Gestation: 35 Weeks, 6 Days
The last few days it feels like Henry, Clare and I are doing everything as a threesome for the last time. It’s just been we three for the road.
It reminds me of falling in love with Jean Marc Beaumier when I was in Cannes for a winter film festival fifteen years ago.
I was a bit actress in a crappy little film and he was my driver. We lingered over brioche and cappuccinos along the Cap d’ Antibes, watched the moon shine down on the waters of the still midnight Mediterranean Sea.
We talked about how we’d maintain our relationship after I returned to California.
I’d come to France twice a year and he to L.A. It would always be just like this intimate moment we were living in. But we both knew that when I left, being young and broke, we’d probably never see each other again which lent everything a rarefied, heightened feel.
After I flew home we wrote faithfully to one another right up to the point where we each fell in love with someone else.
The chemistry of our little family is soon to change forever with Bridget coming, so these last few days have had that same rarefied, heightened feel. Like a fleeting passionate love affair abroad.
After Clare’s nap today all three of us sat on the back patio, Clare watering everything with her new little watering can.
Henry washing all her outdoor toys, God love him. And me just sitting on a bench being huge, swollen and immobile watching them.
It was a beautiful late spring afternoon, with a full moon shining palely in the sky. Clare loves the moon and looks at it every afternoon. It’s a touchstone for her.
No one spoke, but we vibrated with harmonious connection. I breathed in the peaceful moment, feeling a profound satisfaction, a hesitant joy.