Jamie Sobrato - Baby Under The Mistletoe

Michelle nodded. “I left him home with a cold tonight, poor guy.”

“Good for you. I’ve never understood why women are so willing to be the nursemaid.”

“It sort of goes with the territory.”

“Exactly!” her mother exclaimed a little too enthusiastically.

Soleil cringed. “Mom…”

“Which is why these two should not get married. Don’t you think they’ve got the perfect situation here, Michelle?”

Her friend blinked, stunned at Anne’s words. “Um, I guess that’s up to them, isn’t it?”

“Marriage isn’t a relationship of equals-it’s a power struggle.”

“How would you know when you’ve never been officially married?” Soleil asked as evenly as she could. “And why are you even talking about marriage?”

“I’m trying to head off disaster at the pass. You get knocked up, next thing you know everyone’s peering at your finger, looking for a wedding ring. Believe me, I know. I lived it.”

“That was thirty-five years ago. A few things have changed since then if you haven’t noticed.”

“We pay lip service, but nothing’s really changed. You’ll see.”

“I personally love the power struggle,” Michelle jumped in, trying her best to lighten the mood. “It’s great for our sex life. Especially when I’m the one winning,” she said, grinning big.

Soleil could have kissed her friend. She’d effectively shut her mother up. Her mother, the big avant-garde poet, was remarkably uncomfortable with public discussions of sex.

Public discussions that involved humiliating her daughter-no problem.

But sex? Definitely a problem.

Soleil gave West a look, silently thanking him for putting up with her mother. His eyes were smiling, even though he was trying his best to keep his expression neutral.

He was on her team.

“You look like you could use a little fresh air,” he said, leaning in close. “Why don’t we step outside on the front porch for a bit? Or maybe go for a walk?”

“That would be great,” she said, letting him guide her toward the door.

Once they were outside in the cool night air, Soleil took a deep breath and exhaled, watching her breath form a steamy cloud.

“Wow, ten minutes here and the fireworks show has already started,” West said.

“Ugh. My mother-”

“She is who she is. No changing her now, right?”

“She gets worse with age.”

“Maybe we should water down the whiskey bottle before she has another drink.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Soleil said, laughing. “Except she keeps a flask in her purse, too.”

God, it felt good to laugh. And once she started, she couldn’t stop. She laughed until her belly shook and tears streamed from her eyes.

West, a little bewildered by her outburst, grinned nervously as he waited for her to recover.

“She really does get to you, doesn’t she?” he said once she’d nearly calmed down.

“It’s either laugh or cry. Or both,” she said, wiping the dampness from the corners of her eyes.

West looked up at the night sky, where it was remarkably clear. Stars glittered from above, even more visible than usual.

After a few silent moments, he turned back to her. “Are you warm enough to go for a short walk?”

“Sure,” she said, thrilled at the idea of getting away from the tension in the party.

They walked for a bit in silence, admiring the twinkling lights on the houses nearby, and the glow of the moonlight on the lake beyond the homes. Once they reached the lakeside, they walked along the path that circled this part of Promise Lake.

“Have you ever heard how Promise Lake got its name?” West asked, breaking the silence.

“No, actually. I haven’t.”

“One of the men who settled this area had a bride he left back East when he came here for the gold rush. He was apparently madly in love with her, and he wrote her a letter promising when she came out to live with him, he had a whole beautiful lake that would be hers. He was going to build her a big house at the edge of it, and they’d be rich and live happily ever after.”

“That’s quite the fairy tale,” Soleil said, but she was in more of a mood than usual to buy such nonsense.

“Anyway, his bride was killed on the trip out, and he was heartbroken. The story goes that he never did marry anyone else, simply lived out his life alone here, in a little shack.”

“So how’d the lake come to be named Promise?”

“Well, he did strike it rich enough to own all this land and name the area whatever he wanted, but he never did build the big house. He called it Promise because looking at the lake always reminded him of the promise he wasn’t able to keep.”

Soleil laughed, but okay, she was a tiny bit touched by the story. Not much, though.

West took her hand and stopped her. She turned to face him.

“I know you’re not much on romantic notions, but I hope you’ll tolerate me getting a little sentimental now.”

Maybe it was the cold, but Soleil’s eyes began to sting, and she had to blink a lot to keep them from watering. “Okay.” she said.

“I’m in love with you, Soleil.”

She hadn’t been expecting it. She’d been enjoying the walk. But here it was, the thing she dreaded.

“I’m glad we’re going to be having a baby together.”

“I am, too,” she said weakly.

“I want us to get married and be a family. Will you marry me?”

She felt her throat close up. She didn’t want it to end like this.

“Come with me to Colorado and wherever else I have to go. We can hire someone else to run the farm until I’m eligible for retirement. Then we’ll move here and run it together. It’ll work-we can make it work.”

“West,” she said, feeling horribly sad and tired all of a sudden. “I can’t,” she said. “I just can’t.”

“You’re not even going to think about it?”

“You know how I feel.”

“But-”

“I’m sorry,” she said, turning away, heading back toward his mother’s.

And she was. But now she saw through all the romantic notions, that he really hadn’t changed at all, and they really weren’t meant to be.

SOLEIL PEERED at the of purple paint, trying to decide if the wall needed a fourth coat. Was it her imagination, or was there still the faintest bit of white showing through?

She couldn’t know because she’d been staring at the nursery walls so long, she was nearly cross-eyed.

The sound of the doorbell jarred her out of her puzzlement, and she muttered a curse as she put the paint roller in the pan and headed downstairs.

If it was her mother again, she was going to scream.

But when she opened the door, she found Julia, holding a huge gift basket full of baby things.

“Hi,” Soleil said. “What are you-”

“I’m sorry to drop by like this. I talked to West, and he told me about you two…and I felt so bad. This didn’t seem like a conversation to have over the phone.”

“It’s okay, come in,” Soleil said, her stomach knotting at the mention of West and what he must have told his mother.

That she was evil. That she’d broken his heart. That she’d ruined their baby’s chance to have a nuclear family because she was too much of a selfish, feminist, career-obsessed shrew.

“This is for you.” Julia handed Soleil the basket after she closed the door.

“You really shouldn’t have. Thank you.”

“I couldn’t resist. Now that we know it’s a girl-Oh, Lord, the cute baby-girl stuff out there!”

Soleil smiled. “This is so generous of you. I was just painting the nursery. Would you like to see it?”

“I’d love to.”

Soleil led her up the stairs. When they reached the nursery, she set the basket inside the crib and turned back to Julia.

“So this is it.”

“The color is beautiful. It’s like being inside a jewel.”

“It’s really peaceful, isn’t it? I thought with all the light this room gets, it could handle a dark color.”

“And this crib!”

“West and I picked it out.”

Julia put a hand over her mouth as she admired the mahogany woodwork. Then her expression turned pained as she looked back to Soleil.

“I want you to know that you’re family-we’re family. Whatever has happened between you and West, I know it’s not my business.”

Soleil nodded. “Thank you for saying that.”

“It’s hard raising a baby on your own. I never really had to do it, but I did endure a lot of long deployments being a military wife-sometimes a year at a time-so I know how lonely it can be, and I want to be here for you.”

“That’s very kind of you-”

“I’m not just saying it, Soleil. I’m very serious. I want to be a big part of the baby’s life, if you’ll allow me to be.”

“Of course I will. You’ll be her grandmother.”

Crazy, crazy, crazy, how life twisted and turned. A year ago, Julia was simply a kindly older woman in Soleil’s book group. Now she was someone Soleil would depend upon greatly.

Julia was studying her, looking thoughtful. “I’m not sure if you know this about West, but he tries more than anyone else I know to do the right thing.”

“That’s an admirable trait,” Soleil said evenly, not wanting to get into a discussion of West with his own mother.

Not now, especially.

“I know this is awkward, and I’m not trying to defend him for whatever he’s done to keep the two of you apart, but do keep in mind that his heart is in the best possible place.”

Tears pricked Soleil’s eyes unexpectedly. She nodded, unable to speak without her voice cracking.

Julia gave her a hug and a reassuring pat on the back, and Soleil was grateful for the moment to recover.

Why she was feeling so emotional now, she couldn’t say. Maybe it was hormones, or the impending holidays, or the sadness of knowing she wasn’t going to be able to give her baby the nuclear-family ideal that, for a moment or two, she’d allowed herself to believe might really happen.

Maybe it was more about what she’d secretly longed for as a child, rather than whatever her own child might or might not desire.

“How about a cup of tea?” she finally said, her tone light in a way she hoped didn’t sound too forced.

“I’d love that.”

The two women went to the kitchen, and Soleil put on the kettle.

“Is chamomile okay?”

“Perfect,” Julia said as she walked around the kitchen, smiling at what she saw. “This is such a beautiful, cozy place you have.”

“Oh, thanks, I haven’t changed it much. It’s mostly how my grandparents had it, minus the frumpy curtains and stained recliner chair.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “What is it with men and those recliners?”

“I’m surprised my grandfather didn’t take his to the grave with him.”

“Of course not. That would have kept future generations from enjoying it,” Julia said, laughing, as she sat at the kitchen table.

“How’s it going at your ex-husband’s house? I mean, your taking care of him-is it working out okay?”

“It’s…sort of working. I got into an argument about it with West the other day. He doesn’t want me to be there.”

“Must be hard seeing your ex-husband in the state he’s in.”

“It is hard. I don’t think West understands how hard it really is for me, or why I feel responsible for taking care of John now.”

“Why do you?”

She smiled in such a way that it looked as if she was about to frown, and she shook her head. “Because, for a big part of my life, I expected to. Some wedding vows are harder to break than others.”

“Do you ever want to remarry, or have another partner?” Soleil asked, curious about Julia’s real life, the one she didn’t reveal to her son. There had to be more to the woman than the perfect facade suggested.

“Perhaps, if the right person came along.”

The kettle began to whistle. Soleil retrieved it and poured them each a cup of tea, then returned to the table with the cups.

Julia fiddled with the tea-bag string, looking as though she had something to say, but for a while saying nothing. Then, finally, “Can I tell you a rather embarrassing secret?”

“Of course, if you want to.” If Soleil wasn’t mistaken, she’d swear Julia was blushing now.

“Have you ever seen those online-dating sites? The ones with the pictures and personality descriptions and all that?”

“Sure, who hasn’t?”

“I met a man through one of those sites.”

“Julia! That’s great. Who is he?” The whole idea of West’s mom online dating was so incongruous with Soleil’s image of her, she could hardly wrap her mind around it.

“His name is Frank, and he’s retired, working as an artist now. He owns a little gallery in Guerneville, too.”

“Is that where he lives?”

Julia nodded.

Soleil leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table, smiling to indicate she wanted every juicy detail.