We both cracked up. Then he threw one arm over me and hugged me just as one of my babies delivered a sharp kick. Ethan's face lit up. I laughed. 'You felt that?' 'Yeah. Wow.'
He got you.
'He sure did,' Ethan murmured. He rested his hand on my stomach and gently pushed.
One baby responded with an impressive jolt. Ethan chuckled. 'That's wild. I still can't believe you have two babies in there!'
'Tell me about it,' I said. 'I feel like I'm running out of room. It's starting to get really tight.'
'Does it hurt?'
'Sort of. It's just this weird pressure down there. And I'm starting to get this annoying back pain.'
Ethan asked me if I wanted a massage.
'Are your back massages as good as your foot massages?'
'Better,' he said.
'Hell yeah, then,' I said, as I rolled onto my side.
Ethan rubbed his hands together. Then he slid my nightgown up, exposing my bare back and apple-green thong. I felt my heart race with the realization that Ethan was seeing me essentially naked for the first time. I held my breath as he pressed his warm palms against the middle of my back and slowly worked upward between my shoulder blades. Then he firmly massaged my shoulders. 'Is this too hard?' he asked softly.
'Nooo. It's awesome,' I moaned, feeling all the tightness and tension drain from my body. As he kept massaging, I couldn't stop imagining sex with Ethan. I tried to dismiss the thought, remind myself that it would ruin our friendship, to say nothing of what it would do to our respective relationships-relationships that were actually working. No matter what, I didn't want to be a cheater ever again. I wondered if any such thoughts were crossing Ethan's mind as his hands drifted down my back, his thumbs kneading my muscles along the way. He spent a lot of time in the small of my back and then went even lower to the top edge of my thong, just over my tailbone. His touch became gentler as his hands swept out over my hips. He lingered there and then stilled, signaling the end of the massage.
'There,' he said, patting my hips twice.
I turned around to face him, feeling oddly breathless. 'Thanks. That was awesome.'
He didn't respond, just looked at me with those clear, blue eyes. He was feeling something too. I was almost sure of it. I think I even saw his chest rising and falling under his T-shirt, as if he, too, were short of breath.
Then, after a long, strange moment, just as I thought he was poised to utter something meaningful, maybe even kiss me, he took a deep breath, exhaled loudly, and said, 'Well, what do you say we hit the kitchen?'
Ethan and I spent most of the day in our pajamas, preparing our Christmas dinner. I played the role of sous- chef, diligently taking his instructions. I chopped and peeled vegetables while Ethan focused on the turkey and fancier trimmings. Other than burning my finger in the goose fat when I removed the parsnips from the oven, everything went remarkably smoothly. Almost like a cooking show, Ethan bragged at one point.
Then, just as it was getting dark outside, I took a shower. Under the hot water, I allowed myself to revisit his massage that morning, marveling that Ethan could make me feel the way he had. I found myself speculating about what he had been thinking. When I got out of the shower, I even craned to check out my back in the mirror, feeling relieved to see that my ass was still rather small and-knock on wood-stretch-mark and cellulite-free. I felt a wave of guilt and confusion. Was I grateful to have a nice ass for Geoffrey's sake, Ethan's, or my own? As I changed into a fresh pair of sweats, I told myself that I was being crazy, likely even imagining the erotic component of the whole massage.
When I returned to the living room, I discovered that Ethan had moved the kitchen table in front of the tree, and set it with his best dishes and an ivory damask tablecloth.
'How pretty,' I said, kissing his cheek and feeling relief that I felt nothing more than affection for a good friend.
He smiled, adjusted the volume on his classical music, and pulled out my chair for me. 'Let's feast.'
And what a feast it was. Restaurant-worthy, for sure. We had a smoked-salmon salad with mustard and dill dressing as a starter, followed by our main course: a roast turkey seasoned with pink peppercorns, sage, and lemon. Our side dishes were roasted potatoes, pan-fried brussels sprouts with chestnuts, orange-glazed carrots, spiced red cabbage with apples, and parsnips seasoned with sea salt. And for dessert we had a delightful strawberry macaroon tart that Ethan had picked up from Maison Blanc, a bakery on Kensington Church Street.
We ate and ate until we literally couldn't take another bite, applauding our efforts along the way. Afterward, we rolled our way over to the couch, where we cozied up under a blanket in our standard head-to-feet position and watched the candles burn down to their nubs. Just as we were nodding off to sleep, the phone rang and jarred us awake. I silently hoped that it wasn't Sondrine-or Geoffrey for that matter. They had both already called earlier in the day, and I saw no reason why further conversation was necessary.
'You wanna get that?' I asked Ethan.
'Not really,' he mumbled, but he picked up the phone and said hello.
He shot me a furtive glance and then said, with a strained expression, 'Hi, there, Rachel.'
I sat numbly next to him as I listened to him wish her a merry Christmas. He gave me another concerned look. I smiled to indicate that I was just fine. Then I went back to his bedroom and curled up under the covers. I tried to put Rachel out of my mind, but clearly that was impossible. I wondered if she was calling from Indiana. Whether Dex had come home with her. Seconds later Ethan appeared in the doorway. His face was solemn.
'Is it Rachel?' I asked.
'Yeah.'
'Are you off?'
'No, not yet… I just wanted to check on you…'
'I'm fine,' I said, reburying my face in the covers.
'Okay… I also wanted to ask you… can I tell her about your twins? She's asking about you…'
'It's none of her business,' I snapped. 'I don't want her to know anything about my new life.'
Ethan nodded. 'I respect that. I won't tell her anything.'
I thought for a beat and then peered up at him. 'Oh, go ahead. It makes no difference to me.'
'Are you sure?'
'Yeah. Whatever.'
Ethan nodded, closed the door, and then returned to the living room. I suddenly felt overcome with grief and had to fight back tears. Why was I so upset? Hadn't I moved beyond Rachel's betrayal? I had a new boyfriend, new girlfriends, a new best friend in Ethan, and two babies on the way. And I was sure that I would find a job in the new year. I was doing fine. So why was I sad? I thought for a few minutes, dug down to a very deep place, and came up with an answer that I didn't like. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I knew that it had something to do with missing Rachel.
Against my better judgment, I got out of bed, opened the door, and strained to hear Ethan's end of the conversation. He was talking in a low voice, but I heard some snippets. 'Twins… Boys. Identical boys. Amazing… Believe it or not, yes… Really great… She's really changed… Like a different person… Yeah. Her doctor [laughter]. Yeah, she switched doctors, of course… Uh-huh, good for her, you know?… So what about you and Dex?… Sure, yeah. That makes sense…' Then came a long silence. And finally, a bone-chilling word:
I could only think of one thing he could be congratulating her on.
