Chapter 18
“Look at you,” Rory cooed at Connor. “Those big eyes! You are going to make the girls cry .”
“Or boys!” said Elizabeth, with a quick glance at Emily, then an even quicker glance at Jack. “Or whatever!”
“Can I steal him? Just for one photo shoot?” Rory had become a talent agent for models.
She had a surprisingly big roster of clients for an agent fresh out of college, but her parents had connections.
“You have got to have a vision,” she had told Emily when the twins first moved to New York.
“Mine is apartments in Paris and London. Oh, and a spot in the Caribbean—nothing extravagant, so long as there’s an infinity pool.
” Elizabeth, who had a degree in mathematics, had been hired by Goldman Sachs right after graduation but hated it and quit.
She was living off her trust fund and taking ceramics classes.
She had presented Emily with a hollow clay sculpture of Connor’s head that was so fragile that she hadn’t fired it, out of worry that it would shatter in the kiln.
The likeness was very good, down to the thin strokes of the eyebrows.
After the twins left, Jack said, “Who gives someone a copy of their baby’s head? It’s like a voodoo doll.”
It was a little creepy, but beautiful, too. Emily knew better than to say this.
“How about you see them on your own time,” Jack said.
“I thought you liked them.”
“If I said half the things Rory said, you’d never forgive me.”
Of her friends, Elizabeth and Rory Ryall had the most in common with Jack, and Emily said so.
“Because we come from money? Not fair, Em.”
She supposed he had a point.
“They look down on me,” Jack said.
“That’s not true.”
“I’m not saying you can’t see them, just that I don’t want to.”
This was reasonable. There was no rule that a husband had to be friends with his wife’s friends.
Although the twins were Emily’s closest friends in New York, along with Violet, who had been accepted into Juilliard’s master’s program, Emily began to see less of them.
At first, she would ask the nanny to stay later and met the twins for a cocktail, but Jack complained that Connor was fussy whenever she went out.
It became easier to stay home. Then Elizabeth decided to break up with her boyfriend and travel the world.
“I’m sick of living in Rory’s shadow,” she said.
Rory’s career accelerated; her free time dwindled.
Most of Rory and Emily’s communication happened over texts.
dude why doesn’t Jack like me?
he does!
omg you liar. last time we all hung out he looked like he was getting an enema
are we still on for Fri?
yes if u dont cancel again
Emily strapped Connor into the baby carrier and went to the store for diapers and some formula, which she planned to stash behind the detergent in the laundry room cupboards.
She wasn’t producing enough milk. After thirty minutes at her breast, Connor would wail, but she had found that if she gave him a little formula after nursing, he would suck blissfully at the bottle until his mouth slipped from the silicone nipple and his eyes closed in heavy sleep.
Jack had resisted the idea of formula, but this was only a little, a top off, so Emily thought it best to keep this practice to herself.
She stroked Connor’s downy head. He chirruped and curled his fingers in and out of her shirt as she walked back home.
When she returned, she would nurse him, take a shower, and get ready to meet Rory.
She decided that she would wear her favorite red dress.
But when she entered the apartment, singing to Connor, who bounced excitedly in his carrier, Jack called from another room, “Is that you, Em? Come see!”
She followed his voice to find that he had laid the table with an elaborate dinner.
A bottle of champagne sat at a jaunty angle in ice.
Jack kissed her. “I thought I’d knock off work early and cook a few things.
It’s been a while since we’ve had a date night.
I sent the nanny home.” Emily set down her shopping bags.
She felt light-headed: trapped, then guilty for feeling trapped…
and anxious, because she was about to disappoint him.
“I’ll put Connor down in his crib,” he said. “You relax, have a glass of champagne. I’ll be back in a sec.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t what?” he said distractedly, reaching for Connor.
“I can’t have dinner. I’m meeting Rory in an hour.”
He froze, then his hands swung down to his sides. “Are you serious?”
“I told you I was going to have a drink with her.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did.”
“It’s not in our shared calendar.”
Connor struggled in the carrier, impatient to get out. “This is a misunderstanding,” Emily said. “I did tell you, but I should have put it in the calendar and I’m sorry. How about we have a quick dinner? I’ll nurse Connor while we eat, and if I skip a shower, I should be able to meet Rory in time.”
“Wow, Em. Way to make me feel second-best.”
“You’re not, it’s just that I’ve canceled on Rory a lot, because you asked me to. I don’t want to do that again.”
“This is my fault?”
“There’s always some reason you don’t want me to see her. You’ve said you wanted to watch a movie together. Or that the apartment was lonely without me. That Connor misses me too much.”
“I can’t believe you’re complaining that I want some family time.”
“But it always gets in the way of me seeing my friend.”
“Fine.” Jack fumbled with the baby carrier straps and took Connor, who squawked. “Go ahead.” He shifted Connor to one arm and reached for the shopping bags, then paused. He lifted out a canister of formula. “What’s this?”
Panic swarmed inside her. She was ready to say that she had bought formula in case of an emergency, but the intensity of her panic stopped her. Panic wasn’t normal. For this? Lots of parents bottle-fed. “Sometimes I give Connor formula. A little, after nursing.”
His hand tightened around the canister. “How long has this been going on?”
“About a month.”
He slung the canister at the table, shattering the champagne glasses. Emily flinched. Connor began to cry. “What the fuck, Emily.”
“Give me the baby.”
“You’ve been lying to me?”
“Please, you’re upset. Give me the baby.”
“You think I’m going to hurt my son? You don’t trust me ? I’m not the one keeping secrets.”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t like it.”
“If you knew, don’t you think that maybe you shouldn’t have done it? He’s my child, too.” He advanced on her. She backed away. He closed the space between them.
“You’re right,” she said abruptly. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. If you give Connor to me, I’ll nurse him right now.”
Jack glanced down at the screaming baby in his arms, then took in the wreck of the dining table. He seemed stunned. He passed the baby to Emily. Quietly, he said, “I scared you.”
“Of course not,” she lied.
“The idea of you keeping secrets…baby formula is a small thing, but it made me think, What else don’t I know? What if I lost you? I can’t lose you. You’re everything to me.”
Connor cried despairingly. His face bobbed against her chest.
Jack said, “I get it if you want to see Rory, but please stay? Can we talk about this? I want to talk about this. Let me make things up to you.”
She felt dizzy. It was hard to think. Bits of glass glinted up at her from the floor. Connor was hot and squalling.
“I fucked up,” Jack said. “I know that. But I can be better. Will you give me a chance? Please.”
Emily pulled up her shirt to nurse Connor. Jack gazed at her, shaken and desperate. He was so sorry. He had lost his temper, but didn’t everyone sometimes? Doesn’t everyone fuck up? How could she not give him a second chance when they loved each other?
I can’t make it
***
Rain check?
uhh i’m already at the bar
Yikes. Sorry!! Kind of had a crisis at home
Three dots appeared on Emily’s phone, then disappeared, then reappeared.
what sort of crisis? Rory said.
Emily tried to explain, editing the story so that it sounded like a common spat. She didn’t want Rory to think badly of Jack.
has it occurred to u that u married a manchild
he just wanted to be part of the decision about formula
um it’s YOUR boobs
Can we try for the same time next week?
A moment went by before Rory wrote again. i’ll be in LA
When are you free?
i actually canceled plans with a client tonight so I could see u
Emily had a sinking feeling. She guessed what Rory would say, so when the words appeared on her screen, it was as though Emily had written them herself.
i’m not saying this to make u feel bad, Rory texted.
it’s so u understand. let’s meet when I’m back in NYC.
yr my friend and i love u but it sucks to get stood up all the time and tbh my calendar is packed. we can catch up on the phone later, ok?
Emily was in the bathroom. She had wanted a place where she could be alone for a few minutes.
She sat on the floor near the oblong marble tub.
She tried to think of how she could make this problem right.
She wrote words and erased them. She set the phone down on the tiles.
What apology, without the full truth, would Rory accept?
What would be wrong, said a voice in her mind, with telling her the truth? The voice was Gen’s.
Emily was twenty-two years old. Four years had passed since she and Gen had broken up, and they’d barely communicated since. It was pointless to imagine what Gen would say. Gen was gone. They had different lives. They would probably never see each other again.
Emily lifted her phone from the bathroom floor and told Rory that she understood.