But instead, he hugged her tightly and whispered, “We’re going to have a baby.”
This crushed Bethany’s heart. “Yes,” she whispered. “We’re going to have a baby.”
When their hug broke, Rod’s smile was unbreakable. “We have to celebrate!” he cried. He led her to a nearby little restaurant, where they ordered nonalcoholic champagne and toasted. Bethany couldn’t believe how relieved she was that Rod carried her secret, now, too. Eagerly, Rod asked her to share all the details: how she’d found out, what the doctor said, and why she’d kept the news to herself so far.
“Truthfully? I was terrified. I’m still terrified,” Bethany said, scrunching her face. “I’m old. Older than I ever imagined I would be, if I ever did this again. I was looking forward to our future together, you and me, childfree and traveling around the world. I didn’t imagine it would be like this.”
Rod cupped her hand in his. Their nonalcoholic champagne sparkled and bubbled in their beautiful flute glasses.
“It would have been nice. Fun, even,” Rod said of that future. “But we’re going to have a blast, raising a baby together. We’re going to love that baby with everything we are.”
Bethany wanted to keep this moment close to her heart forever. She imagined, years from now, telling their daughter or son about the moment she and Rod had sat here, dreaming about their future. She imagined telling their child: “We loved each other so much that we needed to have a baby, if only to spread our love around.”
“I don’t know how to tell the kids,” Bethany said suddenly, destroying the beautiful bubble around them.
Rod took her worry seriously, which frightened her. “You know how kids are. They don’t like change. I guess nobody does,” he said.
“They’re going to be out of the house sooner rather than later,” Bethany said. “I don’t want them to think they have to help, or that they’ll be free babysitters or anything. They’ve earned their teenage years. And I’ve put them through enough.”
Rod laughed. “You’ve loved them hard. You’ve done everything you can for them.”
“I moved them around. I divorced their father,” Bethany said.
Rod shook his head. “You’ve loved them. You’ve done everything to make them happier and healthier. It’s what you’ll do for our baby, too. I can’t wait to see it all happen. It’s going to be beautiful.”
Later, when the Broadway show was finished, Rod and Bethany met the kids outside. Phoebe looked euphoric. She had already sung all the songs. Maddie and Tommy were pretending that they’d thought the show was boring, although obviously they hadn’t.
The topic of why Bethany and Rod had left the show early came and went.
“I told you, I wasn’t feeling well,” Bethany said, shrugging as they headed for the hotel for the night. “Rod left the show to keep my company.”
“You shouldn’t have,” Phoebe said to Rod seriously. “You missed something spectacular.”
“You’ll have to perform it for me later,” Rod said.
Phoebe raised her eyebrows. “I’ll do what I can.” Never had anyone taken on anything more solemnly.
“Uh-oh,” Maddie said, glancing at Tommy. “Looks like we’ll be hearing those songs for the rest of the week.”
“Watch out, Manhattan. Phoebe’s here, and she’s ready for her close-up,” Tommy said.
Phoebe threw her head back dramatically, and everyone laughed.
Bethany allowed herself the joy of this moment. She loved the sounds of traffic and her children’s laughter. She loved Rod’s assurances. But all the while, nerves shimmered in her gut.
She prayed it would turn out all right.
5
Orangeburg, South Carolina
It was after her separation, around the time that Helena moved back in with her parents, that her mother took a turn for the worse. The cancer was always coming back, always going into remission. But this time, it seemed that her mother might not make it.
Of course, her mother wasn’t one to make a fuss about herself. With Helena reeling in the midst of a divorce she’d never imagined possible, wondering what had gone wrong and why she was still so tired, her mother used her remaining strength to make chicken soup, put on DVDs, and try to nurse Helena’s heart back to health. It still hadn’t occurred to Helena to go to the doctor herself. She assumed she was tired because of a broken heart or because she was getting older. Whatever, she told herself. She didn’t care much about her body.
When the doctor told them that her mother had maybe six months to live, Helena’s mother hardly reacted. She folded her hands in her lap as Helena scribbled notes to herself about late-in-life care and how to keep her mother at home for as long aspossible. Back at her parents’ place, she helped her mother get comfortable on the couch in front of the television, then went to the bathroom to cry by herself before dragging up the energy to order pizza online.
“It isn’t so bad,” her mother said that night, a pizza slice shining greasily on her plate. “Honestly, I think it’s going to be fine.”