The Mother's Promise(11)

“Maybe you could ask Emily to stay with you?” Alice suggested.

Zoe’s cheeks flushed.

“Mouse?” Alice pressed. “What is it? Did you and Em have a fight?”

“Worse,” Zoe said. “She wants me to go on a double date.”

Alice’s heart plummeted.

“I mean … I can’t go, obviously,” Zoe continued. “But if I don’t, Emily can’t go either. It’s an all-in kind of thing. I don’t know what to do.”

Zoe was fighting back tears and Alice felt a little like crying herself. Not Emily! she wanted to shout to the universe. Not today. What else are you going to take from us today? The arrival of Emily had been a godsend. Since their friendship had started, Zoe had, well, not exactly transformed, but improved. She’d started sitting in the cafeteria during the lunch hour instead of by herself outside on the lawn, and at home she spent hours holed up in her room with Emily, hunched over their cell phones, like normal teens. Occasionally Alice had even heard Zoe use the lingo, like “douche” or “cray-cray” or “I literally can’t” (though immediately she would blush, giving away the fact that it hadn’t come naturally). On the weekends, Zoe and Emily sprawled all over the sofa watching movies while scrolling through Instagram or Facebook or whatever was hip these days. Once Zoe caught her watching them and called her “creepy,” which only made Alice happier. She was the annoying mom! It was all she’d ever wanted to be. It was unthinkable that it could all be taken away from them because of (the lack of) a double date.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Alice asked.

For years they’d played this game when Zoe was afraid to do something. Alice would ask her to come up with the worst thing that could possibly happen; then they’d compare it to something much worse. (“I could fall over and land on my face,” Zoe might say, to which Alice would respond, “Which isn’t bad at all compared to…” “Drowning in elephant poop,” Zoe would finish.) At worst it made them laugh. At best it gave her the courage to do whatever it was she was afraid of.

“I could be humiliated and lose my best friend,” Zoe replied.

“Which would be terrible,” Alice agreed. “But not bad at all, compared to…”

“… something happening to you.” Zoe stepped forward and gave her a sudden, impromptu hug. Talk of gallstones had obviously affected her. Alice tried to swallow, but her throat had suddenly swollen shut.

Zoe pulled away.

“What if I come with you?” Alice joked. “I can wear a disguise and sit in the row behind.”

“Mom!”

“Or I could hang out in the foyer?” Alice grinned.

“No.”

“Or maybe,” Alice said, her smile slipping away, “you can actually do this?”

Alice nodded at Zoe with what she hoped looked like full confidence. She knew that, at best, Zoe would be back within the hour. At worst she wouldn’t make it out the door.

“Without you, you mean?” Zoe asked.

A lump rose in Alice’s throat. Could Zoe do it without her? Zoe looked at her expectantly and finally Alice smiled and nodded. Yes, you can do it without me, her smile said. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.





8

At 6 P.M., Kate looked in the mirror, assessing. Her hair, recently cut to shoulder length, fell in carefully constructed haphazard waves. She wore patterned silk pants, a black top, and ankle boots. An oversize beaded necklace to add some festivity. It was, after all, a special occasion. She was rounder, she decided, around the jaw. She’d gained a little weight—two pounds to be exact. Not much, but enough to make it real.

Lately, it seemed, Kate’s number had been two. There was the husband, who was on his second marriage, with two teenage children of his own. Two years of trying for a baby followed by two years of fertility treatments. Two pregnancies, followed by two miscarriages. But this was the third time. Kate hoped that, as the saying went, the third time was the charm.

She turned to the side and pulled her top down so it was taut over her stomach. “What do you think?” she said to David as he entered the bedroom. He glanced over at her for only a second before heading toward the bedside table.

“You look enormous,” he said without missing a beat. “It’s definitely twins.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not twins.”

“Honey,” he said, “every woman wishes she could look like you when she’s pregnant. When Hilary was pregnant with Jake, she looked like she’d swallowed a watermelon. And that was just in the first trimester!”

This was David’s favorite story about his ex-wife; he sometimes teased her about it when she came to pick up the kids.

“More like four watermelons,” Hilary would agree wearily. “What those kids did to my pelvic floor!”

David and Hilary had this sickeningly well-adjusted relationship for the sake of sixteen-year-old Jake and fourteen-year-old Scarlett, who divided their time equally between their parents. Perhaps the most sickening part was that even Kate liked Hilary. When Kate had become pregnant the first time, Hilary—and her new husband, Danny—had sent flowers. The second time she’d pumped Kate’s hands warmly and wished her the best of luck. They hadn’t told her this time. Twice bitten and all that.