The Mother's Promise

She was trying hard to be pleasant and it was uncomfortable and awful. Yet letting it out simply didn’t feel like an option.

“That’s really what he wants for his birthday dinner?”

“He’s a man of simple tastes,” Kate said. Like his father, she wanted to add, but it sounded too friendly, too conciliatory. And she was not feeling conciliatory.

She wasn’t sure why she was so riled up. It hadn’t been an unpleasant day. She’d spent the morning at the hospital and none of her patients had taken particularly bad turns. Even Alice seemed to be recovering well from the operation and should be discharged tomorrow. She’d spent the afternoon grocery shopping for Jake’s birthday dinner. Usually Kate loved the suburban humdrum of grocery shopping. She even enjoyed family dinners. Jake and Scarlett were good kids (how could they not be, with parents like Hilary and David?), and when they all got together she always felt a strange sort of pride at how harmoniously their blended family worked. In the early days, when she, David, Hilary and Danny and the kids gathered around the dining room table, Kate had always imagined the high chair that would one day be pushed up against the table. The chubby face that would be covered in red sauce. The big brother and sister who would lovingly talk about how annoying their li’l bro or sis was. The “annoying” kid who would be the apple of the family’s eye.

Kate had had such a clear picture of it all. And now that the image had been denied her, Kate felt cheated. It was, she realized, her own fault—marriage wasn’t meant to be conditional. But hadn’t she, during the last two years while she’d been playing the role of doting stepmother and new wife, been doing it on a silent promise of something to come? Hadn’t she signed up for a life that she’d only be happy with if certain conditions were met? She must have, because now that she understood David’s conviction that they should not have a child, she couldn’t seem to summon that old affection for Hilary, Jake, and Scarlett. Instead, she found herself entertaining different thoughts. Who are these strangers in my living room? These children who aren’t my own, this motherly figure who was once married to my husband? What happened to the things I’d assumed would once be mine—the big belly, the Lamaze breathing, the fluffy toys? The child who at certain angles looked like me and at other angles looked like David’s aunt Maude? What happened to that?

“Zoe’s staying again tonight,” she said to him, stirring the sauce. “She had an assignment to work on with a friend after school, but she’ll be here soon.” Kate paused when he didn’t say anything.

“Tonight? But it’s Jake’s birthday.”

Kate turned around. “Her mom is staying in the hospital for one more night. I didn’t know what else I could do.” She watched his face. “I mean … is that all right?”

“I guess it has to be,” he said finally.

David took the spoon from her. He began to lift it to his mouth, then appeared to think better of it and just stirred it instead. It was strange, feeling so awkward with the man who shared her bed.

“Zoe’s a quiet kid, isn’t she?” he said after a few seconds.

“She’s shy,” Kate said, oddly protective of her. “But she’s a sweet girl.” Kate took the spoon back. “I got a call from the clinic today.” She paused, letting that sink in, or perhaps, psyching herself up. “We don’t have any embryos left and they want to know if we were planning to do another stimulation cycle to harvest more eggs.”

The silence that followed felt charged. Finally, a sigh. “I’d been clear on this, Kate.”

“I thought I had, too,” she replied.

David was silent, which was a good sign. He was a thinker. He would understand that it was unreasonable of him, making this decision unilaterally. He might still worry, but he’d have to reconsider it if he understood how important it was to her.

“Kate, I just feel like this would be … prolonging the pain,” he said finally. “Haven’t we already implanted three embryos? Now to start the stimulation cycle again from scratch? Do you really want to go through all that again?”

“Yes,” she said.

David closed his eyes. “Well, I don’t.”

And that was it; they’d both finally come out and said it. Whoever said the truth was cathartic must never have been in their situation.

“So what do we do?” Kate said.

The question hung between them—a guillotine blade, ready to cleave them apart.

“Do you want us to, uh … come back?”

They both looked at the doorway, where Hilary, Danny, Jake, and Scarlett stood. A purple helium balloon with the number 17 on it bobbed above their heads.

David sprang into action first. “No, don’t be silly. Come in, guys.”

They stumbled into the room. It was hard to tell how much they’d heard, but from the way they were acting, they knew they’d walked in on an argument. Kate hustled to straighten up, to look nonchalant—everyone would be more comfortable if they covered it up, pretended it never happened. Kate knew the rules. At the same time she suddenly saw the utter ridiculousness of it.

“Yes, come in,” Kate said, pasting on a giant smile. She stepped forward to hug Jake. “Happy birthday!”





34

Zoe sat in Kate and David’s sunroom. She’d let herself in the back door when she’d found the front door locked. There had never been any discussion of a key and there was no way she was going to ring the bell—what if David or one of his kids had answered? She’d planned to creep into the kitchen, say a quick hi, and then rush up to her room, but then she heard the voices. Lots of them. There was some sort of gathering in the back room.

Now, she sat on a wicker chair, trapped. She had no intention of walking into a room full of strangers so instead she stayed put, thinking about Harry. Wishing she was back in that bedroom with him.

“Oh,” Kate said, coming into the room. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were home.”

“I let myself in the back door,” Zoe said. “Sorry, I should have—”

“No, it’s fine. I should have given you a key.” Kate pushed her hands back through her hair, uncharacteristically flustered. She wore skinny jeans with a white T-shirt, under a casual multicolored kimono. Zoe wondered if she put a lot of thought into what she wore or if it was just a talent of hers, looking effortlessly cool. “I was just … taking a minute. It’s Jake’s birthday, we’re having a gathering. Did you want to join us?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

Kate nodded slowly, perching on the arm of the wicker sofa. “Did you see your mother today?”

Zoe shook her head.

“She’s doing better, Zoe. She’ll be fine to come home tomorrow.”

“Will she be in pain?” Zoe asked.

“She’ll have to rest for a week or so,” Kate said. “No heavy lifting. She should stay in bed, or on the couch.”