Chapter 25 New Stages
New Stages
“No way.”
“But…”
“Did you not hear me?” I asked. “N. O. That spells no.”
“You’re so boring.”
I looked closely at the sheets he was showing me—the famous Kill Bill sheets he’d brought up before—with their illustrations of swords and blood and people in black-and-yellow suits. I shook my head and kept pacing through the bedding aisle.
“I’m not sleeping with those,” I told him.
“Not even if this comes with it?” He waved a hand from his chest to his abdominals.
“Not even,” I said, reminding him that we’d made an agreement: every choice we made there that day we had to both agree on. Mike, shuffling behind us and eating an ice cream, butted in: “Can I add something?”
“No,” Jack responded.
We stopped in the aisle and looked back at him.
I hadn’t been wild about the idea of having him act as our personal decor consultant, but that was Mike—you just couldn’t get rid of him.
Snubbed, he skipped off ahead of us, amused at his brother’s annoyance.
I took Jack’s arm, trying to be grateful that I’d even gotten him out the door.
Shopping had never been his thing, and he was even more wary now that he was starting to get recognized in public.
Already, two people had noticed him, and one had snapped a photo.
He grumbled again, and I reminded him that he was the one who had insisted on getting new furniture.
“I was young and innocent!” he protested. “I had no idea what the consequences would be.”
“Well, you’ve got to deal with them now. And that means going to the baby section.”
I was surprised that remark got a smile out of him.
But then, I’d been surprised at how happy he had been ever since we found out I was pregnant.
I mean, I was, too, but I was terrified as well.
I wasn’t sure I was responsible enough to bring another life into this world, and didn’t know how I’d handle such a big change.
It was exciting, but when I really thought about it, I could feel the ground sink beneath my feet.
So I tried to take it one step at a time.
And that meant shopping. Not that we needed much: Will and Naya had given us Jane’s old things.
The hip carrier, the Montessori mirror, the nasal aspirator…
half this stuff I had never even heard of, but apparently you had to have it all now—that’s what I’d learned from all the Facebook and Instagram accounts about modern parenting Naya had shown me.
“Jack, what the hell are you doing with all those frames?” I asked, emerging from my trance.
“Baby photos…that’s a thing, right? Don’t tell me we’re not going to take a bunch of photos of our kid?”
I smiled, but then I saw that one of them had a stock photo of two grandparents cradling a child, and that reminded me of an issue I hadn’t intended to bring up yet.
But Jack could read me like a book, so there was no point in hiding it.
“Listen, I wanted to ask you something,” I said.
“I know we haven’t talked about it yet, but… ”
“No,” he said softly. “I’m not telling him anything.”
I knew who him was. Jack’s father, of course.
We hadn’t talked about him in forever. Why would we?
He was a mean old man, and he’d never done much for either of us.
But things had changed. We were getting married and having a kid.
Were we really going to shut him out forever?
I knew I couldn’t force Jack to reconcile with his father, and I didn’t even want to.
But I needed him to know that the option was open.
“Whatever you want to do, I support you one hundred percent,” I said gently. “I don’t care if you tell him about the kid, I don’t care if he doesn’t come to the wedding, it’s your call. I just want you to know that if you ever do decide to tell him, I’m OK with it.”
Jack thought it over for a minute, looking at the same stock picture that had made me wonder about all this, and shook his head. “Our child deserves to grow up in a loving family, not around someone like Dad.”
“Perfect,” I said. “I won’t bring it up again. He’s your father. That means everything that has to do with him is your decision.”
He tried to play it cool, but I could tell he was relieved.
I didn’t feel the need to add anything as I grabbed his arm and dragged him down another aisle.
When we finally finished, we had two loaded shopping carts and very little desire to deal with the stuff inside them.
We discovered Mike waiting for us by the door with a bag of gummies in his hand, which he didn’t offer to Jack and which he hid behind his back when Jack tried to snatch one.
I had a way with Uncle Mike, though, as I’d taken to calling him.
When I reminded him I was eating for two now, he let me have as many as I asked for.
Thankfully, the brothers got along, more or less, as we drove to the lake house.
We’d been taking things out there bit by bit for the last two weeks, and by now, all that was missing was our clothing, which we’d left for last.
I should mention that Mike was now a part of this we.
I noticed one day he’d slipped a bag of his things in with ours when we were packing, and I’d mentioned it to Jack.
There was a big fight about it, then the two of them stopped talking to each other for a while.
Mike said he didn’t understand what the big deal was: technically, the house was half his, and all he was asking for was to stay in the guesthouse for a few months, just until he found a job.
But in all the years I’d known Mike, he’d never once had any steady work, and Jack and I both feared a few months meant forever.
Not that I minded so much. The guesthouse was far enough away that I assumed we’d have our privacy—more than we’d had in the apartment, at any rate.
Jack refused to bend, though, until one day when he said out of the blue, “OK, Mike. You win. But there’s a catch: you’re not sticking around for free.
There’s not going to be any more scrounging.
You’re an adult, and it’s time you lived like one.
The property needs a gardener. If you want the job, you’re hired.
I’ll include room and board at the guesthouse as part of your wages. ”
“Gardening sucks, though! Can’t I be your chef instead?” Mike asked.
“Mike,” Jack responded, “you couldn’t boil an egg if your life depended on it. You can be the gardener and live in the guesthouse, or you can find something else. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”
There was no danger of Mike finding anything else, so now we were stuck with him.
As we dropped everything off, I looked in a corner where a stack of canvases stood wrapped in brown paper.
Those were my dreams: my paintings, the ones I was hoping to make my name with.
Mary had told me they were good, and she was planning a show for me at her gallery.
She saw something in me, she said, but I’d need to work my fingers to the bone; I was too raw.
She gave me assignments to improve my technique: portraits, still lifes, landscapes.
She was an expert, so there was no point in arguing, and I did everything she said—anyway, I loved it, and I was excited to see if these finished pieces would go anywhere.
Even though I’d gone through countless tubes of paint, I still held onto the box Jack had given me.
It was there on the table now. Just before we left, as Jack and Mike were dropping the last of our shopping bags in the corner, I looked at it again, winking at Jack and asking, “Are you guys ready?”
We had spent our last night at the apartment, and we were having a special dinner to say goodbye.
I was looking forward to it, because of the celebration and because I was starving, too.
But I wasn’t too excited about Naya’s cooking.
She had insisted on taking care of everything, which was sweet of her, but even after years of motherhood, she still couldn’t cook to save her life.
When we got back, everyone was sitting on the sofas and chairs.
Naya had already set out our meal. It was at least recognizable as spaghetti—the kind of mushy, sludgy spaghetti they serve at a high school cafeteria.
Everyone dumped parmesan cheese on the pasta until it looked like a little hill of snow, and that helped us swallow it down without too many complaints.
At one point, Jane jumped up with a smile and ran over to hop in Mike’s lap. After all that time, they still had a special connection.
“Christ, I hope she develops better taste in men one day,” Sue joked.
Naya asked how the preparations were going at the new house, and when she could come see it.
I said she was welcome any time, but she should really give us time to furnish it.
That sounded so adult, but I guess we were adults now.
I mentioned that, and everyone argued with me: Naya said she was a young adult, a post-adolescent, still a kid, basically.
When Mike joked she’d soon be one of those middle-aged women who lies about her age, Naya asked, “I just want to make sure, you guys are taking him with you, right?”
“As long as he behaves,” I said. “He’s staying in the guesthouse. That’s conditional on him staying out of our hair.”
“I’m not a dog,” Mike butted in, “I can speak for myself. Anyway, I have an important role at the lake house, I’m the gardener, in case you haven’t heard. So Dad will have to shut up about how I’ve never made anything of myself.”
“You must be proud,” Sue said, “taking your brother’s money to live on his property.”
“Our property,” Mike fired back. “And I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve got a queen bed. It’s too big for just me. Maybe you want to come live with me, Sue.”
“I’d rather sleep on the floor of a gas station bathroom,” she replied. “Anyway, this is my last night here, too. I’ve got to start my own job.”
I never thought there was much love lost between them, but every time Sue reminded us that she was leaving, Naya got all sentimental.
Jane could tell, and threw her arms around her—it said something that a little child was better able to handle life’s ups and downs than Naya, but so it goes.
“You guys all up and decided to leave me on my own!” she wailed.
Will reminded her, “Excuse me, I’m here, and your daughter’s not going anywhere, either.”
“Whatever,” Naya complained. “It’s different. We’ll never have our old life back, and it makes me sad.”
“It’s not so far,” I told her. “Sue’s an hour away by car, and the same for us. You can come visit whenever you want.” Jack had zoned out watching TV, but when I nudged him in the ribs, he nodded, probably unaware of what we were talking about, and said, “Yeah, for sure.”
That got a smile out of Naya, and her good mood lasted until we went back into the bedroom to get the last of our things. Then she started whimpering again and asked, “Can’t you guys just stay one more night? Please?”
Will touched her shoulder. “Babe, this has to happen, OK? Life goes on. Jenna’s going to have a baby, they’ve got a new home…it really is time.”
Naya nodded and watched us packing up. It was heartbreaking, seeing how sad she was, but what was I supposed to do?
On an impulse, I said, “Let’s do a selfie!
” That was music to Naya’s ears, even if everyone else in the apartment found it horrifying, especially Sue, whom I grabbed and pulled into the crowd as she protested, “I don’t do photos! ”
“It’s just one! For old time’s sake! Naya’s right, we’re going to look back on these years one day and we’ll wish we could have them back,” I told her. “And it’ll be good to have a photo to take a little trip back in time.”
I guess that was convincing, because she stopped struggling and we all piled in on the couch, except for Jane.
She’d fallen asleep and looked like a little angel, so we left her there.
Once we were in our places, with Sue in the middle, a couple on either side of her, and Mike behind us grinning like an idiot, Naya shouted, “SMILE!” We heard the click of the camera a second later.
As Naya stared at the photo and said, “Amazing,” Jack reminded me we had to leave. We hugged and said a long series of goodbyes. I had to grin as Naya needled Jack about his cool attitude until he finally admitted that he’d miss everyone.
“I knew you were a softy deep down,” she shouted, squeezing him tight. “You can go now. I just needed to hear you tell us you loved us.”
“I didn’t say I loved you guys, I said I’d miss you,” Jack countered.
“Same difference,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.
Tired of the back-and-forth, Mike declared himself tired and we walked out into the hallway.
I felt a knot in my throat. I guess Naya wasn’t the only cornball in our group.
This really was it—the end of something.
And I was ready for what was going to come next, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a part of me that longed to stay behind with my second family.
For better or for worse, we had all chosen each other, and looking back, I don’t think I could have found better people to spend my college years with.
Grinning, I said, “You guys behave, all right?”
A tear rolled down Naya’s cheek, Will smiled, and Sue stood there with her arms crossed.
“You, too,” Will said.
Jack grabbed my hand. Sue finally managed to show a human emotion, asking, “We are going to hang out again, right? You guys said so. I’m taking that as a promise.”
Impulsively, I threw myself at her and squeezed her until she screamed for me to let her go. “Group hug!” Naya called out, and everyone wrapped around us. We swayed together a few minutes longer, then Mike, Jack, and I walked down to the car.
As I watched the highway roll past us in the nighttime, everything was silent except for Mike snoring in the back seat. I looked over at Jack, who seemed pensive. His hand was on the gearshift. I reached over and grabbed it.
“I’m remembering something my therapist told me about stages in life,” I told him. “How every time a door closes behind you, a new one opens.”
He smiled. “Does it lead to a better place or a worse one?”
I laughed. “What we’ve experienced together has been incredible, Jack. But something tells me the future is going to be even better.”
“I think so, too.”
I pulled his hand into my lap and felt his thumb tracing out the edge of my engagement ring. When he reached the diamond in the center, he looked over at me and asked, “Are you ready for the next stage, Jen?”
I didn’t have to think twice. I just smiled and nodded.
“I sure am.”