Chapter 23
“What are you doing?”
Louise spins around, clutching the mascara tube as if I just caught her doing drugs.
“Are you putting on makeup?” I ask.
“Just a little bit,” she says, defensive as she turns back to the mirror. “I wear makeup.”
“No, you don’t.” I take in her white blouse, the gold pendant at her neck. “You’re not getting dressed up for Mam and Dad, are you?”
She doesn’t answer. With the doctor confirming she’s a little over eight weeks, she’s decided to tell our parents about the pregnancy.
It’s still early but she said she doesn’t want to wait any longer, reasoning that if they were in Clonard, they’d know.
But judging by how she’s acting right now, you might think she’s about to tell them she burned the house down.
“I don’t know why you’re so nervous,” I say. “They’re going to be thrilled. And you want to tell them.”
“I do. But you know what they’re like,” she says as I perch on the end of her bed. “They’re going to want to come back.”
“For the birth of the first grandchild? Yeah, I’d hope so.”
“Not for the birth. Obviously, I want them there for that. I mean they’ll want to come back now . As in tomorrow.”
I start to laugh when I realize she’s right. “Oh my God, they will.”
“A few weeks when the baby’s born would be great. I’m going to ask Mam to do just that but…”
“She’ll want to be here full-time,” I finish. “Immediately.”
“Exactly,” she says, applying a thick coat of mascara. “And I want to nip that idea in the bud so there’s no miscommunication. Therefore I need to look like I have everything under control, which means I need to look in control.”
“She says, poking herself in the eye.”
Louise glares at me as she wipes a smudge away.
“When are you going to tell Tomasz’s folks?”
“Not for a while. We might go over and tell them in person.” She makes a face at her reflection. “Why are my lashes clumping?”
“Because your makeup is cheap. Why don’t you use mine?”
“That’s so unhygienic.”
“We share a toilet.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not putting the toilet in my eye.”
“You’re not supposed to put the mascara in your eye either, you idiot.”
She lets out a quiet screech and dumps the wand back on the dressing table.
“Oh yeah,” I say, as it bounces to the floor. “You’re totally in control.”
“I don’t like attention.”
“You love attention. You had a megaphone in your hand when you were twelve years old. They wanted you to run for county councilor when you were eighteen! You’ve never been scared of telling anyone anything.”
“But that was never about me . It was about everything else. This is completely different.”
Tomasz walks into the room, looking very uncomfortable in a blue button-down shirt Mam got him for Christmas last year. “I look like I work at a golf club,” he complains.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Louise says. “Everyone downstairs. Let’s go.”
Tomasz takes me in with a frown as I brush past him. “Why doesn’t Abby have to dress up?”
“Because I’m going for a run,” I say.
“You’re escaping,” he mutters.
In the living room, they sit on the old love seat while Louise opens the laptop, still looking a little peaky even with the makeup.
Tomasz notices it too. “Your face is melting,” he says affectionately, brushing the hair from her shoulder. I sit at the bottom of the stairs, lacing up my shoes.
“It’s because I’m sweating,” Louise says. “It’s too hot.”
“It’s mild at best,” I scoff.
“We should wait another few weeks before telling them. Just to be sure.”
“Okay,” Tomasz says.
“But they deserve to know.”
He shrugs. “Whatever you want to do.”
It’s not what she wants to hear.
“Don’t look at me,” I say when she turns her indecisive gaze my way. “I’m not the one who let my husband knock me up.”
“Why don’t you stay for the start?” she asks me. “You can distract them.”
“From what? Your clumpy eyelashes?”
“Abby!”
“I don’t like you like this,” I say, getting to my feet. “Pregnant you is weird.”
“I don’t think your eyelashes look clumpy,” Tomasz tells her as a ring tone blares from the laptop.
Louise just looks at it.
“They’re going to be happy,” I remind her.
“I know!” she says. “I know. It’s just… it’s my first time telling someone.”
I frown. “You told me.”
“I was in shock.”
“You told Tomasz.”
“That doesn’t count. He helped make it.”
“I did.” He nods.
I try to keep my voice gentle. “You don’t need to tell anyone else for a few weeks but you want to tell Mam and Dad, remember? This means you win.”
“What?”
“The first grandchild,” I say solemnly. “That’s a big deal. That’s like a hundred sibling points.”
She blinks at me as the ringing continues. “It beats buying them a house in Portugal?”
“It does. The emotional value is like…” I raise a hand to my head. “I can’t compete with that. This is your moment.”
She looks suddenly thoughtful but Tomasz has had enough.
“You two are strange,” he mutters, and leans forward to tap the keyboard, accepting the call.
“Hello,” he calls, cheerfully waving at the laptop.
“Tomasz!” Mam’s voice sounds through the speakers. “You look very sharp.”
“Thank you.”
“Louise, you look flushed.”
“It’s warm today,” she says.
“The weather report says it’s mild.”
“Why are you looking at the weather report for here?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
I hide my smirk, giving the two of them a small wave as I head to the door.
“Abby’s here too,” Louise says loudly.
Mother of… why I mouth as she makes a rapid come here motion with her hands. Tomasz just smiles, scooting to the side as Louise pulls me down between them.
“Hello,” I say at the screen. My parents sit in the same spot they always do. It’s a cloudy day in the Algarve. Mam’s wearing a blue blouse and my dad is in a polo shirt. They look as bewildered as I am.
“Out for a run, Abby?” Mam asks after a moment.
I glance at Louise but she’s not looking at me. “Just about to.”
“Have you heard back about the interview yet?”
I shake my head. “I’ll tell you when I do. Though I think I might—”
“I’m pregnant,” Louise blurts out.
Okay then.
“Good job,” I whisper, wincing as she pinches my thigh.
“I’m pregnant,” she repeats. “I’m… we’re pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”
Tomasz holds up his hands in a ta-da motion.
Mam’s hands move from her lap to her chest and back again. “A baby?”
“We just found out,” Louise says. “I’m only at eight weeks but the doctor confirmed it.”
Dad, who hasn’t moved a muscle in the last few seconds, finally stirs. “Which doctor?”
“Dr. Gavin.”
“Is he that new one?”
“It’s a she and yes.”
“You should go to Dr. Mehtar,” Dad says. “He’s very good.”
“He is,” Mam says, nodding. “He helped with your father’s hip.”
“He’s also retired,” Louise points out.
“I’ll give him a call.”
“ No. We’re with Dr. Gavin and she’s already arranging all the necessary checks and appointments.”
“Sure, Dr. Mehtar could do that,” Dad huffs.
“It’s all very exciting,” I say pointedly. “Your first grandchild!”
Tomasz does the thing with his hands again.
Dad blinks very hard as Mam stands suddenly, disappearing off-screen “You’re feeling okay?” he asks.
“I feel fine,” Louise says.
“No morning sickness?”
“Not yet.”
“Your mother had awful morning sickness.”
Louise’s smile falters. “Great.”
“When’s the best time to come?” Mam calls. “End of the month?”
Louise’s eyes shoot to me as our mother sits back on the couch, flipping through her small red diary.
“Don’t be silly, Mam,” I say, my voice bright. “You don’t need to come all the way back here. It’s too far.”
“It’s a two-hour flight.”
“It will be a little cramped, don’t you think?” I continue. “With me here? Plus it’s not like—”
“You’ll need all the help you can get.”
“I’d love to have you over when the baby comes,” Louise says quickly. “ We would,” she adds, and Tomasz nods. “But there’s nothing to do now.”
“But what if something goes wr—”
“Mam,” I interrupt sharply, and she immediately goes quiet.
Louise is very still beside me. “Dr. Gavin said everything is completely normal so far,” she says.
“Of course, it is,” Mam says quickly. “I’m sure she has everything under control.”
“She’s a good doctor,” Tomasz says. “I know her from the hospital.”
“So there’s no need for you to come just yet,” I continue. “Once there’s a due date…”
“I’d love for you to be here, Mam,” Louise says earnestly. “For as long as you can be.”
“Of course, I will, my darling. Of course.” She leans forward, peering into the camera. “Everything will be fine,” she says gently, and Louise nods, wilting a little in relief as I look to our other parent.
“Dad?”
My father has been staring off-camera with his arms crossed for the last few minutes. “I’m fine,” he says gruffly.
“It’s not the 1950s,” I remind him. “You’re allowed to cry. Especially if you’re happy.”
But he only waves a dismissive hand, still refusing to look at us.
“I’m very proud of you both,” he says. “You’ll make wonderful parents.”
Louise smiles. “And you’ll make a wonderful grandfather.”
“Too much,” I mutter as he stands, mumbling something about making tea.
“He’ll call you later,” Mam says as he wanders off. “You know how your father gets when he…”
“Has feelings?” I finish.
“Just wait. He’ll be all excited now. Spending all our money.
When I was pregnant with you, it was the only thing that made him feel useful.
He’d come back every day with toys and books and anything that caught his eye.
He brought that dollhouse of yours back from the pub one evening,” she adds to Louise.
“The pink one?”
“Do not ask how much it cost. I almost had a heart attack when he told me.”
“We still have it,” Louise says, perking up. “I saw it in the attic last month.”
“Well, now you can give it to your child,” she says. “It would make his year.”
“Hang on,” I say. “What do you mean he bought presents? I never got a present.”
“Because he spent all our money on Louise,” Mam says crisply. “You got to play with them when she was done. Now, tell me,” she continues as my mouth drops open. “What exactly did Dr. Gavin say?”
Louise finally releases me from the couch to talk to Mam, looking significantly more relaxed than before.
I thought I would be relieved to escape and get some fresh air but I’m oddly reluctant as I leave, my mind back in the front room, with my family.
It hits me then that if everything goes as I want it to, my parents will come home, Louise will have her baby, and I…
won’t be here. Who knows where I’ll be. Who knows, if I go, when I’ll be able to get back.
I’ll be one of those people who watches their nieces and nephews grow up on camera.
And while I don’t know exactly how I feel about that, I know it’s not good.