to need you in ten years. When your son has graduated from college and doesn’t need you anymore.” “Oh.” Mindy had laughed. “He’ll always need me.” “Will he? What if he doesn’t?” “Are you saying I can’t win?” “You can win. Anyone can win if they know what they want and they focus on it. And if they’re willing to make sacrifices. I always tell my clients there are no free shoes.” “Don’t you mean patients?” Mindy had asked. “They’re clients,” the shrink insisted. “After all, they’re not sick .”
Mindy was prescribed Xanax, one pill every night before bedtime to cut down on her anxiety and poor sleep habits (she awoke every night after four hours of sleep and would lie awake for at least two hours, worrying), and was sent to the best fertility specialist in Manhattan, who pre-ferred high-profile patients but would take those recommended by other doctors of his ilk. At the beginning, he had recommended prenatal vi-tamins and a bit of luck. Mindy knew it wouldn’t work because she wasn’t lucky. Neither she nor James ever had been.
After two years of increasingly complicated procedures, Mindy gave up. She’d tallied their money and realized she couldn’t afford to go on.
“I can count the days I’ve been truly content on one hand,” Mindy wrote now. “Those are bad numbers in a country where pursuing happiness is a right so important, it’s in our Constitution. But maybe that’s the key. It’s the pursuit of happiness, not the actual acquisition of it that matters.”
Mindy thought back to her Sunday in the Hamptons. In the morning, they’d all gone for a walk on the beach, and she’d carried Sidney as O N E F I F T H AV E N U E
71
they labored in the soft sand above the waterline. The houses, set behind the dunes, were enormous, triumphant testimonials to what some men could achieve and what others could not. In the afternoon, back at the house, Redmon organized a touch-football game.
Catherine and Mindy sat on the porch, watching the men. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Catherine said for the tenth time.
“It’s amazing,” Mindy agreed.
Catherine squinted at the men on the lawn. “Sam is so cute,” Catherine said.
“He’s a good-looking boy,” Mindy said proudly. “But James was cute when he was younger.”
“He’s still attractive,” Catherine said kindly.
“You’re very nice, but he isn’t,” Mindy said. Catherine looked startled.
“I’m one of those people who won’t lie to herself,” Mindy explained. “I try to live with the truth.”
“Is that healthy?” Catherine asked.
“Probably not.”
They sat in silence for a moment. The men moved clumsily on the lawn with the heavy breath that marks the beginning of real age, and yet Mindy envied them their freedom and their willingness to pursue joy.
“Are you happy with Redmon?” she said.
“Funny you should ask,” Catherine said. “When we were pregnant, I was afraid. I had no idea what he’d be like as a father. It was one of the scariest times in our relationship.”
“Really?”
“He still went out nearly every night. I thought, Is this what he’s going to do when we have the baby? Have I made another terrible mistake with a man? You don’t really know a man until you have a child with him. Then you see so much. Is he kind? Is he tolerant? Is he lov-ing? Or is he immature and egotistical and selfish? When you have a child, it can go two ways with your husband: You love him even more, or you lose all respect for him. And if you lose respect, there’s no way to get it back. I mean,” Catherine said, “if Redmon ever hit Sidney or yelled at him or complained about him crying, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“But he’d never do those things. Redmon has so much pride in being civilized.”
72
Candace Bushnell
“Yes, he does, but one can’t help thinking about those things when one has a baby. The protective gene, I suppose. How is James as a
Mindy was prescribed Xanax, one pill every night before bedtime to cut down on her anxiety and poor sleep habits (she awoke every night after four hours of sleep and would lie awake for at least two hours, worrying), and was sent to the best fertility specialist in Manhattan, who pre-ferred high-profile patients but would take those recommended by other doctors of his ilk. At the beginning, he had recommended prenatal vi-tamins and a bit of luck. Mindy knew it wouldn’t work because she wasn’t lucky. Neither she nor James ever had been.
After two years of increasingly complicated procedures, Mindy gave up. She’d tallied their money and realized she couldn’t afford to go on.
“I can count the days I’ve been truly content on one hand,” Mindy wrote now. “Those are bad numbers in a country where pursuing happiness is a right so important, it’s in our Constitution. But maybe that’s the key. It’s the pursuit of happiness, not the actual acquisition of it that matters.”
Mindy thought back to her Sunday in the Hamptons. In the morning, they’d all gone for a walk on the beach, and she’d carried Sidney as O N E F I F T H AV E N U E
71
they labored in the soft sand above the waterline. The houses, set behind the dunes, were enormous, triumphant testimonials to what some men could achieve and what others could not. In the afternoon, back at the house, Redmon organized a touch-football game.
Catherine and Mindy sat on the porch, watching the men. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Catherine said for the tenth time.
“It’s amazing,” Mindy agreed.
Catherine squinted at the men on the lawn. “Sam is so cute,” Catherine said.
“He’s a good-looking boy,” Mindy said proudly. “But James was cute when he was younger.”
“He’s still attractive,” Catherine said kindly.
“You’re very nice, but he isn’t,” Mindy said. Catherine looked startled.
“I’m one of those people who won’t lie to herself,” Mindy explained. “I try to live with the truth.”
“Is that healthy?” Catherine asked.
“Probably not.”
They sat in silence for a moment. The men moved clumsily on the lawn with the heavy breath that marks the beginning of real age, and yet Mindy envied them their freedom and their willingness to pursue joy.
“Are you happy with Redmon?” she said.
“Funny you should ask,” Catherine said. “When we were pregnant, I was afraid. I had no idea what he’d be like as a father. It was one of the scariest times in our relationship.”
“Really?”
“He still went out nearly every night. I thought, Is this what he’s going to do when we have the baby? Have I made another terrible mistake with a man? You don’t really know a man until you have a child with him. Then you see so much. Is he kind? Is he tolerant? Is he lov-ing? Or is he immature and egotistical and selfish? When you have a child, it can go two ways with your husband: You love him even more, or you lose all respect for him. And if you lose respect, there’s no way to get it back. I mean,” Catherine said, “if Redmon ever hit Sidney or yelled at him or complained about him crying, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“But he’d never do those things. Redmon has so much pride in being civilized.”
72
Candace Bushnell
“Yes, he does, but one can’t help thinking about those things when one has a baby. The protective gene, I suppose. How is James as a
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