ex-husband’s younger, blonder new bride called for some reaction. Something more than the “Oh, you’re having your wisdom teeth pulled? Don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit” dental receptionist’s smile that felt as if someone had superglued her upper lip to her gums.
That’s me, Elaine thought. No point in making a scene.
She had not been raised to respond in anger, or with any other less-than-gracious emotion.
So never mind that she wanted to write Root Canal in the appointment book next to Steph Lowry’s name. Dignity was eternal.
“Thanks for manning the front, sweetie. I had to pee like a racehorse.” Sue Kelsey, Dr. G’s receptionist for the past nine years, elbowed Elaine away from the desk and ran a porcelain nail down the column of afternoon appointments.
“We’re double-booked with two fillings at six,” she groaned. “What a pisser. I won’t get out until seven.” The permed red curls she wore down to her shoulders bounced when she shook her head. “Rats. It’s a total waste of daylight savings time. I crave at least a little sunlight when I go home, you know? Are you out of here soon? Are you?” Sue slapped Elaine’s forearm with the back of her hand. “Hey.”
“Hmm?”
“Are you leaving soon?”
“Leaving?”
“Yeah. Going home. Sayonara. Hasta la vista. Outta here, suckers.” Squinting behind gold glitter-rimmed glasses, Sue studied her officemate. “What’s the matter with you? You look like you shot yourself full of Novocaine.”
Elaine struggled to focus. Novocaine sounded kind of nice right about now. A little afternoon respite. Like high tea, only numbing.
“I’m fine.” Elaine forced some cheer into her voice even though her stomach felt like it wanted to climb out through her mouth. A glance at her Timex—the one Kevin had given her three years ago on their tenth anniversary—told her it was four-thirteen. Unless tardiness was one of the new-and-improved Mrs. Lowry’s downfalls, she would be here any minute.
So typically sensitive of Kevin to recommend his first wife’s dentist for his second wife’s teeth.
Sue must have taken the appointment when Stephanie called. Had she noticed Steph’s last name? Elaine dreaded the thought of questions. Sue didn’t know about Stephanie. No one at the office knew that her husband had left her for a younger and depressingly firmer woman. All Elaine had told her co-workers was that she and Kevin had decided to split, they were both getting on with their lives and wished each other well…yadda, yadda.
Granted, diplomacy like that could be considered the coward’s way out, and, no, she didn’t expect Dr. Phil to ring her doorbell offering kudos on her outstanding coping skills. But it was easier this way. It was. She rarely saw her co-workers outside of work, anyway. And the truth was, it didn’t matter how nice you were: When your husband left you for the Tae-Bo instructor at your coed gym, people talked.
Elaine’s stomach gurgled, ulcerlike. If she could simply hide until this little quirk of fate had passed…
Grabbing her work, she retreated to the file cabinets against the far wall. She kept her head down and her back to Sue and the reception window, but she knew the moment Stephanie arrived. The hair on the nape of Elaine’s neck stood up and her bare ring finger started to spasm.
“Hi, I have a four-fifteen with Dr. Gussman.”
The high, nasal voice was unmistakable. Steph Lowry sounded like a canary with a sinus infection. It was her only unattractive attribute. Well, that and the fact that she stole other women’s husbands, but why quibble?
“Do you have a key for the little girl’s room?” Steph chirped after Sue asked her to sign in.
Elaine gritted her teeth hard enough to ruin all of Dr. Gussman’s fine work. Little girl’s room. Puh-lease! Like anyone needed a reminder that the bloom was still on Stephanie’s rose.
Apparently Sue handed over the key, because Stephanie cooed, “Ooh, thank you,” then giggled. “I have to go all the time now.” She spoke confidentially, woman to woman. “I had no idea it was so much work being pregnant!”
Sue murmured something in reply, but Elaine didn’t really hear. Her heart dropped and her stomach lurched. She was going to pass out….
No. She was going to vomit first and then pass out.
Locking her fingers around the cold metal drawer of the file cabinet, she sucked air in shallow breaths and wondered whether anyone would take her side if she remained upright by clasping her hands around the neck of a pregnant woman.
Elaine didn’t have to see Stephanie to be able to picture her. The image of the sunny California blonde who had been her casual acquaintance and her husband’s lover was printed indelibly on her mind.
Stephanie warbled another “thank you,” then left the office in search of the bathroom, and Sue went in back to tell Dr. Gussman his next patient had arrived. Elaine stood very, very still and tried not to toss her cookies. All at once she started to shake. Hanging on to the file cabinet, her arms tingled and her heart began to race. She felt dizzy and hot and clammy.
“I’ve got to get out of here.”
She didn’t stop to think twice. Wanting only to leave before Sue returned to her desk, Elaine took the few remaining files and shoved them behind the W’s in the bottom drawer. Grabbing her purse and the blue cardigan she’d brought with her this morning, she scribbled, “Finished early. See you tomorrow.—E.” on a yellow Post-It and stuck the paper to the appointment book. As calmly as she could, she moved through the waiting room then flew out the door and down the hall.
The elevators in the seventy-year-old building moved like sap down a maple tree. Unwilling to linger when Stephanie might emerge from the little mistress’s room at any moment, Elaine opted for the stairs.
Pregnant. Pregnant. Preg-Nant. The word repeated with every click of her heels down the cold, concrete steps. Kevin and Steph Lowry were with child. Divorce had only been the legal end to her marriage. This news was coup de grâce.
A chill ran through her. Struggling into her sweater twice—the first time, it was inside out—Elaine hung her purse over her shoulder, stuffed her balled hands into the cardigan’s deep pockets and continued down the stark stairwell.
All she had ever wanted was to be a wife and mother. She had loved her home, her yard and her neighborhood, her part-time job at Dr. Gussman’s and her volunteer work for the garden club. Kevin had always wanted more and better, but not she. All she had needed to make their life together complete was a child. But Kevin had said, “Let’s wait.” So they’d waited.
And waited. And waited.
The timing had never been right. There had always been something else Kevin thought they should do first, someplace he had wanted to visit, a new career move to focus on. Something. And she’d let it go, trusting in the day her husband would want a baby as much as she did. She’d wanted everything to be perfect.
Now she was thirty-seven with a biological clock that screamed “Cuckoo” every hour, and Kevin was off building a nest with Mrs. More and Better.
Elaine’s mind and feet began moving like the chorus in Riverdance as she ran down three flights of stairs. She was moving downhill, but with each step her chest seemed to grow tighter and heavier, her breath becoming more labored. Her skin felt hot; her head swam. Finally at the stairwell to the second floor, she started to stumble, catching herself just before she fell by bracing her palms on the wall. Her rubbery legs would not carry her another step.
Turning around, her back against the cold, flat concrete, Elaine allowed her quivering body to slip slowly down until she was seated with her knees to her chest. Bunching her sweater in her hands, she pressed her face into its folds…
And screamed.
And screamed…and screamed…and screamed.