I resented being put in this position, and certainly didn’t need the pressure.
“Paula, just like I said last time, I can’t keep anything you say from Max.”
“I know, honey,” she said. She’d never called me that, and I wondered if it was an honest outpouring of affection or if she was trying to get on my good side before she broke some even worse news than what she’d told me before.
“Maybe it’s not a good idea at all,” I said.
“I really need to talk. Are you home?”
“Yes.”
“I’m in the driveway.”
Shit!
So much for keeping the pregnancy from her. I ran through all my alternatives, and none of them were good.
I suppose I could have been firm and told her that it wasn’t a good idea for her to be at the house until she talked to Max, but I would still need to do that face to face. Telling her over the phone or through the intercom speaker at the front door would have raised all kinds of new weirdness.
I could have called Max and asked him what he thought I should do, but he was busy, deep into the shooting of the movie, and there was no way I was going to add this to his to-do list.
“You’re here?” I asked, for no other reason than to stall for time.
“Yes, can I please come in? Or could we talk on the front porch, at least? This is really important. I took a chance just stopping by. I wasn’t even sure you were home but I see your car. Why are you home, anyway?”
This was my chance to get out of revealing the fact that I was pregnant, and somehow — pure luck, I suppose — the answer came to me.
“I sprained my ankle.”
“Oh, no. Is it bad?”
“Yeah,” I said, making my way to the front door, unlocking it and heading quickly to the kitchen. As quietly as I could, I put a bunch of ice cubes in a plastic bag, wrapped it in a towel, then made my way to the couch. I reclined, putting my leg up, with the towel-covered bag of ice draped over it. Then I bunched up a blanket, put it over my belly, then added a throw pillow for more bulk, and rested my hand on it. It must have looked ridiculous, but it was the only thing I could come up with on the spot.
“Do you need anything?” she asked.
I sighed. “Just come on in. The door’s unlocked.”
Then I remembered the wedding ring, and slipped it off, placing it under a pile of scripts on the coffee table.
“You leave your door unlocked when Max isn’t here?”
“No, I just unlocked it for you and had to get back to the couch.”
A couple of minutes later, she was standing in front of me, eyeing my wrapped ankle and insisting that I let her make me lunch.
“It’s fine, really,” I said. I hated being deceptive with her, but I really had no choice. I couldn’t go behind Max’s back and let his mother know that she was about to be a grandmother. That was up to Max, on his terms, on his own timing.
It was uncomfortable seeing her again, and I know she felt the same way toward me. I wanted this to be over with as quickly as possible, so I told her I was waiting on an important phone call and that I’d probably be tied up for the better part of an hour once the call came in.
“Okay,” she said, “I understand. I know you two are very busy. Max is probably lost without you on the set.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.”
She fidgeted for a moment, then said directly: “I told Max’s father I couldn’t speak with him anymore.”
Now, that I was not expecting. I had been sure she was going to try to get me to talk to Max, soften him up, and help her get him to understand. But this was a much welcome turn of events.
I almost moved enough to dislodge the blanket and pillow covering my baby bump, but I managed to control myself. “Really,” I said flatly, almost shocked.
She nodded. “I think what happened was…” She began to tear up, but I couldn’t move toward her to comfort her. “Sorry,” she said, regaining her composure. “I think I wanted normalcy in my life again, and for a long time that’s what he was for me. But that longing for nostalgia wore off. It’s actually been several weeks. It was just now that I decided to eat crow and come over here.”
“You don’t have to be ashamed, Paula. I’m just glad you came over and told me. You should talk to Max as soon as possible.” I was thinking it would be great for the two of them to smooth things over, but also I was thinking about my pregnancy and the fact that all of this secrecy was getting ridiculous. “Call him, please?”
“Will you let him know I’m calling, and why? I doubt he’ll answer his phone.”
“He’ll answer your call,” I said. “He always would have and always will.”
. . . . .
Max got home around midnight later that night, after seeing Paula. I was sitting in the den watching a documentary about earthquakes when he walked in.
“I can’t believe I haven’t experienced one since I moved here,” I said.
Max collapsed on the couch next to me. “You have.”
“That was a tiny one. You said so yourself.”
He was talking about a minor quake that happened one afternoon when we were leaving The Ivy, a restaurant in Beverly Hills. The ground didn’t quite shake, it was more like a quick vibration, and I initially thought it was construction related.
“Trust me,” Max was saying as I turned off the TV, “you don’t want to feel a big one.” And as soon as he said it, his eyebrows rose. “Or…do you?” He leaned over and kissed me on the lips.
“Later,” I said. “You’re not getting any action until you tell me how it went.”
And so he told me that after his mother called, they agreed to meet at a restaurant not far from her house. Max suggested it, thinking that it might be better to meet in public to keep the emotions in check.
Paula told him everything right off the bat, including the explanation that she had shared with me. He said the conversation about his father was short. They didn’t dwell on it. Paula wanted to know everything that Max had been up to while they weren’t speaking, and told him even though it was a relatively short time, she felt like she hadn’t spoken with him in years.
Max brought her up to speed on the movie, and all things related to his professional life.
Luckily for him, I had reminded him to take off his wedding band before seeing Paula. So he didn’t reveal the fact that he was married.