Читать книгу The Friendship Pact - Tara Taylor Quinn - Страница 12

Chapter Six

“...aaanndd arm to the back, swing, keep your abdominals tucked in, pull up through your middle. Good and repeat....”

Lori Hildebrand, fitness instructor extraordinaire, snapped her fingers to the beat of the music as she walked through the rows of mats dotting the sprung wood floor of her studio. Bailey swung back, around, forward and down, rolling up through her center right on cue. Snap and back. Snap and around. Snap and forward....

Beside Bailey in their Thursday night class, Koralynn managed to make her movements look more like dance. Where Bailey was tight, Kora was loose.

Fingers snapped. Back. They were both flexible. Snap and around. And could both still tear up a dance floor. But Bailey had lost a lot of the expression in her movements. The heart and soul that used to emanate through her limbs because she couldn’t express them any other way. Snap and roll up.

“Good, three more times,” Lori called out to the twelve or so people spread across the room.

Snap and back. Bailey wanted to be able to express herself again. Or Koralynn was going to leave her far behind on their trek through life. Snap and forward. Oh, not as in desert her, of course. Snap and roll up. The one thing Bailey didn’t worry about was Koralynn deserting her. That would never happen. She was as certain as clouds in the sky.

Snap and back. And then around. In mental and emotional growth, Kora was light-years ahead of her. And if Bailey didn’t catch up soon, they weren’t going to be able to help each other. They weren’t going to be simpatico anymore.

“Good, last rep!”

Music swelled, as though in perfect timing with their exercises and Bailey let go of her thoughts for the moment. A rare experience these days. Losing herself in the music, she did what she was told.

* * *

“Okay, everyone, remember to listen to your parents, be safe, and have a great summer!” I spoke to the wriggling bodies that had taken over my classroom five minutes before the last bell rang on the last Friday afternoon of the 2009/2010 school year.

I pasted on a smile as the final seconds ticked past, my insides scrambling with a combination of their excitement and my own nostalgia. After nine months with the third graders I’d developed a sense of connection with them. I knew them. Their good and their bad.

And after today, they’d be all but gone from my life.

The second hand was almost at the twelve. After seven years of teaching you’d think I’d be better at this part. But letting the kids go seemed harder each year. With tears clogging my throat I called out, “Happy summer, everyone!” just as the bell rang.

“Bye, Mrs. Brown!” several voices chorused at once. And then several more in a confusion of words as the children lined up at my door pushed and shoved their way out of the room to the join the throng of kids walking as fast as they could out in the hall. Voices could be heard outside my window as the first batch of youngsters burst out into freedom—or at least into the waiting presence of mothers and school bus drivers who’d be taking them safely home.

Wrapping my arms around my middle, shivering in the blue pants and matching tailored blouse I’d pulled on that morning—I knew I should’ve brought a sweater because they kept the school so darn cold—I watched the children scatter, saw car doors open and close and—

“Mrs. Brown?”

Startled, I swung around. Mary Ephrain stood there, a little brunette with fine features and petite bones. She was also one of the biggest troublemakers I’d had all year.

“Yes, Mary?”

“I...can I have a hug goodbye?”

The tough little character stood there, all alone and looking so small in a classroom that had suddenly seemed to double in size now that everyone had left it, and I almost couldn’t hold back the tears that had been threatening on and off all afternoon. I reached for the girl and held her tight, hoping she got whatever it was she needed from me.

“You’ll come and see me next year, won’t you?” I asked her.

Mary nodded, her chin quivering. “Can I see you in the summer, too?” she asked.

“Well, I’d love that, but we won’t be here in the summer.”

The child nodded. And turned and ran out before I could ask her if something was wrong.

I made a mental note to myself to follow up with Mary’s mother, whom I’d met several times over the past year—not in particularly pleasant circumstances. There was only so much I could do, but making sure that the single-mother household was doing okay wouldn’t be too out of line.

At least not in my book.

“She’s a cutie.” The voice brought me out of my funk and I smiled for real as I watched Bailey walk up to my desk from the back of the room. Dressed as usual in a power suit, hose and heels, she looked impressive.

Accomplished.

I could hardly believe this was my Bailey. The best friend who used to fart in my bed and then laugh uproariously.

“She’s a handful,” I said, putting the last of my things in my duffel and slinging that, along with my bohemian-style tie-dyed purse, over my shoulder. Mary kind of reminded me of a younger Bailey.

I made another mental note to check up on the child once or twice over the summer, then did what I was supposed to do and tried to put the children behind me as I joined Bailey for our end-of-the-school-year girls’ night out.

Danny was in New York on business, something about marketing campaign money that needed to be allocated to a new supplier, and Bailey would be spending the night at my place. I couldn’t believe how much I was looking forward to the hours ahead. In spite of how much I missed my husband.

* * *

Bailey poured two glasses of wine and, turning out the kitchen light behind her, made her way to the guest bedroom in the three-bedroom bungalow Koralynn shared with Danny. They were in a suburb of Pittsburgh, a neighborhood of older but well-kept homes on large wooded lots.

At Koralynn’s urging, Bailey had actually just looked at a place in the same neighborhood, a little smaller, but with a pool in the backyard, and if all worked out well, she might make an offer on it.

In black flannel pants and a T-shirt emblazoned with pastel-colored hearts surrounding the word Believe, Kora was just coming out of the bathroom as Bailey approached.

“I didn’t brush my teeth,” Kora said. “Ruins the taste of wine. Even cheap wine.” Kora and Danny were doing fine financially, but they were determined to make it on their own without help from their folks. His dad was out of state anyway, and his mother’s new marriage wasn’t going well. And while Danny had already proven to be a gifted financial analyst—no surprise there—he was still in a junior position at the firm. And Kora’s public school salary wasn’t going to make them rich.

Bailey followed Kora into the guest bedroom and handed over one of the two glasses, holding hers up. “To you,” she said.

“To you,” Kora returned with a grin, clinked her glass with Bailey’s and took a sip. They’d had a couple of drinks at the club where they’d gone to dance for a bit after dinner, but the decibel levels had been too loud to allow for conversation.

And dancing wasn’t as much fun as it used to be either. Not when you’d worked all day and were tired and needed to have a private conversation with your best friend.

Glass in hand, Koralynn climbed onto one side of the duvet-covered bed—the side she’d slept on growing up—and sat cross-legged. “Okay, out with it.”

Bailey’s stomach started to churn. Like it always did when she was bothered or nervous.

“This isn’t cheap wine,” she said, her back to Kora as she paced the room for a second or two. She wasn’t surprised that Kora knew she needed to talk. She needed Kora’s buy-in. And was desperately afraid she wasn’t going to get it.

“You should know—you brought it.” Kora’s tone reminded Bailey of the way she’d heard her friend speak to her students backstage at the Christmas play the previous year. A combination of authority and affection.

It was a good thing Kor had third graders. Any older, and her kids would know she was a big pushover.

Bailey turned, looking at the glass of wine she held. “Oh, yeah.” She’d recognized the bottle when she’d seen it on the top shelf of the refrigerator.

“Mmm-hmm.” Kora’s eyes shone with a compassion that Bailey was addicted to. She could handle life. Could stand up to an abusive stepfather, a corrupt judge. And any asshole who tried to take her clients to the cleaners. But she could not live without that look of Kora’s.

Kora knew she was just stalling for time.

“You brought it last month when you came to dinner,” she said rather than calling Bailey on her rather stupid evasions.

She remembered bringing the wine. Because she’d wanted Danny’s approval. Or something. She’d wanted him to consider her worthy enough to have earned her place at the table. In the three months since she’d broken up with Jake, Danny had found many excuses to be absent whenever Bailey was around.

Like the business trip to New York that had suddenly come up after Kora had told him about Bailey’s invitation to go out and celebrate that night.

“Danny had already opened a bottle that night,” Bailey said now.

“One my folks sent home with us.” Kora nodded, sounding relaxed, as though they could talk about wine for the rest of the night. But her focused expression told Bailey she was waiting for more than wine conversation.

Or maybe Bailey was just reading her thoughts. Had Kora known that Danny opened the wine from her folks after he’d put Bailey’s bottle down in the cellar? Bailey had heard the cork pop.

But didn’t want to say anything negative about Danny. She didn’t even want to think anything negative about him.

He really was a great guy. Bailey just couldn’t seem to live up to his expectations of her. Hell, he’d rather lie than drink her wine. He’d hurt her feelings. And if Kora knew, it would cause problems between them. Which was why she hadn’t said anything about it then, or later. Kora and Danny were the perfect couple. Bailey needed them to be happy.

“You going to stand there all night or are we going to talk?” Kora’s glass of wine was half empty.

Bailey decided she should have brought the bottle in.

Setting her glass on the nightstand, Bailey settled onto her side of the bed, resting back against the headboard.

She took a deep breath. And another.

“What is it, Bail?” Kora leaned over, her knee pressing into Bailey’s, and grabbed her hand. “You’re scaring me.”

The change in her tone of voice increased Bailey’s own fears. She couldn’t lose Kora. And she couldn’t not move forward with her life, either.

“What?” Kora asked, giving Bailey’s fingers a hard squeeze. Turning over her hand, Bailey squeezed back.

“I...need your support on something,” she said, choosing her words more carefully than she usually did when speaking with her closest friend.

“Okay...Of course, if it’s important to you, you’ve got it.” The wide-eyed worry shining from Kora’s face was reassuring.

Maybe it really was that simple. Yeah, she was probably making a bigger deal out of this than it needed to be...

“I don’t think you’re going to like it,” she said now. Actually, she was certain Kora wasn’t going to like it. Kora jerked, and the wine in her other hand spilled. She didn’t even seem to notice. “You’re not moving away are you?”

“No.” Pulling a tissue from the box on the nightstand, Bailey dabbed at a wet spot on her friend’s thigh. “Of course not. I couldn’t leave you. You know that.”

“Okay,” Kora grinned. “Good.” She sipped her wine. “So, what’s up?”

“I want to have a baby.” Kora and Danny had been trying for almost a year and every month, when Kora was hoping not to have a period, and Bailey had lain awake at night praying for her friend’s fertility, she’d found herself feeling an emptiness of her own....

“A baby?” Kora frowned, shook her head. “You’re pregnant?”

“Not yet.” She sat forward, grabbing Kora’s hand in both of hers. She couldn’t do this without Kora. And she had to do it. “I realize this sounds sudden, but it’s not, Kor. I just...I know this is the right thing. Just like I knew law school was. You know how I am. I don’t care about a lot of things, but when I do, when I’m certain something’s right, it is.”

Kora, who was still staring at her, nodded. “But...a baby?”

Bailey nodded back. There were so many things she could say, about her heart, her life, her upbringing and her emptiness, but Kora already knew all that.

“You’re talking like after you get married, right?” Kora asked, but Bailey knew that her friend wasn’t really asking. She knew better. But was hoping, anyway.

Bailey shook her head.

“I thought you hadn’t spoken to Jake since March.”

Stomach churning again, Bailey said, “I haven’t.”

Hurt filled Kora’s eyes and then was gone. “I didn’t know you’d met anyone else.” There wasn’t any accusation in Kora’s tone, but...

“I haven’t!” Bailey quickly confirmed.

“Then you’re talking about sometime in the future...”

“No.” Bailey shook her head again, felt the effects of the alcohol she’d consumed, and reached for her wine glass, taking another sip. “I found a clinic that does artificial insemination,” she said in a rush. “I went there today, Kor, and this place is great. The people are great. The woman I met with was so supportive. She totally understood me, where I was coming from. She said I’ll need to consider everything carefully, including the fact that I’ll be bringing a child into the world, possibly a son, who wouldn’t have a father figure in his life, but I figured with you and Danny and Papa Bill...”

“You went to a fertility clinic?” Kora’s gaze wasn’t horrified, but it wasn’t pleased.

“Yeah. I have another appointment for next week and I want you to go with me, Kora. I told them you’d be there as my next of kin. They know about you and Danny and your folks and...”

“No, Bail...” There were tears in Kora’s eyes as she shook her head. Bailey hadn’t expected tears. “You can’t do this. Please don’t do this...” Kora kept shaking her head. You’re going to ruin your chances at the family and home you’ve always wanted. It’s like saying you don’t want to be my friend, and breaking up with Jake because you fell in love with him. You want a family, but this... You’ll be alone as a parent and—”

“I can’t do it without you.”

“I know. But I can’t... If you’d been in love and your husband died, or he was an invalid or even if you were gay, then fine, I’d get it and I’d be with you all the way. But this...” Leaning back, Kora put her wine glass down, then scooted closer to Bailey, leaning back against the headboard to pull Bailey over, holding her, Bailey’s head on her shoulder, as they’d done so many times in the past.

“You’re just scared because of Jake,” she said, her voice soothing. And Bailey wanted to sink into the comfort and go to sleep. To rest peacefully, as she’d done so many times at Kora’s house, with her friend close by to chase away the ugliness that always seemed to be on Bailey’s heels. Or to call in Kora’s parents when it was too big for the two of them to handle alone.

“You’re panicking and jumping into something....”

Was she? Kora knew her better than anyone. So maybe she had a point. But... “Just come with me,” she said. “If you still think I’m nuts, then I’ll listen to you, but just come with me to the appointment. Hear what they have to say....”

“Of course I’ll come, sweetie. I won’t let you down. I’ve always been there for you and always will. No matter what. And remember, Bail, I’m just keeping my word to you. I promised I’d always tell you what I see—just like I expect you to do for me. You know your insecurities can blind you, the same way my Pollyanna attitude sometimes prevents me from seeing clearly.” Kora paused. “Remember how scared you were when it was time to apply to law schools? You weren’t going to and—”

“My mother was divorcing a judge who was set on destroying her....”

“You were afraid you wouldn’t get in. And afraid that if you did, you’d fail....”

True.

“But I could see that. I knew how badly you really wanted to go. I knew what you really wanted and nagged you to fill out those forms.”

True again. “We filled out the forms together,” Bailey reminded her.

“Jake’s not dating anyone....”

Bailey’s heart leapt. She’d come so close to letting that man talk her into something she knew she’d regret.

She’d almost let him talk her into running away and getting married.

For a whole weekend, she’d considered the idea. Had let herself imagine what it would be like to be married to Jake and have it work out the way it had for Kora and Danny.

But then that Sunday night, facing work the next day, she’d complained about a partner at work and Jake had told her she could quit her job if she wanted to. He’d promised to support her if she wanted to open her own firm. And she’d heard the judge again, so clearly it hurt, as her mind replayed a conversation she’d overheard between him and her mom the night before they got married. He’d told her mom basically the same thing. Only for Mom it had been about going to law school. But when it came right down to it, he’d so lovingly and persuasively suggested that her mother didn’t need to waste time going back to school. He was perfectly capable of supporting them and she might not like the course as much as she expected or be as good at it as she wanted to be and...slowly, day by day, the relationship made in heaven had fallen apart.

Kora and Danny might make it forever. But if they did, they were the exception. Just like Papa Bill and Mama Di had been for their generation. In her experience, most couples who stayed together didn’t do it out of happiness or love. They did it because it was easier. Or for financial security. And their homes were filled with boredom. Or silence. So were their lives.

Unless they were unfaithful to each other and found a different life, a new life, outside the home.

She didn’t want it. Couldn’t take that chance. “Jake was asking about you.” Kora’s voice fell into the silence. “I’m sure I could...”

“No, Kor.” She was absolutely positive. She wasn’t going to make that mistake. No matter how much Kora wanted her to have her happily ever after.

She wasn’t an easy person. She got snippy. And had a tendency to be standoffish. She wasn’t good at trusting and no relationship survived without it....

“Okay.” Kora’s fingers running gently through her hair felt good. Safe. “You don’t want Jake, that’s fine. I totally respect that....”

And because she knew that Kora honestly and sincerely wanted what was best for her, as she did for Kora, because she knew, deep down, that they’d really truly die for each other, Bailey said, “It’s not that I don’t care for him, it’s just that...”

“...you’re afraid to get married.”

Okay, maybe she was. Or maybe she really wasn’t the marrying kind. Either way, the end result was the same. She was sure she didn’t want to get married.

And none of that changed what was most important to her now.

Bailey wanted to be a mother. A good mother. A child would complete her in a way nothing else—including marriage—ever would. And she honestly and soulfully believed that she could give a child a world full of love while bringing him or her up to be an asset to society.

She believed that.

Somehow she had to get Kora to believe it, too.