It Started in June Read online

  This mind-set cast a pall over the Taylor household. There was little laughter. There were no games. And there was absolutely no tolerance for anything one might consider fun. Grace was expected to keep her room as tidy as the rest of the house, which Robin and Laurie scrubbed, vacuumed, and dusted weekly. When Grace turned ten, she was deemed responsible enough to help her mother and grandmother with the routine cleaning and would be chastised if her efforts were not as thorough as those of her elders. As Grace moved into middle school, she spent whatever spare time she had reading in her room. She was not allowed to attend social functions, which hardly mattered because she had no friends.

  By the time she got to high school, she started to formulate a plan to escape. It did not hinge on the strength of bedsheets tied tightly together and draped over the windowsill at midnight; it was an academic plan. What Grace had learned from her high school guidance counselor was that if she continued to work as hard as she had and continued to get the very good grades that already populated her transcript, she might, as an economically disadvantaged student, win a scholarship to attend a college or university either nearby or far away. It was Grace’s goal to go far away. To this end, she wrote and rewrote English term papers, lab reports, and social studies essays, earning A’s and, eventually, a full ride to Georgetown, as well as the honor of speaking at her high school graduation as class valedictorian. Her mother and grandparents, dressed in their Sunday best, attended her graduation and sat in the front row, enormously pleased with how Grace’s achievement reflected on their labored efforts at raising her. At last, they told one another, some recognition of our work in the name of the Lord. Praise God!

  That night, there was a celebration of sorts, in that Laurie and Robin roasted a chicken and baked a cake, and Rick handed Grace an envelope with five hundred dollars in cash and the keys to a used Ford. They had no idea what her plans were for the next eight weeks before the semester at Georgetown started, but they expected her to pack whatever it was she wanted to take of her sparse belongings into the trunk of her car and drive away. As far as they were concerned, their job was done. They told her to write to them, if she was so inclined, and they wished her well, congratulating themselves afterward for their generosity of spirit.

  Since tears were not tolerated in the Taylor household, Grace excused herself from the dinner table that night and went to her room. She closed the door behind her, dropped to her knees, and wept for herself; for the fact that she had never felt loved, for the banishment from the only family she had ever known, for the fear that the unknown could be worse than the known. She pulled herself up off the floor and immediately started packing, putting her clothes into one duffel bag and her books into another. As soon as her mother and grandparents had gone to bed, she hoisted the bags onto her shoulders and walked down the stairs and out of the house. When she drove down the driveway, Rick, who had heard her on the stairs but decided he had already said his goodbye, turned over in bed and went back to sleep.

  * * *

  Grace swallowed her last bite of toast and sat back in her chair. The sun whitened the surface of the water; Grace removed her sunglasses and squinted at the brightness. She had found a waitressing job in Washington, DC, that summer after her graduation from high school. She had graduated with high honors from Georgetown. She had moved to Connecticut for a job that paid more than she thought she was worth—all without the help of her family. She had, along the way, written postcards to her mother, mostly when she was feeling alone or vulnerable and only because she knew her mother brought in the Taylor household mail. Grace heard back from her mother just twice, when Robin moved out of her parents’ house, and when she graduated from the local community college. Robin had never invited Grace to her new place, and Grace had never asked. Years later, they reunited, very briefly, on the day Grace and Kenny got married. And Grace had not seen or heard from her since.

  CHAPTER 14

  Grace e-mailed Paul early Monday morning, requesting the week off for vacation. She apologized for being so last-minute and assured him that she would be able to keep up with urgent e-mail, as well as meet the deadlines already in place. He replied that he was pleased she was actually taking a vacation and told her to do what she never did: relax. She also e-mailed Bradley, telling him she was taking the week off and asking him, as they had agreed, to use this time to think about their situation.

  Because she was tired, she slept a lot. She called her gynecologist and booked an appointment for the following week, after telling the doctor she was pregnant and asking about morning sickness. Using Grace’s timeline, the doctor calculated that Grace was five weeks pregnant. If she was lucky, she’d be through the worst of it in another month or so. But the doctor said some of her patients had alleviated their symptoms by wearing an acupressure band and nibbling on fresh ginger throughout the morning. Thinking almost anything was worth a try, Grace purchased both. By Friday, she was venturing out of her house, away from her bucket, for short walks, and food was staying in her stomach.

  * * *

  On Saturday night, Shannon came to her house to watch a movie. Shannon arrived late, as was her custom, carrying a DVD from the grocery store’s Redbox, a vanilla milkshake for Grace, and a bottle of sauvignon blanc for herself. And, like the good friend she was, Shannon bypassed the pleasantries and got down to the business of finishing the conversation they had started the previous night on the phone, which Grace had ended by hanging up on her. This was something about Grace that bothered Shannon; she ended discussions as soon as she became uncomfortable, which was usually when Shannon was asking her to explain further her actions or decisions. Grace enjoyed analyzing esoteric or philosophical questions, but when it came to conversations about her actual life, she dictated the tone and duration of the discussion.

  “We’re going to have to go through this one more time,” said Shannon, handing the milkshake to Grace and then flip-flopping into the kitchen for a corkscrew. She set the bottle down on the countertop. “What I got from our conversation last night is that you’re thinking about keeping the baby, out of a misguided—”

  “Hey,” said Grace.

  Shannon put up her hand. “Hear me out. I listened to you last night, and now you need to listen to me. You’re thinking about keeping the baby, even though you’ve never wanted children, out of a misguided sense of justice. And, on top of this, you’re entertaining the idea that the sex you had in the back of your car with a coworker you barely know is reason enough to ask him to actually parent the child with you.”

  Grace focused her attention on her milkshake. “God, that is good,” she said.

  Shannon reached into the kitchen cupboard for a wineglass and poured a quarter of the bottle into it.

  “Taking the express train tonight, I see,” said Grace, looking over at Shannon’s glass.

  “Don’t get all judgmental on me now that you can’t drink,” said Shannon. She took a big sip and then walked back to the couch and sat next to Grace.

  Grace gave her a side-eye look. “Are we even going to watch the movie?”

  “Yes, we’re going to watch,” said Shannon, “right after we make more headway on the conversation in progress.”

  “Okay, yes then,” said Grace. “Yes to everything you said.”

  “Even though it makes absolutely no sense?”

  Grace looked over at her friend. “I know,” she said. “I know it makes no sense. But it somehow seems like the right thing to do.”

  “Right in what way, Grace?”

  “It feels right for this time in my life, considering what I’ve been through and where I am now. What am I going to do with the rest of my life, Shannon, work myself to death at the office and date losers?”

  “Meaning doing what I’m doing?”

  “Number one, you’re dating a really nice guy right now. Todd is definitely not a loser. And number two, we can analyze your life right after we figure out mine.”

  “Fine,” said Shannon. “S
o, last night—before you hung up on me—I asked you why you think having this baby will right a wrong, and I asked you why you want someone you barely know to help you raise the baby. And tonight you are telling me that you’re going through some kind of identity crisis on top of everything else?”

  “I need some support here, Shannon. It doesn’t help that you’re questioning my decision.”

  “But your decision makes no sense, Grace! You have never wanted children, and now, apparently, you do. And you want to live with a guy you barely know. And I’m not understanding this new feeling thing going on with you, Grace. You’re a thinking person, not a feeling person.”

  Grace picked up her milkshake and took another pull on the straw. “I’m a feeling person now, Shannon, because it feels right to keep this baby, and it feels right to ask Bradley to be the father. But you seem to think it’s wrong. Why is it so wrong to have a change of heart?”

  Shannon walked to the kitchen to refill her wineglass. “Look,” she said, “I know you like Bradley. You say he’s been nothing but sweet and kind to you. You tell me he’s playful and relaxed. And I agree that you could use a little levity in your life. But he’s thirty years old, Grace. He’s not fully formed. He’s immature. Are you in love? No, I don’t think so. Do you have a giant crush? Yes, I think you do. Of course this prompts the question of whether or not this crush will turn into love.”

  “Do you think it will?”

  “I don’t know, Grace. Do you think it will?”

  “He’s definitely got potential.”

  “I don’t think that’s good enough—not for the situation you’re in and the decision you’re making.”

  “Is it ever good enough, Shannon? When I married Kenny, I loved him more than I thought possible. And four years later, we were divorced. What about arranged marriages? The bride and groom barely know each other, and yet they sometimes have a lifetime of happiness.”

  Shannon returned to the couch and sat down. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that even though I deeply loved Kenny, it wasn’t enough to hold us together. And I’m talking about the fact that strangers who marry sometimes find love. I’m right in between these two extremes in my relationship with Bradley. We may not be soul mates, but we’re not strangers, either. So, the way I see it is that we have just as good a chance of making it as anyone else.”

  “Meaning you want to marry him?”

  “No,” said Grace. “I simply want to give him a chance to raise our baby with me.”

  “Then you need to tell him that this is what you want.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you don’t tell him you want him in your life and you want him to raise this baby with you, he won’t do it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Stand in his shoes for one second, Grace. If you were him, what would you do?”

  * * *

  She called Bradley on Sunday night. He looked at his phone, saw it was Grace, and didn’t pick up. He had just talked with his parents, as he had several times that week because he was, as his mother described it, in crisis. In each conversation, Dorrie had questioned him, as had Bruce in a less ardent way, about his readiness to be a father, to make the kind of sacrifices needed. And after each conversation, Bradley’s doubt took firmer hold. Their words, which had been running through Bradley’s brain all week, chipped away at his tenuous sense of adulthood and his willingness to trust his gut.

  He had just started picturing his life without Grace when she called. He got up from his couch and walked to the fridge for a beer. He took a sip and called her back, resolved to tell her he couldn’t make the commitment. As soon as she answered the phone, as soon as he heard her voice, his resolve crumbled.

  “How are you doing?” she asked.

  “First, let me ask how you’re doing,” Bradley said. “Any better?”

  “Yes, definitely better. I’m wearing a seasickness band and eating ginger, and it seems to be working.”

  “Good,” said Bradley.

  They were both quiet.

  Grace switched gears. “Tell me about work. What have I missed this week?”

  Now that they were off the topic of the pregnancy, Bradley opened up, telling Grace about the progress he had made on the museum account, as well as about everything else he had worked on that week. He told her about the office picnic that had been held at Station Park, where she and he had eaten lunch that day, and how everyone had seemed much more relaxed out of the office. “We missed you,” he said. And then, realizing how corporate that sounded, he said, “I missed you.”

  “This is hard, isn’t it?” asked Grace.

  “Yes,” he said. “But I don’t know why it’s so hard.”

  “I guess it’s because we’re facing—well, you’re facing—a big decision. I’ve already made my big decision, which is to keep the baby. And now you have to make your big decision.”

  “And my big decision is whether or not I want to be a part of it.”

  “Yes,” said Grace.

  Bradley closed his eyes for a moment, wondering if he should say what he was thinking about saying. And then he said it. “My parents don’t want me to do this. I realize it’s not fair because they don’t know you. But they think the circumstances don’t warrant the commitment—for either of us. They think, Grace, that you should have an abortion.”

  Grace inhaled audibly. “What do you want, Bradley? I understand your parents’ opinion, but I am much more interested in your opinion. They will not be the ones raising this child, Bradley. This is your decision, not theirs.”

  Bradley knew Grace was right, that the decision to stay or go was his decision and not his parents’. At thirty, he still struggled with independence. He was able to sustain himself financially, but he was too dependent on his parents emotionally. He didn’t know how to break the connection without hurting them as well as feeling inadequate to navigate life’s challenges on his own. “You’re right,” he said.

  Grace swallowed. “Look, I’d probably have the same opinion as your parents if I’d come into the world like you did, expected and loved. When you’re raised without affection, Bradley, it changes everything. I did not have it. This is my chance to right that wrong.”

  The nobleness of Grace’s statement resonated with Bradley. He was struck by its selflessness, especially since he had done basically nothing in his life to right a wrong. He had been, until he met Grace, completely absorbed with making his life right. He didn’t know how to respond, other than to say something like, “Bravo!,” which was, he knew, wildly inappropriate.

  She responded to his prolonged silence with words. “I’ll be back in the office tomorrow,” she said. “Let’s talk then.”

  CHAPTER 15

  On Monday morning, Bradley was at his desk at 8 a.m. This was unusual for him; he typically hurried into the office after the appointed arrival time of 9 a.m., hair wet from a recent shower, his briefcase in one hand and a large cup of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee in the other. He was an early riser, up and out of bed by 7 a.m. But he ran four miles every day, followed by a long shower and a quick breakfast, eaten while skimming the headlines of the newspaper on his phone. The swift pace at which the early morning hours passed continuously caught Bradley by surprise. Four days out of five, he was late to work.

  Not today. He wanted to be there when Grace arrived, so they could have time together before their colleagues showed up and the demands of meetings and e-mails and phone calls would pull them in different directions. He booted up his computer and scrolled through his e-mails without reading any of them. He opened and then shut several manila folders on his desktop, quickly discovering that he could concentrate on nothing until he saw Grace. And so he was relieved when he heard someone coming in the front door. He looked at his watch. Because it was 8:10 a.m., it could be only Grace or Paul, and he was betting on Grace. Bradley wheeled his chair back, allowing him an unobstructed view of her glass
office at the end of the short hallway. He didn’t stand up. He didn’t move. He wanted to see her before he talked to her.

  She appeared, dressed in silky beige pants and a pale pink blouse. She looked gorgeous, her cheeks glowing and her hair gathered into a soft bun at the base of her neck. She stopped when she reached her locked door and set her briefcase down on the carpeting. She turned around and, eyes closed, rested her back against the door. Bradley stayed put, mesmerized by her posture, by her presence. Two deep breaths later, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. Bradley unconsciously held his breath, until he could see the corners of her mouth lift into a graceful, sincere, beatific smile. It was the kind of look given to a lover. In an instant, his mouth mirrored hers. And they stayed this way for a half minute, until Bradley finally started walking toward her, saying, “Grace, I’m so glad to see you.” When he reached her he gently pulled her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and looked into his eyes.

  “I’m glad to know you’re glad,” she said, smiling again. “Do you have a minute to come in and sit down?”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  They walked into her office and shut the door behind them. “You look good, Grace, you look rested,” he said. “And I’m happy you’re feeling better.”

  “Me too. I felt a bit woozy for a minute there, but it passed.” She sat down at her desk and Bradley sat across from her, noticing that their powerful connection from the hallway had already diminished. She opened her e-mail and clicked open the most recent arrival, allowing Bradley a moment to look out Grace’s office window. Twenty seconds passed, and then their eyes found each other’s at the same time.

  “It’s hard to know where to start,” said Grace.

  “Yes,” said Bradley, nodding. “Yes, it is.”

  Just then, Paul pushed open Grace’s glass door and stood before them. Bradley jumped to his feet, as if sitting were a crime. Grace shifted her gaze to Paul’s face. “This is what I like to see,” he said. “Grace back in the office and Bradley here before noon.” He laughed at his remark, prompting Grace and Bradley to do the same. “Grace, how are you? Did you have a nice week off?”