Chapter Thirty
The Encino house sold quickly. Finola and Nigel weren’t asking for the moon, pricewise, and the place was in excellent condition. The new buyers were a young family—she was a TV writer and he was a stay-at-home dad. They bought most of the furniture and what they didn’t want, Nigel took.
Finola left the escrow office after signing the papers and drove directly to the house to look around one last time. She pulled into her spot in the garage and then walked inside.
She felt strange looking at familiar sofas and the dining room set, knowing they weren’t going to be hers anymore. All the personal items were gone. She and Nigel had split up the artwork. She’d packed up her pictures and a few bits of memorabilia and put them in a small storage unit in Burbank.
She’d sorted through her clothes and had culled those down to the very basics. She would be buying a new wardrobe once she was settled in New York. The rest of her clothes and shoes and accessories, she’d donated to a women’s shelter.
She walked into what had been her office and looked around. The desk was still there, but everything else was gone. She studied the empty places on the wall, the view of the pool and the small cracks from the last earthquake.
She pressed her hand against the drywall, as if she could feel the cracks or somehow mend them. Little ones were okay but if they got too big, if they expanded, there was trouble. That was what had happened to her and Nigel, she thought sadly. Small cracks had led to something much worse. She’d been so busy living her life, she hadn’t noticed and now it was all gone—the house, her marriage, the very way she had defined herself.
The job in New York had come through. She’d rented a midtown studio apartment for a ridiculous amount of money but it had a huge walk-in closet and an in-unit washer-dryer. Both a rarity in Manhattan. She’d negotiated keeping some of her LA staff and had lured Rochelle away from her late-night gig. Associate producer on a national show was a big deal and Finola knew they would make a good team.
She went upstairs to the master bedroom. The bed was gone, but the dresser and nightstands remained. She closed her eyes, remembering how things had been with Nigel. How they’d laughed and talked and made love in this room. She thought about how she’d assumed that by now she would be five or six months pregnant. She’d expected her life to change, and it had—just not in the direction she’d hoped. She’d lost her husband and her marriage. Maybe they were never going to be forever, but she hadn’t known.
She gave in to the threatening tears, crying for what had been and how everything was different now. She was excited about the opportunity in New York and sad about leaving her family. They would stay in touch, of course. Ironically, because of all she’d been through, she’d grown closer to her sisters than ever. As for Mary Jo—well, she’d given up on moving into a bungalow by the beach. Instead she was living the dream in Parker’s Beverly Hills estate. They were wildly in love and the Burbank house had pretty much been abandoned. Ali and Zennie were planning on getting it listed in the next couple of weeks.
Life was all about change, she thought ruefully. Whether we wanted it or not, things happened. She brushed the tears from her face. She’d been forced to grow as a person. The process had sucked, but she hoped she was better than she had been. Less selfish, more aware of the people she loved. Maybe those life lessons would make her a better journalist, but even if they didn’t, she wanted to continue to strive to be a better person.
She went downstairs and into the garage, then headed toward Burbank. She was donating her car to the girls’ group she’d been reluctant to fully support with anything other than the occasional visit. Honestly, giving them the value of the car was the least she could do. She would stay with Ali and Daniel tonight, then they would take her to the airport in the morning and she would fly to New York to start her new life.
A better life, she promised herself. It had to be.
* * *
Zennie had decided to deal with her pregnancy by telling herself she was simply a vessel. Whatever happened, her vessel self would be fine. She would eventually return to the vessel she had been before and if, in the meantime, she was forced to eat disgustingly healthy food and give up things she loved and grow a basketball, well, it was for the greater good.
The fact that the hormones had died down as promised helped a lot. Her breasts hurt less and she was starting to feel a lot more normal. Maybe the second trimester would be better than the first, she thought as she walked into Dr. McQueen’s waiting area.
Today was her three-month checkup. Bernie and Hayes would join her to hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time and see the ultrasound. It was too early to determine gender, but at least they would know that everything was fine.
Zennie told the receptionist she was there, then checked her phone again. The only cloud on the horizon, so to speak, was the fact that she hadn’t heard from Bernie all morning. They’d texted last night and Bernie had been wild with excitement, but this morning, there hadn’t been a word.
She texted again, saying she was already checked in and waiting for her appointment. There was no response. The nurse called her in. Zennie explained the situation and asked if she could wait for a bit.
“Sure,” the other woman told her. “But if you give up your appointment, we’ll have to fit you in and that might take a bit.”
It was Friday so Zennie had the day off. “I can wait. I really want them here.”
Twenty agonizing minutes went by. Zennie texted Bernie again, then tried to call Hayes. There was no answer. Panic started to set in. What if something had happened to them? What if there had been an accident or a house fire? What if they had changed their minds about the baby and didn’t know how to tell her?
She told herself to stay calm, but once the panic was established, it would not be denied. She felt herself starting to hyperventilate. How could this be happening?
She walked out into the hallway so she could pace without disturbing the other clients. She tried calling Cassie and DeeDee, but they were both on shift and couldn’t take a personal call. Finally she texted Clark.
I’m having my ultrasound. It’s three months and a big deal, but Bernie’s not here and she’s not answering her texts and I can’t get Hayes on the phone.
It took only a couple of seconds for the little dots to appear on the screen.
Are you going to keep your appointment?
Yes. Even if they’re not here, I need to know the baby’s okay.
Then I’ll be there in thirty minutes. If they show up in the meantime, let me know and I’ll go back to work. If not, I’ll be a friend. Ah, there’s nothing scary to see, is there?
Despite everything, that last question made her smile. Nothing scary, I promise. Just the heartbeat and an ultrasound.
Cool. Be there soon.
She continued to pace and worry and try not to imagine the worst, although at this point she wasn’t sure which was more upsetting—that Bernie and Hayes had been in a traffic accident or that they’d changed their mind about the baby.
Just when she thought she was going to have to go into the appointment by herself, the elevator opened and Clark stepped out. Zennie ran to him, her arms outstretched.
“They’re still not here. I don’t know what’s going on, but it has to be bad. What am I going to do? My best friend is dead and I’m pregnant. I know it sounds horrible, but I wasn’t looking to have a baby. I can’t do this. I can’t. I know everyone thinks I’m strong, but I’m not.”
Clark held her until she finished talking, then put his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes.
“There is a perfectly logical explanation for what has happened. I don’t know what it is, but it’s something. We will find out and we will deal. You’re not going to have the baby on your own. All the legal issues were covered in the paperwork.”
“You don’t know that,” she said frantically. “I might want kids someday but I’m not sure and definitely not like this. Not now. Not with Hayes.”
“Zennie, calm down. Breathe. It’s going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that,” she repeated.
“I do. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it. I meant what I said before. We’re friends and you can count on me. How long have you been waiting?”
“Nearly an hour.”
“Let’s go inside and get to the procedures, then we’ll manage the rest, okay?”
She nodded, still unable to catch her breath. “I don’t understand.”
“I know. It’s okay. Whatever is happening, you have lots of support. If it’s bad, DeeDee and Cassie will be with you as soon as they’re off work. You have your sisters and your mom.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry to be such a mess.”
“You’re fine. Now let’s go in and torture me with whatever this is.”
She managed a smile and led the way back into the waiting area.
It took another forty minutes for her to be called. Clark waited outside while she put on a gown and robe, then stretched out on the table for the ultrasound. When the technician let him in, Bernie raced in with him and hovered by Zennie’s side.