LAINE
The rest of the night went more or less as I’d predicted. Hadley had cornered me in the kitchen to inquire why I hadn’t considered meeting with a coach or therapist before making a decision as major as divorce. Then Piper inserted herself into the mix to snap a selfie of the three of us, which she’d immediately texted to Josh. Sure, they’d always gotten along great, but I had a strong suspicion she was going to do everything in her power to try to get us back together—beginning with making him feel like nothing had changed. And instead of trying to sugarcoat that, as I normally would have, I said this to her.
“Chill, Lainey. Nothing has changed yet,” she said, making a peace sign with one hand and taking a shot of herself with the other. “Don’t worry, this one’s for Insta.”
“Speaking of which, I’m just not convinced you really want this,” Hadley said to me.
“I do,” I said, but even I could tell my voice lacked conviction. Truth be told, I wished Josh was there right now to distract my sisters.
“Why, exactly, do you think she’s doing this?” Piper asked Hadley. Whoever said multitasking was a myth had never witnessed my younger sister choosing a photo filter while deep in conversation. “There isn’t even anything wrong with their marriage.”
“Oh, believe me, I know,” said Hadley.
“Hello? I’m right here,” I said.
“Maybe Josh doesn’t want to stay married, either,” said Topper, who’d wandered over. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa, right in the middle of dinner, but had since awoken and was searching for scotch.
“He wants to stay married,” said Piper.
I jerked my head back. “And how do you know that?”
“Because, duh, Lainey,” she said matter-of-factly. “But also, I called him.”
“And what did he say?” I asked cautiously.
“That you’ve lost your mind.” She shot me a Cheshire smile. “Kidding. He said he was baffled.”
“That makes two of us,” said Hadley.
I was really glad I hadn’t told them why I was leaving him. I would—eventually. Maybe even after I was already pregnant. It was a shame I couldn’t confide in them now, because the two of them could probably tell me more than any doctor about what it was really like to try to have a baby.
“Don’t worry,” Piper said to Hadley. “If this was really happening, she’d be melting down. Remember how bad I was when Levi and I split?”
“As if I could forget,” said Hadley. “You dropped into the double digits—I practically had to force-feed you. And then it took another two months for you to stop crying.” She gave me the once-over before turning back to Piper. “But that’s not really Laine’s style. I’m not sure how, but she’s going to surprise us with this one.”
I highly doubted that and was almost glad that Lexi chose that moment to appear at my feet. “Pet her, Laine!” said Piper, picking up the little yipper. “Come on, she’s so soft.”
“No, thank you,” I said as Piper shoved her in my face.
“You don’t want to pet this cute little face?” Lexi was lunging at me now, and I lifted a hand to shield myself, only to be rewarded with a set of tiny fangs taking to my palm like it was a steak.
“Ow,” I said, yanking my hand away, which made my blood splatter directly onto Piper’s cream rug. “Oh no,” I said, immediately glancing around for a towel.
“It’s not a big deal, Laine,” said Piper, but she was frowning at Lexi. “Naughty puppy. Now Auntie Laine isn’t going to like you.”
“I like her just fine,” I lied, reaching for some paper towels. I knew for a fact that Piper had imported that rug from Morocco, and I wasn’t going to let the blood stain it. I quickly wrapped my hand so I wouldn’t keep making a mess, then located a dish towel and some detergent. “Just give me a minute,” I said.
In fact, it had taken nearly ten to clean the spot, and Piper had kept sighing deeply like she was somehow disappointed that I was helping her. Still, we hadn’t ended up actually having an argument, and not because Josh was there to buffer or because I’d had to smooth things over. That was as close to a victory as I could ask. Really, if I had it my way, I’d head back to Michigan the very next morning, heart warm with mostly pleasant memories. End on a high note and whatnot.
But now it was nearly eleven, and my mother and I were finally back at the apartment. “I’m fried,” I said to my mother, who was wandering around the living room, apparently hunting for something. She appeared to be wide awake. “Do you mind if I head to bed?”
“Course not, love,” she said, riffling through a pile of papers that had been left on an accent table.
“Which bedroom should I take?” I should have asked her this the moment I arrived, as it was entirely possible I was going to have to sleep on the sofa. Not that it would have mattered, but I guess I wasn’t so different from Hadley in that I wanted to know what the plan was.
“Why, your and Hadley’s bedroom. Where else would you stay?” she said, looking at me curiously.
“Last time I was here, that room had been turned into a closet,” I reminded her. “I’m guessing you haven’t redecorated since then.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she said, setting the stack of papers down. “I barely go in there. Try Piper’s room, then.” Piper had been a terrible sleeper as a baby, so my mother had put her in my room and moved me into Hadley’s. Eventually Piper started sleeping through the night, but she threw a fit when my mother tried to switch us back. Hadley didn’t care about sharing space with me—she was never home, anyway—so that was that until we all moved out.
“Okay,” I said, because I hoped it would be. I walked over and kissed her cheek. “Let me know if you need anything, all right?”
She smiled at me. “Isn’t that my line?”
I smiled back at her. And here Hadley had been making it sound like my mother was in the throes of dementia. I was glad I’d come to visit, because it had given me the opportunity to see for myself that, as usual, Hadley was overthinking it. So much for managing her mind, I thought as I headed down the stairs with my suitcase.
But maybe she’s worried about what happened to Nana, argued another voice in me. My mother’s mother had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in her early seventies. And though we hadn’t seen her all that much, since she was living in Florida, it was obvious that it’d had an impact on her cognition in the end. Parkinson’s wasn’t supposed to have a strong genetic component (I’d done a story on it for a wellness website a few years back, in part because I wanted to find out if I was at risk for getting it). Yet I wouldn’t have blamed Hadley if she was worried about how our family’s health history would affect our mother, or even the three of us. Now that I was ready to have a baby myself, it was probably a good idea to start thinking about things like that. I really hoped I could get in to see a doctor soon.
I let myself into Piper’s old room. My mother had turned it into a graveyard for broken and unwanted furniture, but the twin bed was free of clutter. And while she hadn’t put the sheets on—no surprise there—she had left them in a pile at the end of the bed. I set the urn on a corner of Piper’s old dresser and peeled off my clothes, then changed into pajamas and padded down the hall to the bathroom.
I was nearly there when I stopped and listened for my mother. I could still hear her knocking around upstairs, so I turned around and stuck my head inside her bedroom.
It was as tidy as the rest of the house, which is to say not very. There were shelves stacked with Depression glass that she’d inherited from her parents, and a mound of clothing on an armchair. In one corner, she’d shoved several large plastic bins full of something; I wasn’t eager to find out what. But again, it was no worse than when I’d been here in the winter.