The Fight was in reality an ongoing war with no winner and enormous collateral damage. The worst effect of The Fight was that neither of them could ever fully relax and enjoy their precious little time off. If Sara was watching TV with a glass of wine, Scott would assume that she was slacking off on something that he would have to do instead. And vice versa. When Scott watched football every Saturday in the fall, Sara looked around the house suspiciously thinking that he must be ignoring some of his chores. Sometimes she ran the vacuum during a big game just to be spiteful. He would retaliate by making a big mess of his “hands-off” space, just to make her squirm. Sara also suspected that he often worked late just so he didn’t have to hear about all the things he wasn’t doing right. And on and on The Fight went.
Sometimes it was just easier to give in, and today was one of those days.
As she sighed and turned her attention back to her computer, she got a group text from Elizabeth:
Ladies, this is your official save the date: Carmel, June 1. Heather’s out, but her new cottage is in! Carmen, please be the planner! Pretty please?
Aw, Heather was out. Too bad. She knew their little group of five had its tensions, but it wouldn’t be the same without Heather. Sara was well aware that Martha and Carmen had their issues with Heather, but Sara kind of admired her. She could be difficult, sure, but look at what she had done with her life. It was amazing, really. And Heather had always shared her success with her old friends. When they had all gotten together in Chicago, Heather had put them up at the Four Seasons. Sara had really enjoyed that weekend, even though Martha had gotten bent out of shape when Heather tried to encourage her to stick with her career. Maybe Carmen and Martha were just pea green. Understandable.
Sara responded to Elizabeth’s text:
Of course, I’m in. But I can’t plan it, you guys. I plead temporary insanity. Ha! Get it, it’s a lawyer joke!
HEATHER
From Heather Hall’s Twitter
Heather Hall @therealheatherhall · March 5
Mark your calendars for September 1 #projectlaunch #whatsholdingyouback
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ELIZABETH
After the awkward lunch at Harbor House, Elizabeth spent the rest of the week grinding away as usual. Today was Friday, though, and she didn’t want to spend even one more minute thinking about the office. She needed a little fun and was going to book a surprise vacation for her and William at the end of the month.
Maybe Paris. Whatever the destination, she had already lined up William’s parents to take care of George. She needed the break and couldn’t wait to tell William. And Paris would be a great place to get pregnant.
She was clicking around the Air France website when she heard a familiar—and unwelcome—sound coming through her office door.
“Hey there,” Kenny called.
Elizabeth grimaced and swiveled towards the door. “Hey, Kenny, what’s up?” she asked.
“Well, I was thinking we should get a weekly meeting on the schedule. You know, make sure I’m up to speed and all. Hey, we don’t want to disappoint Joe.”
“Sure, Kenny,” Elizabeth replied tightly. Couldn’t he wait at least a week before trying to take over her job? “Why don’t you speak with my assistant on your way out? Let’s start with monthly and see how it goes.”
“Sounds good,” Kenny said as he slowly eased his way out of her door.
Elizabeth was going to have to keep her eye on him.
CARMEN
It was the first Friday of the month. That meant Carmen was driving down to the city to see her new fertility specialist, Dr. Lee.
Dr. Lee’s office was on the seventy-third floor. She parked and made her way through to the clinic.
“Good morning, Mrs. Jones!” enthused the receptionist. “Please sign in on the iPad and take a seat. Dr. Lee will be with you shortly. The client satisfaction coordinator is at his desk to the left and will be pleased to meet your every need.”
Right, thought Carmen, every need except the most basic one. The need for another baby.
The really frustrating thing was that she was in a group for which no one felt much pity. She already had a baby. She wasn’t childless. And Mark had provided an exceptional quality of life for her and Avery. The relationship wasn’t always great (when Mark managed to find time for it at all), but she wasn’t divorced. And that was something, she supposed.
“Mrs. Jones, your turn,” a young nurse announced.
Carmen was escorted to a beautifully appointed room in the back of the clinic with an acupuncture table at the center. The young nurse took her vitals, reviewed her journal, made some notes, and prepared her for the procedure.
Fifteen minutes later, the needles were sliding in.
“Good afternoon, Carmen,” said Dr. Lee. “How have you been in the last month?”
“The same,” Carmen said. “I’ve been following your instructions. But I can’t say that anything is different.”
“It takes time. And patience. And belief. This process is all about faith. Now try to relax. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. And no phones.” He looked suspiciously at her purse.
Carmen just smiled in response, electing to keep her thoughts about Dr. Lee’s time and faith to herself. It was her strongly held suspicion that for Dr. Lee it was all about the cold hard cash. But she was desperate. And desperate women did desperate things, like treat their body as if it were a pin cushion. She wasn’t sure that any of this would do a thing. But she was willing to give it a try.
None of the doctors had been able to explain why she couldn’t have another baby. Mark had been tested years ago and passed with flying colors. And all of her tests had come back clean. So there was really no explanation. Mark refused to do IUI or IVF or anything else that was on the infertility menu. So Carmen was left with Dr. Lee. But she had socked away some money in the household account and quietly frozen her eggs ten years ago, just in case she really did run out of time.
As Carmen lay on the table and tried to relax, she heard her phone buzz.
Shit.
Trying not to move, she reached her arm down to the floor and felt for her purse. She managed to locate her phone and lifted it above her head to put it on speaker. She couldn’t put it next to her face without hitting one of the needles. It was Martha.
“I’m with Dr. Lee, and I can’t really talk,” she whispered into the receiver.
“But I really need to talk, please?” begged Martha.
“Okay, fine, but be quiet,” hissed Carmen.
As Carmen tried to hold the phone aloft, she listened to Martha’s entire story about the boys, and the dean, and pulling hair, and potty training.
When Martha finally took a breath, Carmen replied, “So we agree then it makes sense to wait a little on the job, right?”
“Yes, I guess,” answered Martha. “I’m just disappointed. You understand.”
“Of course I understand,” said Carmen softly. “Don’t you remember the day I decided to keep Avery? I mean, that was a pretty fucking huge compromise. But it was also my best moment in a lot of ways.”