by Elena Aitken
Maren squeezed her purse on her lap and forced herself to take a deep breath. She’d done a really good job controlling the panic that was just under the surface every time she thought about having a baby again. But it was a very tenuous grip she had on herself. Which was why it was so important that she kept her focus on all of the positive parts about being a mother again, and not on the reality of it.
“Maren?” Sabrina glanced her way. “Are you okay?”
“What do you mean? Of course. I’m fine.”
“Really?” Sabrina looked at her sideways. “Because you’ve been totally MIA. Barely answering my texts and…well, I’ve been worried about you and now you want to go shopping? I mean, you never want to go to the mall.” She laughed but Maren couldn’t bring herself to join in. “Seriously.” Sabrina’s laughter died off. “Are you okay? Really?”
It was the perfect time to tell her. She just had to open her mouth and tell her best friend she was pregnant and everything would be fine. But still, she couldn’t.
“Everything’s great,” Maren lied. “I think maybe I need a little bit more sleep. And is it so wrong to want to go shopping?” She forced a grin. “Now tell me, what are we looking for today?”
Maren sat back in the passenger seat while Sabrina rattled off a list of items she needed. Or thought she needed. Maren fought the urge to make a mental list of her own and the longer she sat and listened, the harder it got to say anything. And then when they got to the store and started shopping, Maren almost forgot about wanting to talk to her at all.
Almost.
“What do you think of this?” Sabrina held up the cutest baby-sized jean jacket Maren had ever seen. In the years since Rylee had been little, the baby clothes had become so much cuter, if it were even possible.
Maren put down the onesies she was looking at and took the jacket out of her friend’s hands. “It’s adorable. Like, seriously adorable. Your little guy is going to look so cute in this. Let me buy it for you. A gift from Auntie Maren.” She laughed and Sabrina tried to snatch it back, but there was no way Maren was going to let that happen. She’d bought Rylee so many things over the years, and spoiled her so completely, there was no way Maren was ever going to be able to repay her properly.
“Maren, you don’t have to do that.”
But she had already started walking toward the till. “You know what?” Maren changed the subject. “I was just thinking about how when we were kids we would talk about how great it would be to have babies at the same time. And raise them together. Remember?” It wasn’t the best bridge to the conversation, but it was the best she could come up with.
“Of course. But that ship has sailed.” Sabrina laughed. “I mean, Rylee is going to be way too old for my son. In pretty much all cultures. She’ll be more like an auntie than a friend. And that’s okay. I guess some things don’t always work out the way you think they will.” She shrugged and looked away.
Maren handed the jacket to the cashier and looked at Sabrina with a nervous smile. “You’re exactly right.” Her heart started to race, thinking of how excited Sabrina was going to be that they were actually going to get to raise their babies together. Maybe it was the one positive thing that was going to come out of all of this. Something she could hold onto and look forward to until her brain caught up with her body. Maren took a deep breath. “Maybe Rylee won’t be able to grow up with your son, but her brother or sister will be able to.”
Maren said the words quickly, swallowed hard, and clenched her teeth together in a Joker-like grin. She waited for Sabrina to squeal, laugh, grab her in a big hug, or react in some way that told her she was excited. Because of course she was excited. This was what they’d always talked about. What they’d always wanted.
But she didn’t. In fact, Sabrina didn’t say anything at all. At least not right away.
“Sabrina? Did you hear what I said?”
After a moment, Sabrina nodded slowly and blinked. “I think so.” Confusion lined her face as she looked up at Maren. “I mean, did you just say that my son will be able to grow up with Rylee’s brother or sister?”
Maren nodded.
“So…” Sabrina blinked again and spoke slowly. “Are you telling me that you are pregnant too?”
She nodded again.
Sabrina sucked in her bottom lip and bit down. “You’re pregnant?” The words came out extra slowly, as if she were trying to make sense of them.
“Yes,” Maren finally said. “I just found out a few days ago. My birthday, actually, and—”
Sabrina’s face hardened, her teeth clenched together, and in that instant, Maren’s heart sunk. Moments before it shattered altogether.
“You bitch.”
The words came out like knives, slashing through her. Maren squeezed her eyes shut as a defense mechanism, but nothing more came. She opened them just in time to see Sabrina spin on her heel and stalk away.
That wasn’t supposed to happen.
Maren looked from the cashier to Sabrina’s retreating form, back to the cashier, who looked apologetic and just as confused as Maren felt. She quickly scanned Maren’s credit card and finished the transaction. The cashier had only barely stuffed the jacket into a bag before Maren grabbed it and ran after her friend.
For a six-month pregnant woman, Sabrina was fast. She was already out in the parking lot by the time Maren caught up to her. “Sabrina! Sabrina, wait.”
She spun around and glared at her, stopping Maren in her tracks. “It always has to be about you, doesn’t it?”
Slightly out of breath, Maren pressed her hand to her chest. “What are you talking about? What has to be about me?”
“You’re having a baby.” Sabrina’s hands rested on her belly protectively. “It’s like you just can’t stand for me to have anything. You have to have it too.”
“What are you talking about? Lots of people have babies. This has nothing to do with you.”
“Doesn’t it?” Sabrina shook her head and made a sound of disgust before locking eyes on Maren again. “Our whole lives, it’s been about you. Your boyfriend, your wedding, your baby, your perfect life. And when finally, finally, I get something for myself—a family of my own—you can’t let me have it.” She shook her head again. “It was just too much for you, wasn’t it?”
It wasn’t too much. Not at all. But what was too much for Maren was standing there listening to the cruelty her friend was spewing at her. Was she fucking kidding? “Do you really think I did this on purpose?” Maren’s voice shook both from anger and the tears that threatened to spill over. “Is that really what you think of me? That I am so consumed by jealousy for you, that I would turn my entire life upside down to have a baby at forty when all I’ve been able to talk about was how excited I am for the next stage? Really?” She shook and was dangerously close to losing complete control, but she couldn’t do anything about that.
Especially when her best friend looked her in the eye, and said with a voice as cold as a Canadian glacier, “Yes. That’s exactly what I think you would do.”
“Fuck you, Sabrina.” Maren could only just barely control her voice. “Just… Fuck. You.” She threw the bag with the jean jacket in it at her, turned around and walked away.
Sabrina
She was pregnant? Maren? Pregnant?
Ridiculous.
But of course she was pregnant. The selfish bitch.
The mean-spirited thought slammed into Sabrina as she pointed her car home and sped out of the parking lot way too fast. She took a breath and forced herself to slow down. The last thing she needed was to be involved in an accident. Her gaze flicked down to her belly. She needed to remember what was important.
And it was not Maren’s baby.
Maren’s baby.
Mean-spirited or not, she couldn’t seem to stop the train of thought once she’d started it. Why the hell was Maren pregnant? Now? After so long?
Sabrina knew exactly why Maren was pregnant.
Of course.
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It was because she was pregnant.
Ever since they were teenagers, Maren never could let her have one thing for herself. Not one.
On autopilot, Sabrina navigated her car through the streets until she arrived in her parking space in front of her condo. She’d planned to run a few more errands before returning home, but there was no way she could be out in public when she was so mad.
Aware that she shouldn’t even be behind the wheel, Sabrina grabbed her things, slammed the car door behind her and ran to her front door.
Once inside, her anger seemed to dissipate a little bit. She looked around her comfortable space. She may not have planned to be a homeowner all of those years ago, but once her little condo was hers, she’d taken pride in decorating it. It had taken years, but piece by piece, Sabrina had picked items that made her feel good, and made her feel safe and warm. Home.
But now, fresh off Maren’s betrayal, she felt anything but safe and warm. She was agitated and restless.
For a flash, she felt guilty about leaving Maren the way she had at the mall with no ride. Of course, she probably hadn’t been alone long.
“Did Davis come to your rescue?” She spat the question at the framed photo of the two of them that sat on the mantel over her gas fireplace. “He probably ran right over to rescue you, didn’t he? So you could go home to your perfect house and your perfect husband and your perfect daughter and your perfect little baby.”
Tears flooded her eyes until the photo of the two of them blurred and she could no longer make out her best friend’s smiling face. The picture had been taken three years earlier on a summer trip they’d all taken to the beach. She and Maren had both been sunburnt, their noses pink. But a few too many vodka coolers meant they hadn’t cared. Despite herself, Sabrina smiled at the memory. But just for a second before turning away and storming up the stairs to her bedroom.
She should have a bath. That would calm her down.
But hadn’t she read in one of those stupid books that it wasn’t safe for the baby to have a bath?
Maybe if it wasn’t too hot.
She flicked on the taps and watched the steaming water fill the tub for a few minutes before wrenching the taps closed again and sitting hard on the edge of the tub.
No. If it wasn’t safe, she shouldn’t do it.
Maren wouldn’t take the chance.
A voice in her head that sounded oddly like a petulant four-year-old version of herself spoke up.
The logical part of her brain told her she was being ridiculous. But no matter how hard it tried, that part of her brain wouldn’t be heard over the noise of the completely illogical part of her brain that was screaming at her.
It was completely unfair that Maren was pregnant. And there was no doubt that she’d planned it out perfectly so her baby would have just the right due date while Sabrina’s little guy was going to be born in the summer and forever be destined to have a birthday party nobody would come to because all of his friends were on school holiday.
It was a detail Sabrina might have given some consideration, if she’d given any consideration at all to getting pregnant. Which she hadn’t.
Still sitting on the edge of the tub, she took another deep breath in an effort to calm herself.
Maren had it all. The great job, with a brand-new promotion. The successful, handsome husband. The beautiful, talented daughter. The perfect life. The perfect family.
The family.
Maren’s new baby would be welcomed into that family as if he or she had always been the missing piece. Davis would get up in the middle of the night and change diapers. No doubt Rylee would babysit her younger sibling, and spoil him or her silly, entertaining the baby while Maren grabbed a nap or made a delicious dinner without interruption.
And Sabrina would be alone. There wouldn’t be anyone there to help her.
But that had been her choice. She didn’t have anyone else to blame for that. Not really.
She’d told everyone that she’d made the choice to use a donor because she didn’t want anyone else getting in her way of raising her baby. And people believed it, too. Anyone who knew Sabrina, and how hardheaded she could be, didn’t even question her reasoning.
Until recently.
She remembered the way Maren had hinted around something at lunch the other day. But no, she didn’t know anything more. And even if she did suspect the truth, Sabrina couldn’t tell the truth now.
And using a donor? As far as her friends and family were concerned, using a donor had been the most responsible thing she’d ever done. Much more responsible than going out and getting knocked up with a completely unsuitable candidate to be her baby daddy. No. That would be incredibly irresponsible and Sabrina knew she’d never hear the end of it.
If everyone knew the truth, it would be a cloud over her unborn baby, tainting everything, and that wasn’t a fair thing to do to a baby. Lying had been a much better choice.
For everyone.
Maren
By the time Maren called a cab and got home, the last thing she wanted to do was talk to anyone. The fight with Sabrina continually played on a loop in her head. And every time, it made her cringe. They’d been friends forever. They’d been through almost everything together. And in all that time, they’d barely argued, let alone yelled at each other. And Maren had certainly never sworn at her before. Not in anger. Not like that.
Replaying it in her mind made her stomach turn, but not with the now all-too-familiar queasiness of morning sickness, but this time with the certainty that things had irrevocably changed between them. She felt terrible about yelling at Sabrina, but at the same time, she’d do it again. After all, Sabrina clearly didn’t have the same compunction about saying terrible things to her.
How could Sabrina say those things? How could she think for even one second that Maren had gotten pregnant because she was jealous? It was ridiculous.
Wasn’t it?
She rejected the thought the moment it entered her head. Of course it was ridiculous. She was excited about the future. About what a little more parental freedom would bring for her. The idea that even subconsciously she was jealous of Sabrina, when having a baby was the exact opposite of what she wanted, was ludicrous.
But that didn’t stop Maren from continually second-guessing herself as she made herself a peanut butter sandwich, and sent a quick text to both Rylee and Davis that she wasn’t feeling well and was going to bed early.
Okay, hon. I’m going to be a bit later than I thought anyway. Feel better.
Davis’s reply came in almost instantly. Maren couldn’t help but think that his long work day was very convenient considering they had so much to talk about. But there was no point arguing with him over text message. She’d done enough arguing for one night. Besides, there was no way she was in any state to have a serious conversation about their future anyway.
Thanks. Don’t work too hard. Love you.
She replied, adding a kissing emoji before clicking over to check Rylee’s response.
K.
Really? Maren tried not to groan. Would it kill the girl to type an actual response? With a sigh, Maren tapped in another reply.
Be home by eight. Love you.
It occurred to her afterward while she laid in bed with a cool washcloth on her forehead that she probably should have asked Rylee where she was, or what she was doing. But she was almost for sure with Sienna, watching videos. It wouldn’t hurt if she slacked off on her parenting for one night.
The sleeplessness that had plagued Maren earlier in the week must have finally caught up with her, because she fell into a deep sleep within minutes of lying down. She didn’t hear the door slam at five to eight when Rylee got home. Nor did she hear Davis get home just after midnight and slip into the bed next to her.
But something did wake her in the early hours of the morning. Jolted awake, her eyes struggled to fixate on anything in the still dark room. Her breathing came fast and her mind raced until finally,
the shadowy form of her dresser across the room with the stack of Davis’s T-shirts freshly washed and folded that she hadn’t gotten around to putting away yet came into focus.
Her room.
She was home.
Try as she might, Maren couldn’t grab hold of the tendrils of the dream that floated just out of her reach before vanishing altogether into the abyss of consciousness. Now awake, she scrubbed a hand over her face and looked to the alarm clock on her nightstand. Ten minutes to six. It was too early to get up. Yet, her body disagreed.
Five minutes later, after staring at the shadowy pile of T-shirts just long enough to annoy her that it was she and not Davis who felt any type of obligation to put them in the drawer, Maren kicked back the blanket and resigned herself to an early start.
It was Saturday, and usually on a Saturday, she and Davis would go to the farmers’ market together to pick up some fresh vegetables, maybe one of the delicious pies that the senior center liked to bring down to sell, or just do what they did best, which was to buy an overpriced coffee and wander from stall to stall, picking up produce, squeezing melons, and basically examine everything but not really buying much at all. It was one of her favorite things to do with Davis when Rylee was little, and she’d looked forward to the weekends, and time with the three of them all together where she wasn’t the only one in charge of the tiny little human who’d stolen her heart, yet needed so much attention. She’d craved adult attention in those early years. Not that she hadn’t loved being a mom. She had. More than anything else she’d ever done, Maren felt at home and at peace even with motherhood. But yet, the days full of talking in a high-pitched voice to a little human who only ever responded with varying types and volumes of cries, and the occasional smile, could at times drag on, leaving Maren lonely and needing time with Davis more than ever.
