“By the time you finish telling me what you’re going to do, I’ll be late for work. Why don’t we meet at the inn for dinner tonight and you can tell me over a glass of wine all that you accomplished.”
“I guess. I’ll come home and pick up my cell phone before meeting you there. That way I’ll be sure to have a fully charged phone with me at all times.” Susan carefully plugged both ends of the charger into the correct outlets.
“Good thinking.”
“See you tonight then,” Susan said, starting for the door.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“No. I have your cell phone and my Clié. Turn the answering machine on when you leave and I’ll check when I come home. I think I’m fine.”
“I thought you were going to walk Clue first thing.” Jed was grinning.
Susan stopped and looked at the dog, now lying in the middle of the bed, eyes closed. “I almost forgot!” She laughed. “Come on, Clue. Let’s hit the road.”
The restaurant was out of her favorite orange popovers. “I guess I’ll have the buckwheat waffle with fresh fruit,” Susan told the waiter.
“And I’ll have the feta and spinach omelet with grapefruit juice,” Kathleen said. As soon as they were alone again, she leaned across the table to continue their discussion. “So, why do you think the baby is a girl?”
“I was talking with Chrissy on the phone recently… a few days ago… well, yesterday afternoon actually-”
“I know. Jed told Jerry that you were calling daily… and I would too, if I was about to become a grandmother at any minute,” Kathleen assured her friend. “Did you have some sort of premonition or did Chrissy say something that convinced you she knows the sex of her baby?”
“It was something Chrissy said. I was talking about the blanket that I knit for her when she was born-you know, telling her that I was having it cleaned and would bring it along when we went down there-and she asked if it was pink.”
“And?”
“That’s it. She asked if it was pink. Now why would she do that if she didn’t want a pink blanket for a baby girl?”
“Because she didn’t want pink for a baby boy?” Kathleen suggested.
Susan frowned. “I suppose that could be it.”
“Are you going to be terribly disappointed if it’s a boy?’
“No! Of course not! I’d just like to know. It was impossible to find out the sex of the baby when I was pregnant, but now things are different. You knew the sex of both your kids before they were born. It didn’t make the birth one bit less important, did it?”
“No, but I really wanted to know. If Chrissy and Stephen don’t-”
“I know. I know. I’m just obsessing about all this because… well, I’m not really sure why in fact.”
“Are you concerned about being a grandmother? You know, getting old?”
“Hey, are you a grandmother?” their waiter asked, reappearing with their juice.
“Almost. Do I look like one?” Susan asked modestly.
He shrugged. “You don’t look like my grandmother. She’s really young. Do you ladies want more coffee?”
“I think we’re fine. But perhaps you could check on our meals? We have a lot to do today,” Kathleen said.
“And some of us don’t get around as quickly as we did when we were younger,” Susan added.
Despite Susan’s comment, she and Kathleen got around just fine. Susan arrived home with the back of her Cherokee completely filled with various items for the baby. The two pairs of shoes and six mystery novels she had bought for herself were lying on the seat beside her purse. As she pulled into the driveway, Jed appeared at the front door, a wide smile on his face. She slammed on the brake and, heart beating rapidly, ran up the walkway to her house.
TWO
THEY WERE BEAUTIFUL.
“They’re the most beautiful babies in the nursery.” The speaker was male.
“They’re the most beautiful babies in the world,” replied a female voice.
Susan and Jed pulled themselves away from their enchanting view into the newborn nursery and turned to see who was reading their minds. They found themselves face-to-face with their daughter’s in-laws.
“Blues!”
“Susan!”
“Rhythm!”
“Jed!”
The four grandparents hugged, turned back to admire their gorgeous grandchildren, and then, laughing, hugged again.
“Isn’t it amazing how much more alert they seem than the other babies?” Susan said.
“And they have much more hair,” Robert Canfield said. Better known as Rhythm, he had not quite recovered from growing up in the Sixties and was, Susan thought, inordinately proud of his own shoulder-length hair.
“Look at those pretty pink cheeks!” Susan said.
“Yes, their color is excellent,” Blues (also known as Barbara) agreed. “I sent Chrissy some of my special compounded vitamins. They’re entirely herbal-nothing unnatural and not yet available commercially-and they do seem to have made such a difference. The other babies are absolutely peaked.”
Susan, who knew that Chrissy had tossed Blues’s vitamins into the garbage and continued to take what her obstetrician had prescribed, didn’t argue about the twins’ appearance. “They certainly seem to be healthy.”
“And Chrissy looks wonderful!” Blues added.
“Oh, when did you see her?” Susan asked immediately.
“This morning,” Rhythm answered. “One thing about the red-eye from California -you get in early. We made it to the hospital by seven. Chrissy was still asleep-”
“And we were careful not to wake her up. We left a small present and a note on the table beside her bed and tiptoed right out of the room,” Blues added. “But she did look wonderful. Stephen says she came through the birth like a real trouper. I don’t know about you, but I can’t imagine having two babies at once.”
“How did you get in? We tried to see her and the nurse at the front desk in the maternity ward said visiting hours didn’t start until eleven,” Susan said, ignoring Blues’s comment.
“Oh, Rhythm and I didn’t stop at the desk. We just walked in as though we knew what we were doing and no one bothered us. We find that usually works in hospitals,” Stephen’s mother replied.
Susan turned to her husband. “We should have tried that.”
But Jed wasn’t paying attention. He was tapping on the glass and wiggling his fingers at his grandson. “Look, he’s waving back at me.”
“And he’s smiling,” Rhythm added, imitating Jed’s moves.
Susan and Blues exchanged amused glances. “Gas,” Susan whispered.
Blues nodded, grinning. “Not that he’s not a remarkable child. You know, he looks just like Stephen when he was born. He was so happy. We called him our little beam of sunshine.”
Susan, who had been about to express her belief that this baby was the spitting image of her own son when he was a newborn, smiled.
“Susan’s been looking at old baby photos for the past few months and it seems to me that the girl looks like Chrissy when she was a baby,” Jed said, still waving and tapping.
“Excuse me. Are you incapable of reading the sign, sir? It is printed in clear English. But perhaps you need someone to interpret it for you.” A short, overweight woman wearing flowery scrubs stood behind them, her hands on her ample hips and an angry expression on her florid face.