Danielle Steel: The Apartment

And after lunch they followed him to Buckhead, the very expensive residential part of Atlanta where they lived. They had an enormous house that was more like an estate, with a tennis court and an Olympic-size pool, and beautiful old trees lining the driveway. It was very Southern, and there was a lovely young woman barefoot on the lawn, smiling and waving at them as they drove up, and two beautiful little girls. Steve looked ecstatic as he got out of his car, tossed them in the air, and kissed his wife. As soon as Alex and Sasha got out of their rented car, Sasha saw a problem on the horizon, a big one. Charlotte was pregnant again, which her father hadn’t mentioned, and Muriel was going to split a gut at the wedding when she found out. It would be further proof of his happy marriage to someone else. Her mother had never wanted more children after the twins, and her father had always wanted more. Now he had them. And she could never forgive him for moving on without her, and being happy.

“Congratulations,” Sasha said after hugging Charlotte, and indicated her round belly in the pretty sundress. “That’s exciting.”

“Yes, it is,” her father acknowledged, beaming at his wife. She was thirty years old, as she had told Alex before, two years younger than Sasha, which hadn’t sat well with any of them when he married her at twenty-three, but it no longer mattered to Sasha. Valentina thought it was disgusting, and now she was doing the same thing herself with Bert, who was younger than she was, though not by as many years. Her father and Charlotte were nearly thirty years apart. But so what, if it worked for them?

“When is it due?” Sasha asked, praying it would be before the wedding.

“August,” Charlotte said in her Southern drawl that always annoyed Valentina. An August due date meant that she would be seven months pregnant at the wedding—the picture of maternal splendor on her father’s arm. Sasha nearly groaned when she said it.

“Will you be up to coming to New York for the wedding?” Sasha asked with a false smile.

“My doctor says I can travel till eight months. Both of the girls were late.” Sasha nodded, with a sinking heart. It was one more thing to worry about at the wedding. Elvis Chapel, here we come, she thought.

They sat by the pool while a maid in uniform served lemonade and iced tea and lemon cookies, and her dad offered Alex a mint julep or Pimm’s Cup, which he declined and stuck with lemonade. It was delicious, and the little girls swam while they chatted, and a nanny came out to dry them off. Their mother had had help for her and Valentina too, while she practiced law, but it was always more haphazard and less formal—local young women, college age babysitters, or foreign au pairs. Steve and Charlotte’s nanny was English and formally trained, and extremely polite, as were the children who climbed all over Sasha and called her their big sister, while she teased them and chased them around the lawn. They were cute, and had a wonderful life. Their mother didn’t work and hadn’t since she gave up modeling to marry Steve, and never looked back. Her days consisted of shopping, manicures, a little charity work, and lunch with her friends.

Her father asked Alex about his residency, and they talked until dinnertime, and then had an early dinner in the gazebo on the lawn. They left by eight o’clock, and all Sasha wanted was to go back to New York. It wasn’t anything like their trip to stay with his parents in Chicago, where they actually had fun. With Alex’s family, they all had medicine in common, and his mother was the nicest woman she’d ever met, who actually seemed to care how Sasha felt.

“Thank you for being such a good sport. My parents exhaust me.” She laid her head back against the seat and looked wiped out as they drove back to the hotel.

“Your father is nice,” he said honestly. They were in agreement about her mother and had said it all the night before. Her father and Charlotte were like something in a Southern movie and never seemed real to her. No one was ever tired or dirty or messy or swore, or talked about problems, or things she cared about. It all stayed very superficial.

“My mother is going to have apoplexy when she sees Charlotte pregnant again at the wedding, although she should be used to it by now. And they’ve been divorced for nearly eight years. I think she’ll be pissed till the day she dies, and she wouldn’t want to be married to him anyway. They were both unhappy. I think she forgot.”

“Pride maybe. It doesn’t help that Charlotte’s younger than you are, and she’s a damn pretty girl,” Alex said sensibly.

“Yes, she is.” Sasha sighed. It was too late to catch a flight that night, but she switched their flight to an earlier one the next morning, and they left the hotel at eight o’clock, and were back in New York at one. She wanted to kiss the ground.

“Well, that’s over with,” she said, as they got into a cab at the airport. “We don’t have to see them again till the wedding. Are you ready to back out yet?” she asked him, and he laughed.

“Of course not. Just don’t ever leave me alone with your mother. She scares me to death.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. I promise. Don’t leave me alone with her either.” He agreed.

They went back to the apartment to drop off their things, and everyone was out, even Morgan, who had hardly left the house recently. Sasha hoped it was a good sign.

—

At that moment, Morgan was sitting by the river, thinking about her life. She didn’t want the baby, but she felt a responsibility to it. It wasn’t the baby’s fault she had gotten pregnant. She had made her decision. She was going to have it. But she was leaving Max. The fact that he’d been willing to leave her if she didn’t have his baby told her what she needed to know. She didn’t want to be wanted for their child. And if he wasn’t willing to stick by her, whatever decision she made, he didn’t really love her. He could have visiting rights to the baby, and even joint custody if he wanted it. But he couldn’t have her. He had blown it.

She had written him a letter and dropped it in the mail. She wasn’t going back to the restaurant, and didn’t want to see him. It was over, and she’d let him know when the baby was born in October, since that was all he cared about. She went for a long walk then, alone.

Morgan stuck to her decision about Max, and the baby. He groaned when he got the letter at the restaurant, and tried to call her, but she wouldn’t take his calls. She had the rest of his clothes dropped off at the restaurant. They hadn’t spoken in four weeks since his ultimatum, and now the tables had turned. Morgan wouldn’t speak to him. And Max felt helpless to reach her. She had shut the door, and intended to keep it closed. Finally Max called Sasha in desperation.

“You two need to talk to each other,” Sasha said sensibly.

“She thinks I don’t love her, just the baby.” His threat to leave her if she had an abortion had hit her too hard. “I want the baby because I love her, not in lieu of.”

“She’s very emotional right now,” Sasha explained.

“She won’t see me.”

“And you wouldn’t see her for four weeks.”

“I wanted to pressure her into keeping it. I wasn’t trying to break up with her.”

“You said you’d never see her again if she had an abortion. Now she’s keeping it and won’t see you.”

“What can I do, Sash? This is a disaster.”

“I know. Maybe give it time.”

“I want to be with her, and help her. It’s our child, and I love her.”

“I think the whole mess with her job and now this was too much for her,” Sasha said sadly. Morgan was being very quiet at the apartment, sleeping a lot and going for long walks every day. She was feeling physically better, but Sasha could see she was very depressed. And she was very quiet at their Sunday-night dinners, which Oliver was cooking now. It was strange without Abby and Max.