CHAPTER 20

gray: that bullet

I’d followed the Mast Farm Inn on Twitter for years, so I knew already that it was the perfect place for an impromptu getaway. I’d pictured Price and me holding hands driving through the mountains, taking a leisurely road trip. When we parked at the airport, needless to say, I realized that picture wasn’t going to develop.

My hand-holding visions were instantly replaced by those of us plummeting out of the sky and onto the highway.

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked as Price walked up to a tiny four-seater plane.

“No, I am not kidding.” He tipped a fake hat. “Best pilot on the East Coast. This will be my second flight.” He grinned.

I started to walk away, and he laughed. “Come on, Gray, I do this twice a week. And the plane has an emergency parachute.”

I hadn’t wanted to come on this trip at all once I found out that Brooke and Greg were going to the British Virgin Islands for their wedding planning trip. I had said to Diana, “Really? Who goes away to ‘plan’ their wedding? And the BVIs? Couldn’t they have picked somewhere a little more original, like, not where we went on our second honeymoon?”

She had just rolled her eyes. “If you’re trying to get out of your own trip, it isn’t going to work. You’ve given up just about enough for Greg.”

Quinn, who had her head in the fridge, said, “Come on, Gray. I’m here. I’ll keep Wagner.”

Diana and I had shared a terrified look, and she mouthed: I’ll stay here the whole time.

I had nodded. Ever since, she and Wagner had been plotting every time I came in the room. I was pretty sure it was just about how they were going to make pizza, but still. He loved her, and she loved him. Wagner and I were both going to take it really hard when Diana left for good.

Now, on the tarmac, Price was saying, “Wait. How much do you weigh? I need to make sure we can still take off.”

“Ha-ha.”

We landed an hour later in one piece, and it sure beat the pants off of the seven-hour drive.

A car awaited us at the airport, and we arrived at the Mast Farm to lunch. Wine and the first course, soup made from vegetables from the farm, were already waiting for us.

“Wow,” I said. “This is great. So, what kind of work do you have to do tomorrow?”

“Let’s see. I thought I’d start the day with a stack of pancakes and fresh sausage here, then take a long hike with my favorite girl.” He winked at me.

I nodded. “Your job sounds pretty great. Where do I apply?”

“Did I say this was a work trip?”

“You did.”

“Ohhhh. I guess I should have specified that it was more of a ‘work on getting Gray to fall in love with me’ sort of trip than an actual ‘things for the office’ trip.”

I laughed. He looked me in the eye, and I said, “Well, I’d say so far, so good.”

“So do you think we should just bite the bullet?”

I looked at him inquisitively. “What bullet would that be?”

“Families. Sad stories. Yada yada yada.”

“Oh… that bullet.” That was a bullet I was hoping to avoid for a little longer, pretend it was just us hanging out like we were fifteen and this was all fun.

“You first,” I said.

“Okay. CliffsNotes?”

I swallowed a sip of wine and said, “Definitely.”

He took a deep breath. Here we go. “Ex-wife, Kate. Went back to get her master’s. She found a love of Italian literature, and I found her in the back of her Suburban with her Italian literature professor.”

“Ew.”

“You have no idea. Those Italian men…” He cocked his head and squinted as if trying to erase a memory. “Anyway… Anna, twelve. Adorable. Perfect. Slept through the night at four weeks old. Never needs anyone to check her homework. Jackson, ten. Athletic. Disorganized. Slept through the night… well, we’re still waiting. Thinks his floor is a depository for sweaty soccer socks.”

I was laughing so hard I thought I might choke. But my stomach turned over at the mere thought of attempting to mishmash a bunch of families together.

He smiled. “It’s your turn. I told you my sad story.”

I sighed. “Fine. Greg traded in his Suburban with the TVs in the headrests”—I pointed at myself—“for a Maserati with the top down.”

Price nodded.

“Wagner. About to turn nine. The love of my life. I only technically have him every other week, but I made my ex move next door so I can see him every day no matter whose week it is.” It sounded better when I framed it like that instead of that I had somehow gotten swindled into it by Brooke.

“You want more?”

I shrugged. “I’m not opposed to it, but I’m not married to it either.” I paused. “Wait. More time or more babies?”

He laughed. “Babies.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want more babies?”

“I think the world is made for even numbers. Four children seems right.”

That was funny. Marcy always said the world was made for even numbers too.

The rest of the day passed just as gloriously, hiking in the mountains and perusing Blowing Rock’s charming downtown.

The one chink in the armor? A harmless-seeming beep from my cell phone. One little beep. Or maybe it wasn’t the beep so much as what it signified. I’m sorry about last week. I meant what I said, but I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at you. I really do hope you find what you’re looking for.

My heart sank.

“What’s up?” Price asked.

“Nothing,” I said casually.

I was all ready for our dinner, hair fixed, makeup on, and dressed. Price, with his mussed hair and goofy grin, had just woken up from a nap.

I kissed him, trying to erase that text message from my brain. “Hey,” I said, “I’m going to go for a quick walk around the property while you get spiffy for dinner.”

He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my neck. “Don’t you want to just order room service?”

“You have been so excited about this tasting menu,” I said. “I’m not going to let you miss that.”

“What I’m excited about is you. I don’t care a thing about what I eat.”

I shrugged. “Shame to waste this dress?”

He nodded. “Oh yes.”

I smiled and kissed him. He was so damn cute. But I felt like something was missing. And I felt like I needed some air. “Perfect.”

I did need to call and check on Wagner. Afterward, I sat down on a bench by the small farm, rubbing my arms against the chilly night air. In a cabin over there was a man I couldn’t have even dreamed up, he was so right for me. So why did I feel so conflicted? I watched the sun as it made its descent, so gloriously beautiful that it blocked out the confusion in my head.

My mother never missed a sunset. She loved them all. I sighed. She would have known what to do in this situation. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what she would have told me. She would have loved Price. He was son-in-law material.

But this was ultimately my decision; I was on my own now. Andrew’s I hope you find what you’re looking for kept running through my mind.

Half an hour later, Price ordered the Mast Farm’s finest champagne, and I couldn’t help but be taken with him, not because he could order fine champagne, but because he was this walking billboard for don’t take yourself too seriously and seize the day. He had come to me when I needed to be reminded of both.

“Let’s order for each other,” he said.

“What?”

“Let’s order for each other, so we’ll try something new. Okay?”

I smiled. “Yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

That was what I meant. He made me laugh; he gave me butterflies—and all I could think about was Andrew. I thought about how Andrew would catch my eye and wink when we were across a crowded room, how, when he was near me, he always had a hand or an arm on me, how he always got me a glass of water before bed and set his alarm for ten minutes earlier than he had to get up so that we could have those first few minutes of the day to just be together. He made me feel protected and, what’s more, totally adored. And I let myself consider, for the first time without batting the thought away, that maybe Andrew and I were something more than just a summer fling.

Price was laughing, and I sighed. “We really are perfect for each other, aren’t we, Price?”

I could see his face fall as he said, “Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t going to end with ‘Let’s go back home, sign a prenup and make an ‘ours’ baby’?”

I laughed. “An ‘ours’ baby?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. You know, like Yours, Mine and Ours.”

“I’m entirely too young to understand that cultural reference.”

“Oh… okay,” he said sarcastically. “So, what’s the deal? Why is our match-made-in-heaven going to hell?” He grinned, but there was a sort of sadness behind it.

I shook my head and looked down at the table. “It’s so stupid,” I said under my breath.

He sat up straighter. “Is it my table manners? Because I’ve had complaints before, but I can work on it.” He put his elbow on the table and reached for his wineglass, winking at me.

I smiled. “No. It isn’t your table manners—although they are atrocious. It’s just that I dated this kid this summer—”

He put his hand up. “Wait. Kid?”

“Yeah. Kid. He’s twenty-six years old. Well, I guess twenty-seven now. It was supposed to be a summer fling, my fun rebound after Greg before I got back in the saddle for real again. Only…”

“Only it turned out to be more than a summer fling.”

I nodded. Then I said out loud what I wouldn’t let myself admit all this time. “If I’m honest with myself, I think I’m in love with him.”

“That’s great, Gray. Love is kind of the endgame, right?” Price wiped his mouth and smiled. “I mean, it sucks for me because I’m in love with you, but I’m a big boy.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are not in love with me.” I paused. “I haven’t told you the worst part yet.”

“What’s the worst part?”

“His job.”

He grinned again. “Ooooh. Let me guess. Bartender?”

I shook my head.

“Male stripper.”

I gave him a get serious look.

“Okay. I give up.”

“Tennis pro.”

I thought wine was going to fly right out of his nose.

“Oh no, Gray. That is the worst. Cougar divorcée sleeping with the twentysomething tennis pro.”

I held my head in mock shame. “I know.” Then I looked up at him and smiled. “It’s a cliché for a reason.” Then I brightened. “Wait! I have the perfect person for you to go out with.”

“Who?”

“My best friend. She’s the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen in real life, she has never been married, she has no kids, she’s younger than I am.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Good Lord. I should hope she’s younger than you.” Price was well aware of my almost-thirty-five panic.

We both laughed. I almost decided to take it back. I mean, here was a man who was exactly everything I thought I wanted. And I was going to give him away? But this was my best friend. She was light and fun and free, he was light and fun and free, and they both thought the world subsisted on even numbers.

“Her name is Marcy,” I said.

“So why isn’t gorgeous, childless Marcy married?”

I shrugged. “She has always been pretty wild, but she’s ready to settle down now.”

He nodded. “What does she do?”

“She’s a therapist,” I whispered.

“No,” he said emphatically. “No, no, no.”

I laughed. “At least go out with her. She’s not like that. She doesn’t analyze you or anything.”

He sighed. “I knew I should have taken you to Nantucket. But I was afraid it was too far away, and you would say no.”

I laughed. “You’re so adorable.”

“But not as adorable as Andrew.”

I shrugged. Andrew was pretty damn adorable. “Well, on the bright side, I may be Gray, but, trust me, Marcy is way more Fifty Shades.”

Price took my hand across the table and squeezed it. “In all seriousness, I hope you find your happiness. I only hate that we couldn’t give this thing a real shot.”

“I just know that ten years from now, we’d be in Martha’s Vineyard with our beautiful blended family, and I’d be smiling and kissing you, but on the inside, I’d be thinking about him.”

He nodded. “Then I wish you well.”

We sat there for a second, and I was happy that the waiter came and broke our silence. This was the problem with breaking up with someone when you were on a trip together that wasn’t ending for another day. We ordered for each other, and he said, “Well, on the bright side, I do have one night to change your mind.”

I lifted my glass. “Here’s to that!”

The next morning, as Price opened the door of his Cirrus for me, I did a gut check. This was what I wanted, right? He was perfect husband material. But I had married husband material, and now I was divorced. If I ever got married again, I knew that being in love was entirely more important.

Price slid into the pilot’s seat of the tiny cockpit and leaned over, cupped my chin in his hand, and kissed me tenderly. I have to admit that, feeling his lips on mine, butterflies welled up in my stomach.

“I think you’re amazing,” he said. “But I know when to say good-bye. No one wants to be second choice.”

I shook my head. “It isn’t like that, Price. It’s just—”

“No,” he said, “I get it completely. I’m happy for you. I’m just sad for me.”

I was afraid that the flight home might be like the one I had taken not all that long ago with Greg. But it wasn’t. Price and I sat in companionable silence, and I realized that, even though I wanted to, I just didn’t feel that spark with him. We were two compatible people. We were great friends, and maybe this time around that’s what I should have been looking for. But I realized I still believed I deserved someone who looked at me with that fresh enthusiasm that could only come from new, young (or, in my case, young-ish) love; I still wanted to be with a man who could make me feel like I was ten thousand feet in the air.

As we pulled into my driveway a few hours later, I said, “Why don’t you come in for a drink?”

He hesitated, and I added, “I’m sure that Marcy is in there waiting to hear all about our weekend.”

Price put his hand on my back and led me up the stairs, and I wasn’t surprised at all to see Marcy, hair in a ponytail, tube socks up her ankles, legs stretched on my couch, reading a magazine.

She popped up when she heard the doorknob turn. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “I just came over to borrow this month’s Vogue.” She winked at me.

“Marcy, this is Price,” I said. “Price, Marcy.”

She gave him her most engaging smile.

“Marcy, I was telling Price all about you over dinner last night,” I said.

“Yeah,” he added. “And besides the whole therapist thing, you sound pretty great.” He grinned.

Marcy’s look turned to one of confusion as she glanced from Price to me. “Excuse us,” she said, pasting on a smile, and dragged me into the kitchen.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Are you giving him to me?”

I laughed. “He’s a man, not a scarf, Marcy. I can’t give him to you.”

She peeked through the doorway and whispered, “He is an Hermès scarf of a man.” She paused. “So what’s the no-go with you two?” Before I could answer, Marcy peeked around the corner at Price again. “Damn, he’s hot. What is it about him?”

“You can’t quite define it, right? Because he’s not all that classically handsome.”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’re nuts.”

“He’s perfect,” I said. “The perfect man, perfect husband material.”

She shrugged. “So again I ask, why…” She trailed off. “Oh. Andrew. This is about Andrew.” She did a little dance and said in a singsong whisper, “You love him, you want to have his babies, you want to eat whipped cream off of him when you’re an old lady!”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay. That’s enough. Why don’t you go out there and act charming to your new potential husband? Men like him don’t come around often.”

“Are you going to have babies with him?” she whispered.

I smiled.

“Oh my gosh, you are. I was right. You love him, and you’re going to marry him, and you’re going to have hot, tan, tennis-playing babies.” She put her hand in the air. “Up top, sister. I have a feeling this is going to be a very good year for both of us.”

I sat down on one of the barstools after I kissed Price’s cheek and told Marcy good-bye.

And I thought of Andrew. Part of me wanted to run to him right now, wanted to tell him I had changed my mind. But delayed gratification was the definition of adulthood, right? He was so cute. He was just a kid. He wasn’t that great on paper. But in my heart, Andrew was absolutely perfect.

diana: a perfect day

As the warm air was starting to get chilly—and I was starting to get less nauseated—I couldn’t stop staring at my protruding belly.

“Hey, babe?” Frank called from downstairs. I was supposed to be eating breakfast with him.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to be here when your brother gets here?”

My brother. My Frank. What a perfect, perfect day. “Of course I do! He’ll love to see you.”

I heard footsteps up the stairs, and it wasn’t long before Frank was behind me, kissing my neck, his hands rubbing my bare belly. “Damn, pregnant looks good on you,” he said. “Are we going to tell him?”

I smiled and nodded. “Thirteen weeks, and all is well. I might not start telling random people yet, but I think it’s fine to tell him.” Frank knew how worried I was about this pregnancy. I knew the pregnancy was at higher risk for complications, that there was a higher chance that something could be wrong with the baby, that I was at a greater risk for a laundry list of problems and even death. But I couldn’t dwell on that. I had to move forward.

I had already told Phillip at our visit the week before, and he had smiled so big and even put his hand on my belly. Every time I thought of it, I burst into tears. He understood.

It was like Frank was inside my head when he said, “Do you want to see if we can find somewhere else for Phillip?”

“Where, like here?”

He shook his head and sat down on the end of our bed. “Babe, look. I don’t want to focus on this, but you are in the middle of a high-risk pregnancy. And you know how hard a change like that will be on Phillip, how much it will disrupt him.…”

I wanted to argue, but I knew more than anyone that he was right.

“Maybe we should start by trying to find a place where we can get him more personalized care,” Frank said.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to move him more than we need to. I want his next move to be permanent.”

I slid an empire-waist dress over my head. I couldn’t wait to look full-on pregnant.

“Okay, then. Yeah. You’re right. We’ll do everything we can from where he is now, and then when the time is right, we’ll move him in here with us.”

I smiled. “Really?”

He nodded. “Of course. He’s your brother.”

I kissed Frank right as the doorbell rang. “He’s here! He’s here!”

Throwing open the door, I hugged Charles so tight I hardly even noticed the woman standing right behind him on the front porch. I was getting ready to blurt out all about the baby, and I was kind of irritated that he had brought someone with him so I couldn’t. I pulled away and smiled at the woman. Her face seemed familiar. I was about to introduce myself when she said, “Diana.”

Her voice came rushing back, and I swear I lost my mind for a minute. “No!” I screamed. I slammed the front door and walked out the back.

“Diana,” Frank called. I heard the front door open, but it didn’t matter. I was getting the hell out of there. As I bolted out the back and down the steps into the detached garage, I realized I didn’t have any car keys. And surely they were in the house by now, so it wasn’t like I could go back. But Gray’s was only a couple miles away, so I started walking. I expected them to come after me, but they didn’t. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help but think about all those other times I’d been alone before—and worry that nothing much had changed.