Barnegat Bay - 18. Chapter 18

By March, in my examining room, Mary clearly looked seven months pregnant, and she was already in her eighth month. Still, dressed, she could pass for six.

“Gonna be an athlete,” my father joked. “That’ll be a first in our family.”

“Oh, come on,” I objected. “Ben knows his way with a bat and ball. And I know my way around a boat.”

“Not the same as being a weight lifter,” Dad cracked on. “And this little one’s gonna to be a bruiser.”

“What if she’s a girl?”

He only needed to think for a moment. “Twins.”

That was one thing I knew the baby wasn’t – I could only hear one heart, and it was strong. Fortunately, the baby was healthy.

“You’re sure?” Mary asked.

“As much as I am of anything.”

“And you’re pretty sure of yourself,” she poked.

“In some ways.”

“Sure enough to tell the gang?”

I took a deep breath. “Do we have a choice?”

Actually, we did. If we’d stayed out of sight till New Year’s, we could do it again till Memorial Day, when Mary was planning to reopen her aunt’s store. She’d just take the baby with her.

“It might be an attraction,” she suggested. “Bring in all the women. And by June, I should be able to work.”

“Unless the baby’s late.”

“The later it is, the less we have to explain.”

“Except why you’re going back to work.”

“I’ll blame your mother,” she said, smiling. “Or credit her.”

“She’d love that.”

“It’s just not hard work, Doc. I’m only selling clothes.”

I couldn’t deny that. “Still, we don’t really have to tell the guys. It’s not like they’re around all the time.”

“They’re busy looking for work,” Claire put in. By that point, she’d joined us.

“They’d find out,” Mary said.

“How? They don’t want to be on Barnegat. They said they’d take almost any other jobs.”

“And how lucky have they been in finding them?” Claire asked.

“Not at all, unfortunately. But Roosevelt just took office. He’ll need some time.”

“That could put the guys back on Barnegat,” Mary insisted. “You know what Mike said in their last note.”

“Gloomy Mike. And not at all like him.”

“He said the hotel asked if they wanted to be lifeguards again. They were obviously well liked.”

“Did only girls vote?”

“And they had a couple of weeks to decide. So if nothing turns up, they’ll be back on the beach, at least weekends, by mid-May.”

“That’s still before you’ll get there,” I pointed out. “And if you only work during the week before then, helping your aunt clean and restock, we’ll be safe till the end of the month.”

“I still think we should tell them,” Mary said. “If only that I’m having a baby.”

Then she needed to think about that.

“I could simply not work this summer,” she finally decided. “I’d miss it, but if I told my aunt now, she’d have time to find someone else.”

“And train her as well?” Claire asked.

“She has part-time high school girls in Toms River. They’d be thrilled at the chance.”

“And be as dependable?”

“Why not? I was only in tenth grade when she started trusting me alone.”

“But you’d worked with her since what? – sixth grade?”

“Maybe earlier.”

“Four extra summers.”

“At least, three. Though I was only alone for a couple of days each week. She was always coming down.”

“Until she trusted you. And the same thing might not happen with another girl.”

“Maybe,” Mary admitted.

“Plus, you’re family,” Claire finished. “If something went wrong, she could always go to your parents.”

Mary didn’t want to argue that, and I had to stay out of the discussion – the two of them knew more of their history than I did. Still, we decided not to say anything to the guys until we were sure of their plans.

It didn’t sound like a good bet. There were four of them, and even if three suddenly found work, that would leave one at the beach. And he’d see the baby and quickly tell the others.

“What if it’s Spence?” Mary asked. “And if we told him the truth? Wouldn’t he be less likely to tell the guys?”

That had been one of our steady questions since Mary told me she was pregnant. “What about Spence?” It was something the three of us talked about back and forth.

“Are we making the right choice?”

“Are we getting things too complicated?”

“Are we making this too hard on ourselves?”

Mary’s answer always came back to, “I want him to graduate first – without pressure.”

And school didn’t finish till mid-June, even if he was working on Barnegat sooner.

“After that, we can tell him anything,” she went on. “And maybe he’ll help us decide what to tell the others.”

“It’s a good idea,” Claire admitted, and I agreed.

“So first, we find out if any of them will be on Barnegat,” I summarized. “Then we see who. Then we decide.”

They nodded their heads.

“It’s only two more weeks,” Mary counted. “We can wait.”

But when the news came, it wasn’t good – for the guys.

“Looks like we’ll be itchy and wet again,” Al wrote.

“And half-dressed,” Mike grumbled in the margin.

“Nothing else has come up,” Larry scribbled. “And we’d be idiots to turn down the money.”

“Even if it’s pennies.”

“At least, we have no expenses.”

“Except girls,” Mike cracked – at least, we thought it was him. It sounded like something he’d write.

Claire almost sighed. “We have to tell them. But all at once?”

“That would be easier,” Mary said. “And since they’re used to hearing from us almost every week, we can slip in the news.”

“And ignore the fact we’ve been holding out? For months?”

“We don’t have to tell them how soon.”

“They’ll find out quickly enough. As soon as they come to celebrate.”

“They’re not very far,” I warned.

“An easy subway ride.”

“Or bus.”

“I can always tell them you’re already on Barnegat.”

“It’s too soon.”

“Then I’ll say you’re visiting Toms River. We can actually tell them anything we want. As long as they don’t see you.”

“You make me sound diseased.”

So Claire wrote them first – saying she had good news to balance their possibly miserable summer. She mailed the letter from Toms River when she got back from the weekend, and we figured we were safe till Wednesday or Thursday. Then Mary picked up the office phone on Thursday afternoon, and Mike and Larry were singing.

“Congratulations to you!

Congratulations to you!

Congratulations Mary and Doc-oc!

Congratulations to you!”

“Who is this please?” Mary asked calmly – as if she didn’t know.

“It’s the stork!” Mike screamed, and in the background, Al and Larry were cackling. Then came a lot of questions.

“When did you find out?”

“How long’ve you been hiding this?”

“When’s the baby due?”

“Have you picked a name?”

“Two names, you dope.”

“Have you picked two names?”

“Have you…”

“Did you…”

“Can you…”

“Will you...”

Mary said the questions came too fast for her to hear, let alone answer or remember them to repeat to Claire and me. The guys didn’t seem to expect answers anyway – they mostly wanted to make noise. Finally, Spence cut in.

“Guys,” he said. “If you want answers, you’ve got to let her speak.”

“Who wants answers?” Larry shot. “We know how to make a baby!”

“And how much fun it is!”

“We just want to be part of that!”

“Hats off!”

“Yah-hoo!”

“Jesus H. Christ!”

“You’re going to Hell for that,” Larry warned Mike.

“That’s okay. This is terrific!”

“It really is,” Spence admitted quietly. “When can we see you?”

At that point, Mary had to be careful.

“Pretty soon,” she told them. “I know you’re all busy, studying and looking for work. And Al wrote that you’ve just finished mid-terms and have your finals and final projects ahead. And then you have graduation, and before that, you’ll going back and forth to Barnegat...”

“So ‘Not soon,’” Mike cut through.

“It’s not like I’m having the baby tomorrow,” Mary lied. “There’s nothing to see. You’d be disappointed.”

“We’re never disappointed seeing you – and Doc,” Mike quickly added.

“That’s very sweet.”

“And it’s our being morons for not seeing you more often.”

“It is.”

“We know you’ve been busy,” Mary assured them. “And so have Doc and Claire.”

“And you?”

“I just sit here reading movie magazines.”

The guys laughed.

“We bet.”

“Anyway, finish your classes – and your tests. And keep looking for jobs. And we’ll see you all on Barnegat.”

“You’re coming?”

“Where else would I go?”

“But...”

And for a moment, Mary said the guys seemed to ponder the sanctity of motherhood. Then she just laughed and told them, “It’s not like babies can’t cross water. Even newborns.”

“That was clever,” Claire agreed.

“It gave us two extra months. That makes eight, if you start from October.”

“Better than six-and-a-half,” I admitted, while acknowledging it was Mary’s biggest lie.

“And I told them you’d be on Barnegat, weekends,” she went on. “And Claire would be around. And they said they were committed to the jobs and had stopped looking for anything else till September.”

“We’ll be at the beach,” Larry repeated. “Meanwhile, we’ll be good little pupils.”

“Students,” Mike corrected. “Pupils just sit there.”

“I’ll graduate any way I can.”

“Says the guy with the best grades.”

“This is costing money, guys,” Spence reminded them.

“My parents can always spare me an extra nickel,” Larry assured him. “And how often does Mary have a baby?”

“Not that often,” Mary promised.

“Well, this one’s gonna be great,” Larry assured her.

“And named after me – Michael Devin Christopher Luke – Michelle, if she’s a girl.”

“Michelle Denise Christina Louise,” Larry improvised.

“I’ve really got to go,” Mary insisted. “This is Doc’s office phone.”

“If it’s important, the operator will come on.”

“I do more than answer calls.”

“Okay! Okay!” Mike fake grumbled. “We’re just trying to congratulate our friends. ”

“And Doc and I appreciate it.”

“We’ll see you on Memorial Day.”

“It’ll be just like the Fourth.”

“Except someone’s already shot off the fireworks.”

“Mike!” Larry howled. “Don’t you have any manners!”

But Mary and Mike were already laughing. And they soon took the others with them. Finally, Al shouted, “Goodbye!” and started to hang up. But Mary still heard Mike yelling, “You’re Going To Have A Baby!”

“That takes care of that,” I told her that evening. “We’re cornered.”

She smiled and said she’d already spoken with Claire. “It’s a toll call, I know – an extravagance. But I had to.”

“I would’ve done the same.”

“And I really think we’re all right till they see the baby – and see how big it is. And start counting.”

“Maybe we’ll tell Spence before that.”

“To be honest, I’m not even thinking about that. We going to have a baby!”