The Measure(34)

“The watch was really important to him?” Ben asked.

“It wasn’t a family heirloom or anything like that. It was just a really fucking expensive watch. And the bastard owed it to me. I had to get back at him for wasting the past ten months of my life. He stole all of that time from me, so I couldn’t think of anything more apropos than stealing his watch.”

Terrell rolled up his sleeve and wriggled his wrist with a sheepish grin, the gold wristwatch gleaming in the fluorescent light of the classroom. Even Sean couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh man, I wish I had thought of that,” said Chelsea. “When my ex had the nerve to dump me by text, I just took a baseball bat to his rearview mirror.”

“Why did you break up?” Nihal asked.

“Well . . . he found out,” Chelsea said, and each member of the group could fill in the gaps.

He’d found out about her string.

“But it’s not all bad news,” Terrell said, deftly rescuing the group from further despair. “Technically, this is also a secret, but I happen to know that a new Broadway show is currently in development with an entire cast and crew of short-stringers. Writing, directing, lighting, choreography . . . the whole shebang! All short-stringers. People are flying in from all over the country to work on it. And, best of all, yours truly will be on the producing team.”

“That’s incredible,” said Ben.

Maura wasn’t surprised. “You can always count on the artists to step up,” she said, “especially during a crisis.”

“And to do it in song.” Terrell smiled.

“That reminds me, some of my old college buddies are launching this home exchange program exclusively for short-stringers,” added Nihal. “You can match with someone in another state, or even another country, and swap homes with them for a period of time. It’s supposed to make it easier for short-stringers to travel and see the world.”

“You have to let us all be beta testers!” Chelsea squealed.

“I actually have a pretty big secret, too,” said Lea, buoyed by the change in mood. “But you all have to promise not to tell anyone . . . yet.”

A few of the group members actually leaned forward in their chairs.

“I’m pregnant,” she said.

“Oh my god!” “Holy shit!” “Congratulations!” The group showered Lea with shock and excitement.

Maura was the only member of the group who stayed quiet, though nobody seemed to notice. Of course she was thrilled for Lea, but she couldn’t help but feel stunned. Lea was a short-stringer, too. Did she not suffer the same fears, the same burdens? Maura wondered if Lea had made all the same calculations, yet arrived at a different answer.

“Thank you, guys,” Lea said. “I figured I’d have to tell you all soon. It’s twins, so I’ll be showing in no time.”

Twins, Maura thought, at least that was good. At least they would have each other.

“Who’s the father?” Chelsea asked, and a few others shot her an alarmed look. “What? Is that like a taboo thing to ask?”

“Don’t worry,” Lea said. “I’m actually a surrogate for my brother and his husband, so my brother-in-law is technically the father. But the eggs were mine, so we’re hoping the twins might bear a slight resemblance to my brother, too.”

A collective “Ohhh” rippled through the group, but the revelation had a strange effect on Maura. A part of her felt relieved, there was no need for envy. Another part felt a little sad.

“Your brother and his husband must be so grateful to you,” Hank told Lea.

“Well, they did say that if it’s a boy and girl, they’re naming them Lea and Leo.” She laughed. “I sincerely hope they’re joking.”

Terrell touched Lea’s hand softly. “You’re giving them the greatest gift,” he said.

And Lea smiled. “That’s exactly what they said to me.” She rested her hands on her stomach. “It’s strange, because my brother and his husband both have fairly long strings, so it seemed to me like they already had the greatest gift,” she said. “But maybe they didn’t see it like that. And now, it turns out, I was the one who could give it to them.”

Maura remembered when the Pope had appeared on his balcony, declaring the boxes a gift from God. Perhaps for some people—like Lea’s brother, or Sean, or Nina—they were. But for everyone else, for the people in Room 204, at least there were other gifts, as Lea said. The trouble was simply recognizing them.

The musical that Terrell had mentioned—the dreams of a hundred short-stringers gracing the Broadway stage—sure sounded like a gift.

The moment, each morning, when Maura woke next to the woman she loved, a woman with every reason to leave.

The fact that she and Nina could even love each other, freely and openly, at all.

She decided, right then, to tell Nina the truth.



An hour later, Maura sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her girlfriend.

“I should tell you something,” she said. “I know that we never planned on having kids. And my string has only made it more clear that we shouldn’t. But, honestly, sometimes . . . I struggle with that.”

Nina looked poised to interject, to offer something kind and encouraging, perhaps even reopen the subject. But Maura shook her head.