need to be on our best behavior.”
It should have made her feel better during those moments, that Will would step in and run interference, that her kids were so willing to put on a smile to appease her. But whenever she came downstairs, it just made her feel left out, like she was the moody member of the team, that needed special treatment, and they had all kept going without her. Will always looked so satisfied, like he thought that he could take over with the kids. He was so pleased that he could handle them for all of thirty minutes, and it didn’t make her feel better—it made her angry, made her feel like she wasn’t even a part of this family that she was running.
ONE WEDNESDAY, WILL HAD CALLED from his office to suggest they go to dinner. “Somewhere nice,” he said. “Just the adults.”
It occurred to Weezy that their children were now adults too, that there were really four adults living full-time in this house, soon to be six. But she didn’t say that.
“I don’t know,” she said. “There’s so much to do.” Really, the thought of washing her hair and finding something to wear out seemed overwhelming. But Will had insisted.
They’d gone to Pesce, a seafood restaurant that was a favorite of theirs. Usually it was saved for anniversaries or birthdays.
“Well, this is fancy,” Weezy said, when they pulled into the parking lot.
“I thought you deserved a nice night out,” Will said.
They walked in and were seated at a corner table. The restaurant was dark and the table had a small votive in the center, as if that would be enough to help people see. Will ordered a Scotch and Weezy ordered red wine. It came in an oversized glass, the kind that almost looks like a bucket, which pleased her. She took a few sips and felt the warmth in her chest and stomach.
“I’ve been worried about you,” Will said. “Because you’ve been so worried about everything. You’re going to collapse if you keep this up.”
Weezy sighed. “I have to worry. Just for a little while. Just until things settle down.”
Will nodded and tilted his glass to the left and right, causing the ice cubes to clink against one another. “You’re a fantastic mother,” he said. He raised his glass. “To you.”
He and Weezy clinked glasses and then took a sip. Weezy wanted to tell him how strange it was that she felt so energized lately. How for the past few years, she’d felt like there was nothing surprising to look forward to—that is, until Claire had gotten engaged, but then that had all gone to hell. Her children were mostly grown, they’d gone off to college, and she had just been waiting, stalled really, for the next stage of her life to start. And she thought that it was far away, many years down the line.
But then this had happened. And, of course, she was not pleased at first. Disappointed, really. Embarrassed, for sure. But once that went away, once she dealt with that, she was excited. She couldn’t admit that to herself for a long time, but it was the truth. She was needed again. Max needed her and Cleo needed her. She was useful. And there was going to be a baby.
She thought of how to explain this to Will, who was looking at her with a mix of concern and pity. He felt bad for her! He still thought she was the martyr who was putting everything aside to help their child. So she didn’t say anything except, “It’s what any mother would do.”
Will reached out and patted her hand, leaving his to rest on top for a few moments. “That’s not true,” he said. “It’s what you do. And so you deserve a night out.”
With that, he took his hand back and opened the menu. “Good God, can you see any of this?” He squinted and brought the menu close to his face, then picked up the votive and held it next to it. “I can’t see a thing!”
Weezy pulled the magnifying card that Will had given her a few years earlier out of her purse. It had lights on the side to help as well. He’d put it in her stocking as a surprise one Christmas, as a joke about their old age. But lately she’d really had to use it. It had become their custom for Weezy to look through her menu with it, reading aloud the things