The Baby Chronicles. Judy Baer
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Much to my surprise, Kim turned around, gave Mitzi a munificent, approving smile and said, “Mitzi, for once I think you’re right.”
Mitzi nearly tripped and fell headfirst into the koi pond. “You agree with me?”
“Yes, I do,” Kim said firmly. “Today I think everyone is right.”
Even Mitzi? What had made Kim’s mood turn on a dime? Last I’d talked to her, her and Kurt’s negotiations over the baby issue had reached an impasse.
Mitzi regarded Kim suspiciously. Historically, Kim and Mitzi haven’t agreed on anything. So far, they haven’t even agreed to disagree.
After that, Mitzi couldn’t take her eyes off Kim. She observed her warily, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop or to find out what kind of joke Kim was playing on her. I ended up ordering spring rolls and chicken sticks, with three bowls of pho to follow, while Mitzi charily ferreted out clues as to why Kim might concur with her about anything.
Mitzi observed Kim guardedly until the appetizers came. Then she picked up a chicken stick, waved it in the air and demanded, “What’s going on with you?”
“Me?” Kim tried to look innocent, but her eyes were sparkling.
Then, as if she was simply too full to hold it in any longer, she blurted, “Kurt and I are going to have a baby!”
Mitzi, who had been drinking from her glass, turned into a human fire hydrant and spewed it across the table.
“Kim, are you kidding me?” I gasped. “For real? Are you sure?”
“It’s not exactly what you think, but…” Kim hugged herself with glee.
“How many ways can you be pregnant, silly?” I felt giddy with pleasure.
“I have to tell you what—”
“That’s just awful!”
Shocked, we both turned to stare at Mitzi. Her livid face was the color of an eggplant. “Just awful…” she muttered. “Why you?” Then, so softly that I almost missed it, she added, “Why not me?”
I was still unsure about what I’d just heard, but Referee Whitney came to the rescue. “Settle down, you two. Kim, you first. I thought Kurt was worried about having another child.”
“He was, but we settled that. We’re going to adopt!” She glowed incandescently. “I don’t know why we didn’t consider it initially. I want to love, nurture and raise another child. I want Wesley to have a brother or sister. Adopting is the perfect answer. We won’t be rushing into a pregnancy before the doctor gives me the go-ahead, we’ll get the baby we all want, and some child will get a loving home. We’ve been praying about it, and everything is falling into place. Kurt’s as excited as I am.”
“Adopt? You aren’t having one from—” Mitzi pointed to her flat belly “—here?”
“No, but I’m having one from here.” Kim put her hand over her heart. Then she scowled. “Why do you think my having a baby is ‘awful’ anyway? I’m a wonderful mother!”
“It’s not that…I’m sure you are…Wesley will grow out of this stage he’s in eventually…he’s got to improve sometime.” Mitzi wasn’t doing herself any favors.
Then she surprised us both by bursting into tears.
Mitzi does not cry. Much, I expect, for the same reason that the Statue of Liberty does not cry—she’s too hardheaded. Granted, Mitzi can make others cry, but she is traditionally tough as nails. As she says, “crying ruins your makeup.” But tonight she threw caution—and a lot of mascara—to the winds.
It took both Kim and me, patting her back, hugging her and murmuring helpless platitudes—and some fervent unspoken prayers—to calm her down.
Finally, over steaming bowls of pho, she started to talk.
“I didn’t mean I’m not happy for you, Kim,” she mumbled into her broth, “or that you shouldn’t have more children. I’m sure Wesley will grow up to be human eventually.”
I kicked Kim under the table to stop her from lunging over it to throttle Mitzi.
“But I wanted to be the first one to announce I was going to be having a baby.”
I realized that my jaw was hanging somewhere by my kneecaps and shut my gaping mouth. Kim, too, looked dumbstruck. Mitzi and a baby? Those two things went together like, well, like a hairpin and a flashlight, a toenail clipper and a feather boa, a cotton ball and a spare tire. Frankly, I think Mitzi and a baby are the most unlikely combination of all.
“You’re going to have a baby?” I choked out. “A real one?” I don’t know why I said that, except that most everything else about Mitzi is artificial—her nails, her eyelashes…
“Of course a real one! At least I thought I could.”
Mitzi looked as though she might start to cry again. “Arch and I have been trying to get pregnant for almost two years. Our doctor recommended a fertility expert. He’s optimistic, but offers no guarantees.”
“So you will be having a baby soon!” Kim blurted. “They can help so many infertile couples these days. We’ll all pray for you, won’t we, Whitney?”
“Of course.” I did a double take as I glanced at Mitzi again. She was scowling as if she’d just put her foot in a wad of discarded bubble gum. “Mitzi?”
“You realize what this means, don’t you?”
“Not exactly.” I never have a clue what anything means to Mitzi.
“If Kim’s going to adopt, she won’t be gaining a lot of weight or looking anymore fat and dumpy than she already does.”
Mitzi can ruin a compliment like no other living being.
She turned her sharp eyes on me. “That means that you’ll have to get pregnant, too, Whitney, after Arch and I are expecting.”
“I will?” Chase and I hadn’t discussed planning a baby around Mitzi’s whims. “Why?”
Mitzi rolled her eyes and looked at me as if I were dumb as rock.
“Because if I’m going to grow a stomach like a basketball, there has got to be someone in the office—besides Harry—who is fatter than me!”
Of course. I can’t think of a better reason to bring a child into the world than to make Mitzi’s waistline look good. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.
Chapter Six
“Why didn’t you tell us you were trying to get pregnant?” Kim demanded. “We could have prayed for you and your health all along.”
An uncharacteristic look of uncertainty flickered on Mitzi’s features. Mitzi is nothing if not confident—confident to the point of crazy-making, in fact. As Harry says, “Mitzi may be mistaken, but she’s never uncertain.”
“I thought I’d get pregnant right away, and I wanted to surprise everyone.” She eyed Kim speculatively. “Especially those who think I’m an irresponsible bubblehead.”
Everyone on Planet Earth, you mean?
“When it didn’t happen right away, I thought I’d better wait until that little strip turned color.”
I imagined Mitzi with a case of home pregnancy kits, testing, testing and retesting, like Dr. Frankenstein waiting for his monster’s finger to twitch.
“We thought it was a fluke, of course. I never fail a test of any kind, so I didn’t see how I could fail this one. But now that weeks have turned into months…” Genuine puzzlement filled her face.
“The