A Keeper(71)

Zach’s homecoming was not what she had expected or hoped for. He walked through the door with a backpack that dwarfed him and a very pregnant Michelle. The apartment seemed far too small for three people. Elizabeth was incredulous that she had failed to notice the pregnancy in December; how could she have missed it? They squeezed into the living room and sat down. Zach stared sullenly at the floor and gave monosyllabic answers to his mother’s enquiries about his trip. Michelle overcompensated, smiling brightly and going into great detail about some vegetarian restaurant Elliot had taken them to in San Francisco. Elizabeth wondered when they would address what was very nearly the elephant in the room.

‘I’m putting my stuff away.’ Zach got up and hauled his luggage with him. When he was gone Michelle leaned forward, affecting a look of remorse, and in a conspiratorial whisper said, ‘I’m afraid Zach isn’t very happy with me.’

That makes two of us, thought Elizabeth. ‘Oh?’ She couldn’t bring herself to ask more.

‘I explained about the baby.’

‘Explained?’

‘That I would be the primary caregiver. That I don’t want this event to overwhelm his life.’ She smiled at Elizabeth in a way that suggested they were kindred spirits in this plan.

‘It might be best if you left us. I think we have a lot to talk about and that might be easier if …’

‘Of course,’ Michelle said, getting out of the sofa with remarkable speed for someone so encumbered. ‘I’ll go.’

And then she left. Just went. There was no goodbye to Elizabeth or Zach.

The moment the front door closed, he thrust his head around his bedroom door. ‘Did Michelle leave?’

‘Yes. Yes, she did.’

Zach’s face darkened. ‘Did you tell her to go?’

‘No. I didn’t. I promise you, Zach, I didn’t. I think she just felt that you and I needed to talk.’

He leaned against the door frame, not looking at his mother.

‘Come on,’ she said kindly. ‘Come and sit down. I’ve missed you. Ireland was fairly crazy.’

He stepped forward and they hugged. It felt good to hold her boy.

‘Are you hungry?’

He nodded his head against her shoulder. ‘Starving.’

Zach sat on the single high stool in the kitchen while his mother made him a sandwich.

‘Pickle?’

‘No, thanks.’

‘Mayo?’

‘Yes, please.’

Elizabeth rested her hips against the sink and watched her son eat. He devoured the sandwich in great gannet-like bites and then went to the fridge to help himself to a glass of milk.

‘Thanks.’ He wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

They exchanged a smile. She didn’t want to be angry with him.

‘Michelle told me what she said.’

Zach stared into his milk. ‘It doesn’t seem fair. How come she gets to decide?’

Elizabeth felt she had to tread carefully. She knew this wasn’t just about him becoming a father, but also his way of saying something about her and Elliot. How their break-up had affected him. It hurt her to think that he felt he had missed out. In her mind things had been so much better when it had been just the two of them.

‘Of course the baby will want a father, but, well, you have to make decisions now that will make you the best possible dad.’

Zach put his glass down on the counter. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked defensively.

Elizabeth took time to gather her thoughts and chose her words carefully.

‘It’s just that if you go to college—’

‘But, Mom!’

‘If you go to college,’ she repeated, speaking over his interruption, ‘you’ll be better placed to provide for your child. Be someone they can aspire to be.’

‘Aspire to be?’

‘Yes.’ She was trying to sound reasonable.

Zach’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘And I suppose you think I want to end up like you!’ He gestured at his mother with a look that was a mixture of pity and disgust before leaving the kitchen and slamming his bedroom door.

Elizabeth sighed, and then, turning back to the sink, washed and dried his glass.

Later that night, she was sitting in the living room, marking up poems for her return to work, when Zach pushed open the door.

‘I’m sorry, Mom.’

She took off her glasses and rested the book over the arm of the chair.

‘That’s OK. But, Zach, and please don’t be mad when I tell you this, OK?’ She looked at him to check and he nodded.

‘Kids get to slam doors, not parents. Please listen to Michelle.’

Zach crossed the room in a couple of steps and slumped to the floor at her feet. He put his head in her lap and wrapped his arms around her legs the way he had when he was just a small boy. She stroked his hair and bent forward to give him a hug. Her son holding on to the last few moments of his childhood.

Over the coming weeks normality seeped back into their lives like an anaesthetic. Zach went to class and Elizabeth returned to tutorials, lectures and faculty meetings. Of course, she filled in friends like Laura and Jocelyn on everything that had happened, but it was as if she was describing somebody else’s life, another woman’s crazy, out-of-control family. Groceries got picked up, papers were marked, report cards were signed, laundry got dropped off. Sometimes two or three days would go by without Michelle’s name being mentioned. Elizabeth exchanged emails with estate agents in Ireland but that all seemed so far away and unconnected with her real life of hauling her heavy tote bag of books up the stairs from the subway, or calling her landlord to get the bulbs in the hallway replaced.