Something Blue

dumped her two days ago.' Claire looked up smugly. 'How's that for hot off the presses?'

Claire loved being the first to get a scoop.

'Why'd they break up?' I asked. 'Did Josh catch his best friend hiding in Amanda's closet?'

Claire chuckled. 'No. Word is she was just too dumb for him. She is as vapid as they come. Get a load of this one… I heard that she actually thought paparazzi was the last name of one particular Italian photographer. Apparently she said something like, 'Who is this Paparazzi guy and why didn't they arrest him years ago after he killed Princess Diana?''

I laughed for the first time in weeks.

'So anyway, Josh is a-vail-a-ble' Claire sang and spun around ballerina-style.

I became momentarily suspicious. 'Why don't you want him?'

'You know my uptight Episcopalian parents would never let me go down the Jewish-guy road or I would have claimed him for myself… But you better act fast because the girls in this city are ready to pounce.'

'Yeah. Don't let Jocelyn catch wind of this,' I said.

Jocelyn Silver worked with Claire and me, and although I liked her in small doses, she was a total alpha female, way too competitive for me ever to trust. She also bore a strong resemblance to Uma Thurman, and if I had to watch her pretend to be annoyed when one more stranger approached her to ask if she was Uma, I was going to puke. Which, incidentally, was what Jocelyn did after every meal.

'No kidding… I haven't mentioned anything about the breakup to her. Even if I did, Josh would totally go for you over her.'

I smiled with false modesty.

She continued, 'So how about this? I'll make sure Josh comes to our club opening next week-the one Jocelyn's going to miss for her cousin's wedding…' She winked at me. 'So stop this sniveling over Marcus. I mean, Christ, what was the deal there anyway? He could be fun, but he's certainly not worthy of macaroni-and-cheese- level grief.'

'You're right,' I said. I could feel myself cheering up as I thought of how Jewish men were supposed make great husbands. 'Josh sounds divine. I'm sure I could convince him to have a Christmas tree, don't you think?'

'You can convince anyone to do anything,' Claire said.

I beamed. That theory had been proven wrong a few times in recent days, but surely I was going to get back on track with my charmed life.

'And I had another thought on my way over…' Claire smiled mysteriously, poised to reveal another terrific surprise.

'What's that?'

'Well,' she said as she uncorked the bottle of Patron, our favorite brand of tequila. 'What do you say we move in together again? My lease is up, and you have a spare bedroom. We could save a ton on rent and have a blast together. What do you say?'

'That's a fantastic idea,' I said, remembering fondly our roomie days before I had moved in with Dex. Claire and I had shared the same shoe size, the same taste in music, and the same love of fruity mixed drinks that we consumed in quantity as we primped for our big nights out. Besides, it would be great to have her around when the baby arrived. I was sure she wouldn't mind getting up occasionally for nighttime feedings. I watched as she sliced a lime and hung perfect twists on our glasses. She had a nice touch when it came to entertaining, another perk of living with her. 'Let's do it!'

'Excellent!' she. squealed. 'My lease expires next month.'

'There's just one thing I should tell you,' I said as she crossed the living room over to my couch, drinks in hand.

'What's that?'

I swallowed, reassuring myself that although Claire could be snobbish and judgmental, she had only demonstrated a sense of absolute loyalty to me over the years. I had to believe that she would be there for me in my hour of need. So as she handed me a temptingly perfect margarita on the rocks, salt lined evenly along the rim of the glass (an engagement present from Dexter's Aunt Suzy), I blurted out my big secret. 'I'm pregnant with Marcus's baby.' Then I took one tiny sip of my drink, inhaling the sweet smell of tequila, licking the salt from my lips.

'Get outta here,' she said, her crystal drop earrings swinging as she plopped down next to me and curled her legs up under her ample bottom. 'Oh-we didn't do a toast. Here's to being roomies again!'

She clearly thought I was joking. I clinked my glass against hers, took another tiny sip, and said, 'No. It's true. I am pregnant. So I probably shouldn't drink this. Although a few more sips couldn't hurt. It's not that strong, is it?'

She looked at me sideways and said, 'You're kidding, right?'

I shook my head.

'Darcy!' She froze, a fearful smile plastered on her face.

'I'm not joking.'

'Swear.' I swear.

It went on like that for some time before I could convince her that I wasn't putting her on, that I was, indeed, pregnant with the child of a man whom she had deemed woefully inadequate. As she listened to me ramble about my morning sickness, my due date, the problems with my mother, she gulped her margarita-which was highly unusual for Claire. She had finishing-school manners even when wasted. She never forgot to cross her legs on a bar stool or keep her elbows off a table, and she never gulped. But at that moment, she was rattled.

'So what do you think?' I asked her.

She took another swallow, then coughed and sputtered, 'Whoa! Excuse me! I think it went down the wrong pipe.'

I waited for her to say something more, but she only stared back at me with a plastered smile, as if she were no longer quite sure who it was she was having a drink with. I guess I expected her to be surprised, but I wanted the giddy brand of surprised, not the freaked-out version. I reassured myself that I had just caught her off guard. She needed a minute to digest the news. In the meantime, I gave a short, noble speech about how I never once considered having an abortion or giving the baby up for adoption. In truth, I had given some consideration to both options in the past forty-eight hours, but something made me stay on track. I'd like to say it was strength of character and good morals, but it also had a lot to do with stubborn pride.

'Congratulations. That's fantastic news,' Claire finally said, in the tinny, insincere voice of a game show host informing the losing contestant that they weren't going to walk away completely empty-handed, but rather with a gift certificate for Omaha Steaks. 'I know you'll do a great job with this… And I will be here for you to help in any way I can.'

I could tell she added the last sentence as an afterthought, its generality smacking of obligation rather than any earnest desire to be involved in my baby's life. Or even mine, for that matter.

'Thank you,' I said, my mind spinning to analyze the moment. Was I being too critical of her? Too paranoid? What exactly did I want her to say? Ideally, she could ask to be the baby's godmother or offer to throw me a big shower. At the very least, I wanted her to mention moving in with me again, or say something about Josh, how we needed to act fast while my body was still spectacular. Claire only laughed nervously and said, 'This is all so… so exciting.'

'Yes,' I said defensively. 'It really is. And I see no reason why I can't still date.'

'Of course you will date,' she said, pumping one fist in the air. But no further mention of my Jewish Prince Charming.

'Do you think Josh will mind?' I asked.

More nervous laughter. 'Mind that you're pregnant?'

'Yeah. Mind that I'm pregnant?'

'Well, I… I'm not sure… I don't know him that well.'

It was perfectly clear that she was quite sure that Josh would mind very much indeed. About as much as she would mind living with me and a newborn. She downed the rest of her margarita, chattering about how excited the