Page 81 of Summer Light on Nantucket
“That’s good, Blythe, that’s good.” His face changed as he had a sudden thought. “That means I’ll be able to pay less child support, right?”
Oh, why did I tell him?Blythe wanted to kick herself.
“Right,” she said caustically. “Because teachers are paid so well.” She continued, “When I’m working, you’ll need to have more responsibility for the children. Like taking them to ballet class or soccer practice.”
Bob’s mouth turned down. “You know I can’t just leave my office in the middle of the day. I have clients who need me. I work hard. And pay the bills.”
“Maybe Teri could take them.”
“Blythe…about Teri.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe I shouldn’t do this, but, honestly, I think you’re the only one who can help me.”
Now what?Blythe waited.
“Teri wants to have a baby,” Bob announced, the words rushing out of his mouth.
“And…” Blythe prompted.
“Jesus Christ, Blythe!” Bob ran his hands over his face. “I don’t know if I can do it again. I’m too old for a baby.”
“Al Pacino is eighty-three and has a toddler.”
“I’m not Al Pacino!” Bob shook his head. “Honestly, Blythe, I don’t think I should do it again. It’s exhausting. I have enough children.”
“But Teri doesn’t.”
“You’re on her side?” Bob asked, incredulous.
“I guess I am. She’s young enough. And babies are nice.”
“What about our four? They’d be jealous. Angry.”
“They’d be thrilled. You’d have free babysitters.”
Bob stood up and paced the floor. “I’m shocked. I don’t understand you at all.”
Should she do this? Blythe didn’t hesitate. “The very least you can do is be honest with Teri. Tell her you’ve had a vasectomy.”
Bob fell back into his chair. “You’re killing me, woman.”
“Good morning, everyone!” A large, lovely nurse with a name tag telling them her name was Wanda swept into the room.
Blythe didn’t think she’d ever been so glad to see anyone in her life.
Wanda said, “Could I ask you both to leave? I need some time with my darling Celeste.”
Blythe almost said, “She’s notyourdarling,” but then she thought, maybe she was, maybe Wanda really cared about her patients and found their limp, pallid bodies endearing to her. Like some people naturally loved dogs and others loved babies but not teenagers.
“Thank you, Wanda,” she said.
As they left the room, Bob suggested they go somewhere for lunch.
“Thanks, Bob, but no. I need to get home to the kids.”
sometimes, doughnuts
She stopped by the Downyflake on her way home and bought a dozen doughnuts and an apple croissant for herself. She knew from experience that when a crisis arose, doughnuts were always a good idea. The house was quiet when she entered. Someone—probably Daphne—had tidied up after breakfast. Blythe took a cup of coffee and her croissant out to the back porch and sat listening to the birds. It would be hot later. A great day for swimming. If Bob was with Celeste, Blythe didn’t need to be there. She could focus on the children. The first chore would be talking to Brooks. But really, should she? What could she say? When Aaden left for Ireland, Blythe had cried her heart out every day, but her parents barely tried to console her.
“You’re young,” they said. “You’ll get over him.”
