The warm homey smell of Gran’s apartment makes me want to stay and sleep in Juliet’s cramped bed again.
Juliet gives her a smile. “We had fun, Gran. He took me to see Central Park to meet his friends. The window displays at Bergdorf Goodman were beautiful, and so was Rockefeller Center.” She yawns and her body droops.
“My, you kept her busy,” Gran says and I sense some innuendo in it. “I’ve got a pot roast on if you’re hungry and a Beyond roast for you, sweetie.” Gran offers a meal and a vegan version and again, I feel the love.
Juliet looks like she might fall over, so I accept, because ... well, I don’t know why. Perhaps I want to be a part of this family.
I help Juliet upstairs as Gran finishes dinner and assist in dressing her in cozy attire: a big floppy sweatshirt and equallyfloppy sweat pants, not even a matching set, and I love her more.
“I’m so tired,” she tells me in a whisper.
“You just have to muscle through dinner and I’ll put you to bed,” I say as I brush her hair with a hairbrush on the night stand.
“You don’t have to do this,” she tells me, perhaps feeling a little uncomfortable with all of my attention.
“I think I’m in a little bit of shock,” I confess. “I’ll probably be an asshole on Monday, so you better get all you can out of me now.”
She laughs, and I love that she’s still laughing, despite everything.
“Is there any chance it was wrong?” she asks, dressed and ready to face Gran downstairs.
“The digital ones are pretty accurate. We can take another test but, Juliet, you’re pregnant. You know and I do. No test in the world is going to tell you otherwise.”
She looks about to cry again.
“Don’t,” I stop her. “I’m not leaving you alone. Okay? I’m not.”
Gran’s dining room glows warm and golden, the storm-scrubbed world outside the windows fading to indigo. Juliet and her grandmother chatter easily, the kind of familiar back-and-forth I’ve never had with anyone.
Gran lifts her wine glass, cheeks pink from a few glasses, laughter, and a warm kitchen. “The silent disco was a smash, Marcel. You should’ve grabbed some earphones, we were doing the Twist.” Gran is definitely getting a little tipsy; that lady loves to live.
“Next time I’ll put on headphones and Twist with you, I promise.” I say, falling right into the old lady’s trap.
“Well, you can’t, ‘cause some money mugger is going to tear down the Community Center.” She glares at me and well, I deserve it.
“Ah, you got me.”
Juliet laughs sweetly. “You never had a chance,” she says, looking pale and fatigued.
I remind myself to order her vitamins and make an appointment with the doctor as soon as possible.
“I’m going to hire you to negotiate my contracts, Gran, I tell ya. You’re as hard assed as they come.” I raise my glass to her.
She puffs up, proud. “Damn straight I am.”
Juliet’s eyes sparkle from across the table and, for a dangerous heartbeat, I forget everything, the investors, the plans, and the thousand calculations crowding my mind.
Gran sets another helping of roast on my plate. “And how was New York, really? Cold, crowded, soggy?”
Juliet tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Busy. Beautiful. The carriage ride was magical. We should go together. I have a little saved up. You deserve a vacation.”
“Well, we are busy ‘til New Year’s. Maybe next year, sweetie.”
Next year, when they are schlepping around a newborn.
Wow a wave of nausea hits me. I almost blurt it out right then and there. ‘You should go on vacation this year, Juliet’s pregnant and we don’t know what we’re doing. Besides, I’m shutting everything down and killing the community.’
Suddenly the room is too hot, the smiles too big. I’m suffocating and Juliet notices.
