Lost Along the Way(54)

“That’s for sure,” Jane said. “My husband’s idea of communicating with me these days is a monitored two-minute phone call asking for a conjugal visit. I don’t go, in case you’re wondering.”

“Sometimes, when it’s late and quiet and I feel lonely, I take them out and read them. They’re not as good as being with him, but it makes me feel like he’s still part of my life, like we still have something special. It isn’t fair, what happened to us.”

“What do you mean by ‘fair’?” Cara asked. “Fair has nothing to do with life. I think we all should’ve learned that by now.”

“It isn’t fair that there are women out there who have no problem staying pregnant and take it for granted. I used to see women eating fast food on the train while they were nine months pregnant and toting toddlers on their hips and it used to make me so angry I couldn’t even see. I had to stop reading magazines because every one I picked up had some story about a celebrity who was pregnant at like forty-seven years old, or a story about how someone else got her body back two weeks after having twins, or how some celebutante whose idea of a meaningful life is discovering a new way to prevent her lip gloss from wearing off on her martini glass accidentally got knocked up and how her life was changed. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that they don’t seem to even care that they’re pregnant. I did everything right, and God wouldn’t let me keep any of mine. I know I sound silly and bitter, but I just can’t understand it. How is it fair, huh? Tell me.”

“It’s not,” Jane said. “It’s not even remotely fair.”

“No, it’s not,” Cara echoed. She stared at the floor.

“And you wonder why I had a hard time staying friends with you when I found out that you just opted out,” Meg said, finally addressing the elephant between her and Cara. “You didn’t even realize the gift you had, or you didn’t care. I don’t know which, and at this point it doesn’t matter. You basically decided you didn’t want to be pregnant anymore, and just like that, you weren’t. How am I supposed to forgive you for that? I’m sorry, but to me it just seemed so selfish.”

“Wait . . . what are we talking about?” Jane asked. “I’m confused.”

“Cara’s abortion,” Meg said flatly.

“Whoa. I need more wine. And weed, if you have it. Are you sure there’s no weed in this house?” Jane asked. She stared at Cara and at Meg, neither one of them willing to look at the other.

“I told you it was complicated,” Cara said.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know,” Meg muttered. “How could you not tell me?”

“I never wanted you to know. Do you think I felt good about it? That it was an easy decision? It wasn’t. The entire thing was excruciating. I couldn’t possibly have a child with Reed. I wasn’t strong enough to handle it. I’ve second-guessed that decision every day since. And I probably will for the rest of my life, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I may not forgive myself for that, but I don’t think that I need to answer to you. I don’t mean that to be harsh, but it’s just the truth.”

“I had no idea, Cara. When?” Jane asked.

“Three years ago.”

“I’m really sorry. For both of you,” Jane said. “Wow.”

“What was it you said, Meg?” Cara asked. “Make decisions that make you happy, so that you have good memories to fall back on? If I had made a different decision, I wouldn’t have the option to leave. I’d be tied to him for the rest of my life. You didn’t know what I was dealing with, and you never bothered to ask. You just disappeared from my life. You didn’t answer my calls, my e-mails, nothing. You abandoned me. And the truth is, I needed a friend then more than ever. I’d always been there for you. And when I needed you, you walked out on me.”

Meg was silent. “I didn’t walk out on you. I walked away from everything. I’m sorry, but I just wasn’t able to see your side of things. To be honest, I’m still having a hard time with it. I know it seems selfish, but it’s complicated for me, too. I thought about calling you, but what was I supposed to say? It was too hard to talk to you. I wasn’t able to untangle everything.”

“You could’ve tried. I should’ve meant enough to you that you’d at least try.”

“I know that. I’m not proud of myself, but somehow it just seemed easier to be alone. I’m sorry, Cara. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well, you did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you had called and said that years ago, we could’ve moved on from our argument and been there to help each other. There was no reason for both of us to be alone all this time.”

“I know. Do you forgive me?”

“Yeah, I do. Still, what are we supposed to do now? Group hug and pretend that none of this ever happened? I don’t think we can just rewind time and start over like nothing ever happened,” Cara said.

“I disagree,” Jane said. “Women can totally do that because we are just better at accepting our own shortcomings and asking for forgiveness. None of us are free from blame, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t forgive each other. I don’t want to lose another ten years with you guys.”