"Fuck…" she says, almost under her breath. Her eyes are locked on mine. And then we both hear the persistent giggling. Oh yeah. The kid.
Danny's laughing. "Mommy, you said the f-word!"
Mommy?
Carrie Bradshaw's a mommy?
"Right, I'm sorry, buddy," Carrie knelt down to eye level with her son. She looked relieved to have a distraction. "Danny, what were you thinking, running off like that? And what did I tell you about talking to strangers?"
"I'm sorry, Mommy," Danny's got these huge puppy dog brown eyes, and he's using them to their full effect right now, looking down and very remorseful. Smart kid. And then he grins, and leans forward, whispering something into his mother's ear which makes Carrie turn red. I feel like a goddamn spy. So I say the first thing that comes to mind.
"Carrie? Is that you?" Duh, asshole. Of course it's her.
She picks up her son, and draws up to her full height of five-foot-nothing. She finally looks me in the eye again, and she looks a little more relaxed, with Danny acting as a shield between us. "Danny, um…This is an old friend of mine. Can you say hi?" He sticks out his hand to shake as if it's something he's seen in movies, and I've just got to laugh. This is definitely Carrie's kid. What a character. After she introduces us, she lets him go back to playing under the strict promise that he doesn't run off again, or go up to any more grown-ups he doesn't know.
And this leaves me and Carrie alone again.
She looks nervous. I'll speak first. "So…" Great line, Smooth Talker.
"So." Her's is shorter.
"So…You're somebody's mom, now?" Duh, asshole.
"Yeah, Danny's three-and-a-half now, and…"
"And?"
"Nothing."
"Oh." I'm dying to ask the question. It's on the tip of my tongue, but I know it's not my place to ask. Aw, hell. "So, where's Aidan?"
"Excuse me?"
I glance down at her hands. She's wearing mittens. Shit.
"Come on, Carrie. I mean, you've got a kid…and everything…"
"Oh, so this is your tactless way of asking me who the father is?" All right. She's pissed. Sighing, I nod. "Don't waste any time do you? Not, hey Carrie, it's been a while, how's your life been? Just jump right in there."
"Look, I don't think it's an out of the question…question!"
"How long have you been back in New York? Have you even thought of coming to see me?"
"Last time I saw you, you said you never wanted to lay eyes on me again!" We're starting to raise our voices, but I don't care, and I can tell she doesn't either.
"What the hell is going on here?"
We both look to the right, and I see the only thing that could have shocked me more than seeing Carrie with a kid. Samantha Jones and a baby carriage.
Has the whole city lost its freakin' mind?
Jones is looking at me with wicked eyes. I feel like if we make eye contact she's just going to freeze me solid, so I look elsewhere. At the baby girl in the carriage. How old is she? I don't know, I'm not good at guessing when they're still going by months. Wow, what a looker. Rosebud lips and little sunny-blonde curls. And then I realize that this is Carrie's baby. She has two kids. But with who?
"Carrie, tell me that I'm not seeing who I think I'm seeing."
Carrie just looks like someone has her slammed up against a wall, and an old wave of protectiveness has got me wanting to put my arm around her and cover her like I used to. But I know that that's not happening.
"Sam, can you take Danny and Jess home? I think we need to talk."
"But, Carrie-" Jones looks like she's going to protest, but just stops herself. She lifts two fingers to her mouth and lets out a wolf's whistle. "Danny! Get over here, pal! I'm taking you and your sister for some Mickey D's!"
Carrie looks up at me. "Do you want to go for a walk?"
Do I have a choice? So we just start walking…and not talking. She's acting like a friggin' stranger. It has been a long time, but she wasn't even like this the last time.
I can remember our last night together. It started out like it always did with Carrie. Hot, full of anticipation. As usual, we never made it to dinner. And then we got into a fight. That woman can fight like no one I ever knew. Like she always has something to prove.
But this Carrie is silent, withdrawn. Never in all the years I have known Carrie have I ever thought of her as speechless.
Aw hell. I guess I'm going to have to talk first. "So kids, huh?" She just nods. She won't look at me. "Kid? Talk to me."
Her hands are shaking, and I do the only thing that I know will help her calm down. I offer her a cigarette, and light it for her.
With some fresh nicotine and tar in her lungs, she's got a little more courage. "So…okay…A little over four years ago, I got pregnant, with Danny. I didn't know really what to do, but I thought it might be my last chance to have a baby, so I just went for it. Had no idea what I was getting into."
"A little over four years ago? When's his birthday?"
"Well, he'll be four on June 26." All right, so, sometime around four Septembers ago…Wait a minute. My mind is doing some crazy math in my head. But Carrie's still talking. "And then a couple of years later, I got a surprise package. My daughter, Jessica. Jessie." Carrie's eyes get soft when she talks about her kids. She loves them, I can tell, more than she's ever loved anything. Even her friends, even shoes. Even me.
"And uh, her-" Stuttering fool.
"She'll be a year old in May. May 31."
I'm counting back the months in my head. When was the last time I was in New York? Two summers ago? Oh yeah…In the end of August. Labor Day Weekend.
"Carrie-"
But she doesn't let me finish. She's running off the same way her little boy did. Her little dark-haired boy that is looking more like the person I see in the mirror every day.