It Started in June Page 12

  On the way back to the office, coffees in hand, they talked more about running. Rachel told him she used the high school track, where she and several other runners gathered for a different workout each day of the week. The only things that remained the same day to day were the stretching exercises at the beginning and end of their seventy-five-minute sessions. After Bradley described his runs through the city streets, Rachel offered him a sympathetic smile. “I used to run like that too,” she said, “until I nearly died of boredom. Doing a different workout every day is so refreshing compared with pounding the pavement. You should come join us sometime.”

  After giving Rachel a tour of the office and introducing her to everyone who was sitting at a desk, Bradley deposited her at Patty’s cubicle and told her to talk to Philip when she was done. After that, he said, he’d take her out for lunch.

  * * *

  After leaving Rachel with Patty, Bradley walked back to his office, smiling to himself. Rachel was the kind of woman he had dated for years. If asked to describe them, the women he had pursued before deleting the dating apps from his phone, Bradley would have said that they were, in general, pretty, smart, and bold. He, like a lot of men, had been drawn to straight-talking, hard-shelled women because of their boldness, thinking they would be as audacious in bed as they were in the bar, or in the coffee shop, or wherever they met. In some cases, this had been true. But usually the sex had an almost robotic, performance-driven quality to it. And their conversational boldness soon devolved into sheer bossiness, their straight talk into just talk—and lots of it.

  Plus, Rachel, like the women he had dated, was in her twenties. Twenty-six, she was at that magical age that women start to think about getting married, or at least to focus on dating the guys whom they would one day marry. There was nothing wrong with this. Bradley, too, wanted to get married. But guys were less desperate about it. Even the women who professed or pretended to have plenty of time were secretly obsessed with the clock, Bradley thought, especially if they planned on having children. Their initial easygoing manner about the relationship quickly shifted to a subtle and then blatant pushiness toward being a couple, toward Bradley eradicating contact with his single guy friends. Within weeks, these women were scheduling Bradley’s free time with what they called play dates, or day dates, and evening dates with other couples. How many dates had Bradley been on, a thousand? His mother had, just the other night on their weekly phone call, called him jaded. Maybe she was right. At thirty, Bradley was definitely growing more cynical about the world and its inhabitants.

  * * *

  In the ten minutes it took Bradley to assess and dismiss Rachel as someone who wouldn’t hold his attention for more than two dates, Rachel had come to the conclusion that he was exactly the kind of guy she could settle down with. And that if he were that kind of guy, then why not make him the guy? Aware of the effect her looks and charm had on men, Rachel knew she had a chance with Bradley, that he was not out of her league. Her league was fairly sizable since there were only three kinds of guys she wouldn’t consider.

  The first was the married man. Since Rachel wanted to get married, and believed in long-term monogamous relationships, she didn’t go after men who were already bound by a legal contract, even if their marriage was in trouble, even if they ardently pursued her. No matter how attractive the guy was, Rachel was not interested in breaking up a marriage to win him. The second off-limits man was anyone currently younger than twenty-five, as she’d consider dating a guy one year her junior, but that was as low as she’d go. The guys in their early twenties were babies, needing a mother more than a girlfriend. And the third kind of guy who was outside her boundary lines was the over-the-top, crazy-good-looking guy who, consequently, knew he was that hot. She’d dated one of them—really, just to see if she could—and she had been very disappointed, not only in his lack of interest in anything outside of his own head, but also in his inability to grasp even the simplest of concepts, like being at a restaurant for a dinner date at the appointed time. Bradley’s looks put him dangerously close to inclusion in this final category, but his apparent lack of self-absorption made him fair game.

  * * *

  Just before noon Rachel was done with her orientation and hungry for lunch. She found Bradley sitting at his desk on a chair that was not a ball and talking on the phone. He wheeled around to face her when she tapped him on the shoulder and held up his finger, signaling her to wait. In the minute it took Bradley to wrap up his conversation, Rachel had retrieved her cape from the coat closet, as well as Bradley’s overcoat.

  “Thanks,” he said, shrugging the coat onto his shoulders. “Let’s take my car. The place I have in mind is only a mile or so away, but it’s cold out there. Do you eat Italian food? Elani makes her own pasta.”

  “Love it,” said Rachel, noting that he was the perfect height to complement her five-foot, six-inch frame. “I make a pretty mean spinach fettuccini myself.”

  “With Alfredo sauce, I hope,” said Bradley, walking toward the central hallway. “God, I could eat enough right now for a family of four.”

  Rachel laughed as she fell into step behind him. “But then you’d pass out afterward, right? A big bowl of pasta at lunch has the same effect on me as a double martini.”

  Bradley grinned. “Let’s split something or we’ll both be out of a job for sleeping at our desks.”

  “Perfect,” said Rachel.

  Their lunch together was pleasant enough. They split an order of cheese ravioli with marinara sauce and a small salad. He was attentive as she talked about her family—she was the oldest of six children—and her career ambitions—to have her own agency by the time she was thirty-five, in addition to having a family. He deflected her questions about his life, instead redirecting the focus of the conversation back to her. So Rachel talked to fill the void, thinking it wouldn’t take long to get Bradley to reveal more about himself and his life to her.

  But she had been wrong. Bradley was pleasant to her, always saying hello in the morning and goodbye in the evening if they bumped into each other, but offering little more. She had cut back on her casual visits to his cubicle because lately he’d barely even looked up from his computer, indicating that he was busy. Rachel had not been shunned by a man since college—she’d always been the one to end the relationships she’d had since graduation—and she was both frustrated by Bradley’s indifference and determined to find a way to win him.

  And so she was deeply hurt as well as shocked by the news of Grace’s pregnancy. Rachel was proud of her ability to pick up on whatever vibe existed between two people, and she had sensed nothing between Bradley and Grace. She had never seen them together except at meetings, and at those meetings they had been professional and courteous to each other, as well as to everyone else in the room. She’d witnessed no winks, nods, smiles, lingering looks, exaggerated laughter, secret touches—nothing—between them. Rachel had studied all of the women in the office and their relationships with Bradley, and Grace hadn’t even made Rachel’s list of possible rivals, because she was old.

  She could see why Grace would be interested in Bradley, of course; most of the women in the office were. There were other good-looking men at work, but some of them were already married and none of them was as magnetic as Bradley. Paul had one time looked at her like he wanted to unzip her dress. But that had happened at an office barbecue early in the summer, after he’d had a few beers. The alcohol had made him flirtatious, she guessed, and so she’d chatted him up, and, with her eyes, given him permission to speculate about what was underneath her short sundress. But the following day, it had been business as usual for both of them. Plus, pursuing married men, like Paul, was one of Rachel’s don’ts.

  Rachel wondered how Bradley could be interested in Grace, how he could be sexually attracted to her. Sure, she was pretty enough. And she had a sort of ice-queen quality that a lot of men found alluring. But she was definitely old, at least forty. The guys Rachel knew typically li
ked to date younger women, women who could be shaped and controlled, who were still naïve enough to want to please their older man domestically as well as sexually, to make them gourmet meals, purchase luxury bed linens, soften the hard edges of their stressful lives. Grace would not be doing any of that for Bradley, would she? Maybe it was a role reversal thing. Maybe Bradley liked doing all that stuff for her.

  Rachel’s musings ceased when a new thought popped into her head: They’re pregnant, not married! What this meant was that Bradley was still, essentially, free. He could decide at any time that he no longer wanted to be with Grace and quickly walk away from the relationship. Because Grace had just announced her pregnancy, Rachel decided she would step back for a while. And then step back in as soon as she saw an opening, as soon as Bradley started to feel the pressure of what being a dad really meant, or grew dissatisfied dating someone so much older. Rachel would wait for as long as he needed to see that she and he were the perfect couple.

  CHAPTER 24

  “Your e-mail was perfect,” said Bradley. They were sitting in his apartment, eating the pasta, salad, and garlic bread he’d picked up on the way home. They were both drinking Pellegrino, and Bradley was feeling pretty noble about abstaining from drinking the white wine in the fridge that would be the ideal pairing for the Alfredo sauce. This was the second time he had said these words to Grace, who had spent the last five minutes second-guessing what she’d said to Paul, what she’d failed to include in the e-mail, and how she’d reacted to people coming into her office to offer congratulations. “You’re doubting yourself because this is unchartered territory for you, for both of us. One of the hardest things about an unplanned pregnancy is telling people about it. And you did that today. My parents know. Shannon knows. Now everyone at the office knows. We’re covered.”

  “How about your friends?”

  “Kevin knows,” said Bradley. “I’ll tell the rest of them this weekend. A bunch of us are going hiking and camping. Once I tell this core group, the word will spread quickly. Everyone who needs or wants to know, as well as those who couldn’t care less, will know soon.” He smiled at her. “Do you want to come along?”

  “What did Kevin think?”

  “He’s processing the news.”

  “Meaning he was shocked and thinks I should have an abortion,” said Grace.

  “Grace,” said Bradley. “This is not your everyday, run-of-the-mill kind of news. People need time to think about it.”

  “But aren’t most people happy for a couple when they announce they’re pregnant?”

  “Sure,” said Bradley, “when the couple has been trying to get pregnant. This came as a surprise to you and me. I understand that other people are surprised, too.”

  “But they’re not surprised in a good way.”

  “Be patient, Grace. You need to be patient.”

  She gave him a skeptical look. “You’re sounding very grown-up right now.”

  “I can be very grown-up when I want to be.”

  She laughed and said, “Which is hardly ever!”

  He rose from his chair and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. “Come with us this weekend,” he said.

  “I’m going to pass on the hike with your college friends.”

  Bradley settled back into his seat and picked up his fork. “You’ll need to meet them at some point.”

  “I know,” she said. “And I’m looking forward to it. From what you’ve told me, they’re great people. But I need to do this one step at a time. Today was a big step. And now that I’m over the nausea, I want to get some things done around the house this weekend. I may even go for a bike ride.”

  Bradley’s slight smile dropped. “Is that okay for the baby?”

  “Yes,” said Grace. “I checked in with my doctor. As long as I take it easy, it’s fine for the baby. When I get bigger, I’ll put the bike away for a while and just walk.”

  “Well, I’ll ride or walk with you anytime,” said Bradley. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to get back on my bike. I love running, but it’s nice to change it up.”

  “Riding with me will not be exercise, Bradley.”

  “Then we’ll have to get our exercise another way.”

  She smiled at him. “I know all about your favorite way to exercise.”

  “Because it’s your favorite, too.”

  “With you, it is.”

  Bradley stood and looked at Grace’s plate, half covered with pasta and salad. “Are you done?”

  “Oh yeah,” she said, standing and taking his hand.

  * * *

  Now that they had made this commitment to having the baby, Grace and Bradley spent more time with each other, two or three evenings during the week and most weekend days and nights. The weekend after Bradley’s hike, Grace met them, his closest friends from college who still lived in the city—Dan, Kevin, Jada, Hannah, and Isaac—at a gathering at Bradley’s apartment. They were outwardly welcoming and seemingly accepting of the pregnancy, with the exception of Jada, who was kind but cool—the way Grace would act if she met a friend’s new girlfriend who was pregnant—and judgmental in the way Dan, Hannah, Isaac, and especially Kevin were no doubt feeling underneath their pleasant demeanors, their easy laughter. Grace guessed that Jada was not able to pull off the charade either because she didn’t like Grace and was the type of person who practiced one hundred percent honesty and transparency, or because she had once had or still had feelings for Bradley.

  Bradley later confirmed that he and Jada had dated for a year in college and again a year after they graduated. They knew they were not right for each other, Bradley said, but they’d had difficulty in pinpointing why. They had many things in common, including a love for hiking, working in media relations (although Jada now worked for a nonprofit organization), an appetite for very cheesy pizza, and parents who were disappointed their children didn’t become doctors. She would come around, Bradley assured Grace, because no matter what Jada thought, she had always supported him.

  * * *

  Jada’s support included telling Bradley what she thought was best for him, which, as she expressed to him on the phone the Tuesday after Labor Day weekend, when they were both back in the office, was not fatherhood. “She’s lovely, Bradley,” said Jada. “But you barely know her. And making this kind of premature commitment isn’t like you. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

  Bradley had walked out of his cubicle and out the door to the back parking lot to take the call. “Do you think you feel this way because I didn’t want to commit to you?”

  She hesitated. “Of course I wanted you to commit to me,” she said. “But looking back on it now, I can see it wouldn’t have worked. We were too young. We weren’t ready. But are you ready now?”

  “Jada, we’re thirty years old.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means that if I’m not ready now, when am I going to be ready?”

  “Do we settle down with someone because we are at a certain age, or do we wait until we are deeply in love? You know very little about Grace, except that she’s pretty, she’s very good at her job, and she’s carrying your baby.”

  “I do know her, Jada. And I think I’m in love.”

  “Okay,” said Jada. “But are you ready to be a father?”

  Phone pressed to his ear, Bradley leaned against his car. “So you don’t support me in this.”

  Jada sighed into the phone. “I’d feel better about supporting you if I thought you were sure. And I don’t think you’re sure.”

  “Is anyone absolutely sure?”

  “Yes, Bradley, I think a lot of people are.”

  After they hung up, Bradley walked back into the office. He decided that he was about eighty percent sure. And that was definitely good enough, he told himself.

  * * *

  When Bradley met Shannon, she, too, had been cool at first. It wasn’t until their third meeting that Shannon began to view Bradley in a less hostile manner. He coul
d tell that she didn’t yet like him, but she no longer disliked him. “Tell me what the future looks like to you,” she said to Bradley the day of their third meeting, over sandwiches on Grace’s deck on a warm Saturday afternoon in late September.

  “Remarkably bright,” said Bradley.

  “How so?” she asked.

  “Let’s see,” he said, wiping mayonnaise from his mouth with a napkin. “Grace and I are months away from being parents, weeks away from moving in with each other, and seconds away from being in love.”

  “You are good,” said Grace, looking at Bradley.

  Shannon shook her head. “I can’t argue with that, Bradley. I’m coming around on you, whether I like it or not.”

  “Like it,” said Bradley. “Like it and like me because I like you.”

  “I guess I like you, too,” said Shannon, in an unconvincing tone. “But you had better stick to your word. Grace might let you off the hook, but I never would.”

  “Fret not, dear Shannon. I’m stuck on Grace.”

  Shannon reached for the bag of chips. “One more handful for the road,” she said, looking at Grace. “My mother gave me a gift certificate for a pedicure for my birthday, and today is the day.”

  Grace put one hand on Shannon’s arm and the other over her mouth. “I forgot your birthday,” she said. “I have never forgotten your birthday, in all the years we’ve known each other. I’m sorry.”

  “No worries,” said Shannon, standing. “You’ve had a lot on your mind.”

  “Come over for dinner tomorrow? I’ll make mushroom risotto for you.”

  “That sounds delicious,” said Bradley.

  Grace was still looking at Shannon. “Girls only,” she said.

  CHAPTER 25

  Carrying a bottle of red wine, Shannon opened Grace’s unlocked front door and walked into the living area. It had turned chilly overnight; Grace had closed the windows and lit the candles on her coffee table.