... and Baby Makes Two Read Online Free PDF Page A

also avoiding chocolate, in an effort to regain his lost boyish figure. And he supposed that Tired Girl could use some chocolate. She ate it and cried, despite her best efforts to do neither.
    â€œAre you tired, honey?” he asked tentatively.
    â€œOh, God. So tired. So, so tired.”
    Ray suggested that Jane get some real help. He was right. And soon, Sam's mother moved in with them. She provided the real help Jane needed—she cooked, cleaned, shopped for groceries, and monitored medications. Jane worked in a word processing center from midnight to 7 A.M., the graveyard shift, and spent her days with Sam.
    His mother, Kaye, was stoic and a bit bossy. So he came by it honestly. Kaye didn't complain, at least not openly. She didn't like New York, though. That was clear.
    Jane would finish her seven hours of typing numbers onto a computer screen and squint at the rising sun as she rode home. But she stopped at the deli to pick up more juice before she came home. Wait. Maybe she needed bagels too. Maybe she should try that nice breakfast sandwich that Ray liked. She was stalling. She didn't want to go back to Sam and the sickroom. And that was a horribly disloyal thought, which prompted her to rush back to her apartment.
    â€œDo you want more juice, hon?” she asked. “I picked up some of that white grape juice at the deli. You like that stuff, don't you?”
    He spelled out “No” on his magnetic letter board.
    Jane didn't want to hate him. She didn't like feeling angry at him—it was so disloyal. So she just plain put it away. Her resentment went into storage. She modeled Kaye's stoicism and even tried to do her one better.
    It took Sam a long time to die, which surprised everyone because he wanted it so. Jane cried and Kaye cried, and the funeral was as sad and beautiful as they both hoped it would be. That was all due to Ray. He knew that funerals were theater, and he knew theater. He put together a catharsis, in quiet good taste. And then Kaye went back to her husband in Indiana.
    Jane switched to the day shift in the word processing department. She liked the technology. It was logical and fair. She took classes to move up and on and out to a job at a law firm. She even went to a party at Ray's. A Breakup Party. This was Ray's festive way of sailing through heartbreak and fear. He cackled about his ex, “He put my copy of
Breakfast of Champions
away with the cookbooks!” Ray reenacted his ex's Perfected Precision Shaving to the delight of the party guests.
    Jane stayed for a while, but it was too loud and bright. Sheslipped out the door. Ray followed her upstairs and told her to come back downstairs immediately.
    â€œYou've
got
to meet my friend Gerald. He's a director, and he's doing really well.” How could such a kind and sensitive man try to fix her up so quickly after Sam? She reached for her flannel pajamas.
    â€œJane! It's not a fix up. It's a fixer-upper. An apartment. Downtown. He's leaving the city to go work in regional theater. The place needs tons of repairs and gallons of paint, but you're a visionary. And if you don't grab this place, I'll never forgive you.”
    Jane dropped the flannel. A month later, she moved in to a total fixer-upper apartment, closer to Wall Street, where she learned how to fix up. As she sanded and spackled, she thought about Sam. She turned him back into the geeky, sweet, but occasionally bossy Sam that she loved. He deserved it. She needed it. It was only fair.
    It took more than a year, but she started dating again. She met a new lawyer at the firm where she worked. He was handsome and polished, and Jane just had to experience a date with him. She also had to experience sex again, and men who were verbal and self-sufficient. She fell for Dean. He took her to trendy nightspots, Martha's Vineyard, and bought her a bracelet at Tiffany's.
    Jane thought that she had outgrown her youthful belief that life was fair. Didn't Sam's death