A Baby of Her Own

“Yeah, the only controversial thing about you is your strange name. That raised a few eyebrows when you first came to town. I still remember old Mrs. Hitchcock shaking her head and wanting to know what your mama could’ve been thinking. But you moved here when you were six, so we’ve had twenty-four years to get used to it, and it’s time for something new. I mean, look at you. You were a quiet, obedient child. You always got good grades. When we were teenagers, you won the baking contest at the county fair four years running, and you placed in the barrel racing, too. And now everyone stops by the house on Sundays to buy your pies, and when they walk away they say, ‘That Delaney’s just about the sweetest thing. I wonder when she’s gonna get married.’ Only there’s no one here to marry.”

“Most people would say there’s always Josh Hill,” Delaney said. “Or his brother.”

Rebecca stubbed out her cigarette. “You know how I feel about Josh Hill.”

“He’s not that bad. I don’t understand why you hate him so much.”

“I know him better than you do. Anyway, he’s seeing Mary Thornton, and his brother’s met someone from out of town. The Hill brothers aren’t exactly available. Which leaves Billy Joe or Bobby West or Perry Paris.”

Delaney made a face. “Marrying one of them would be like marrying my brother.”

“Exactly the reason I’m marrying someone who lives in Nebraska.” She folded her arms and leaned back. “That and the fact that he doesn’t know me very well. But my point is this—you can continue to let the town hem you into being perfect and proper and lonely your whole life. Or you can exchange one night of naughtiness for a baby. It’s up to you.”

“Isn’t that simply changing passive behavior for aggressive behavior? My goal is assertive behavior. Assertive behavior promotes ‘win-win’ solutions,” Delaney said, parroting her online coach.

“What’s a donor got to lose? I think most men would see hooking up with you as a win-win situation.”

Delaney took another sip of her margarita, savoring the salty taste and letting the ice melt in her mouth before swallowing. Every assertiveness assessment she’d ever taken had shown her as far too passive. She lived to please others, feared losing their esteem if she acted out or made a mistake. Maybe Rebecca was right. Maybe, instead of taking what life gave her, she should take what she wanted from life.

She smiled, thinking that sounded very assertive. Her coach would be proud. “I’d get to choose the father, see what he looks like. That beats the artificial method.”

“And getting pregnant the natural way is infinitely more fun than lying on your back in a sterile room where the only man within twenty yards is wearing a mask and surgical gloves, right? It’s been a long time since you were with a man. Don’t you miss it?”

Delaney quickly nodded. “Oh, yeah. Of course I do,” she said, but what she missed was having someone to love. Someone who’d love her, too. The physical aspect was nice—frosting on the cake, so to speak—but it meant nothing without love.

“When’s the last time you made love?” Rebecca asked.

“There was…you know, that one boy I told you about before,” Delaney said, trying not to fidget. “The one who came to stay with Mrs. Telfer the summer we turned seventeen.”

“Booker Robinson? He was a little bastard, wasn’t he? His parents sent him to the country to learn about hard work and manners because he was getting into too much trouble in the city, and he turned this town on its ear in less than a month.” She smiled wistfully as though she had rather liked Booker and didn’t think him a bastard at all. “That was the first time you were with a boy, but it wasn’t the last, was it?”

“Um, of course not. There was…um, Tim Downey, you know, on prom night.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“That’s it?”

“Isn’t that enough?” Delaney asked.

“That’s pretty pathetic for a thirty-year-old.”

Not for the daughter of a woman who rambled from town to town and changed men almost as often as she bought shoes. Maybe Delaney had gone to the opposite extreme, but at least she wasn’t like her mother. “I’ve been saving myself.”

“For spinsterhood. Great.” Rebecca finished her gin and tonic, ordered another one, and had the grace to wait until Maxine, the bar’s only waitress, headed back to the kitchen before adding, “Now I know why an illegitimate baby coming from you is going to scandalize the whole town.”

Something in Delaney’s face must have revealed her alarm at this idea because Rebecca added, “But they’ll get used to it.”

Delaney started wringing her hands. “You think so?”

“Sure. Look at how Millie and Ralph took you in and everyone in town’s adored you from day one. They’ll gossip and fuss and be amazed but, bottom line, they’ll secretly thank you for the juicy controversy and eagerly await the baby.”

The people of Dundee had been good to her. Delaney didn’t want to repay them by setting a bad example for the town’s youth, but Rebecca made getting pregnant sound so simple. One night in exchange for a baby. Delaney’s own baby. Someone to care for, someone to love. Someone to teach and to guide. Surely Dundee could forgive her one small indiscretion.

She moved closer. “If I do this, and happen to find…you know, someone who’s right, how do I know he won’t have AIDS or some other STD?”

Rebecca laughed. “Out here? In Idaho?”

“AIDS is everywhere,” Delaney said defensively.

“Well, your chances of getting an STD out here are pretty slim compared to most other places,” Rebecca said. “But I guess there’s no guarantee. The whole plan depends on a certain element of spontaneity, so you can’t exactly drag your target down to some clinic, right? All you can do is ask if he’s been tested and see whether you trust the answer.”

The smell of onion rings lingered in the wake of Maxine, who smiled as she bustled past them with platters of food for Johnny Coker and his new wife, a few tables away. “Your drink’s coming right up,” she told Rebecca.

“No problem.”

“What if he only practices safe sex?” Delaney asked when she thought Maxine was once again at a safe distance. “What good will a one-night stand do me if he uses a condom?”

“Probably more good than you think.”

Delaney scowled at the sarcasm in her friend’s voice. “Be serious.”

“I am serious. When the time comes, you just tell the guy that you’re on the pill, then get him so excited he forgets about everything else.”

Right. She just had to get him excited, that was all. A complete stranger! “I’ve always considered myself a better person than to do something like this,” she said so she wouldn’t have to focus on the mental picture of what it might take to get a man worked up to the point of total forgetfulness.

“You are a good person. This isn’t going to hurt anyone, Laney. It’s just a one-night stand—something that happens all the time with millions of people. You’ll go on your merry way, and he’ll go on his. No big deal.”

“What if I don’t get pregnant?”

“Then you might want to consider artificial insemination or simply wait and hope for the right person. But if you time it correctly, chances are good that it’ll work out.”

Delaney rubbed her lip. “It’s just one night. No big deal…”

“That’s what I said. People do it all the time.”

“It’s not hurting anybody.”

“What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. It’s not like you’re ever going to go after him for child support or anything. And you’d take great care of the baby, right?”

The baby. Her baby. A longing so powerful she could hardly speak clamped down on Delaney’s insides. “Of course I would.”

“Then, that’s what matters. So there’s no problem.”

“Right.” Delaney stared at her glass, thinking maybe she’d drunk too much because this whole thing was actually starting to seem plausible. But she wasn’t even finished her first margarita. “So who do I—you know?” she asked.

“Anyone with the right equipment,” Rebecca responded. “Look around you. This place is filled with guys. Dexter’s right over there. He’s been trying to get lucky since the eighth grade.”