The Night She Got Lucky
Ginger sighed. “I think I’m pregnant.”
“She’s still holed up in the bathroom with Josie,” Roxanne said, opening the door to Ginger’s home, ushering Bea and Mrs. Needleman inside. Bea transferred the old lady to Roxie’s care, and Roxie guided her through the foyer and into the living room.
“They’ve been in there the whole time?” Bea asked, incredulous.
“Yeah,” Roxanne said. “She says she’s never coming out and she won’t let Josie out, either.”
“Well, this is just hellish,” Bea said, throwing her car keys onto the front hall table.
“You doing okay, Mrs. Needleman?” Roxanne made sure she was seated comfortably on the sofa.
“Oh, stop fussing over me. I’m fine. It’s Genevieve I’m worried about.” Mrs. Needleman set her big square handbag on the floor by her feet. “Now, you go up there and tell her enough is enough.”
Roxanne’s gaze traveled to where Bea stood in the foyer, arms crossed and eyes rolling toward heaven.
“Who, me?” Roxie asked.
“You and/or Bea. It hardly matters,” Mrs. Needleman said. “Just go up there and tell her that I am an eighty-four-year-old widow and I’m in no position to climb up all those steps, and, since she asked for me, the least she can do is be courteous enough to come downstairs.”
“I’ll do it,” Bea said. She ran up the steps, taking two at a time. She called out to Josie and Ginger once she got to the upstairs hallway, not certain which bathroom they’d been using as their positive-pregnancy-test fallout shelter.
“We’re in here!”
Bea followed Josie’s voice and stood in front of the door of the master bathroom. She tried the knob. It was locked.
“Okay, girls. Open up.” Bea listened as Josie tried in vain to get Ginger to agree to leave the bathroom. Bea heard Ginger crying, then the sound of the lock disengaging from the other side of the door.
Josie opened it a crack. “Is Mrs. Needleman here?” she asked.
“Downstairs,” Bea answered, poking her head inside to see Ginger huddled on the floor next to the Jacuzzi. “And she said she’s too old and frail to get up the steps. She said if Ginger didn’t put on her big-girl panties and get down there in two minutes, she’ll be leaving.”
Ginger looked up, her eyes red and swollen, the test stick dangling from her hand. “She really said that?”
“Yes.”
“Really?” Josie asked, looking doubtful.
“Okay, not the part about the big-girl panties. That was my contribution.” Bea walked toward Ginger and held her hand down. “Come on, little mama. You can’t spend the next nine months cowering in the bathroom.”
“Seven months,” Ginger said, taking Bea’s hand and allowing herself to be pulled up. “I’m two months pregnant.”
“Those tests tell you all that?” Bea asked, impressed. “I always thought it was just an on/off kind of result.”
Ginger shook her head. She ran cool water over a washcloth and dabbed her face. “The test doesn’t know’I know.”
“Well, I hate to tell you this,” Bea said. “You’ve got a whole lot less than seven months to get your act together, because your boys are going to be home from school in about an hour.”
“Oh, no, that’s right!” Ginger straightened up and smoothed out her shirt. “And Piers is coming over to pick up Jason at five. I need to get a grip.”
Bea steadied Ginger’s elbow and led her and Josie into the living room. Bea delivered Ginger to the spot next to Mrs. Needleman on the sofa.
“You have a lovely home, dear,” the old woman said to Ginger.
“Thanks.”
“Just think how fortunate you are! Think about all you will have to offer this blessed child of yours.”
No one said anything. Josie left the room and came back with a handful of paper napkins from the kitchen, shoving them at Ginger.
“You have already proven that you are a loving mother,” Mrs. Needleman said. “You have a man who adores you, two nearly grown sons who will be devoted big brothers, and a thriving business concern.”
Ginger blew her nose into a napkin.
“Genevieve, do you remember what I told you when you came to my home?”
“Yeah. You told me I was in for a bumpy ride.”
“Yes, but what did I say after that?”
Ginger took a deep breath and folded the napkins into a neat pile in her lap. “You said my little family would come out just fine. But I didn’t know you meant I was about to have a new little family member!”
Mrs. Needleman patted Ginger’s hand. “Do any of us ever really know what is around the next bend?” She looked at the three women gathered near the sofa.
“Josephine, a year ago could you have even imagined where you are now?”
Josie laughed. “Hell no.”
“But is your life now better than ever?”
Josie’s smile was huge. “I guess, though some days I really miss Lloyd.”
“For God’s sake,” Roxanne said. Everyone else laughed, remembering the last of Josie’s ex-boyfriends.
Mrs. Needleman turned to Bea. “Do you know where you’ll be a year from now, Beatrice?”
She chuckled. “Collecting cans?”
“I think you will be pleasantly surprised.”
Mrs. Needleman turned to Roxie next. “Think back to a year ago, Roxanne. Could you have envisioned your life as it is today?”
“No,” she said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “A year ago I had the job of my dreams and a man I thought was the love of my life.”
“So it can all change in an instant, can’t it?” Mrs. Needleman asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Keep that in mind, my dear,” she told Roxanne.
“And Genevieve, how much has your life changed in, say, the last three years?”
Ginger let out a combination groan and laugh.
“And looking back, can you say that there was a reason for all these changes?”
Ginger peered up from her napkin collection and nodded at Mrs. Needleman.
“Tell us about that.”
She looked into the faces of her friends and gave them a sad smile. “It’s nothing everyone hasn’t heard a hundred times.”
“Refresh our memories,” Mrs. Needleman said.
Ginger took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Well, I guess you could say I found Larry doing the math tutor in the driveway because I needed to know the truth about my marriage. I guess I wasn’t brave enough to see it without, you know, a few audiovisual aids.”
Bea snorted.
“Nicely put.” Mrs. Needleman patted Ginger’s hand in delight. “Anything else?”
“Well, I guess you could say I was at Josie’s wedding to meet Lucio.”
Everyone nodded.
“And that Lucio got thrown out of China so that he would be here in San Francisco to take pictures at Rick’s wedding, so he could meet me.”
More nods.
“And I became friends with Josie, Rox, and Bea so that I would be a bridesmaid on that day,” Ginger said.
“And we became friends because we all had dogs,” Bea added.
“And we all had dogs because we thought they were more reliable than men,” Josie said.
“And I was so vain and self-centered that I ordered a size four bridesmaid dress, which cut off my air supply and caused me to faint, which meant Lucio had to carry me to my room and kiss me.”
“Which means this could go on forever,” Roxie said, looking bored.
Mrs. Needleman giggled and her narrow shoulders bobbed up and down. She clapped her hands in delight.
“That was your whole point, wasn’t it?” Bea asked.
“Absolutely correct, my brilliant friend.” Mrs. Needleman turned her attention to Ginger. “Now, with that kind of cosmic context in mind, how in the world can any of us see this baby as a mistake, or a problem? Everything in Genevieve’s life has led up to this moment—this child
. There is a reason. There is always a reason.”
Bea sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. Josie put her arm around Bea and pulled her close. Roxie cracked her neck.
“Well, then, I guess my next step will be to tell Lucio,” Ginger said, her voice getting stronger. “Then together we’ll tell the boys. And I guess—wow’we’re going to have to tell Larry.”
“Ooh, ooh! Can I watch?” Bea asked, clearly over her moment of sensitivity.
“I just hope to hell it’s a girl,” Roxie said.
“I didn’t even think of that!” Ginger straightened from her slump, suddenly brightening. “I’m so used to having boys that I just assumed I had another one in there! But what if it really is a girl?”
“What would you name her?” Josie asked.
“HeatherLee?” Bea suggested. “HannaLynn?”
Ginger shook her head, laughing. “I’m sure that together we’ll all come up with the perfect name.”
“Hey,” Josie said, smiling shyly. “Do you think you guys can help me come up with a name, too?”
Everyone stared in silence.
“My sister named Genghis, so I’m damn sure not asking her for suggestions when it comes to a baby.”
“What!” Roxanne clutched at her heart.
The next five minutes were nothing but screams of happiness and jumping around and Bea letting loose with a few whoop-whoop-whoops of joy.
“Does Rick know?” Ginger squealed.
“No. I’m telling him tonight,” Josie said. “So nobody—I mean nobody—can say a word to anyone, all right?”
“Same goes for me, actually,” Ginger said. “This is all just between the four of us—” She stopped herself, turning toward Mrs. Needleman. “I mean the five of us.”
“The seven of us,” Bea said, pointing at both Josie’s and Ginger’s bellies.
Mrs. Needleman giggled.
“Come on up here,” Bea said, walking over to the sofa and helping the older woman to her feet. “We have a little ritual that we do. Maybe you’d like to be part of it.”
“Well, I’ll certainly try my best,” she said, joining in the circle.
“Pile on, girls,” Bea said, shoving her hand in the center, palm side down.
Ginger put her hand on top of Bea’s. Roxie put hers on Ginger’s. Josie took hold of Mrs. Needleman’s arthritic hand and placed it gently over Roxie’s, then put hers on top.
Josie went first. “I pledge to enjoy every moment of this next phase of my life, to be open to all the adventures that lie ahead, no matter what is around the next corner.” She winked at Mrs. Needleman.
Bea went next. “I vow to provide rides to doctor’s appointments or Lamaze classes or run out for pickles and baklava or anything else you girls might need in the coming months. Plus, I will learn everything I can about babysitting. But I won’t make a pest of myself. Plus, I swear I won’t tell Teeny about any of this.”
“You better not!” Josie said.
Roxie looked at Mrs. Needleman, who nodded for her to go next. Roxie sighed before she made her contribution. “Okay,” she said. “I give my word to all of you that I’ll refrain from bad-mouthing men during your pregnancies because, well, men are how you got that way in the first place.”
Everyone snickered.
“And if they turn out to be boys I’ll love them anyway,” she added.
“Thank you for that, Rox,” Josie said.
They all turned to Mrs. Needleman, who giggled again. “Is it my turn?” she asked.
“Yes!” they all said together.
“Can I say anything I want?”
“Of course!”
“All right, then.” She cleared her throat. “I promise to watch over each and every one of you, forever.” Mrs. Needleman’s eyes sparkled. She took her free hand and placed it on Ginger’s belly, bending slightly to address whoever lurked inside. “And that means you, little one.” Then she touched Josie’s stomach. “And you, too, my dear.”
Mrs. Needleman straightened and her eyes filled with happy tears. “You have no idea how much joy you’ve brought to this little old woman,” she said. “I treasure you all.”
By the time the boys got home, Ginger had showered, fixed her hair, got something in her stomach, and made herself presentable.
The boys didn’t notice that anything was amiss. Of course, they were distracted by the bag of Doritos, the leftover apple pie, the frozen miniature bagel pizzas, and the half a gallon of orange juice they were hauling out of the refrigerator.
Josh ripped the foil cover off the pie tin, perplexed. “Hey, how many pieces of this pie did you eat last night, Fatty McFatface?”
“Shut up, Faggy McFagtard,” Jason said. “I had one piece last night, like everyone did.”
“But there’s only one piece left! Who’s going to get to eat it?” Josh moaned.
“Ever heard of fractions, President Pissbrain?”
Ginger sat down at the kitchen table, putting her hands in her lap, thinking back to when her boys didn’t insult each other twenty-four/seven, to when they didn’t have armpit hair, or Facebook accounts.
She remembered when she was pregnant with them. She loved being pregnant. She’d been equal parts thrilled and terrified. She’d read everything she could get her hands on, and knew on any given day what exact stage of development the babies had reached. She remembered feeling as if she were the center of the universe, the only woman who had ever been pregnant. She’d felt more special—and more beautiful—than at any other time in her life.
This time around, she would be less terrified and more knowledgeable. She would savor it instead of wishing the time would race by. She would feel even more special, because this baby wasn’t planned. This baby had arrived in her life unexpectedly, just the way his or her father had.
Suddenly it dawned on Ginger that Josh and Jason would be well over sixteen when the baby was born. She gasped. They’d be thirty-four-year-old men by the time the baby graduated from high school! And she’d be fifty-eight!
“What are you thinking about, Mumu?” Josh asked. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Jason said, putting the pizza bites in the microwave. “Dad told us you were going through the change and that we could expect to see you freak out on a regular basis. So is that what you’re doing now?”
Ginger laughed at the irony. Just a couple months ago she was worried about whether to get a glycolic acid facial. Now she was worried about getting enough folic acid. Back then she was booking appointments with plastic surgeons who could make her look younger. Now she had to book an appointment with an OB who specialized in older moms.
She smiled at her boys. “I’m going through a change all right, but not the one your dad thinks.”
Jason shoved a wad of Doritos in his mouth and looked at her for a minute, as if he were weighing her last statement. “You know, Dad said he didn’t appreciate all the time Lucio was spending with me. He said he thought Lucio was just pretending to like me and Josh so you’d let him move in here and sponge off your alimony.”
“He called him a freeloader,” Josh said.
“And a gigolo,” Jason said.
“And Dad said your work at Petography wasn’t a real job,” Josh said.
“And he said he’s going to come over here one day and kick Lucio’s ass,” Jason added.
Ginger began laughing in earnest. It was just too hilarious. Here she was, knocked up with the disingenuous, freeloading gigolo’s baby and not even gainfully employed! Was Larry going to have a field day with that, or what?
She was laughing so hard she didn’t hear the doorbell.
CHAPTER 18
Piers stayed for a quick cup of coffee, talking with the boys about his work. Eventually he told Jason they should be going. “Do you mind if I speak with your mom for a moment?” he asked Jason.
“Sure,” he said. “Let me get my backpack from my room.”
Piers opened the patio doors and gestured for Ginger to walk with him out
side. HeatherLynn was right at her heels. It was a cool October day, and Ginger pulled her cardigan close.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, noticing a nervous energy in Piers.
He laughed a little. “That’s what I wanted to discuss with you.”
Ginger stopped walking, and placed her hand on Piers’s forearm. “Is it Lucio? Is he all right?” She couldn’t prevent the horrible thought from racing through her head—something had happened to him before she could tell him about the baby!
“He is fine, physically. That’s not it.” Piers pulled out a chair for her at the outdoor table. “Maybe you should sit down.”
She did, yanking the sweater tight across her chest, suddenly shivering. HeatherLynn put her paws on her shin, whimpering to be picked up.
“I don’t know you very well, Ginger, but you seem like a very nice woman, and so I believe it is my duty to tell you that Lucio may not be exactly what he seems.”
Ginger’s heart thudded. For a second, the blood pounded so hard in her head that she couldn’t hear.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
Piers looked racked with uncertainty. “I love him. He is like a brother to me,” he said, now near tears. “But I can’t just sit by and watch him do this to you, the way he’s done it to so many women.”
“Do what?” Ginger asked, her head suddenly clear, the blood rushing to her limbs. She knew she would have to fight the instinct to run away—that was how much she did not want to hear what was coming next.
“You know, Lucio is not very good at keeping relationships going. He left his home in Spain and has had no contact with anyone in his family. It’s sad.”
“I knew that,” Ginger said.
“And he’s walked away from every woman he ever professed to love. One of them was so mad she had him tossed out of China and let go from his Geographica contract as her way of getting revenge.”
“He has told me all about this.”
“And my late wife, Sylvie? He crushed her heart into a million pieces.”
Ginger didn’t like how this sounded. It was as if Piers were trying to poison her view of Lucio.