The Weeks Between • HS

February 2021 • Nola

I'm nursing Hattie before bed on the eve of Harry's birthday, wondering what his plans are for the big day tomorrow. I know he's filming in California because there have been pictures of him on set and pictures of him out with people in the movie, usually just Florence. From the little I got to know of her, she seems really genuine, so I get it. The point is, he doesn't look like he's too heartbroken about my absence in the pictures I've seen, but I also know how good he is at putting on a happy face for the camera.

I've had a month now to get used to the idea that I'm pregnant and that the baby isn't Harry's. It's taken just about as long to not become physically ill when I see pictures of him, so until recently I've avoided my phone, computer and TV, choosing to spend my time reading some of the French novels on the shelf at grandma Collette's. Unfortunately, the French (or perhaps just my grandma) are obsessed with romantic stories with endings that only play out in most people's fantasies. I guess at least someone is getting their happy ending, even if it's only between pages of the books I've been reading.

As I lay down Hattie in her crib, her little brother lets me know that he is no where near ready to settle in for the evening. Seems this little one is proving to be quite the night owl. So, I make my way back downstairs to get a midnight snack, and settle into a chair in the solarium with my most recent French romance novel. I read until well past midnight in the space lit with a single lamp, enjoying the large windows displaying the starry night sky. When it seems my permanent companion has fallen asleep in my womb, I close the book and turn out the lamp. As I stand in the darkened space, I say a quick Happy Birthday to Harry hoping that the universe might deliver it to him for me.

•••••

The day after Harry's birthday, my wake up call is earlier than I expected.

----- Call from Albert ----

"Harry visited us tonight." I realize that it's about 10pm, on his birthday, in California. 

"It was his birthday," I admit and I can hear Helen gasp in the background. Obviously he didn't share that little tidbit with them and now she feels awful for not wishing him a Happy Birthday even though she didn't know about it. "What did he want?"

"What do you think he wanted, sugar?" Albert says, clearly unamused with my line of questioning. He gently offers, "he wanted to know about you."

"But you didn't tell him anything, did you?" I ask, praying that they didn't. I'm not ready to face him yet. Actually, I'm kind of hoping that I just don't have to. EVER.

"We didn't, but he seems really torn up. Same as you do."

"You know what the situation is. No matter what I say, I can't tell him that it is Luke's baby, so all he is going to hear is that it isn't his and then he'll walk away. I can't say that I can blame him for doing so, either."

"There has to be another way," Helen says with hope in her voice.

"I wish there was, but there's just not. So, I'm trying to focus on being a mom. I enrolled the girls in a French preschool here, seeing as I'm a French citizen and it is mandatory for all children over the age of three."

"When do you plan to come back to California?"

"I'll probably come to California once I know Harry is filming in England. Before that, I have to go and close down the London house. Grandma Collette is planning to sell it in late spring." I then start to just speak my thoughts. "I'm guessing she will sell it to Harry, so I could just ask him to put my things in the garage and get them later, but I'd rather be done with it. And I'm sure he'd rather not deal with it."