The Things We Do for Love

All her life shed waited for an invitation like this. "I . . . " She couldnt seem to say no. "My mom isnt one for parties. " Unless youre offering gin and pot.

"If shes busy, come by yourself. Just think about it. Please? Everyone will get to Mamas around one oclock. " Angie handed Lauren a slip of paper. "Heres the address. It would mean a lot to us if you were there. You work at DeSarias. That makes you family. "

ON THANKSGIVING, WHEN LAUREN WOKE UP, HER VERY first thought was: You work at DeSarias. That makes you family.

For once, she had somewhere to go on this holiday, but how could she go there now, ruined and stupid? Angie would take one look at her and know. Lauren had been dreading that moment from the second she found out she was pregnant.

She was still pacing the apartment at eleven when the phone rang. She answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Lauren? Its Angie. "

"Oh. Hi. "

"I wondered if you needed a ride today. It looks like it might rain and I know that your moms car isnt running. "

Lauren sighed. It was a sound of pure longing. "No. Thanks. "

"Youll be here at one oclock, right?"

The question was asked so softly Lauren couldnt say no. She wanted it too much. "Sure. One oclock. " When she hung up, she went to her moms room and stood by the door, listening. It was quiet. Finally, she knocked. "Mom?"

There was the pinging of bedsprings, then footsteps. The door opened. Mom stood there, bleary-eyed and ashen-skinned, wearing a knee-length T-shirt that advertised a tavern. The slogan was Alcoholics serving alcoholics for 89 years. "Yeah?"

"Its Thanksgiving, remember? Were invited to dinner. "

Mom reached sideways for a pack of smokes. Lit one up. "Oh, yeah. Your boss. I thought you werent sure. "

"I . . . Id like to go. "

Mom glanced behind her--at the man in the bed, no doubt. "I think Ill hang around here. "

"But--"

"You go. Have a good time. Im not one for big to-dos, anyway. You know that. "

"They invited both of us. Itll be embarrassing to show up alone. "

Mom exhaled smoke and smiled. "No more embarrassing than showing up with me. " She looked pointedly at Laurens stomach. "Besides, youre not alone anymore. "

The door closed.

Lauren walked back to her bedroom. By twelve-fifteen, shed pulled out three outfits and changed her mind on each one. The truth was, she was thankful for the distraction of clothes. It kept her mind occupied, gave her something to think about beside the pregnancy.

Finally, she ran out of time and wore the outfit she had on: a flowing Indian print gauze skirt, a white T-shirt with black lace at the neckline, and the coat Angie had given her. She straightened her hair and brushed it back into a ponytail, then dabbed on a ti

ny amount of makeup, just enough to give her pale cheeks and even paler eyelashes some color.

She caught the twelve forty-five crosstown bus.

She was the only passenger on this Thanksgiving Day. There was something sad in it, she supposed, the very portrait of a human being without family.

Then again, it meant she had somewhere to go. Better than the people who sat home alone today, eating dinners from tinfoil trays and watching movies that made you ache for what you didnt have. All the holiday specials were like that. The movies, the parades; they all showed families coming together, enjoying the day, enjoying each other. Mothers holding . . .

babies.

Lauren sighed heavily.

It was always right there, buoyant as a cork, ready to pop to the surface of her thoughts.