Carrie went into the bathroom in Packard and Amanda's room. Julie was still in the bedroom with Barry. He was lying on the bed with his head in her lap. Becca and Janice were in there, too. Talking about their husbands.
"Let me tell you something about married sex," Becca said. "What's the point?"
"What's the point of a husband?" Julie said. "I mean, who needs two babies?"
"I totally agree," said Janice. "Except that now I want to have another baby. I was thinking of getting rid of my husband, but now I'm not sure that I want to—yet."
Julie leaned over her son. "When are you going to grow up, baby baby?"
Carrie went back into the living room. She walked over to the window for some fresh air. Somehow, Garrick had become detached from his mother and was standing, looking lost, in the corner.
Carrie leaned over. She took something out of her purse. "Pssst. Hey kid," she said, motioning. "Come here."
Curious, Garrick wandered over. Carrie held up a small, plastic package. "Condom, Garrick," she whispered. "Can you say condom? C-O-N-D-O-M. If your parents had used one of these, you might not even be here."
Garrick reached out for the plastic package. "Condom," he said.
Two days later, Amanda called Carrie. "I've just had the worst day of my life," she said. "My nanny has a kid—a son—three months
older than Chester. Her kid got sick, so I had to stay home.
"First, I tried taking him to the park. I didn't know where the gate was to the playground, and I felt totally embarrassed because all of the other nannies were already inside and I couldn't figure out how to get in. They were all looking up at me like, Who are you? Then Chester wanted to go on the slide. Like twenty times. I kept looking up at the big clock on Fifth Avenue. Five minutes had passed. I swung Chester on the swing. Another five minutes. I let him play in the sandbox. Then more sliding. A total of fifteen minutes had passed. 'Haven't you had enough? I said. I put him kicking and screaming into his stroller. 'We've got to run some errands, I said.
"Poor Chester. I was racing him up the sidewalk, and he was bumping around in the stroller, not knowing what was going on. I tried to go shopping, but I couldn't get the stroller into the dressing room. Then we went to the bank, and the stroller got stuck in the revolving door. I mean, how am I
supposed to know that you're not supposed to put a stroller in a revolving door? We were trapped. Some man had to push us through, inch by inch.
"Finally, it was eleven-thirty. I took him home and cooked him lunch. An egg."
Later that night, Carrie called Mr. Big. She forgot about the time difference—he was sleeping. "I just wanted to tell you," she said. "I got my period."
"Oh. So. . no baby," he said.
They hung up, but two minutes later he called back.
"I just remembered the dream I was having," he said. "I dreamed we had a baby."
"A baby?" Carrie asked. "What kind of baby?"
"A little tiny one," said Mr. Big. "You know. A newborn. Lying right here in the bed with us."
20. When Mr. Big is Away, the Girl Comes to Play
Carrie met the Girl in the bathroom stall at a club. She didn't mean to meet the Girl.
Someone was knocking on the door of the stall. Carrie was in a good mood, she was hanging out in the stall with Cici, so instead of telling the person to buzz off, she opened the door a crack. The Girl was standing there. She had dark hair and she could have been beautiful. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah, sure," Carrie said.
"Excuse me," Cici said, "but do we know you?"
"No, we don't," Carrie answered.
"What do you have?" the Girl asked.
"What do you want?" Carrie said.
"I've got some great weed," the Girl said.
"Good," Carrie said.
The Girl lit the joint and held it up. "Best weed you've ever smoked."
"I doubt it," Carrie said, inhaling deeply.
The club was crowded, arid it was pleasant to be hanging out in the bathroom stall. The Girl leaned back against the wall and toked on the joint. She said she was twenty-seven,
and Carrie didn't believe her, but that was okay, too. Because, at first, she was just a girl she met in the bathroom. It happened all the time.
"So, hke, what do you do?" Cici asked.
"I'm developing my own skin care company," the Girl said.
"Ah," Carrie said.
"It's based on science. I'd love to take care of your skin for you."
"Oh, really?" Carrie said. She lit up a cigarette. Other people were banging on the door now.
"We should get out of here," Cici said.
"I'd like someone to take care of my skin," Carrie said. "I don't think it's quite as good as it could be."
"Let me out," Cici said.
"I can make it better," the Girl said.
She was on the short side, but she had presence. A cool face that could be beautiful, but you had to keep looking at it to make sure. She was wearing leather pants, boots. Both expensive. Her voice was low.
"There are people out there who know me," Cici said. She was fidgeting.
"Chill out," Carrie said.
"I want you to hang with me," the Girl said. "I want you to stay with me the whole night. I think you're beautiful, you know." "Yeah, sure," Carrie said. But she was surprised.