Charlie calls me the night before he’s supposed to get into town.
“It’s all set, I guess. Mom knows I’m staying with someone else. That went over like a lead balloon.”
“She’ll be fine, trust me.”
“Yeah, and Natalie is a little nervous.”
“Oh, yeah, I would be, too. It’s a scary thing.” Am I nervous? To meet her? I think I kind of am.
“I told her, though, everyone loves pregnant ladies. Especially ones carrying my kid.”
My kid. My little brother just said “my kid.” It still doesn’t entirely make sense to me. But it is happening. I need to remember that. Just because it’s been a secret and I haven’t had anyone to talk to about it doesn’t mean that it’s not real. It’s real, and it’s about to become realer.
“OK, so you’ll just meet us at Mom’s, then?”
“Yeah,” he says. “What time is dinner again?”
“Dinner is at five, but I think we are opening presents around one or two.”
“That means two.”
“Huh?”
“Mom told you one or two so that you get there at one and she has more time with you, but really, she’s planning on two.”
“Why are you saying it like it’s some diabolical plan?”
“I’m not.”
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with your family wanting to spend more time with you.”
“I know,” Charlie says. “But we’ll be there at two instead of one. That’s all I’m saying.” He’s being precious with his time because he has someone he wants to spend time with. He wants to be alone with Natalie. He doesn’t want to spend his entire day with his family. Me? I’ll happily spend the entire day with my family. What else would I be doing?
“OK, then, I’ll tell Mom you’ll be there at two.”
“Cool.”
“And Charlie?”
“Yeah?”
“You got Mom a gift, right?”
“We’re still doing that?”
“Yes, Charlie, we’re still doing that. I gotta go. Rachel is calling on the other line.”
“Cool. OK, ’bye. And don’t tell her yet!”
“I won’t. I got it.” I hit the button to change calls, and I drop Rachel. What the hell? How hard is it to navigate two phone calls on the same phone at the same goddamn time? I call her back.
“Learn how to use your phone,” she says.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“So we have a problem.”
“We do?”
“Well, I do. And I’m inclined to make you help me, so it’s sort of your problem, too.”
“OK,” I say. “Let’s hear it.”
“Grandma read an article that says white sugar is linked to cancer.”
“OK,” I say. “So I’m going to guess that Mom is insisting that all of the desserts you make be sugar-free.”
“Have you even heard of such a ridiculous thing?” Rachel is the one being ridiculous here. We live in Los Angeles. It would take me five minutes to go out and find a gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free, vegan cupcake if I wanted.
“You can do it,” I say. “Dessert is like breathing to you. You have got this.”
“She doesn’t even have cancer,” Rachel says. “You know that, right? I mean, we never talk about it, but I think it’s clear the woman is cancer-free.”
I start to laugh. “You seem to have forgotten that that’s good news,” I say.
Rachel laughs. “No!” she says. “I love that she’s cancer-free, I’m just not sure why that means I have to make sugar-free pumpkin pie.”
“All right, how about this?” I ask. “You look at recipes now and find some you think will be good. Send me the list of ingredients that you don’t already have. I’ll go to the grocery store tomorrow and get them all. And then I’ll come over and help you cook every last one of them.”
“You would really do that?”
“Are you kidding? Absolutely. Mom didn’t ask me to bring anything this year. I should pull my own weight.”
“Wow,” Rachel says, her voice lighter. “OK, thank you.” Then she adds, “You have to get to the store before five or six, I bet. Just letting you know. The stores are gonna close early for Christmas Eve.”
“I will. I promise.”
“And will you also get some of that fake snow stuff ?”
“What stuff ?”
“They have it at the grocery store sometimes in the Christmas aisle. The stuff that you spray on the windows and it looks like snow?”
I know what she’s talking about. Mom used to spray it on all the windows around the house when we were little. She’d light a candle that smelled like firewood and sing “Let It Snow.” My mother has always put a big emphasis on showing us a proper Christmas. One year, Charlie started crying because he’d never seen snow, so my mom put ice in a blender and then tried to sprinkle it on top of him. I wonder if Charlie remembers that. I wonder if he’s going to put ice in a blender for his own snow-deprived child.
“You got it. You just give me a list, and I’ll get it all,” I say.
I hang up and put the phone down.
I look around the house. I don’t have anything to do.
I decide to text David. I don’t know why. I guess because it is something to do. Someone to talk to.
Ever think that the real problem with living without your spouse is that you’re sometimes just really bored?
I figure he may not answer. Or he may not see it until later. But he texts me back right away: Soooooo bored. I underestimated how much time being married takes up in a day.
I text him back: It’s like I resent the lack of distraction now. And I hated how much he distracted me before.
He responds: The worst is at work! I used to IM with her when the kids were taking tests or watching a movie. Now I just read CNN.
Me: It’s Dullsville.
Him: Ha ha ha. Exactly.
And that’s it. That’s all we say to each other. But . . . I don’t know. I feel better.