Tempting Fate Part 19

Trish is, he thinks, as he walks up the stairs to her room, completely selfless. She makes him feel like the most important man in the world. She creates a beautiful home, cooks like a dream, runs a hugely successful business, is a loving and present mother. She is the woman who has it all, the domestic G.o.ddess personified.

It will kill Gabby when she finds out. When he tells her he is living with Trish, not just dating her. But he knows he will have to tell her.

Why did she have to buy the watch? It was so ... sad. So desperate. So heartbreaking. The hope in her eyes and the disappointment when he couldn't take it. There was no question of him taking it. He knew exactly what it was, and he knew too that he couldn't not tell her about Trish. Not when Gabby's need for him was so evident.

He never wanted to hurt her. However much she has hurt him a and my G.o.d, the pain these last few months has been, at times, almost unbearable a he has never wanted to cause her pain. He did, tonight, telling her about Trish; he had no choice.

Things with Trish seem to be serious. Elliott walks into the bedroom, marvelling at how beautiful she looks, lying there with her legs crossed, not a patch of stubble on them, her nail polish always perfectly, prettily pink, her hair slicked back behind her ears.

*How was it?' she asks, craning up for a kiss.

*It was good. Good for the kids. A little awkward.'

She reaches up and caresses his cheek. *You're a good man, Elliott. You did the right thing.'

*This is what I love about you,' he says, careful not to say he loves her, because he is not there yet, even though he suspects he may be well on the way. *You give me room to do the things I have to do.'

*I'm not the jealous type,' she says with a smile.

*I know. And it makes it possible for me to be the man I want to be. To show up for my kids. To be a father to them, and to give them a Christmas they couldn't have otherwise had. Thank you.' He lifts her hand, brings it to his lips and kisses it. *Honestly. Thank you for never being threatened by Gabby or the relations.h.i.+p I have to have with her for the sake of the children.'

*I'm not threatened by Gabby.' Trish smiles again, pulling him in for a kiss. *I'm not threatened by anyone.'

Elliott likes being married. He likes being a father. He likes familiarity, and comfort, and knowing where he stands. These past months, marked first with the awkwardness of staying with Claire and Tim, then with the loneliness of living in the little house close to the railroad tracks that never felt like home, have thrown him.

Nothing felt right. Elliott would wake up in the morning feeling out of sorts, unable to regain his equilibrium, no matter what he did. His equilibrium had always come from being married and everything that derived from that: waking up next to a woman you love; raising your children together; phoning each other a couple of times during the day just to check in, or remind the other of a dinner date they may have forgotten about. His equilibrium came from being able to go down to the boatyard at the weekends and chat with the men there about the old boats for sale, knowing his wife was at home, taking care of the kids, getting lunch ready, keeping everything balanced and even.

Until Trish, nothing had felt balanced for a while, and Elliott wasn't a man able to deal with his life being off-kilter. If it hadn't been Trish, it might have been someone else.

Yet if it hadn't been for Trish, it is entirely possible Elliott would have found himself staying in the spare room tonight.

If it hadn't been for Trish, it is entirely possible Elliott would have lain under the blanket on the new bed in the spare room, listening to Gabby as she finished clearing up the kitchen.

It is entirely possible he would have fallen asleep thinking about the years they were married, how happy they were, how she looked when she lay underneath him, gazing into his eyes with love. He would have been woken up in the early hours of the morning by the creaking of the stairs, would have emerged from his bedroom to find Gabby creeping down to fill the stockings while the girls were fast asleep, moving as quietly as she could to avoid the danger of them waking up and seeing that there is no Santa Claus, even though they both know there is no Santa Claus.

He would have crept down alongside her, smiling in the darkness, to help with the stockings, and while they were filling them perhaps their hands would have met, in the soft illumination of the Christmas tree, and then they wouldn't have been smiling, and he would have been kissing her, melting in the familiarity of her lips, the smell of her, the feel of her hair.

If it hadn't been for Trish, perhaps he would have gone home.

But then he remembers the b.u.mp, the baby. Then he remembers the betrayal that ruined his life, that will never go away, that will be a daily reminder of how his wife screwed him a screwed someone other than him. And his heart closes down, and he is thankful, so thankful, that Trish came along when she did.

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

Gabby is weighed down with dread in the morning. Elliott and Trish. Trish and Elliott. She slept terribly, waking up all night with visions of her husband and Trish playing in her mind. She hadn't prepared for this, hadn't imagined, not for a second, that Elliott would even be thinking about dating anyone else.

Don't they say that men take far longer to get over things because they can't process them emotionally in the way women can? Why isn't Elliott taking longer to get over her? How is it possible that he has moved on so quickly? Jesus. It's hardly been any time at all.

With Trish of all people. She groans out loud. *I hate her,' she says suddenly.

Alanna overhears as she pa.s.ses Gabby's bedroom, her arms filled with goodies from her stocking. *Who do you hate?'

*What? No one,' she says quickly. *I was just thinking of the lyrics to a song.'

*I hate her?' Alanna gives her a strange look. *Are you sure?'

*Yes,' Gabby insists, heaving herself out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom.

*Wow, Mom! You're huge.'

*Thanks, Alanna,' Gabby snaps. *Way to go to make your mom feel good at Christmas.'

Alanna follows her into the doorway. *Sorry, Mom. It's just ... you look like you're about to give birth.'

*I hope not.' Then Gabby reconsiders. *Actually I wish. But it's still rather early. I have to tell you, I feel ready. I cannot wait to hold this new baby in my arms.' She looks up at her daughter. *I can't believe I'm going to have another little one. Oh, Alanna, you were both so gorgeous when you were tiny. I don't mean that you aren't gorgeous now, but I still can't quite believe I'm going to have a tiny baby again.'

*Don't cry, Mom. You should be happy.'

Gabby starts to laugh. *I am! I'm just sentimental. I'm so crazy about babies, and I never thought I'd have another one. These are tears of joy.'

*Mom? Can I ask you something? The baby's father. Are you still in touch with him?'

Gabby sighs. This is so hard. She didn't want the girls to know, but in the end she couldn't protect them. But how does she explain this, when she isn't even sure she's doing the right thing?

*I'm not, and I honestly don't know what I'm going to do. He's young, and not ready for children. I don't want to impose upon his life. I think at some point I might let him know, but I have no expectations, and I think it's better this way.'

Alanna thinks for a while. *But don't you think the baby deserves to know who his father is?'

Yes, thinks Gabby. But she always hoped Elliott would step up to fill the role; she still hopes Elliott will step up to fill the role. *I think,' she says, *we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.'

Alanna says nothing, leaving the room to take her stash of goodies back downstairs.

Today, Elliott's presence is getting on Gabby's nerves. The fantasies of them all playing a happy family, the fake perfection and cosiness of last night are long gone. Gabby watches him frying bacon, pretending that everything's fine, and feels a surge of anger. His happiness has nothing to do with her, and everything to do with that b.i.t.c.h Trish.

How she blames Trish. It doesn't matter that it could have been anyone, that Elliott is free to date, given that they are officially separated; it doesn't matter that Gabby was unfaithful to him, is pregnant with another man's child; all that matters is that Trish is the woman who stole her husband, and Gabby will never be able to say her name without gnas.h.i.+ng her teeth in rage.

I bet this is Claire's doing, she thinks, in a flash of fury. For years she called herself my best friend, then couldn't wait to set my husband up with Trish, the one woman guaranteed to make me nuts. Claire, who emailed her a while back out of the blue, who now sends her emails on a fairly regular basis, as if nothing is wrong between them, as if they are still great friends.

Claire, who fills those emails with funny stories about her child, the horrors of being the oldest mother in the mommy and me group, the bags under her eyes large enough to carry groceries in, thanks to the endless sleepless nights.

Initially flabbergasted to receive a chatty, warm, information-filled email from her former best friend, speaking to Gabby as if she hadn't dropped her like a dirty s.h.i.+rt at a time when Gabby needed her most, after a while she couldn't help but enjoy Claire's emails.

Gabby wanted to write back telling her how disgusted she was, but as she read through that first email she realized how much she missed Claire's voice, her point of view, her guidance and wisdom.

She has grown to look forward to the emails, even though she doesn't respond. She isn't ready to forgive Claire for not standing by her, not being there for her. But at the same time she can't help but laugh at the things Claire writes; can't help but miss having a friend like her.

And yet, however much she longs to have Claire back in her life she isn't able to forget Claire's betrayal. Why did Claire *choose' Elliott, to the exclusion of her best friend? Gabby can't see that a choice even had to be made.

And Elliott? He is trying, oh how he is trying, to make things right, to recreate last night, but their easy camaraderie is gone, and Gabby looks grim as she takes the strawberries out of the fridge and pours hot chocolate for the girls.

She closes her eyes for a second as she stands by the fridge, so tired, so desperately wanting her life to be something, anything, other than the life she has.

*Mom? Are you okay?' Olivia is watching her.

*I'm fine. I'm just really tired suddenly.'

*Why don't you go upstairs and lie down?' Elliott is concerned. *The girls will bring you breakfast in bed.'

What do you care? She wants to say it, but she doesn't. She nods and goes upstairs, relieved as soon as she lies on her bed, cradled in the heap of pillows. Elliott telling her about his girlfriend a the word is snarled nastily in her head a has thrown her. She hasn't felt right since then. Sick and tired. Ha! She is, indeed, sick and tired. And terrified, now, of what this means.

All this time, she has harboured the hope that they will get back together. More than hoped. Known. She has presumed Elliott will come home, because this is where he belongs. This is where he has always belonged. She has been able to keep away, to give him s.p.a.ce, only because she has always known that at some point he is going to take her face in his hands and gently kiss her, telling her how sorry he is, asking her to give things another chance.

But she was wrong. Which means she is on her own. Which means that life will never be the same again. And despite what Sally at the divorce support group said, despite her a.s.surances that there would be love, and possibility, and joy again, Gabby knows that's not true.

Not without Elliott.

After breakfast, brought up by the girls, Gabby falls asleep. When she awakes, the house is quiet. She crawls out from under the covers and takes the tray downstairs, finding Elliott asleep on the sofa in the family room, Olivia and Alanna on either side of him, both of them avidly watching some movie as a fire dies down in the fireplace.

Gabby stands watching them for a while. Alanna notices her and waves, then Olivia does the same, neither of them talking.

*What are you watching?' she asks finally.

*Love Actually,' mumbles Alanna. *Ssshh.'

*Shall I make popcorn?' Gabby offers, as she feels a warm whoosh of liquid down her legs. *Oh G.o.d,' she says, reaching out a hand to steady herself, trying to make sense of what has happened. Could she have had an accident? Has her bladder been rendered so weak by pregnancy that she could just stand and wet herself?

*What's the matter?' Both girls look alarmed. *What is it?'

Gabby reaches down to swipe her legs and then inspects the liquid. It's clear. Has no colour, no scent.

*I think,' she moans, *my waters just broke.'

Elliott keeps turning to her. *Are you okay? Are you sure you're okay?'

Gabby clutches the armrests, furiously breathing in and out, nodding with wide, scared eyes.

*Mom?' Olivia, excited and terrified, peers over the back of Gabby's seat. *I saw in a movie someone doing some counting. Do you want me to count?'

*I don't know,' Gabby puffs, exhaling as the contraction pa.s.ses, leaning her head back on the headrest with a groan. *Oh G.o.d. I should have gone to Lamaze cla.s.ses.'

*I remember Lamaze cla.s.ses,' Elliott says. *We did them before.'

*Yes, but that was for Olivia. That was almost eighteen years ago. I don't remember anything.'

*You're doing great.' Alanna reaches forward and rubs her mother's arm, before turning to Olivia. *I can't believe we get to watch!'

*No!' Gabby shakes her head in horror. *You're not watching!'

*Aw, Mom!' Alanna grumbles. *It's natural. Childbirth. What could be more beautiful?'

Olivia grimaces. *Ewww. I do not want to watch. No, thank you. Call me in when it's all over.'

*I'll call you both in when it's all over,' says Gabby. *Oh G.o.d, here comes another one. Elliott? Can you drive faster? f.u.c.k!' And she's breathing hard again, trying to ease the pain, looking not unlike a terrified blowfish.

Elliott says nothing more. He doesn't want to be here. He can't believe he is here; it's just his bad luck that Gabby's waters broke when he happened to be in the house. And yet, there is a part of him grateful to be here, for what the h.e.l.l would Gabby have done if she'd been on her own with the girls?

All he has to do is get her safely to the hospital and deliver her into the arms of a waiting doctor. Perhaps he'll go with them to the room, make sure the girls are okay, then leave just before they put the epidural in.

That would be the perfect time to leave. The one thing he's certain of is that he doesn't want to be anywhere near the place when the baby's about to be born.

Chapter Thirty.

*Come on, nearly there. You can do it. Keep pus.h.i.+ng, Gabby, one last time.'

Gabby leans her head back in exhaustion, summoning all her strength to push the baby out, certain that if it doesn't come out with this push, it's not coming out at all.

With a long grunt, Gabby pushes hard, feeling the release as the slick of life leaves her body, slithering into the waiting hands.

*Congratulations!' The doctor smiles. *You have a beautiful baby boy.'

The baby is placed gently in Gabby's arms as tears of wonder roll down her face.

*A boy!' she whispers, her face lit with a beatific smile. *He's perfect!' Despite the tiniest of features being scrunched up, he is still the most beautiful baby she has ever seen, more beautiful perhaps because he was so unexpected. Whatever misgivings she may have had, whatever regrets, she knows she wouldn't change this moment for anything.

The surge of love is instant and all-consuming. She will do anything for this baby; this baby will make everything okay; this baby is the only thing that matters in the world.

A nurse catches Elliott's eye. *Congratulations, Dr Cartwright,' she says with a big smile. *Or perhaps I should say "Dad".' Elliott smiles awkwardly, nodding in acknowledgement. How can he tell her, tell anyone here, that he is not the father? How can he admit that he is overwhelmed by the miracle of birth, by the fact of this new life now squalling in Gabby's arms, but that it has nothing to do with him?

He wasn't able to leave. He tried, many times, but on each occasion a nurse or a doctor would come in and address him as *Dad', or give him instructions a not to let Gabby have too many ice chips a or simply speak to him as if he was supposed to be there, and he didn't know how to just walk away.

The truth is that he doesn't feel angry at Gabby any more. Not since his relations.h.i.+p with Trish began. He feels, mostly, sad. Sad for her, for her predicament, for what she has done to her life. He, after all, is in a relations.h.i.+p, and can, at times, see it becoming serious. This has less to do with Trish, and more a everything, in fact a to do with Elliott liking being married, needing the security, the routine, the comfort of having someone to come home to.

Here at the hospital, with Gabby, he feels at once connected, and curiously detached. She is the mother of his children, the woman he knows better than anyone in the world, but there is a barrier between them now that can never be removed.