not before Weezy was convinced that she was anemic or possibly had some kind of cancer, because it just wasn’t normal to have so little energy.
Max called her at least three times a day. He called to report on doctor’s appointments and to ask her questions and to tell her what was happening. She knew that he was looking for reassurance. He’d been the same way as a little boy, needing to talk about things, needing to hear someone say that things were going to work out.
She talked to him whenever he called. She was happy to. At least this wouldn’t tear their family apart, right? She felt righteous and good when they talked. She suggested that he and Cleo start taking walks for exercise, because it was never too early to start thinking about keeping in shape for the baby. Yes, she was happy to talk to him. But she did wonder if possibly that was what was taking all of her energy.
When she woke up in the mornings, her limbs felt heavy. She tried to explain this to Will, who suggested that it was just a reaction to Max’s news. (That’s what he was calling the whole thing. He hadn’t said the words pregnant and baby at all.)
“I think I should see a doctor,” she told him. She was still lying in bed when she said this.
Will turned to look at her. “Maybe,” he said. “Or you could just give yourself some time to get used to this.”
“Maybe there’s a gas leak in the house,” she said. There had to be something, some reason why her body felt like this.
“If there was a leak, wouldn’t we all feel sick?” Will asked. Weezy had sighed and rolled over on her side. It was the kind of comment that could make you really hate Will.
Maureen brought soup over after Weezy told her on the phone that she was coming down with something. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s bad. A virus of some kind.”
When Maureen arrived, she found Weezy sitting on the couch in her pajamas and robe. She arranged the soup without saying a word, and then the two of them sat and watched some talk shows.
One morning a couple of weeks after Thanksgiving, Weezy walked down the stairs and surveyed the house. She decided that she’d do one thing every day to get ready for Christmas. How hard could it be to do one thing? She stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked all around. Dozens of little turkeys smiled at her from all around the house, sending her right back upstairs to bed. They all had such creepy gobbles, and she couldn’t face that today. She could start tomorrow.
One day, she managed to arrange all the Santas that she’d collected over the years on the mantel, and then she’d gone over to the couch and lay there, staring at them. She’d cried a little bit, because her heart was breaking for her Max and she really didn’t know what would happen.
Will brought the tree up from the basement and put on the lights, and the girls hung the ornaments. (They’d gone to a fake tree a few years ago, when getting a real tree seemed like too much of a hassle. Claire and Max had both protested, saying that it was pointless to put up a piece of plastic. Weezy tried to tell them that the pine-scented candles would make it seem like the real thing without all the needles on the floor that couldn’t be vacuumed up no matter what. Even in April, she’d still be finding them hidden behind furniture and under rugs. This year she was even more grateful that the tree was in their basement, or they might not have had one at all.)
She didn’t know how she was going to manage to buy presents and she put it off, until it was the week before Christmas and she had no more time to waste. She got in the car and drove to the mall. It was cold, but there was no snow on the ground, so she could be grateful for that.
For the first time in her life that she could remember, Weezy had no Christmas list with her when she shopped. She walked into department stores and bought generic gifts, scarves and mittens. She shopped in groups. When she found something she liked for one of the girls, she bought three of them. Will and Max got