saved—her. When he finally looked up, she could see herself again in his dark eyes; her hair was ruffled and she looked seventeen, and beautiful.
“My being sick had nothing to do with you,” she said. “From what I remember about kissing, you’re a good kisser.” She tried to laugh but no sound came out and he kept his head down. “I always feel sick like that when I’m going to have a baby.”
“You’re pregnant?” he said, and when she saw how dead his eyes looked she knew that she had been careless and mean without even suspecting it. Marriage had done that to her, she thought. Marriage had made her feel so safe and inviolate that she had felt free to let some man drive her around without ever thinking about how he might feel. It had made her secure enough to be surly with her husband and to ridicule his family. Once she had thought being married would make her part of a group, but instead it seemed to have made her a person so complete that she could refuse to look outside her own borders. Or maybe this was how she had become whole, by doing something selfish and wrong, just for herself, just so she could see herself in the mirror for the first time in her life and say: Ah. There you are.
“I thought you knew,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
She supposed that was how it looked to someone from the outside when you complained about your life, when you were lonely and confused. It looked as if you were ready to leave, as if you were looking for something else. She knew that was how Monica would think of her own marriage, would think that something you were forced to do, something that you hated sometimes, could not be something you might want. But she would be wrong to think that.
In the back seat the baby started making the wet sucking noises that meant he was waking up. Connie closed the door on her side. “I need to get home,” she said softly, and she smiled at him.
“You drive,” he said, and he looked out the window again, his chin in his hand.
When they pulled into the driveway, Maggie was sitting on the front steps. When she saw her mother she went inside. Connie thought again about how marriage could make you feel safe enough to hurt people without even knowing it.
“I’ll come and get you for the test next week,” Joey said.
“I don’t think so,” Connie said. “I think I’ll go myself.”
“You can’t do that. You can’t drive without a licensed driver.”
“I’ll get Celeste,” Connie said. “Or Tommy.”
“I’m sorry,” Joey said. “I really feel like a jerk.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” Connie said.
“Yeah.”
Connie lifted Joseph out of the back seat. “You’re not a jerk,” she said. “You’re a great guy. I meant what I said about being a good kisser, too. You’re going to make somebody a terrific husband.”
His face hardened, and for the first time that afternoon, he looked mean. “You sound like my mother,” he said, and there was no humor in his voice.
“That’s a good way to think of me.”
“No. I meant what I said. I don’t care about the other thing. About the baby.”
“It’s a pretty major problem,” said Connie with a tight smile.
“It didn’t feel like a major problem back there,” Joey replied, and Connie felt that warmth again.
“I’m a married woman.” Connie could hear the quaver in her voice.
“You didn’t feel so married back there. Admit it, Connie; you made a mistake. You and I, we’re the same kind of person.”
“I’m not sure what kind of person I am,” Connie said.
“You’re the kind of person who should be appreciated. You’re not the kind of person who should be treated like some kind of outsider.”
“Maybe I’ll always be some kind of an outsider,” she said. “Maybe that’s the kind of person I am.” She turned and began to walk into the house. When she looked back over her shoulder, he was staring at her. “Thanks for teaching me to drive,” she said.
“That’s not enough,” he said, starting the engine. He leaned out of the window.
“I’m coming back,” he said.
“We forgot the sawhorses.”
“I’m not coming back for any sawhorses. I’m coming back for you. I’d worry about taking you away from the Scanlans, but they never had you in the first place.”
Connie looked at him levelly. “I’m a married woman,” she repeated.
“Arrivederci, Concetta Mazza,” Joey said, and he peeled out of