Baby Business

“Is he successful?”

“Mom, why would that be one of the first questions you ask? Does it really matter?”

“You don’t think it’s important, dear, after Richard?”

Macy chuckled. “I see your point. Okay, I think he’s successful. He has some nice office space on South Temple.”

“He has what?” her mother asked in surprise, and Macy wished she could take back her words. How odd it must sound for her to talk about his office, instead of something more personal, like his home. “Where does he live?”

He could live in South Jordan, Murray, Ogden, Sugarhouse, anywhere in the Salt Lake Valley, for all Macy knew. She hadn’t seen him since he’d made her breakfast the day before, and she hadn’t thought to ask him on the telephone last night when they’d set the date for their wedding. “Um, in a nice house,” she replied vaguely.

“So you and Haley will be moving in with him?”

“No, he’ll be moving in with us.”

“But your house is so small. What if you decide to have more children?”

“That’s a very good possibility. He really wants a baby.” At least that was God’s own truth.

“Right away?”

Macy nearly laughed at the question. They were getting married next Saturday, and she was being artificially inseminated the following week. “I think so, yeah.”

“Then why keep your house?”

“It has charm.”

“And probably termites.”

“I like it,” Macy replied. “It’s close to school and the hospital. Do you know how hard it is to get a rental up here?” Her mother didn’t share her taste for old architecture. Edna liked the new ranch-style homes they had in Las Vegas, where she lived, but Macy refused to let her mother convince her to move out of the Avenues, old plumbing and electrical be damned.

“Listen, Mom, I have to go. There are people waiting to use the phone.”

“But you haven’t even given me the date and time of the wedding, or where it’s going to be.”

And you haven’t mentioned when you might be coming to town to see Haley. Typical. “It’s going to be in your neck of the woods, actually. We were hoping you could be there.”

“You’re coming to Vegas to get married?”

“Yeah, next Saturday. Our plane gets in around nine in the morning. We’ll come by or call you when we get there. It all depends on how Haley is doing and whether we’ll be in a huge rush or not.”

Silence.

“Hello? Mom, did you hear me?”

“Macy, are you pregnant?”

“No.” Not yet, anyway, she silently added, and relinquished the phone.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME like that. You’re the one who got me into this,” Macy told Lisa, who was sitting on her couch, drinking a large Coke and finishing the rest of a McDonald’s Combo Meal.

“I told you to have Thad’s baby and get paid for doing it, so you could help Haley. I didn’t tell you to marry him. That’s crazy. What are you going to do after the baby?”

“Uncontested divorce. And I’ll have to sign over full custody, of course.”

Lisa’s breath hissed through her teeth. “I thought you guys were going to stay out of each other’s personal lives.”

“I guess we’ve decided that if we’re going to have a baby together, there’s just no practical way to keep our distance, not with Thad giving me the money up front. Having me marry him makes him feel more secure. Anyway, he has a point about the baby not being born a bastard. I’ll have a name to put on the birth certificate, and I won’t have to write ‘single’ on every form the doctor or hospital hands me.”

“So he’ll be living here?” She used a french fry to motion at the cramped but comfortable living room.

“Yeah, it’s a point in his favor that he doesn’t expect me to uproot myself, not with Haley in the hospital.”

“Well, I think he sounds like a nice guy.”

“We’ll see if you still think so in nine months.”

Feeling a pang of hunger at the smell of Lisa’s food and regretting her decision not to get something when they went to McDonald’s after leaving the hospital, Macy kicked off her shoes and wandered into the kitchen. “Do you want any ketchup for those fries?” she called.

“No, I’m almost done.”

Macy opened the refrigerator to survey her meager possibilities, and stiffened in surprise when she found it teeming with food. Fresh fruits and vegetables filled the drawers, a gallon of milk and a gallon of freshly squeezed orange juice sat side by side, and lunch meat, a loaf of whole-wheat bread, a large, ready-made salad and a giant jar of pickles were arranged neatly on the shelves. A note was taped to the milk, written in a bold masculine hand, outlining the nutritional requirements of an expectant mother.

“Damn him!”

“Who?” Lisa followed her into the kitchen, her wrappers and McDonald’s sack crackling as she wadded them up for disposal.

“Thad Winters.”

“What’s he done now?”

Macy pushed the refrigerator door open wider so Lisa could see for herself.

“What a jerk!” she exclaimed. “He went and bought you at least a hundred dollars’ worth of groceries. I can’t think of anything worse.”

Rolling her eyes, Macy slammed the fridge door. “It’s the fact that he stocked my fridge without asking me. Doesn’t that strike you as a rather personal, not to mention, controlling, thing to do? He has no right to do stuff like that.”

“I’d call him on it, if I were you,” Lisa teased.

“This isn’t funny. I don’t think he should feel so free to make himself comfortable here.”

“He’s going to be living here in a few days!”

“That’s just it. He’s not living here yet. I still have five days. And I want every one of them.” She turned her back on the offending refrigerator and reached above the sink to make herself a cup of coffee, but she found a note there, too. “Caffeine causes birth defects,” it said in big block letters.

Lisa started laughing so hard she had to sit down.

“I can’t believe you,” Macy complained. “You’ve been on his side from the beginning.”