Page 80 of Sexy as Sin
Brett, Willow could swear, rocked back on his heels. “That’s...” he said, then cleared his throat. “That’s great. How far along are you?”
“Fifteen weeks. And, no, you don’t have to say anything. We’ve done all the testing, and every way they can watch, they’re watching. Every care we can take, we’re taking. Travel is another thing Aaron isn’t doing.”
“I can imagine.” Brett was back to “wooden” again. “Congratulations to both of you. Will you send me an announcement?”
The waiter appeared behind her with a pizza, and Nia looked around, then said, “Of course, if you’d like one.”
“I would,” Brett said. “And I’m happy for you. You deserve it.”
A crumbling of the façade, instantly put to rights, and she said, her voice only a little strained, “Thank you. Nice to meet you, Wendy.” She headed off, bumping into a chair in the process like she couldn’t see, and Brett, who’d started to sit, was up again and stepping forward. Nia straightened herself again, though, and headed over to a table in the corner, where three men in dark suits were engaged in earnest conversation. A work lunch, clearly.
Brett sat down. Slowly. And the waiter set the pizza and a salad on the table. The pizza looked like everything Willow would have eaten in heaven—pesto, gorgeous white stracciatella buffalo cheese, and arugula, all of it arranged on a thin, crispy crust with the popped bubbles that told you the oven had been exactly the right temperature.
She wanted a sip of her red wine. Correction. She wanted the whole glass, and then possibly another one. She asked Brett, “Would you like to leave? I’m happy to go someplace else.”
“No,” he said. “Let’s eat.”
She hesitated, then served him up a piece of pizza and a spoonful of chopped salad and did the same thing for herself. After that, shedidtake a sip of wine, and a few more, and Brett still sat there without eating, like he hadn’t noticed there was anything on his plate, and he’d long since forgotten to be hungry.
What did she say now? She was still working on it when he said, “Excuse me,” and headed back behind the bar, walking as upright as anybody with a cane possibly could.
She waited. Nothing else to do. She couldn’t exactly barge into the men’s toilet after him.
Somebody slipped into the seat across from her. Nia again. Oh, this was a wonderful day.
“Is he all right?” Nia asked.
Willow wanted to hate her. There was no way. She told the truth. “I don’t know.”
“It came out wrong,” Nia said. “I thought—I can’t just ignore him. I’ve done that before. I’ve been on the other side of the street and pretended I didn’t see him. Oh, have I ever done that, and I’m sure he’s noticed. And—oh.” She laughed, not looking at Willow, and passed a hand over her hair, like a woman who wasn’t used to being at a disadvantage. “I just realized that you could be a work colleague. But you’re in jeans, and you seemed—I don’t know. In love. Don’t tell me I messed up on that, too. Aaron’s going to look so understanding tonight when I tell him.” Her eyes were bright, and now, she grabbed Brett’s serviette, touched it to each eye in turn, and muttered something that could have been a curse word, then, “Sorry. This is not me.”
“We’re...” Willow stopped. She didn’t know exactly what they were. She decided on, “Together. He told me about you. And about Claire.” She reached out a hand and touched the other woman’s arm. Tentatively, in case it was wrong. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that was. Is.” What did yousay?Aunt Fiona would have known. She didn’t.
Nia set down the serviette. “Hetoldyou about her?Brett?”
“Yes. Why? It’s been a... a weight, clearly, the same way it is for you. A sorrow. You don’t get over a sorrow like that.”
Nia shook her head. “Don’t tell me my mother was right.”
“Pardon?”
A long silence, then Nia said, “I was so furious with him. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to claw his eyes out. I did, too. Not the clawing, but the screaming? I did that. He was like... stone, and I couldn’t stand it. I told my mother, ‘You can’t get blood from a stone. I need him to shed blood the way I am. Why doesn’t hehurt,when I hurt so much? How can he keep going to work like Claire was nothing? Like it’s too bad, but it’s over now?” Two tears had escaped her perfectly lined eyes and were making their way down her cheeks, but she didn’t seem aware of it. “And my mother said, ‘He’s hurting. Men hurt differently from women. They bleed in, not out. When he shows you the least, it’s because he’s feeling the most.’ I didn’t believe her. Maybe I should have.”
“I think,” Willow said, “that she was right. I’msureshe was. And I’m also sure it will help him to know that you’re having a baby girl now, that you’re strong enough to try again.”
“I’m terrified to try again,” Nia said. “Every night, I go to sleep with my hand on my belly, thinking, ‘Please, God, let me keep this baby. Please,mija,please keep growing.’ And really, it’s my body I’m trying to tell. Not to let go this time. Not to stop working for her. And before you say anything—I know it wasn’t my fault. It just happened. Sometimes it does. I haven’t dared to name her yet. It feels like I’ll be struck down for it. Or she will.” Two more slow tears, and then some more. “But tell Brett, please—I know it wasn’t his fault, either. I was soangrywith him, and, yes, that was because I couldn’t stand to take it on myself. My mother said that. Mytherapistsaid that, although they never actually say it. They try to getyouto say it. I could put it all on him, though, because he could take anything. And I did.”
This ache. It filled Willow’s chest. “I’ll tell him,” she promised.
Nia wiped her eyes again, leaving streaks of black on the white serviette, and said, “So how’s he doing? Is he happy? With the business, I mean, because otherwise, he’s always exactly the same. How could anybody tell? And you’re not American. Why not?”
Whynot?“Uh... I’m Australian. He’s doing a new development there. That’s where I met him. I think he’s doing well. Professionally.”
“How many houses is he up to now?”
“Ah...” What was she supposed to say? “The loft here, and one in Montana?”
Nia had stopped crying, at least. Now, she was staring at her. “Is that what he told you?”
