by Edie Ramer
She opened her eyes. Yesterday while driving home from the hardware store, she’d spotted a couple neighbors on their knees in their gardens. With each passing day, she silently prayed that she and Trey had planted a different kind of seed. As soon as she had time, she planned on driving to Tomahawk to buy a pregnancy test. The Wegner’s sold them, but no unmarried women in Miracle would buy one there. Anyone who did that might as well post a sign in their front yard that read: I’m a slut and might be pregnant.
She headed to the second storage building. When she reached the first one, she felt a cramp in her stomach.
Despite the warm air, her skin chilled.
And the feeling of sparkles in her tummy disappeared. Just like that. As fast as a snap of fingers.
No, her mind screamed. No.
She kept going, but her smile was gone and she was breathing faster. By the time she reached the last storage building where Sarah was restoring carved angels on a wooden wall sculpture for Elsa’s church, the pain was gone.
Becky inhaled deeply. This had to be a one-time glitch. Maybe she’d eaten something that disagreed with her. After all, Bad Fortune had been knocking stones down on her and Sarah, and it was time for some good stuff.
Hearing her enter, Sarah stood and arched her body. Her baby bump was more prominent every week, and she put her hands on the small of her back. It had been two weeks since the get-together at the house. Nearly three since the night Marsh had been killed.
Nearly three since the broken condom incident.
“The baby hurting your back?” Becky asked.
“Bending over the worktable for twenty minutes is hurting my back.” She nodded at Becky. “What about you? You’re not used to this work. Any backaches yet?”
Becky remembered the stomach cramp, but that was gone already, and it had happened so fast it didn’t count. No need to imagine catastrophes. Plenty happened without having to make up crap. Besides, she wasn’t even sure that she was pregnant.
“The backs of my thighs are killing—”
A swift pain low in her belly cut off her sentence.
Oh no. Oh God, no.
It was followed by another one. And suddenly she knew for sure that the bloating she’d felt this morning wasn’t because she was pregnant.
She put her hand over her stomach. Tried to smile but knew she failed.
“I think I started my period.”
“Shit,” Sarah said. “Shit.”
Becky hurried out of the building, her jaw tight, her mouth set, holding back her tears.
There was no baby.
And the horrible part was that she knew there never would be one.
Next to her mother’s and her brother-in-law’s deaths, this was the blackest moment of her life.
A car was coming down the road, but she didn’t look, not even when it stopped. Right now she couldn’t bear to talk to anyone. She feared the only thing that would come out of her mouth would be a long, mournful scream.
Chapter Thirty-six
Becky stayed in the bathroom for about twenty minutes, but Sarah and someone she’d brought with her into the kitchen didn’t go away. She heard murmurs and between her sobbing breaths, the refrigerator door opened and the microwave bell dinged. Someone eating or drinking... Going on with life while she worked her way through the first four stages of grief.
A fast process because there was nothing to grieve about. Never had been. She wasn’t delusional. The pregnancy had been a tiny possibility, never a certainty.
It started with the message about the miracle in the church parking lot. And then there were the sparkles. As far as she knew, no one else had seen the sparkles. She’d never said she was pregnant aloud – she’d even hushed the thought every time it occurred – but it had seemed that she must be the one who would receive a miracle.
A baby.
She’d been wrong. So wrong it was now a joke on her.
She looked at her reddened eyes in the mirror and told herself if Sarah could make it through her great sorrow for Marsh without falling apart too often – at least not in public – she certainly could over this.
She put on her moisturizer again. Nothing she could do about her eyes or her nose that looked as if she could substitute for Rudolf in December, but at least her complexion wasn’t splotched with red.
Combing her hair, she thought Trey would be glad when she reported to him that she wasn’t pregnant. And now she wouldn’t have to drive to Tomahawk for a pregnancy test.
These thoughts brought on another round of tears until her cheeks were blotched along with everything else. She finally sniffed back the tears and splashed cold water on her face.
She was tired of being depressed. Tired of crying in the bathroom and feeling sorry for herself. If she couldn’t have a baby, there were other things she could do. Positive things. Perhaps not now with her life in flux. But later.
Breathing deeply, she stood with her spine straight and her chin high. Opened the door. Strode out. Here I am world. Becky Maria Hoffman Diedrich, soon to be Hoffman again.
Or another name, she thought, heading into the kitchen.
Maria. Her middle name was Maria after her mother’s mother. It was a good name. Using it, she could reinvent herself. She had a home with Sarah now. She had half the money from her savings with Jim – enough to keep her going for a while. She would get half their investments, too. She wasn’t penniless. But she realized her most valuable asset was the people who loved her.
Not many people were as lucky as she was.
The sight of Elsa in the other room made her relax her militant, don’t-pity-me stance. She even felt a small measure of happiness. Since she’d left Jim, she’d lost people she’d believed were friends. But it was good, because she’d found out who her real friends were. She’d reconnected with her sister and her nephew. She had a dog.
Her best new friend – besides Trey – was Elsa. Every time Elsa smiled, it was like being in the sunlight. In fact, Elsa was smiling right now as she stood and held out her arms to Becky.
Becky went straight into Elsa’s arms. They were the same height, and Elsa hugged her tightly, as if she were concentrating on sending love into her.
When Elsa’s grip finally loosened, Becky drew back. “My mom used to hug like that.”
Elsa blinked, and her smile was wobbly. She put her hand up, her fingertips touching Becky’s lips.
Becky gasped, slammed with a sudden sense, a memory. Something she’d thought she’d forgotten. “My mom used to do that. She called it kissing with her fingers.”
“My grandmother used to do that, too. She must have taught it to your mother.”
“My mother knew your grandmother?” Sarah asked.
“We had the same grandmother.” Elsa looked from one to the other. “Your mother and I were cousins.”
Sarah’s mouth gaped, and Becky was sure hers was doing the same thing. “I’m...delighted.” Becky said. “And kind of mystified about the secrecy. I would’ve loved to have known you as a kid.”
“I lived in California.”
“California isn’t the end of the world,” Sarah said.
Becky nodded. “Was it because of Dad? Is that why didn’t you tell us earlier?”
“There’s a...history in our family.” She smiled. “I promised not to tell you.”
“But you’re telling us now.”
“Only part of it. And you’re adults now.” She looked from Sarah to Becky and her smile straightened. “One of the two people I made the promise to is no longer on this earth. I think now she would want me to tell you that there’s a family connection.”
“Our mom,” Becky said.
“And the other one?” Sarah’s voice came out in a whisper.
Elsa looked at her sadly. “The other one may not be acting in your best interests.”
“I can guess who that is.” Becky frowned. “I don’t see how Dad’s acting in his own best interests, either. I don’t get it.”
“He’s acting out of fear. Fear is never a good place to be. Not for anyone.”
Meeting Sarah’s frowning gaze, Becky saw the same confusion she guessed must be in her face. What was it that their father feared?
“You’ve been crying,” Elsa said. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”
Becky shared another long look with Sarah. Elsa leaned forward and touched her arm lightly. “That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”
As if Elsa had turned on a switch, Becky poured out the pathetic tale of her paucity of eggs. All these years she hadn’t talked to anyone but Sarah about it – and Sarah only recently. Her father had emphasized that she and Jim must come to the parishioners from a place of strength. Jim had bought into her father’s viewpoint, though she privately questioned it, thinking her own troubles would make her more empathetic to the congregation.
But who had she been to argue with these two leaders of the community? Both older than her. Both so secure in who they were.
The only thing Becky had been sure about was that she needed to try her best to deserve their respect. Try to deserve everyone’s respect. Even if it felt like she was burying her true self.
Talking about her desire for a baby, and her disappointment now was actually a relief.
Her true self was bursting into life now. She’d told herself she wouldn’t cry, but she lied. More tears welled up in her eyes.
Sarah held one of her hands, Elsa the other. Becky sniffed and let go of Sarah’s hand to grab a napkin and dab it at her cheeks, blinking back more tears.
Enough tears. Enough self-pity. Enough sadness.
“You’d make a wonderful mother,” Elsa said.
“I know.” Becky shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, as if tears weren’t threatening to swim out of her eyes again and dive down her face.
“Do you care if it’s not your egg?” Elsa asked.
Sarah gasped and brought up both hands over her breastbone. “I never thought of that. After I have the baby, I can donate eggs to you.” Her voice rose with excitement. “On my next check-up, I’ll ask about it.”
“I had my eggs harvested years ago.” Elsa stared into Becky’s eyes with a curious intensity. “I never used them for myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to let them go.”
She paused, and Becky held her breath, her heart thumping in her chest as she waited to see what Elsa would say next.
Waited and while she did, hope began to grow.
Chapter Thirty-seven
“I’d be happy to give you whatever you need,” Elsa said.
“I’m her sister,” Sarah said. “I should do it.”
“And I’m a second cousin.” Elsa leaned forward, her gaze intent on Becky, as if she were focused on convincing her. “We share genes. When I was your age, I looked a lot like you.” Then she turned to Sarah, her shoulders more relaxed. “Besides, it’s pricey and the procedure isn’t very comfortable. I’m not sure what the costs for egg harvesting are now, but I believe it’s over ten thousand dollars.”
Sarah sat back, then forward again, turning to Becky, her chin mulish – mirroring a look she’d gotten from their father. She opened her mouth, and Becky held out her hand, stopping her from arguing.
“Save your money for Cody’s college fund.”
“He might be a picker.”
Becky lowered her hand. “Then you can start him out with a hefty down payment for a new truck.”
“You have an answer for everything.”
“Of course. I’m your older sister.” Becky turned to Elsa and opened her mouth to thank her...
And the room filled with sparkles. So bright, so radiant, it was hard to see anything else. Hundreds, no thousands of sparkles. Tiny twinkling stars filled Sarah’s kitchen. Filled it with possibilities. With magic. With miracles.
Becky gasped. Awe filled her. Pure awe.
The sparkles blinked out, leaving Becky gawking at a plain kitchen with a white refrigerator covered with pictures of Cody’s drawings. But in her mind, Becky still saw the sparkles. And she felt overwhelmed by the sense of magic. Overwhelmed by Elsa’s generosity.
She turned her gaze to Elsa’s face and saw tears glimmering in her eyes. “I don’t want you to thank me,” Elsa said, her voice rougher than usual. “It’s my honor to do this. I can’t guarantee that it will work, but I can tell you that I have a very good feeling about this. Very good.”
Becky grabbed her hand so tightly that Elsa winced. Becky immediately let go. She leaned forward. “This is the most generous thing anyone has done for me. I know this will work.” Her breathless voice reflected her inner wonderment. “I know it.”
“Are you forgetting that you’ll need one more thing?” Sarah asked.
Becky whipped her gaze to her sister. “What?”
“Sperm. You’ll need sperm.”
Instantly Becky pictured Trey.
“You could contact a sperm bank,” Else said.
Becky frowned. Not sure how she felt about that. Her baby would be created from a donated frozen egg and sperm from an anonymous man. It would be...manufactured. Impersonal. Created without any emotion. A robo baby.
Of course the baby would be manufactured any way she did it. It wasn’t just that. It was...
She bowed her head. When she’d woken this morning, her first thought was that she might be pregnant with Trey’s baby. And she’d been quietly ecstatic.
She wanted that sheer happiness back. She wanted her baby to be Trey’s baby.
“I could.” Lifting her head, Becky gave Elsa a small smile, hiding her thoughts and hopes and uncertainties. “That will be Plan B.”
“You have Plan A picked out?” Elsa’s left eyebrow arced and her lips curved up.
Remembering Trey’s dismayed expression when she told him about the condom problem, Becky grimaced. “I can’t count on it. It’s a long shot.”
“It’s a good idea to go after the long shots. You might be surprised at the outcome.”
“I’m surprised a lot lately.”
Sharp barks and a hiss came from the puppy room. Sarah stood, frowning slightly. But instead of leaving right away, she put her hands on the table and leaned over it, her gaze on Elsa. “Do you mind telling us why you froze your eggs?”
Elsa gave a half shrug and a half smile. “I suppose I should.”
Becky touched Elsa’s right arm. “Not if you don’t want to.”
Elsa put her slim fingers over Becky’s, her fingertips cool, just for one second. Then she shifted and Becky drew back her hand.
“It’s fine now.” Elsa spoke in a low voice. “I was married to an artist. He was paralyzed in an accident after we’d been married only a few years. I loved him deeply, but I knew that one day I might want children. Andrew was the one who convinced me to harvest my eggs. In case mine dried up by the time he died.”
Sarah breathed in a harsh breath and Becky sucked in her lips, feeling for Elsa and her husband. Though Elsa smiled, Becky was close enough to see the sadness in her shadowed eyes.
“I had to take care of him, so having a baby wasn’t possible while he was alive.” Elsa gave the same sad smile again. “It was my privilege. I was past fifty when he gave up the fight, and then I traveled. Finally I thought I’d come here to the place my mother lived until she was a teenager.” She reached out a hand to Sarah and one to Becky. She looked from one sister to the other as they gripped her hands. The three of them connected. “I’ve been around the world but something called me here. Now I think it was you two, my extended family. I’ve wanted to tell you so many times before this...”
Becky’s heart opened. Like a page in a book unfolding, she thought. Making room for new words, new pages, new people to love.
Elsa was one of them.
The puppy was another. It had snuck into her heart on first glance. Even before Cody’s pleas, she’d wanted him. He just gave her an excuse to do it.
And her heart was open for a baby. Wide open.
> Now all she had to do was convince Trey that he should be the lucky father.
Chapter Thirty-eight
The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and garlic and tomatoes and olive oil. Becky hoped that at least one of the smells made a particular man say yes to pretty much anything. Like ‘Will you donate your sperm and make a baby with a donated egg?’
It had been a long week and a half since Elsa’s generous offer. Becky had seen Trey once when he brought parts and a couple of motorcycles to the storage building. He’d popped in to say ‘hi,’ but just stayed to tell her he was on his way to someplace else.
Now Trey was back again and said he planned to remain in his Tomahawk condo for a few weeks. As she checked the sweet potato for doneness, she felt his gaze on her ass. A good start to a date night, she thought, despite what Sarah said about her lack of booty.
When she’d talked to Trey on the phone, he’d said he liked Greek food, so she made a moussaka dish with eggplant and feta cheese – using a recipe Jim had never liked. As she prepared it earlier, Sarah had asked, ‘Is the moussaka a test?’ Becky had said, ‘No, it’s dinner.’
But perhaps it was a test. Perhaps if he didn’t like her food, then he wouldn’t like her to have his baby. Even if she swore that she’d never expect money from him. Swore that she’d never expect him to be a father to the baby.
Not that he’d agree to that. Not after what he’d said subsequent to the split condom incident. After all, he’d come back to Wisconsin as soon as he found out about Scott. He turned his life upside down for his son. One reason she admired him so much.
No wonder she wanted his sperm. How would she know if an anonymous sperm donor had those qualities?
“How’re Sarah and Cody holding up?” he asked.
“They’re...surviving.” She put the moussaka on the table, along with the garlic green beans she’d cooked earlier that day and was serving cold with almonds and green onions. She went back for the potatoes.
