Chapter 13

Holden and I had fantastic sex. And when I say fantastic, I mean fantastic. To be honest, I can’t imagine anyone on this damned planet having better sex than Holden and me in the first year and a half of our relationship. We were crazy for each other. In bed he was passionate, uninhibited, and tender. He conquered me fully, and I hopelessly surrendered to him.

Grace, whom I saw often and talked to on the phone even more frequently, was a bit worried about me. She thought my relationship with Holden was codependent. Once she even said I behaved like an addict. I was offended for days and didn’t call her. Now, with hindsight, I can honestly say Grace was over the top. I think she was jealous because I didn’t spend as much time with her as I had before Holden. Once, when she was drunk, she more or less admitted as much. Even though Grace was exaggerating with this accusation of codependency, it was undeniable Holden and I had a special relationship. We loved each other. We loved each other with our whole hearts. The physical part was simply the cherry on top.

Then, Grace’s life took a sudden turn. Just before our senior year began, Ian, a freshman she met at a party, got her pregnant. When she told Ian the news, he heroically proposed marriage, but she broke out into loud peals of laughter.

“We’re not going to marry just because you got me pregnant, Ian,” she explained right away. “You’re only eighteen. You’re in no position to take on responsibility. Let alone play the family father. And, to be honest, neither of us want it.”

Then she decided she would keep the baby, so she tried, for the first time in her life, to have a real relationship. It didn’t work. Grace simply wasn’t made for a committed relationship, and when she was in her fifth month, Grace broke up with him. On Valentine’s Day. Ian stood outside Grace’s door with a ridiculously large bouquet of red roses that must have cost him a fortune. She opened the door, then promptly slammed it in his face.

“Dammit, I don’t love you, Ian!” she yelled at him through the door. “Go play with your friends.”

After that she came to me, buried herself in my arms, and cried all night.

“It’s better this way . . . he’s only eighteen . . . he shouldn’t throw his life away for me . . .”

Holden got us pizza and, because Grace couldn’t drink, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough. Although he’d planned a romantic Valentine’s surprise for us, meticulously preparing it for several weeks, he didn’t even drop so much as a hint at the time. He knew how much Grace meant to me and that she needed me. So, he brought us pizza and ice cream and then stepped into the background. That day I loved him even more.

“Good morning.” I tiptoed barefoot into the living room.

“Good morning.” Holden rubbed his eyes and sat up. He’d spent the night on the couch while Grace and I curled up in bed. I slipped under the woolen blanket beside him and snuggled up.

“Your feet are cold,” he said.

“Yes, and you’re all warm.” I sighed contentedly, pressed even more tightly against him.

“Is she still sleeping?”

“Yes. She cried half the night.”

Holden nodded in understanding as he planted a kiss on my hair.

“Do you think she’ll make it? All alone?” he asked after a while.

“Well. She’s not financially dependent on anyone.” Grace’s dad, who’d died a few months earlier of a heart attack, had left her a fortune. This money was administered in a trust account where it earned a lot of interest. And now, at twenty-one she had full access.

“And she’s not all alone. She’s got me.” I looked up at him. “And you,” I quietly added. It was a plea rather than a statement.

Holden smiled but didn’t answer.

Grace never questioned keeping the baby. Still, her situation required her to adjust her plans. She’d always thought of herself as a business woman—likely working a well-paid job at a Fortune 500 company. Grace had always had a road map—a well-thought-out five-year plan. Changing diapers and burping a baby hadn’t been part of it. Even though the delivery date was after final exams and graduation, Grace had a hard time accepting her new life. It didn’t help that the first months of her pregnancy were difficult. Grace cried a lot through that period and clung to me more than ever before. But the bigger her belly became, the more she came to terms with her new role. She even began to relish it.

“What did you say?” Grace looked down to ask her shockingly round seventh-month belly. “You want a bacon cheeseburger, large fries, six chicken wings, and a strawberry milkshake?”

I grinned as Grace looked at the Burger King employee at the counter with a shrug.

“You heard the baby: a bacon cheeseburger, large fries, six chicken wings, and a strawberry milkshake—oh, and a small salad for me, please,” she said. Then she turned to me. “Should we get something for Holden? I’m buying.”

“Nah, let’s just eat here.”

Grace had been at our place nearly every day over the past few weeks. So, I wanted to make sure Holden had a little down time at home, especially because, for the first time since he started his job as mechanical engineer about ten months ago, he was running his first project all by himself. In his position, he was required to put in peak performance. At night, he arrived home exhausted, and I had the feeling it was getting to be too much for him. In addition to the stress at work, he was doing everything a partner in a regular relationship would do for Grace. But since she was single, Holden moved furniture, set up a fridge, repaired the drain, assembled the baby bed and changing table, and painted the walls in the apartment Grace had moved into three weeks earlier.

“I can’t raise a child with a roomie,” she said.

I had to agree. The small apartment in Jamaica Plain was clearly a better situation in which to raise her child.

“How about a movie tonight?” Grace asked as she put another handful of fries into her mouth. “It’s Friday night, and the new Tarantino flick is playing.”

“Um . . .”

Wait. I haven’t mentioned that Holden and my love life had really suffered from Grace’s continuous presence. Maybe I’d manage to get home alone tonight . . . and attempt to make up to him just a little for the situation of recent months.

“I’m dead tired, Grace.” That wasn’t even a lie. “I really have to get to bed early.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.

“What about Heather,” I quickly suggested. “maybe she’d like to go to the movies?”

I got an astonished look. “Heather?” Grace asked skeptically. “What made you think of her? I thought you didn’t like her?”

“Well . . . a bit of variety might do you some good,” I carefully approached the topic.

She looked at me attentively, registered my every movement. I saw on her face that she’d understood what I meant.

“Okaaay.” The hurt was palpable. Grace had always been fairly quick to be hurt or offended, but she was incredibly touchy since she’d gotten pregnant. I could only hope that would normalize once the baby had arrived.

When I got home, Holden was asleep on the couch, a bag of Cheetos in hand. Judging from the TV show that was on—he wouldn’t have been caught dead watching a reality TV dating show—he had dozed off a while ago. Carefully, so I wouldn’t startle him, I took the bag from his hand and put it on the coffee table. Then I sat down next to him and gently stroked his hair. He opened his eyes blinking.

“Hey. What time is it?” Holden stretched, rubbed his eyes, and sat up.

“Almost nine thirty.”

“Is Grace at her place?” he asked.

I nodded, put on a telling smile, placed my hand on his chest, and moved it downward.

When I arrived at the button of his pants, Holden took my hand and kissed it. “I haven’t even showered.”

“Doesn’t bother me.” I took my hand from his mouth and was about to carry on where I’d stopped when he took it away again.

“I’m tired, Annie,” he said, sounding it. “I just want to shower and go to bed.”

I looked at him startled, almost ashamed. He’d never rejected me before. I had no idea how hurtful it could be.

“OK,” I said, suddenly feeling as rejected as Grace just had when I’d told her I needed to go home without her.

Holden got up without another word, pressed a kiss on my forehead, and disappeared into the bathroom. While the shower ran, tears trickled down my face. Had I asked too much of him recently? Had I taken care of him too little? Did he still love me?

When Grace rang the doorbell the next morning at nine on the dot, I heard Holden sigh.

“Good morning.” She came in beaming and carrying a bag of baked goods. She went to the kitchen as if it were her own, made coffee, and set the table. “There’s a new exhibit at the MFA,” Grace said while placing bagels and croissants in a basket and putting them on the table. “I thought we could . . .”

“I’ll go running,” Holden said.

“Don’t you want to have breakfast with us?” Grace asked.

“Not hungry,” he said and walked into the bedroom, then closed the door behind him. He reemerged a little later wearing his running gear and his headphones.

“See you,” was all he said. He gave me a brief peck on the cheek and left.

Grace seemed unbothered by his coldness. “I can’t wait to see Francesco Clemente’s paintings in person. I’m really impressed with him . . .”

As she babbled on, I stared at the door through which my partner had just disappeared. Then I turned to her and watched in amazement as she removed a carton of eggs from the fridge, took a bowl and whisk, and began cracking and beating the eggs.

The fog lifted from my eyes that very moment. I suddenly became aware of how much Grace had inserted herself into our home and life. You’d have thought she lived here. She’d even put a toothbrush in our bathroom. Only now did I recognize that we’d been living for weeks, if not months, in some sort of triangular relationship. I involuntarily shook my head. No. This couldn’t go on. I couldn’t risk losing Holden. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

“Grace.”

She looked up from the frying pan. “Yes?”

“We have to talk.”

Unsurprisingly, Grace was miffed for days. But I was willing to take it. It wouldn’t have worked out the way it was going. I was in a very serious relationship, and, pregnant or not, Grace had to accept that if she wanted to continue being my friend.

“This doesn’t mean I’m no longer here for you—I’m always here when you really need me,” I explained. “But Holden and I also need space and time for our relationship. Do you understand?”

“I think I understand very well,” she said peevishly and then grabbed her purse. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

She waddled off toward the door, head held high, then gave me one last withering look and slammed the door behind her. I heard her crying on the way down the stairs.

“Have you heard from Grace?” Holden asked three days later.

“No.” I sighed quietly. “She’s still angry with me.”

He came to me, put his arms around me, and kissed me gently.

“She’ll come around. Don’t worry,” he tried to cheer me up, kissing me again. “I’m proud of you having the courage to deal with this.”

I smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’ve asked too much of you.”

“It’s OK.” He shrugged. “She’s your friend, and she’s going through a hard time.”

“Yes, but final exams start in few weeks. Then I’ll have more than enough to deal with to finish up college, and I want to spend what little spare time I’ll have left with you. I know it will be hard for Grace too—even more so being as pregnant as she is. I’m there for her when she needs me, but I can’t have her hold on to me because she doesn’t know what to do with herself. How’s it going to work once the baby’s here? She’ll have to take responsibility for herself and the child.” I sighed again. “What if she can’t handle it?”

“She’ll grow into it.” Holden smiled. “Grace is a big girl after all.”

The next day, she finally texted me. She was too miffed for a phone call.

You’re right about what you said. Wanna go for coffee? Only if you and Holden don’t have plans.

I wrote back. Love to. I miss you.