Doc pulled me into another room-their bedroom-sitting on the edge of the bed with me, an arm around my shoulder as I sobbed against his chest. He didn’t shush me, he just let me cry, his arms encircling me tightly until, slowly, my tears ended with long, hitching breaths.
“Want to talk about it?” Doc asked softly.
I shook my head, looking down at my hands, but I did. I talked anyway. I told Doc about my relationship with Ronnie. About seeing her with Vince. About my perfect solution and its imperfect dissolution. Because Ronnie didn’t want to share. Instead, she decided to choose. And she chose someone else.
“Why didn’t she choose me?” I asked softly, my breath still hitching in my chest. “What’s wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart,” he assured me. “Nothing, Gretchen, I promise you.”
“Then why?” I wailed.
“I don’t know.” He sighed, his arm tightening around my shoulder. I felt his lips brush the top of my forehead, soft, tender. “Some people are just too afraid of who they really are to embrace a bigger life.”
A bigger life. I liked the sound of that.
“Did you love Ronnie?” I sniffed, lifting my head to meet his eyes. I had never told them that I knew, but he saw it in my eyes.
“Yes.” He nodded slowly, answering me honestly. “We both did. Carrie and I. Ronnie is easy to love.”
“I know.” My lower lip quivered. “I loved her too.”
“But she’s so young,” he reminded me, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“So am I.” I was only twenty-six. Ronnie was five years younger than me.
“She’s young in a different way,” Doc countered. “Ronnie is naive.”
“Not anymore.” I snorted.
“Just because she’s more sexually experienced doesn’t make her any less naive,” Doc said. “Do you know what I think? I think Ronnie will find someone. Maybe this guy. Maybe the next. Or the one after that. And she’ll settle down and she’ll have kids. And she’ll start to realize that her life isn’t quite complete. There’s something missing. Someone.”
I sniffed. “It’ll be too late.”
“For you and her, probably. But Gretchen, you already know who you are. You know what you want. You’re already ten steps ahead of her. And by the time Ronnie realizes who she is, time will be her enemy.”
“How do you know all this?” I lifted my head to meet his eyes. They were brown, dark and deep and kind.
“Experience.” He smiled.
“Thanks,” I whispered. It was hard being alone in the world, and knowing that the Baumgartners were open-minded and loving and really cared-it meant a lot.
“Any time.” He stood, holding a hand out to me. “I think those are the fireworks. Or else Carrie’s finally decided to kill the children.”
“We better get out there.” I laughed, letting him help me off the bed.
I excused myself to wash my face in the bathroom, hearing the boom of fireworks again. I glanced out the window to see the pink sparkle just fading in the sky. I wondered if Doc would tell Mrs. B everything, and realized, of course he would. They were married. I had told Ronnie everything and we weren’t even officially a couple. Even if it had felt like we were.
Downstairs, I joined the festivities. Parents sat in lawn chairs with bottles of beer or wine coolers while kids ran around in the grass with sparklers, making patterns and writing their names in the air. I saw Doc sitting next to Mrs. B, their heads bent, talking together.
“Gretchen, come do sparklers!” Henry appeared at my elbow, grabbing my hand and dragging me through the crowded backyard. I wasn’t the only nanny present-Kim Lowe was another nanny in charge of sparklers. She was sitting in a lawn chair, lighting them and handing them out to the kids, who took off running.
“Hi.” She smiled at me, nodding to the empty chair beside her. Kim was a tiny, pretty oriental girl with the smallest hands and feet I’d ever seen on a grown adult.
I sat in the lawn chair and helped her light sparklers as the crowd ooohed and ahhhed over the big fireworks overhead. I just kept thinking that Ronnie was supposed to be here. Mrs. B had asked me to invite her, and although Ronnie had hesitated when I asked, she said she’d come. And now she was gone. She was probably somewhere over on that riverbank, sharing a blanket with Vince and his monster cock.
“Gretchen, look!” Henry grinned, writing obscenities with his sparkler, misspelling “fuck” as “fok.”
“Henry,” I warned and he rolled his eyes, going back to making figure-eights.
“Come sit with me on the blanket, Gretchen.” Janie came over, no sparkler in hand. “Sparklers are for babies. Let’s watch the big fireworks.”
So I followed Janie over to the blanket and Henry soon joined us on the ground, all piled up in a heap as more and more kids joined in, abandoning sparklers in favor of the big pyrotechnics show going on in the sky. It was a beautiful display, and the finale at the end made everyone cheer and clap.
Then the neighbors gathered their kids and started saying their goodbyes. I steered two overtired kids toward the house, smiling at Doc and Mrs. B as I passed.
“I’ll get them to bed,” I called. They were playing host and hostess, wishing everyone a good night.
Once the kids were in their pajamas and had brushed their teeth, I tucked them in. Janie was sleeping almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. I kissed her forehead and pulled up her blanket, leaving the door slightly cracked on my way out. Henry was awake but sleepy, his eyes half-closed when I came in to shut out the light. I smiled, seeing an old squirt bottle of “monster spray”-a trick I used back when he was afraid there were monsters under his bed or in his closet-sitting on his dresser. He didn’t ask for it anymore, but it was still there anyway, just in case.
“No more profanity, Henry,” I warned, brushing his dark hair from his eyes. He was a little mini-Doc in a lot of ways. “Got it?”
“What’s profanity?”
“Swearing.”
“Oh.” He grinned sheepishly. “Okay. Sorry.”
“Goodnight, Henry.”
“Goodnight.”
I shut out the light, leaving his door cracked too. Mrs. B insisted, just in case they called out in the middle of the night, because the Baumgartners’ bedroom was all the way upstairs. I made my way down the hallway, through the big, open kitchen, into the family room. I looked through the French doors onto the patio, seeing the crowd had dispersed. Doc and Mrs. B were sitting in lawn chairs, talking. I went outside, starting to pick up empty cans and bottles, holding the recycling bin against my hip as I went.
“Gretchen,” Mrs. B called, waving me over. “Leave it. Come here.”
“I’m just cleaning up.” I squatted to pick up two wine coolers leaning against the leg of one of the lawn chairs.
“Don’t worry about it tonight,” Doc said, waving me over too.
“We’ll get it in the morning,” Mrs. B assured me. “Come on, have a seat. We want to talk to you.”
I put the recycling bin on one of the chairs, walking slowly over to where they were sitting. They looked serious, too serious, and I was suddenly nervous.
“Am I getting fired?”
“No!” Doc. laughed. “Of course not!”
“Doc told me about you and Ronnie.” Mrs. B reached out, taking my hand. Hers was soft, tender, as she pulled me toward the third chair. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” I sank into the lawn chair across from the two of them.
“We’ve been talking,” Doc said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, fingers tented. “And we’d like to you to stay.”
“Oh.” I looked around at the mess all over the lawn, empty bottles and cans, junk food wrappers, used sparklers and fireworks wrappers. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it. I can stay the night and help you clean up in the morning.”
“No, Gretchen.” Mrs. B smiled, shaking her head, leaning forward again to take my hand in hers. “We want you to stay. Here. Full-time.”