Part 38 (1/2)

”You say that every time you see me,” I told him.

”You do,” he insisted. ”Much healthier.”

And it was true. With three meals a day, plus snacks, I was quickly regaining my old prediet Anna Nicole Smith proportions. And I continued to welcome the changes. I could see it all differently now. My legs were st.u.r.dy and strong, not fat or ungainly. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s now had a purpose besides stretching out my sweaters and making it hard to find a non-beige bra. Even my waist and hips, riddled with silvery stretch marks, suggested strength, and told a story. I might be a big girl, I reasoned, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world. I was a safe harbor and a soft place to rest. Built for comfort, not for speed, I thought, and giggled at myself. Peter smiled at me. ”Much healthier,” he said again.

”They'll kick you out of the weight-loss center if it gets out about your telling me that,” I said.

He shrugged as if it didn't matter. ”I think you look fine. I always did,” he said. My mother was beaming. I shot her a mind-your-own-business look and settled Joy in my lap.

”So,” I said, ”what brings you to these parts?”

”Actually,” he said, ”I was wondering if you and Joy would like to go for a ride.”

I felt my chest tighten again. Joy and I hadn't gone anywhere in the car since her arrival, except for checkups at the hospital. ”Where to?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

”Down the sh.o.r.e,” he said, using the typical Philadelphia construction. ”Just for a little drive.”

It sounded nice. It also sounded absolutely terrifying. ”I'm not sure,” I said regretfully. ”I'm not sure she's ready.”

”She's not ready, or you're not ready?” asked my helpful mother. I sent her an even more intense mind-your-own-business look.

”I'll be there,” Peter said. ”So you'll have medical a.s.sistance, if you need it.”

”Go on, Cannie,” said my mother.

”It'll be good for you,” urged Tanya.

I stared at him. He smiled at me. I sighed, knowing I was defeated. ”Just a short ride,” I said, and he nodded, eager as a schoolboy, and stood up to help me.

Of course, it took a while- forty-five minutes, to be precise, and three bags full of diapers, hats, socks, sweaters, stroller, bottles, blankets, and a.s.sorted baby paraphernalia, all shoved in the trunk- before we were ready to leave. Then Joy got stowed in the infant seat, I sat on the pa.s.senger's side, Peter took the wheel, and we headed down to the Jersey sh.o.r.e.

Peter and I talked a little at first- about his job, about Lucy and Maxi and how Andy'd actually gotten a death threat after savaging one of Philadelphia's famous old fish-houses that had been coasting on its reputation and so-so snapper soup for decades. Then, when we turned on to the Atlantic City Expressway, he smiled at me and touched a b.u.t.ton on the dashboard, and the roof over our heads slid away.

”A moon roof!” I said, impressed.

”Thought you'd like it!” he shouted back.

I looked back at Joy, tucked snug in her infant seat, wondering if the wind would be too much. But she actually looked like she was enjoying it. The little pink ribbon I'd tied in her hair, so that everyone would know she was a girl, was bobbing in the breeze, and her eyes were wide open.

We drove to Ventnor and parked in a lot two blocks from the beach. Peter unfolded Joy's complicated carriage while I got her out of the car, wrapped her in more blankets than the warm September day merited, and set her into the carriage. We walked slowly down to the water, me pus.h.i.+ng, Peter walking beside me. The suns.h.i.+ne felt wonderful, thick as honey on my shoulders, making my hair glow.

”Thank you,” I said. He shrugged and looked embarra.s.sed.

”I'm glad you like it,” he said.

We walked on the boardwalk- up for twenty minutes, back for another twenty, because I'd decided I didn't want Joy outside for more than an hour. Except the salt air didn't seem to be bothering her. She'd fallen fast asleep, her little rosebud mouth slack, her pink ribbon coming unfurled, and her fine brown hair curling around her cheeks. I leaned close to hear her breathing, and to check her diaper. She was fine.

Peter returned to my side with a blanket in his arms. ”Want to sit on the beach?” he asked.

I nodded. He unfolded the blanket, I unstrapped Joy, and we walked down close to the water and sat there, watching the waves break. I worked my toes into the warm sand, and stared at the white foam, the blue-green depths, the black edge of the ocean against the horizon, and thought of all the things I couldn't see: sharks and bluefish and starfish, whales singing to each other, secret lives that I would never know.

Peter draped another blanket over my shoulders, and let his hands linger there for a few seconds.

”Cannie,” he began. ”I want to tell you something.”

I gave him what I hoped was an encouraging smile.

”That day on Kelly Drive, when you and Samantha were walking,” he said, and cleared his throat.

”Right,” I said. ”Go on.”

”Well,” he said. ”I, um... I'm not actually a jogger.”

I looked at him, confused.

”I just... well, I remember how in cla.s.s you used to say you went on bike rides there, and you'd go for walks, and I didn't feel that I could call you...”

”So you started jogging?”

”Every day,” he confessed. ”Morning and night, and sometimes on my lunch hour. Until I saw you.”

I sat back, surprised by the extent of his dedication, knowing that if it were me, no matter how much I felt that I wanted to see the other person, it probably wouldn't be enough to get me to jog. ”I, um, have s.h.i.+nsplints now,” he mumbled, and I burst out laughing.

”It serves you right!” I said. ”You could've just called me...”

”But I couldn't,” he said. ”First of all, you were a patient...”

”Was a patient,” I said.

”And you were, um...”

”Pregnant with another man's child,” I supplied.

”You were oblivious!” he exclaimed. ”Completely oblivious! That was the worst part! There I was, mooning after you, giving myself s.h.i.+nsplints...”

I giggled some more.

”And first you were sad about Bruce, who even I could tell wasn't right for you...”

”You were hardly objective,” I told him, but he wasn't through.

”And then you were in California, and that wasn't right for you, either”

”California's very nice,” I said, in California's defense.

He sat down next to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me and Joy tightly against him. ”I thought you were never coming home,” he said. ”I couldn't stand it. I thought I'd never see you again, and I didn't know what to do with myself.”