Something Borrowed Part 37

Twelve hours later I am on my way to Hillary's office when Les ambushes me in the hall. "Good. You're back. I need to see you." Yes, I had a lovely vacation. Thanks for asking.

"Now?" I ask.

"Yeah, now. Come to my office. p.r.o.nto."

I want to tell him that normal people do not use the word "p.r.o.nto," unless they're kidding or playing Scrabble.

"I need to get a pad," I say. So much for easing into my old routine.

Seconds later I am sitting in his office, which smells of onions, furiously scribbling instructions for three new a.s.signments. All time-consuming, mind-numbing, bulls.h.i.+t first-year research projects, riddled with false deadlines. It is my punishment for taking a vacation. He talks at me in aggressive run-on sentences, his tone condescending whenever I dare to interrupt to ask a pertinent question. As I study his bulbous nose, I am thinking that I don't need this. I remember how free I felt in London, being away from this place. I fantasize about quitting, getting another job in New York, or maybe moving to London with Dex. I will resign in mid-a.s.signment. Leave Les high and dry. Tell him what I think of him on my way out the door. Tell him that he really should do something about those hairs in his nose.

After an hour of being held prisoner (he even takes three lengthy phone calls during my sentence), I am released. I head straight for Hillary's office. It is a war zone, worse than usual. Doc.u.ments clutter up every square inch of floor s.p.a.ce. Both of her guest chairs are covered with papers, and her desk is piled high with folders, treatises, and old newspapers.

She spins around in her chair. "Hey, you! Have a seat. Tell me about your trip!"

"Where do I sit?"

"Oh. Just dump that stuff anywhere... So how was England? How are you?"

"Well. Let's see," I say, as I clear off one of her chairs. "England was great. I made some progress in getting over Dex... But then I came home last night and learned that Dex called off the wedding after all."

She gives me a quizzical look. "He called it off? For sure?"

I tell her the whole story. She hangs on every word, and in the end she looks like one of those people who answers the door to find Ed McMahon with a big check and a television crew. She covers her eyes with her palms, laughs, shakes her head, and then comes around her desk and gives me a hug. I am not surprised by her reaction. I didn't expect her to get any of the subtleties-the fact that Darcy and I are no longer friends, the fact that my parents are upset, and that word of my treason is traveling at the speed of light all over Indiana.

"Well, that is awesome, awesome news. I owe Dex an apology. s.h.i.+t. I really had him written off as another womanizing pretty boy."

"He's not like that."

"I can see that... I'm so happy for you."

I smile. "So what has been going on here?"

"Oh, not too much. Same old s.h.i.+t... Julian and I had our first big fight."

"What? Why?"

She shrugs. "We got into an argument that escalated."

"About what?"

"It's a long story... but basically we have this full-disclosure rule. No secrets whatsoever."

"Secrets about your past?"

"Yeah. And just anything. So anyway, he was talking to this girl at a party, and he introduced me to her. And the three of us had a big conversation about all sorts of things. And later that night, I asked him how he knew her... He told me he met her two summers ago... and that was it. Then kidding around, I said, 'Did you sleep with her?' And he just looked at me... He had!"

I don't try to hide my smirk. "You got mad because of an ex-girlfriend?"

"No. I got mad that I had to ask him if he slept with her. He should have brought it up first! That wasn't in the spirit of our agreement. So of course, I start to worry that he isn't as honest as he seems."

I shake my head. "You're a trip. So stubborn."

"He is too... We haven't talked in almost twenty-four hours."

"Hill! C'mon, you have to call him!"

"Not a chance. His finger isn't broken."

Her words and posturing are bold and defiant, but for the first time I see her as vulnerable. Something in her eyes gives her away.

"I think you should call him," I say. "This is silly."

"Maybe it is. I don't know-and then again, maybe we're not as perfect for each other as I first thought."

"Because of one fight?"

She shrugs.

"Hillary, I think you're overreacting. Pick up the phone and call him."

"No way," she says, but I can tell from the way that she glances at her phone that she is weakening.

I think to myself that when you're in love, sometimes you have to swallow your pride, and sometimes you have to fight to keep your pride. It's a balance. But when the relations.h.i.+p is right, you find that balance. I am sure that Hillary and Julian will.

When I return to my office, I dial up my only other unconditional ally. I know that Ethan won't miss the complexity of the situation, perhaps because he knows Darcy better than Hillary does. In some ways, he understands her better than I do.

He does not interrupt once as I tell him the story. "So did you suspect that? When Dex called asking about my flight?" I ask him after I finish.

"I hoped... That's why I gave him your information. But I didn't ask any questions. I just crossed my fingers."

"You hoped? Really? I thought you didn't like him."

"Aw, I just didn't like him for jerking you around all summer. I like him now. I mean, I actually admire him now. He didn't take the easy way out. I really respect him for that. So many people just let the engagement tide roll over them and get washed up into the hurrah of a wedding. Dex did the stand-up thing. I give him credit. I really do."

"I'm just glad he was the one to call it off, instead of Darcy making the decision for him after the pregnancy discovery. Then I'd always wonder, you know, if I was just the runner-up."

"So how do you feel?" His question is gentle, and I know he is asking about Darcy.

I tell him that I am happy, of course, but that I am devastated to lose Darcy, to realize that she will no longer be a part of my life. Although in truth, I don't think it has fully sunk in yet. "It's just not a fairy-tale ending," I say.

"No. It never is."

"And it all happened so fast. One minute I thought I was going to a wedding on Sat.u.r.day. Next minute, no wedding, I get to be with Dex, Darcy is with Marcus, and she's having his baby. It is nuts."

"I can't believe she's pregnant... s.h.i.+t! That girl!" he says, with some amus.e.m.e.nt.

"I know."

"Never a dull moment."

"I know... I think I might miss that about her."

"Yeah. Well. Maybe she'll come around."

"Maybe."

He clears his throat. "Although I doubt it."

"Me too."

"So Marcus and Darcy." He whistles. "That's certainly a twist."

"Yeah. You're telling me! But I can actually see it now... It makes sense. She was always railing at Dex for working too hard. And Marcus takes the opposite approach."

"And you're more like Dex."

"Yeah. So much for the 'opposites attract' theory."

"Sounds like everything may have worked out for the best. Except for James, that is. He'll be wrecked."

"Yeah, right," I say.

"And of course, I'm a little disappointed."

"Why?"

"I thought you were going to move here."

"Who knows? Maybe I still will."

"And leave Dex?"

"He can come with me."

"Think he'd do that?"

"Maybe."

Maybe he loves me enough to follow me anywhere.

I hang up and start my a.s.signments, signing on to Lexis, skimming and highlighting case after case. I keep checking my e-mail and waiting for the phone to ring. At first I think it's Dex I am waiting for, but then I pick up the phone and call him, and still have an empty, aching feeling. That's when I realize that it's Darcy I am waiting to hear from. I expect her to call at any minute. Yell at me, say mean things to me, but talk to me. Communicate in some way. But my phone does not ring as I work through lunch. Around four o'clock, I finally get a call.

"Rachel?" Claire bellows into the phone.

I roll my eyes. "h.e.l.lo, Claire."

"What in the world is going on?" she asks, pretending to be foggy on the exact details. I know that Darcy has put her up to this call. Maybe she is even listening to me now. It is pure, cla.s.sic Darcy. I think of all the times in high school when she cajoled Annalise and me to undertake such a.s.signments.

I do not take the bait. I briskly tell Claire that I have to be in court in thirty minutes, and don't have time to discuss the situation with her.

"Okay..." Her disappointment at the lack of juice is palpable. "Call me back when you can..."

Don't hold your breath.

"I just feel terrible for both of you. You've been friends for too long..." Her voice is dripping with false empathy. She is relis.h.i.+ng her new position as Darcy's best friend. I picture them wearing the "best friend" necklaces. If anyone could bring them back into fas.h.i.+on, it is Darcy and Claire.

"Uh-huh." I give nothing away. Claire will be the one worthwhile casualty of my split with Darcy. I don't have to pretend to like her anymore.

It is Wednesday night. Three days after the confrontation. Dex and I are curled up in bed when the phone rings. This will be Darcy, I think. I both crave and fear her call, a call that might never come.

I answer nervously. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Hi, Rachel."

It is Annalise. She sounds tired, and for a second I think it's because Darcy has dragged her into our saga. I prepare myself for a tentative, mousy, Annalise-style lecture. Instead I hear a baby unleash a wail in the background.

"It's a girl," Annalise says. "We had a girl!"

Darcy was right, is my first thought, before I become weepy. I am overcome by the news. My friend is a mother. "Congratulations! When?"

"Two hours ago. Eight-forty-two. She's six pounds, four ounces."

"What's her name?"

"Hannah Jane... Jane after you and Darcy."

Our friends.h.i.+p with Annalise and the middle name Jane are two of the only things that Darcy and I still share.

"Annalise, I am so touched," I say. "You never told me you were considering Jane."

"It was a surprise."

"Hannah Jane. It's a beautiful name."

"She is beautiful."

"Does she look like you?"

"I don't know. My mom says so. But I think she has Greg's nose and feet."

"I can't wait to see her."

"When are you coming home?"

"Soon. I promise."

For a moment I think that Darcy actually refrained from dragging Annalise into our scandal. But then she says, "Rachel, you and Darcy have to make up. She called me last night. I was going to call you but my water broke right afterward."