The Nine Month Plan

  “You said he,” Joe tells Dr. Sanjna.

  “Did I? I didn’t mean to. I tend to use the male pronoun.”

  “But isn’t that . . .” Nina reaches toward the screen and points.

  “Oh, that? It’s the umbilical cord,” the doctor says with a smile.

  “Oh. I thought it was a boy . . . and a well-­endowed one, at that,” Nina says with a smile.

  “Can you see whether it’s a boy or girl?” Joe asks the doctor.

  “I thought you didn’t want to know.”

  “We don’t,” Nina says firmly.

  “We really don’t?” Joe sighs. “I guess we don’t.”

  “All right, then. I’m going to take some measurements just to make sure this little one is growing at the right rate. When I’m done, I’ll give you a picture of the baby to bring home and show your family.”

  Family.

  Not families.

  Again, the assumption that Nina and Joe are together that way. That their lives, and their relatives, have melded into one big, happy unit.

  Nina and Joe are silent, staring at the screen as the doctor takes her measurements and confirms for them that everything is looking good at this stage. Finally, she clicks something and a printer spits out an image of the baby.

  “Here you go,” she says, handing it to Nina. “Something to put on your fridge.”

  “Thank you.” Nina clears her throat. “Would you mind printing another one? We have, um, two fridges.”

  She braces herself for a question, but the doctor merely smiles and says, “Sure.”

  “In two different houses,” Nina blurts.

  Dr. Sanjna looks up. “Hmmm?”

  “We live in two different houses.” Nina can’t bear to look at Joe. She can feel his tension.

  Dr. Sanjna smiles pleasantly. “All right, let me just . . .” The printer whirs again.

  “We’re not married, Dr. Sanjna,” Nina hears herself saying. “We’re not planning to get married, either. In fact, I’m not going to be the baby’s mom. I’m just having it for Joey. We’ve been friends all our lives, and . . .”

  “You don’t have to explain, Nina,” the doctor says gently, touching her arm.

  “I thought I should. I’m sorry. I guess it was too much information, but . . .”

  “It’s okay.” Dr. Sanjna wipes the gel off her stomach and hands her the second sonogram image. “You can get dressed now. We’re all set until next time. Take good care of yourself and that baby, Nina, and don’t forget to keep a close watch on your blood pressure.”

  Nina.

  She’s not calling me Mom anymore. Nina should be relieved, but all she feels is a pang . . .

  And renewed concern about her blood pressure.

  The doctor leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

  Joe says, promptly, “That was pretty awesome, wasn’t it?”

  “It was incredible.” Nina hesitates. “Joey . . . I just felt like I had to tell her.”

  “I know.”

  “I feel like we should tell everybody.”

  “We will, if that’s what you want.”

  “I just can’t stand lying to them.”

  “I know. I don’t like it either. I just thought it would make things easier.”

  “Maybe for now . . . but what about after the baby’s born? What about when I pick up and leave? They’ll be shocked, and they won’t understand. It doesn’t seem fair to anyone.”

  “You’re right. We should probably tell everyone before Mom and Dad go back to Florida on Sunday.”

  “How about if you tell your family, and I’ll tell mine?”

  He shrugs. “Whatever works for you, Nina.”

  None of this works for me, she wants to say. It’s getting more complicated by the second. And now that I’ve seen the baby. . .

  Just be glad it’s healthy, a calming, rational voice urges her. Just remember why you’re doing this. For Joey. The baby is for Joey. The pregnancy is for you. Now you know. Now you know how it feels to create and nurture a human life.

  Now you know what it was like for Mommy. Now you’ll never have to wonder. You’ve had it all. You’ve raised children, and now you’ll have given birth to one. You can go through life knowing you haven’t missed a thing.

  “All set to get dressed?” Joe reaches out, taking her hands to help her down from the table.

  His grasp lingers, steadying her, warm and reassuring.

  “Thanks,” she says, hurrying away from him, into the bathroom.

  Nope, she tells herself firmly. You haven’t missed a thing.

  FRIDAY NIGHT, JOE meets Danny for a beer after work at the Adonis.

  “Sorry I’m late.” He deposits his briefcase on the floor beneath his stool.

  “It’s okay. I always expect you to be late when you’re coming from the office. How’s work?”

  “Same as always. But only three more months to—­” Uh-­oh.

  Danny has no idea Joe’s quitting his job in April.

  “Three more months to what?”

  You might as well tell him.

  He isn’t in the mood to get into all the details, but this will be good practice for tomorrow, when he breaks the news to his parents that Nina isn’t their future daughter-­in-­law after all.

  “Three more months of working until I retire,” Joe says, then orders a draft beer from the hovering bartender.

  “You’re going to retire? Now?”

  “No, not now. In three months.”

  “Oh, right. Because in three months you’ll be sixty-­two years old. I get it.”

  “Danny, I never said I was going to work forever.”

  “I know, but this is news to me. Don’t get me wrong—­I think it’s great. I’m just surprised. You were always so driven.”

  “Not anymore.” The truth is, he threw himself into his career when Minnie left, channeling his passion for her into a passion for work. Now, his passion has shifted again . . .

  “It’s because of the baby, right?” Danny asks.

  “Yup. I’m not going to miss a thing.”

  “Cool. So you and Nina can hang out and raise the baby togeth—­”

  “That’s the other thing, Danny . . .” He takes a deep breath. “Nina’s not going to be hanging around.”

  “She’s still going to work for her Dad? What, Dom isn’t coming home to take over the business when he graduates after all?”

  “No, he is . . .” As far as Joey knows, that is. “But it’s not about her father’s business. Nina’s leaving in July. For good. Just like she planned.”

  Danny’s eyes widen in horror. “With the baby?”

  “No! Without the baby.”

  “You’re going to raise the baby alone? Oh, cripes, Joey, I’m so sorry . . .”

  “No, Danny, don’t be. It was the plan all along.”

  Joe explains the situation, expecting Danny, who has spent most of his adult life on the elusive quest for fatherhood, to understand completely. But his friend’s expression is clouded with misgiving.

  “I can’t believe it. I just thought you and Nina were right for each other,” Danny says, shaking his head and gesturing to the bartender to bring two more beers. “You had all of us fooled.”

  “I do care about Nina. I love her. She’s my best friend,” Joe says, and adds hastily, “my best platonic female friend.”

  “So you two used artificial insemination to get pregnant?”

  “Well . . . not that platonic.”

  “Let me get this straight. You love each other. You slept together . . .”

  Joe looks down at his beer.

  “You’re still sleeping together?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You don’t have to. I can tell by the
look on your face. And . . . you’re having a baby together. But you’re not going to stay together.”

  “Exactly.”

  Danny shakes his head. “And I thought marriage was complicated. Look, Joey . . . you’re positive Nina is never going to want custody of this baby? That she’s totally, emotionally detached from this pregnancy?”

  “I’m positive.” Joe pushes aside the memory of Nina’s expression yesterday, when the doctor was looking for the baby’s heartbeat.

  “Really? A hundred percent?”

  “Why?”

  “Because . . .” Danny sighs. “Never mind.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s just . . . the lawyer in me can’t help feeling like you’re asking for trouble if you’re having a baby together out of wedlock, and there’s the slightest bit of doubt about Nina’s willingness to give it up afterward.”

  “Danny, this is Nina we’re talking about. Not some strange . . . surrogate.”

  “Technically, that’s what Nina is. A surrogate.”

  “And what am I? Just the sperm donor?”

  Danny shrugs. “Things would be a hell of a lot less complicated, from a legal standpoint, if the two of you were married.”

  “Married? Danny, that’s not an option. She’s leaving.”

  “I know. I’m not talking about till death do us part marriage. I’m talking about a piece of paper. A legal document. So that nobody would doubt that you should have custody of the baby when Nina picks up and goes away next summer.”

  “Who’s going to doubt that?”

  “You never know.”

  “Oh, come on, Danny . . .” Joe rolls his eyes.

  “What if something happens to Nina?”

  “Don’t even say something like that!”

  “I can’t help it. I’m in law school. What do you want from me? I’m trying to protect you, Joey.”

  “From Nina?”

  “From paternity tests down the road. From a custody battle. From a palimony suit. From—­”

  “Palimony suit?”

  “You never know.”

  “I know.” Joe sips his beer resolutely. “I know Nina. And so do you. I can’t believe you’re—­”

  “Hey, I’m your friend. And there are no guarantees about anything in life. I’m just trying to—­”

  “Nina’s my friend, too. She’s doing this for me. She’s making this incredible sacrifice for me.”

  “I know that, Joey. All I’m saying is that . . .” Danny exhales heavily. “Look, pregnancy can do strange things to a woman who might otherwise be totally sane. Look at Barb. She’s still not speaking to me. It’s been almost forty-­eight hours.”

  “You mean she’s still mad about the ice cream?”

  Danny mentioned on the phone earlier that he had stumbled across an entire pint of Chunky Monkey in the freezer and polished it off as a midnight snack, only to be awakened by an infuriated Barb at three A.M.

  “Yeah, she’s not over it. I mean, how was I supposed to know she was going to freak out about it? We never have ice cream around. When I saw it, I didn’t stop to think. I just dove in. But the way she was screaming, you’d have thought I had slaughtered and eaten the dog.”

  Joe laughs—­until he remembers where the conversation was going before this.

  His smile fades. “Listen, Dan, I appreciate your trying to give me legal advice and everything. But Nina and I are fine with the way things are. I trust her. She would do anything for me.”

  “Then maybe she’d marry you. Just to keep everything simple from a legal standpoint. In a ­couple of years, you can get a divorce.”

  A divorce. From Nina.

  Joe shakes his head. “She won’t go for it.” And neither will I.

  “It can’t hurt to ask her.”

  Oh, yes it can, Joe thinks. It can hurt like hell when she says no.

  “HOW DOES IT feel to have the place all to yourself again?” Nina asks Joe a few nights later, as they settle on his couch with a bag of jalapeño potato chips and the television remote control.

  “It feels lonely,” Joe says, flipping from station to station.

  “You’re kidding. I thought you said you couldn’t stand another night in the house with the thermostat cranked to seventy-­five and your mother coming in to throw extra blankets on you in the middle of the night.”

  “I don’t know.” He stops clicking when he reaches a Knicks game. “I think I sweated off a few extra holiday pounds.”

  “Really? I’ll have to move in with your parents after the baby’s born. Your mother can swaddle me in layers of fleece every night until I melt off the weight.”

  “I hope not all of it.”

  “All of it,” Nina says firmly. “Boobs included.”

  He shakes his head in mock seriousness. “That would be a damned shame.”

  “Not for me. I just went up another bra size.”

  “Really? Let’s see . . .” Joe slides closer to her, putting his arms around her.

  “Joey . . .”

  “Hmm?” He nuzzles her neck.

  “You shouldn’t be doing that.” Even though she wants more than anything for him to continue.

  “I can’t help it.” He strokes her cheek with his fingertip. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  At that, she bursts out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You are. I’m anything but beautiful tonight. I looked in the mirror before I left, and . . .” She shakes her head.

  She has dark circles under her eyes, her chin has broken out—­hormones, again—­and her hair is pulled haphazardly back from her face with a clip. Her bangs still haven’t grown out since the summer, but at least now they stay put when she attempts to restrain them.

  “All that sweating must have affected your vision, Joey.”

  “Stop it. I’m serious. I’ve never seen you in that color. It makes you glow, or something.”

  She’s wearing pale pink. She never wears pastels, but Rosalee got her this maternity sweater for Christmas. She’s hoping for a niece, and somebody—­no doubt the evil Bebe—­has convinced her that a pink maternity wardrobe will help.

  Yeah, right. As if the baby’s sex hasn’t already been determined.

  “You know, it’s been almost a month since we’ve been together, Nina.”

  “Yeah, but . . . we should get used to using willpower, Joey. It’s not like we’re going to be able to do this much longer anyway.”

  “Sure we are.”

  “No, we’re not. Before you know it, I’m going to be huge . . .”

  And then I’ll be gone.

  “So? Huge can be a turn-­on.”

  “Oh, yeah, uh-­huh. Sure.”

  Nina can’t help being flattered that Joe is so attracted to her in this state—­or that he’s convinced he’ll continue to be. But they can’t keep acting as though they’re in a relationship. It’s not necessary—­at least, not when they’re alone. And it’s not emotionally healthy, either.

  She moves a few inches away from him and sits back against the couch. “Joe, we’ve got to talk.”

  “Uh-­oh. You called me Joe. That sounds ominous. Is it about Ralphie? Is he in trouble again?”

  “Come on, Joey . . . you know it’s not about that.”

  And now the thought of her brother’s recent problems at school have Nina feeling even more unsettled. According to Father Luke, Ralphie cut several classes last week. When Nina confronted him, he refused to say anything other than that he didn’t feel like going.

  “Then what is it, Nina? Is something wrong?”

  She pushes the thought of her brother out of her mind. “Yeah, Joey, this. This is wrong.”

  “What?”

  “Us. Together.” She waves her hand at him
. “Us fooling around like two teenagers who’ve just discovered sex.”

  “That’s what it feels like sometimes, when I’m with you, Nina. Don’t you think . . .” He moves closer. “Isn’t it exciting?”

  You have no idea.

  Nina squirms, trying to stay focused. “Whether or not it’s exciting is beside the point. The point is . . . the point is, uh . . .”

  She swallows hard.

  “I’m listening, Nina.”

  Yeah, he’s listening. But he’s also looking at her as though he wants to make passionate love to her.

  Nina clears her throat. “Um, first of all, Joey, we both know this isn’t going anywhere so it’s pointless to keep fooling around.”

  “Pointless, maybe, but fun.”

  “Joey!”

  “What? It’s the truth.”

  She folds her arms across her ample chest. “Secondly, we should have told your parents and my family that we’re not together the way they think we are. We said we were going to, and then we didn’t.”

  “I told you, Nina, that I kept trying to bring it up. Even at the airport. But I just couldn’t figure out how to say it.”

  “You could have just said—­”

  “Oh, geez. Pot! Hello-­o—­it’s me, Kettle.”

  “Joey—­”

  “Nina, you didn’t tell anyone either!”

  “I was waiting for you to tell your parents before they left, like we said.”

  “Well, don’t let me stop you. If you tell your family, I won’t have to tell my parents, because the news will probably be on Reuters before I can dial long distance. And anyway, I already told Danny.”

  “You told Danny? Why? I mean . . . Great. When?”

  “The other night.”

  “Oh.” Nina pastes on a smile. “Well, good for you. See? It’s not so bad, telling the truth. Now that Danny knows—­”

  “And I’m sure he’s told Barb—­”

  “Oh,” she says again.

  Why should it bother her that their friends no longer believe they’re in love? Isn’t that what she wanted? To stop carrying on this ridiculous charade?

  “I’m surprised Barb hasn’t called you.”

  “She did. She left a ­couple of messages yesterday, but . . .” But Nina can’t seem to muster the energy lately for anything other than what is absolutely necessary. “Anyway, Joey, what did Danny say?”