jeans and folded them over my arm. I chanced a glance over my shoulder and saw Dan doing the exact same thing—peeking over his shoulder.

“Dan!” I shrieked, whirling around. Something about his little peek tickled my funny bone, and I started laughing. “You pervert!”

“I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, laughing, too. “I thought you might need something—I didn’t know what I was doing, Blue!”