pregnant.â
âHuh.â Paul poured two small glasses of juice and handed me one. âCongratulations. I thought you and Ross decided to pass on the kid thing.â
âWe did decide to pass on the kid thing. But things happen, you know.â
âI do know. So, howâs Ross handling it?â
Better than I am, I thought.
âGreat. Heâs thrilled. Heâs acting like a kid on Christmas morning.â
âThat must be a big relief.â
âItâs a lot better than his leaving me,â I replied.
Paul looked at me closely. âHave you told Mom and Dad yet?â he asked.
I shrugged. âNo. Iâm going to, though. Soon. I want to see my doctor first and all.â
âWhy are you putting it off? Momâs going to be thrilled. And even though Dadâs not overly fond of Rossââ
âHe isnât?â
Paul grimaced and put the plate of gourmet sandwiches Iâd brought on the scarred, wood table. Heâd gotten it at a yard sale after heâd moved out of the beautifully decorated house heâd shared with Bess.
âOh,â he said. âSorry. I thought you knew that.â
Well, the truth was I did sort of know that. I mean, my father isnât exactly subtle, or a good social liar. And he and Ross are so different in so many ways. It dawned on me then that for all I knew Ross might not like my father all that much.
âItâs okay,â I said.
âWell, what I was going to say is that Dad will be thrilled heâs getting another grandchild. Iâm sure of it.â
I wasnât so sure, but I didnât argue. Neither Dad nor Mom is much in the grandparent department. They prefer golf vacations in North Carolina with other comfortably situated couples to family trips to Disney World and Sunday dinner en famille.
âWill you tell Bess?â I asked.
âSure, if you want me to. Or you could call her yourself.â
âIâm kind of uncomfortable doing that,â I admitted. âSince the divorce, things have been a little awkward between us. Iâm sorry.â
Paul shrugged. My delicate feelings were the least of his worries.
âSheâs a good mother,â he said, blandly. âShe might be of some help along the way.â
âOkay,â I said, a bit ashamed. âThanks.â
Paul and I ate lunch in relative silence, and at two oâclock I helped him herd Matthew and Emma into the familyâs requisite truck-like car. Paul drove me to the train station; he kept the motor running while I said goodbye.
I leaned over the back of the seat and blew the children kisses. Neither seemed particularly sorry to see me go. Matthew was staring out the side window; Emma was playing with a lavender-haired doll. I climbed out of the monster truck.
âGood luck, Anna,â Paul said, as he pulled away.
I waved half-heartedly.
What my brother didnât say but what I know he was thinking: Youâre going to need it.
14
Do No Harm
âI made an appointment to see my gynecologist this Thursday,â I said. Ross and I were at the condo; weâd met there after work to discuss color choices for the master bathroom. âHer office is in Chestnut Hill.â
Ross looked up from the paint samples he was studying. âGood. Iâll send my car service to take you there and back. I donât want you dealing with the T. There are too many deranged people in this city, and God knows how many germs are floating around those filthy cars.â
I didnât want to take the T, either. A car service was a better option, but ...
âI was kind of hoping you would come with me,â I said.
âAnna, I canât.â Ross handed me the stack of paint samples. âTake a look at these. Iâm leaning toward Seashell for the master bath. Weâll need an accent color, of course.â
âWhy canât you?â I asked. I put the stack of paint samples on