All Adults Here(93)



The stall door swung open. The belly came out first—a massive pregnant bump that put Porter’s to shame, nearly a full circle. The dress surrounding the bump was skintight, with vertical red and white stripes, a gigantic human peppermint, like something out of Willy Wonka. Porter’s eyes traveled up the woman’s body until they got to her head. Kristen Fogelman caught Porter’s eyes and smiled.

“Oh, hey,” Kristen said. She pointed to Porter’s belly. “Congratulations. Jeremy told me that you were expecting.”

“Yes,” Porter said, her mind shouting a host of expletives that she was trying hard to keep on the inside of her body. Her mouth felt as if someone had patted her tongue dry with a paper towel. She sifted through all the words in her brain until she finally spat out a complete sentence. She pointed to Kristen’s beach ball. “I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t?” Kristen shook the excess water off her hands. “That’s weird. But I guess that’s how it is with your third baby. The bloom is off the rose.” She wrinkled her nose. “Though I don’t feel like a rose so much as a watermelon at the moment.”

“That’s quite an age difference you’ve got,” Porter said, trying to think if it was possible that Jeremy actually was the father of her baby, even though she knew it wasn’t true. They hadn’t used condoms, she and Jeremy, on four different occasions now, and Porter imagined all his thousands of tiny little sperm hiding away inside her body, finding new eggs that weren’t yet spoken for, and taking up residence, waiting for this baby to be born before really taking root. Had she learned nothing? “Is he here? Jeremy?”

“Oh, sure, of course. Sidney and her friends are the little queens today, so cute. But yeah, I know,” Kristen said. “Built-in babysitters!” She straightened up and stepped toward Porter. Kristen came within an inch of Porter and then stopped, her mouth so close to Porter’s ear that they were almost touching. “Just so we’re clear,” she said. “He was never going to choose you. Everyone knows, Porter. You’re the only one who thinks you’ve got a secret. Kind of makes it even sadder, doesn’t it?” Kristen put her hands under her enormous belly. “It’s fine. You’re going to grow up someday. Or you’re not.” She walked away, hips swinging like a majestic elephant who knew its rightful place in the animal kingdom.

“Right,” Porter said. There was a line of women behind her now, all waiting patiently for their turn. When Porter didn’t immediately head into the stall, the woman behind her—Porter recognized her, she worked at Croissant City—piped up. “Aren’t you going in?” Porter shook her head, and the woman ducked inside the bathroom. He’d come back for more because she’d let him, not because he was unhappy with his marriage. Porter shuffled into the bathroom the next time it opened and sat down. She could hear the sounds of the parade outside, the merriment, the people. Vasectomies were reversible, another win for the male ego. He hadn’t told her, of course. Porter made herself a wad of toilet paper and tried to breathe into it, a makeshift paper bag, but tiny fibers flew off and into her throat. She coughed and coughed, forgetting that she was in public, forgetting that she would ever have to get up and move, and see her family. See anyone’s family. See August’s parents, who were clearly doing the right thing, and her brothers, who were trying. See Astrid, who was in love. Porter didn’t know how, after everything, she’d managed to be the biggest failure of all.

“Porter?” a voice called from the other side of the stall door. Astrid’s firm knock was unmistakable. “Porter, what’s going on? Are you all right?”

“Hi, Mom,” Porter said. She leaned forward and unlocked the door. Her mother stared down at her and then took a tentative step into the stall, squeezing to the side until she could close the door behind herself.

“Okay,” Astrid said, crouching low, their foreheads now level, their knees knocking against each other. “It’s going to be okay. You are strong, and you are brave, and you are going to be a great mother.”

That made Porter sob harder. “Those are the three nicest things you’ve ever said to me. You can space them out, you know.”

“I’ll try,” Astrid said, and put her arms around Porter’s shoulders, letting Porter’s weight fall against her like she had as a baby.





Chapter 41





Team Kids, Part Two



After the parade was done and everyone disembarked the floats, it was as if Robin had won Harvest Queen. Sidney Fogelman kept her distance, but her henchmen were among those crowding around to congratulate Robin on her bravery. Liesel took a selfie. Almost all the seventh-grade girls huddled around Robin and told her that she looked beautiful in her dress, because she did. Nicky saw Robin’s parents—noses running, eyes gleaming—a few yards away and went to say hello. Porter and Astrid came back from the bathroom and huddled together in front of Shear Beauty. So many people were talking that it took Porter’s family a minute to realize that something else was going on when she staggered back into the clump of her family.

Elliot leaned over to whisper in his sister’s ear. It was noisy, and Porter was having a hard time talking, and so Elliot crouched next to her and waited. Nicky came back up from talking to Robin’s parents and then quickly sank down next to his brother. Astrid watched their three heads—from above it was easier to see how they all looked alike, their hair the same shade of brown, their backs all curving the same way—and she felt that surely she hadn’t done every single thing wrong. Small victories carried the day, didn’t they?

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