Feels Like Family

Maddie’s brows drew together. “Then why do you look so unhappy? Isn’t that exactly the news you were hoping for?”

Helen nodded. “Then I bumped straight into reality. Getting pregnant isn’t the slam dunk I thought it would be. I mean, some women get pregnant just by going to bed with somebody once, but somehow I don’t see myself going out and having some casual fling, hoping to get a baby out of it.”

Maddie smiled. “Yes, I imagine you’d want to know the man’s entire medical history and his pedigree, which pretty much rules out the whole casual thing.”

Helen frowned at her because the remark hit a little too close to the truth. “My point is that this should mean something, you know? I can’t imagine telling my son or daughter someday that I met their dad in a bar and never saw him again.”

“Okay. What about artificial insemination?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Helen said. “Even did some research on fertility clinics that do the procedure. There are very reputable ones. I could either bring in a donor or use one of their anonymous ones.” She struggled to put her feelings into words. “It just seems so, I don’t know, artificial. To be honest,” Helen went on, “my reaction threw me. You know me. I take charge. I don’t think I need anybody for anything, but the idea of having a baby that way seemed too cold and impersonal.”

“So you’ve just given up?” Maddie asked, clearly surprised.

“No,” Helen protested. “I’ve just taken a step back. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Making lists?” Maddie asked.

“Yes, I’ve made lists,” Helen replied. “If more people did that, they’d make fewer mistakes.”

“Whoa!” Maddie said. “On any level whatsoever, do you see having a child of your own as a mistake?”

Helen winced at the heat in Maddie’s voice. “Don’t say it like that. I told you that getting pregnant was only one of my concerns. What if I’m too selfish, too self-absorbed, too busy to be a really good mom?”

“Ah, so that’s it,” Maddie said. “Self-doubts plague just about everyone contemplating having a baby for the first time. You’re not unique.”

“I’m trying to be responsible,” Helen said defensively. “I’m older. I’m alone. Is that going to be the best thing for a child? By the time my child’s in kindergarten, the other kids will have grandmas my age.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Maddie said.

“Only a little bit.”

“Do you want to know what I think?” Maddie asked, then went on without waiting for Helen’s reply. “I think you’re just plain scared. This would be a huge step, a big change in your life and for all of your claims to being a modern, totally independent woman, you’re terrified that you’ll finally find something in life at which you can’t excel.”

Miffed at Maddie’s perceptiveness, Helen said, “Well, you have to admit it would be a really bad thing to mess up.”

“Okay, let’s go back to basics,” Maddie suggested, studying Helen intently. “Are you really sure you want a baby? Or do you just like the idea of having a baby?”

Helen regarded her miserably. “I wish I knew.”

“Have you ever known yourself not to go after something you really, really wanted?” Maddie pressed.

“Are you saying you don’t believe I want a child at all?” Helen asked, startled by the thought.

“I’m only suggesting that your biological clock started ticking loudly when I got pregnant with Jessica Lynn and you realized it was now or never.” She reached for Helen’s hand. “Maybe it’s never, sweetie. Not every woman has to have a child to be fulfilled. Maybe what you’re really longing for is a powerful connection to another person.”

“A man?” Helen asked incredulously. “You’re suggesting I forget about a baby and just find myself a man? Now there’s an enlightened point of view. Come on, Maddie. I think I know myself a little better than that. Besides, of all people, I know that relationships don’t always last. Why would I want to set myself up for heartache?”

“I’m just telling you that maybe what you’re feeling is an emptiness in your life that could be filled in some other way. If you haven’t taken steps by now to have a baby, then perhaps on some subconscious level, you know that’s not really what you want.”

“Or maybe I just want one the old-fashioned way,” Helen retorted, annoyed that Maddie was questioning her determination, even if she was asking questions Helen had asked herself a million times. “Did you ever think of that? Maybe I want a man and a baby and the whole family thing that you and Dana Sue have.”

“But you just said…” Maddie began, obviously confused.

Helen could hardly blame her. She was confused herself. To her dismay, tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Excuse me. I need to get out of here.”

“Helen?” Maddie called after her. “Come back here. Let’s talk about this.”

But Helen made a clean getaway—which she’d hear about later. In fact, she’d probably find Maddie and Dana Sue on her doorstep before the sun set. Although, maybe by then she’d somehow figure out what the hell was really going on with her and why this decision about a baby was the only one she’d ever been incapable of making.

Erik had come to work early, hoping to get enough done to cut out the second Dana Sue arrived and thereby avoid another conversation about his love life, or lack thereof.

He was surprised when the back door inched open and Annie Sullivan, Dana Sue’s daughter, stuck her head in. “Is it okay to come in?” the seventeen-year-old inquired. “Are you really busy?”

“Just getting a head start on my day,” he said, gesturing for her to come in. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Not for another hour,” Annie told him, dropping her books by the door and climbing onto the stool beside his prep area. “My mom’s not around, is she?”

“No. Why?” he asked. “Were you hoping she would be?”

“No. Actually I wanted to talk to you.”

Erik regarded her suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because you’re a guy and you’re not my dad.”

“An unbiased male point of view is what you’re after,” he concluded. “Are you sure I’m the right person? I’m not exactly a relationship expert. I assume this is about Ty.”

She grinned. “Of course.”

Ever since Annie’s hospitalization with severe complications from anorexia, she and Maddie’s son Tyler had gotten closer. They’d always been family friends, but Annie had wanted more, and Ty seemed to be showing some interest at long last. They’d been on half a dozen “real” dates, as Annie liked to call them, before Ty left for college, though both of them stopped short of saying they were actually a couple.

“What’s your question?” Erik asked, studying her closely for signs that she’d fallen back into her old harmful eating patterns. It didn’t matter how frequently he saw her, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from checking. Fortunately her complexion had a healthy glow, her hair was shining, and even more telling, she was wearing clothes that fit and showed off a figure that was still a little on the thin side, but far from the skeletal form it had been a year ago.

“You know Ty’s at Duke,” she began.

Erik bit back a grin. “You’ve mentioned it a time or two since he left for school last fall.”

Annie frowned at his teasing. “I mention it so much because it’s amazing that I actually know a guy who’s at Duke and who’s the star of their baseball team, even though he’s only a freshman. What’s even more amazing is that we go out once in a while to movies and parties. He’s even…” She blushed furiously.

Erik’s gaze narrowed. “He’s even what?”

“Kissed me,” she confessed shyly. “It was totally awesome.”

Although he wasn’t her father, Erik felt like it sometimes, so close was he to the family. And like a father he did not want to hear about any guy, even a responsible young man like Tyler, kissing Annie. For sure Ronnie wouldn’t be thrilled about it, either, even if kids their age often did a whole lot more than kiss. Still, maybe it was a good sign that Annie was talking about it. If things had gone beyond the kissing stage, he suspected she’d keep it to herself. He was so out of his depth with this stuff!

“You know there’s nothing amazing about Ty liking you,” he told her, opting for a lesson in self-esteem. “You’re a terrific young woman. You could have a dozen boyfriends at a dozen different colleges if you wanted them.”

“You’re just biased, like my dad,” she scoffed. “Anyway, my question is whether I should ask Ty to come home to take me to my senior prom or whether that would be totally lame.”