The Family Man Part 36

"Fourteen weeks on Friday," Todd adds.

"As of now, Thalia isn't thinking in terms of future in-laws. She's very happy with the way things are."

"I know what you're not saying," says Leif. "She's not so much in love with me. But I don't think that's necessary on both sides, do you? I'm almost forty. I think I hit the jackpot. I think I can give our baby a home-"

Wrong word to use in front of Henry. "Thalia stays in New York," he says.

Thalia is, of course, the pregnant woman of the new millennium. She runs; she wears maternity clothes that might as well not be labeled as such because the b.u.mp is advertised, upholstered in clingy athletic fabrics, b.r.e.a.s.t.s proud. She works full-time until her water breaks.

Henry doesn't sue Estime on Thalia's behalf but finds Attorney Seth Shapiro, as predicted, ultimately sympathetic to the cause. Henry brings to the table a list of contract violations, ending with the big one: "Your client got my client pregnant, despite contractual prohibitions. We are not suing or asking for child support. We've come up with a resolution that is fitting and beyond reasonable."

"Such as?"

"Employment. Estime hires her."

"In what capacity?" asks the lawyer, pen in motion.

Henry is ready: Publicity! The perfect occupational match for Thalia's stellar communication skills, her personality, her ability to think on her feet. She will, through no fault of her own, need maternity leave in late February, the same generous few months that Attorney Michele Schneider seems still to be enjoying. Has the company ever had a publicist with an acting background? Invaluable in this field. And his personal guarantee: This is no prima donna. Between her acting gigs, she worked behind counters. Translation: No job or client beneath her dignity. The difficult and the spoiled? That can be her niche.

It takes several meetings, but eventually the terms of a settlement build from unpaid intern to a.s.sistant to junior publicist with an office, a health plan, a laptop, and a BlackBerry.

Most helpful to the advance of Thalia's career and Leif's profile is the fact that Caitlin is lashing out. She uploads her disappointments on YouTube, a forty-second virgin's lament, in a clingy tank top, naming names: Leif Dumont, award-winning actor, was stolen away by Thalia n.o.body, implying girl who steals a guy by going all the way. It doesn't take long before a citizen journalist reports on Gawker.com that Leif and Thalia were seen on Sixth Avenue between 17th and 18th, "she in a cami, loose jeans, a hat, and sungla.s.ses. Him in a Mets cap, and giving a dollar and a pack of gum to a homeless guy."

It sp.a.w.ns a blind item, Leif's first, on Page Six: "WHICH sitcom spook in town scouting locations for his new flick [untrue; Thalia's tip] and his NY publicist, allegedly friends, are actually more?" Quick study Thalia Archer posts a statement on her new Mys.p.a.ce page, denying the rumor that she, an employee of Estime, is violating company guidelines by dating a client. "This," she writes, "will be the last time I address this baseless allegation." Eleventh graders at Beverly Hills High School fight back, expressing their skepticism by employing epithets that Mys.p.a.ce blanks out. By the time Thalia's belly tells the story, The Superficial goes on record saying that the faux-mance between horror lothario Leif Dumont and Thalia Archer looks like the real thing after all.

Hidden behind the work of Hollywood makeup artists, is Leif a better actor than anyone knew? Thalia says yes, particularly after lunch with ex-teacher Sally Eames-Harlan, who claims to have advised him against taking the role of Boo in the sitcom, possibly the longest-running typecasting in the history of television. Thalia, with her new corporate American Express card, picks up the check.

"She told me he did Stanley in Streetcar" Thalia reports.

"He did not," says Todd.

"In college. And you know, once Sally told me that, I could see it."

"Interesting," says Henry.

"If not eloquent," Todd confirms.

At twenty-four weeks, Thalia a.s.sures Todd and Henry that she has enrolled in Lamaze cla.s.ses, and okay, yes, she's taking Leif. "We've been to one. Show me a guy who's having his first kid at thirty-nine, and I'll show you a guy with his hand in the air the whole hour," she says.

"Henry was worried you'd ask him to be the birth coach," Todd tells her.

"Oh, he'd be just the guy I'd want down there." She raises her knees to a higher rung of the kitchen stool, suggesting stirrups in the delivery room. "'Wait, Henry! Where you going? The baby's out, but you'll miss the placenta!'"

"He'll be good at other things," says Todd.

So all that Estime wanted in the first place for Leif has come to pa.s.s, by accident or default, and for Thalia, too, not that the firm had her best interest, or any interest at all, at heart. Sometimes Henry wonders if there was some grand and brilliant scheme to get their client to where he is today: in blind items and in love.

The photo of Thalia leaving Lenox Hill Hospital twenty-four hours after giving birth shows Leif holding the baby, nearly un-detectable in swaddling in the cold March air. Not shown: the car waiting at the curb, Henry holding the door open and Todd already inside, pressing a tatting-edged flannel blanket into the hollows of the infant car seat. Back in the maisonette, the plywood cradle crafted by Eddie Pelletier-since painted, upholstered, and stenciled with moons and stars by Todd-stands ready in the planetary-themed nursery. Leif will tip the driver fifty dollars for the ten-minute drive across the park.

"Wow," the man says. "My lucky day. Girl or boy?"

"Pink receiving blanket?" Todd answers, and clucks his tongue.

"Don't tell my wife," says the driver. "Four boys is enough."

At West 75th Street, the suitcase and baby paraphernalia are quickly unloaded by the happy driver. "Photo? Sure thing," he says. "I can do photo. Digital? This b.u.t.ton on top?"

The party stands in front of the house, Thalia holding the swaddled baby, Leif behind them, Henry on one side, Todd on the other.

"Athena Celeste Dumont, arriving home. Day one, take one," says Thalia.

"It's cold out here," says Henry. "She's never been exposed to the elements. We shouldn't dawdle."

"Closer," says the driver, "if you want everybody in the picture."

The group narrows and shrinks into the frame. The result will become the birth announcement, Photoshopped with an inset, a close-up of Athena, delicious baby.

Lillian calls this homecoming the second-happiest day of her life, and the baby girl, indisputably hers to spoil and borrow. Eventually Williebelle's white bedroom under the eaves will be her home.

Henry will be known as Grandpa, Todd as Papa Todd, and Denise will be known as Denise. She likes to remind Henry that he can draw a straight line between her and his unforeseen set of blessings. After all, if she'd been the flawless human being they all had craved, Thalia wouldn't have needed this improvised family. Though resistant for nine months, she has found two personal silver linings in her daughter's adventures: Albert Einstein has come into his own, growling custodially at strangers who get too close to his baby. And this plain fact, which she hopes has crossed more minds than just her own: If Thalia is this good at motherhood, could Denise the role model have been so bad?

My Thanks.

To Mameve Medwed and Stacy Schiff, as ever, for editorial wisdom and prize-winning friendship every step along the way. To Anita Shreve: Who better to recognize where a story should begin? To my helpmeets at William Morris, starting with beloved ace Suzanne Gluck, the indispensable Sarah Ceglarski, and my West Coast champion, Alicia Gordon.

To Andrea Schulz, fabulous and heaven-sent editor. To the indefatigable Megan Wilson, Lori Glazer, and Bridget Marmion, and to everyone behind the scenes and on the road for Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

To Todd Shearer and George Romanella for sociological guidance and nomenclature (surely a coincidence!). To Meg Wolitzer and Bob Hughes for early reads at the right time. To Howard Medwed for fict.i.tious legal complications; John P. L. Kelly, Media Relations, NYPD, for guidance on Leif's transgressions; and Keleigh Thomas of Sunshine, Sachs for tips on the hip.

Enduring thanks to Jane Rosenman, Harry Gittes, Benjamin Austin, and Robert Austin.

Books by Elinor Lipman.

INTO LOVE AND OUT AGAIN.

THEN SHE FOUND ME.

THE WAY MEN ACT.

ISABEL'S BED.

THE INN AT LAKE DEVINE.

THE LADIES' MAN.

THE DEARLY DEPARTED.

THE PURSUIT OF ALICE THRIFT.

MY LATEST GRIEVANCE.

THE FAMILY MAN.