First Comes Baby

Her father lifted his wineglass. “To my first grandchild.”

They all drank, Laurel taking the tiniest of sips before setting her glass down again.

Caleb handed Megan the bowl of rice to begin dishing up, then the salad to George Woodall.

He took it, but seemed unaware it was in his hand. “I don’t like the idea of you managing on your own, Laurel. Being a parent…it’s hard work.”

“You managed on your own, after Mommy died.”

“You girls were eleven and seven. And don’t you remember how tough that first year was? Meggie had to drop out of soccer. I just couldn’t get her to practices. You two went off to school every day in mismatched outfits, your hair barely brushed.”

“But in the end, you were a great parent.”

“You weren’t babies. Laurel, no matter how beat you are, there’ll be no one besides you to get up in the middle of the night, no one to give a bottle, get to day care when you’re held up…” He shook his head. “You know I’ll do what I can, but I’m a long way from retirement age. And Meggie seems to work twelve-hour days.”

“It’s not that bad,” Laurel’s sister said. “Although… Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve ever actually held a baby. You know I never babysat.”

Megan hadn’t liked little kids. By the time she was ten or twelve, she’d curl her lip and say, “Ew, kids.” Laurel wasn’t expecting a whole lot in the babysitting department from her sister, at least until her child was of an age to start learning to navigate the Internet.

“I don’t expect a lot of help.” Laurel accepted the rice from her sister. “Daddy, dish up.”

He looked down uncomprehendingly at the bowl still in his hand, then transferred some salad to his plate and handed it to Caleb. Poor Caleb, who had slaved in the kitchen and was probably starving. He always was.

To reassure her father, Laurel talked about some of the research she’d done on maternity leave, neighborhood day-care centers and mothers’ groups.

“I do plan to be here,” Caleb interrupted, when she was waxing eloquent about her ability to handle her job and a baby with one hand tied behind her back.

His scowl was for her. He wasn’t jumping in to make her dad feel better, he was irked at her for leaving him out of her calculations.

As if the two of them were alone at the table, she said, “You travel so much.”

“I can curtail it when you need me. I have people working for me who’ll be glad to take over.”

“But…I didn’t ask you to change your life.”

His face darkened. “I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t going to be just a biological father. That if I signed on, it was going to be the real deal.”

“I didn’t expect you to change diapers, either.”

“Why not? Don’t fathers do that?” He shot a glance at George.

“I did,” her dad agreed.

“I’ll be here, Laurel,” Caleb repeated.

Absurdly, her eyes were filling with tears. Pressing her lips together, she nodded, then dabbed at her eyes with her napkin.

As touched as she was, Laurel was a bit annoyed when her father seemed to relax after this exchange, apparently reassured that Caleb intended to do his manly duty. Hadn’t he raised her and Megan to be strong, independent women who could cope with whatever life threw at them? Apparently, single parenting wasn’t one of those things.

She tried to excuse him. He was from another generation that still had faith in traditional two-parent homes. But the world had changed. Look how many gay and lesbian couples had children, how well open adoption was working, how single mothers banded together to share their loads.

But Laurel couldn’t shake the feeling that if Meg had made the same announcement, he wouldn’t have been so alarmed. Her father doubted her ability to handle the stress of single parenthood, not the ability of women in general or even of his daughters in particular. Despite his support, in the end he was just like everyone else. He didn’t understand why she couldn’t go back to being herself, the Laurel who hadn’t been taught how powerless she really was, who hadn’t faced death, who hadn’t spent weeks in the hospital recovering from broken bones and swelling that compressed her brain. And because she couldn’t, he assumed she was weak, that she would falter as a mom.

Knowing he thought like that stung.

But her father being her father, he disarmed her hurt and resentment before dinner was over. He set down his fork, looked at her and said, “Laurel, I want you to know that I didn’t mean to imply you can’t do this on your own.” His smile held regret and remembered grief. “I just wish you didn’t have to.”

“Oh, Daddy!” Blinking back more tears—damn, she wished she didn’t cry so easily these days—Laurel stood and hugged him. With her eyes closed, the familiar scent of him in her nostrils, and his strong arms closed around her, she felt so safe.

Straightening away from him was a wrench, just as moving out of his house the second time had been. She couldn’t be Daddy’s little girl forever, and she would forever know she wasn’t really safe.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and went back to her place at the table.

When he and Megan left an hour later, Caleb was at her side to wave goodbye.

“I really appreciate you coming,” she told him, assuming he was leaving, too.

“Hmm? Oh, no problem.”

“Are you taking off, too?”

“I thought I’d hang around for a while.”

“Okay,” she said, although he hadn’t asked for permission.

Inside, he asked, “How’s the stomach?”

She’d remembered what the doctor said and barely nibbled. “Actually, I feel fine,” she said with surprise.

“Good. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you some herbal tea?”

That sounded nice. Grateful everyone had helped clean up, Laurel headed toward the couch, ready to relax.

That is, until behind her Caleb continued, his tone flat. Maybe even hard. “And then, you and I need to have a talk.”

CHAPTER FOUR

LAUREL’S VOICE ROSE. “What do you mean, I’m trying to shut you out?”

“That seems clear enough to me.” Caleb paced her miniature living room, three steps one way, three the other. He considered himself an easygoing guy, but tonight she’d enraged him almost as much as she had when she asked another man to father her baby. “Didn’t you just spend the last two hours trying to convince your dad how competent you are to single-handedly raise our child?”

“I was trying to make him understand my decision!” She sat on the couch, glaring up at him, her head turning as he passed in front of her.

“I thought it had become our decision.”

“I made the decision to have a baby long before…”

“I butted into it?” he interrupted.