Mothers of the Year

by Lori Handeland

  Luckily, Tyler had a long reach—a handy thing on a basketball court, where he’d made many of his best high school memories. An essential for a career in corralling hyperactive school children into organized physical activity. He snagged Dakota and turned him around.

  “First.” He tightened his grip when the boy tensed for another sprint. “Apologize to Mrs. Brooks and Ms. Lawson. Second, help clean up their—” Tyler gazed at the piles of fuzzy white stuff, brown fabric and what looked like overweight chickens strewn about the floor “—whatever. Then you and I are meeting Nathan at the AP’s office for a little chat.”

  “Nathan?” Dakota peered up at Tyler.

  “He started the fight, didn’t he? He’s going to stand up for his part in what happened.”

  Mr. Confrontation looked younger, suddenly. Confused. Tyler smiled over his student’s head, catching his wife’s nod of approval. He squeezed Dakota’s shoulder and shoved him forward.

  “S-sorry,” Dakota said to Lily and Ashley.

  Sincerity and belligerent ten-year-olds…an unnatural combination if Tyler had ever seen one. The kid began clearing his mess, mumbling under his breath. Something about how stupid adults were.

  That kind of spunk was a good thing, Tyler reminded himself, not a pain in the ass. A child like Dakota learned to be tough from the cradle. Had to stay that way just to get through the day. Tyler understood that better than most. More than he cared to.

  Lily motioned him closer to the door.

  “New student?” Her brown eyes drank him in. When they were in their nineties, she’d still be able to bring him to his knees with just one look.

  “Dakota started with Alma Rushing’s class on Monday. He’s having a little trouble settling in with the other kids.”

  “So it would seem.” Lily held his gaze until he was the one to look away, hiding the need to pull her closer. “Sounds like he and Nathan’s problems are more than just boys being boys in PE. You’re going to make sure that Ms. Emory gives him a break?”

  “Yeah, I’ll handle it.”

  “You always do.”

  He frowned at the accusation in her tone, then started when she took his hand, reaching for him for the first time since she’d moved out. Their fingers tangled together out of habit. A perfect fit.

  “You’re amazing when you’re fighting for one of your kids.” Her smile was hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure of its welcome. “You’re going to make a great father.”

  Tyler’s throat stung against the urge to start a conversation they couldn’t have. Not there. Enough of their personal issues had already followed them to school, if even his newest student knew about their separation.

  Temporary separation.

  It had only been two weeks. It just felt like forever.

  He squeezed her fingers and kissed them. Kept the rest to himself. The sparkle in her eyes dimmed at his nonresponse.

  “Ready for our appointment at four?” she asked.

  It wasn’t really a question.

  “How about I meet you there, as soon as I get things settled in the gym?”

  It wasn’t really an answer.

  With a worried nod, Lily turned to help clean up whatever she and Ashley had been working on. Tyler dove in, too, his mind racing with the two battles looming before him that afternoon. And he’d be damned if he felt ready to tackle either.

  He had to find a way to get Dakota to fight for his second chance. Then he had to convince his wife to accept the truth that had come as a crushing blow to them both, before what was left of their marriage slipped away.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “BUT YOU SAID my blood pressure had stabilized,” Lily glanced to Tyler for support. She received a grim frown instead.

  She shifted in her chair to face their fertility specialist.

  Alone.

  Why did it feel like she was doing this alone, when—

  “We want a baby, Dr. Gruber. As long as there’s a chance IVF can work for us, we’re willing to try—”

  “As long as it’s safe,” Tyler interrupted. “If not, we’ll find another way.”

  “I feel fine, I just—”

  “Can’t walk up and down the stairs half the time, without having to sit down you’re so dizzy.” Tyler bent forward in his chair and braced his arms on his thighs. “Your heart races as if you’re having panic attacks, Lily. You’re blood pressure bottoms out—last time while you were driving, and you woke up in a ditch.”

  “But I’m feeling much better.” It sucked to be looking to the doctor, instead of her husband, for support. “You said things are better.”

  “Yes,” Dr. Gruber agreed with a total lack of enthusiasm. “Since you stopped your protocol of progesterone and Clomid, your symptoms have leveled off a bit. Still, we need to monitor your condition for a longer period of time. I wouldn’t call the side effects you’ve experienced fine. Going back on the medication before we learn more could be life threatening.”

  “We knew there would be risks,” she argued.

  Fertility treatments came with warning after warning. But there’d been nothing in the pamphlets Lily had memorized about the strain on her marriage. Or her childhood sweetheart living in their home while she’d spent the past two weeks at Ashley’s apartment, because she couldn’t bear to look at the man she loved.

  “It’s worth it,” she insisted. The same thing she’d kept telling herself, as she lied about the exhaustion and nausea and vertigo that hadn’t gone away as much as she needed the doctor and Tyler to believe. “We’ll do whatever we have to do.”

  “Not if it means risking your health.” Tyler’s worried gaze caressed every curve of her face. “I want you home and healthy, whatever we have to do to make that happen. If that means not trying to have a baby for a while, or you taking some time off work to get your strength back, we’ll deal with it.”

  “But…no!” She looked back and forth between her reluctant husband and her reluctant doctor. “You said we’re good candidates for in vitro fertilization.”

  Gruber’s cautious nod wasn’t what she’d call encouraging. “Given the extent of your endometriosis and the fact that your challenges conceiving haven’t responded to drug treatment alone, my recommendation would typically be to increase the strength of the hormone therapy and start you on a regimen working toward IVF.” He shook his head. “But—”

  “Then let’s get started.”

  She didn’t want to hear any more buts. She wanted to go home and put all the worrying behind them and get back to making her and Tyler’s dream of having a baby a reality.

  “Not every woman’s body can tolerate the treatments,” Dr. Gruber reasoned. “IVF would likely mean more side effects for you. Volatile mood swings. Unpredictable weakness. Equilibrium problems. The likelihood of your body being able to tolerate in vitro after the difficulties you’re already having would be—”

  “As slim as me actually conceiving naturally?”

  I’m sure you’ll pull it off as effortlessly and successfully as you do everything else, Ms. Emory’s voice whispered through her mind.

  When it came to creating someone else’s fairy-tale Mother’s Day moment, Lily was the woman for the job. It was fighting for a family of her own that she was failing at.

  “This isn’t the end, honey.” Tyler leaned closer, her white knight. Her Prince Charming. There’d never been any challenge he couldn’t conquer. “Together, we’re going to make it work.”

  She flinched, terrified by how much she wanted to believe him. How much she needed him to still be in this with her.

  “Rreally?” she whispered. “You mean, you really want to keep trying? I know things are a mess, but this time we’ll know what we’re up against. I’ll be more careful and try harder to—”

  “No.” He cupped her cheek and thumbed away the tears spilling over her lashes. “I mean, we’ll find a way to be parents that doesn’t put your health at risk. We’ll get free of all this for a while and talk about our op
tions.”

  Free?

  Alternatives?

  What he wanted to do together was give up.

  Don’t leave, he’d begged her two weeks ago, after Gruber recommended not refilling the prescriptions her body needed to get pregnant. She’d wanted to keep trying, to push the doctor for more time. She and Tyler had argued that night. He’d flushed her remaining medication down the toilet, charging full-steam ahead, ready to make the best out of their bad situation, while she became hysterical.

  I hate you, she’d yelled as she’d packed her bags.

  It had been a lie, but saying it had made what she’d had to do next possible. The same thing she had to do now.

  “I’m…” She pushed to her feet. Tyler’s hand steadied her when her knees nearly gave out, just like he’d always been her support, every time she’d needed him since they were kids. “I…I can’t do this.”

  She fled.

  “Lily.” Tyler caught up with her in the crowded reception area. He held out the purse she’d left behind. “We need to talk about this.”

  “We’ve already talked about it.” She couldn’t, wouldn’t, look at him.

  “No, we’ve argued, and we never argue about anything. This is disappointment, I know. But it’s not just about you. Try to see it from my perspective, too.”

  Her laugh shocked them both.

  “Your perspective?” She yanked her purse away. Heads around the room turned to watch the show. “Your perspective is that this disappointment is no big deal. My body’s given up on me being a mother, and so have you. Of course that makes me a neurotic mess because I want to keep fighting, but—”

  “I don’t think you’re neurotic, but you’re not even trying to—”

  “I’m trying to have a b-baby.” She choked on the word and longed to be back at school with Ashley, overstuffing chicken butts and watching her husband take care of his students and dreaming of what he’d be like with their own kids. “Your baby. And I need your support. But every conversation we’ve had lately ends up being about why you want to stop. I’m not the one with the problem.”

  The lie felt like a scream coming out, even though she was whispering.

  “I want you to stop hurting yourself,” Tyler argued, “because you think it’s your only option…our only option. The treatments aren’t working. They’re making you sick. There could be long-term side effects that I’m not willing to risk, and our marriage is falling apart because you won’t even consider moving on to other possibilities.”

  “I…I can’t.” She covered her heart with trembling fingers. “I’m sorry I’m not as strong as you, Tyler. I’ve wanted to have a baby my whole life. I’m willing to make whatever sacrifices are necessary for that to happen, but you’re done. Explain to me how I’m supposed to move on from that.”

  He blinked, and for a second she thought she’d made a dent in the boundless confidence that had helped him handle every challenge in his life since he’d been a scared little boy like Dakota. Then her husband pasted on his best can-do expression and was once more the survivor who never let anything get to him. He led her into the hallway, ignoring her resistance.

  “I’d give anything to have a baby of our own to raise and love and spoil.” He rested his forehead against hers. Another time, a lifetime ago, he’d have pecked a kiss on her nose. Tickled her softly until she giggled, then he’d have laughed, too, until they both felt better. “This is hard for me, even if I can’t show it the way you want me to. I’ve known I wanted kids with you since that night our senior year when our parents thought we were at the church social, but we slipped over to Culligan’s pond instead and went skinny-dippin’. But there are other ways to make our family a reality.”

  She backed away. Tried to, at least, but Tyler held fast. “Let me go. I need to be by myself for a while.”

  “We’ve tried that, too.” The softness was gone from his voice. His words held an edge she’d never heard before. “We’ve done this your way. It’s time to give mine a try. I scheduled another appointment for us this afternoon, and we’re going to make it. Together.”

  THE GRAYSONS, the sign beside the doorbell read.

  As if the rumbling of nonstop activity coming from within wouldn’t have told Tyler all he needed to know. How often after becoming an adult had he marveled at the Graysons’ success fostering upward of five children at a time? A quiet, unassuming couple, they’d chosen a life of chaos—one they and the kids they helped thrived on.

  The kind of chaos that had saved Tyler after he’d lost both his parents too young.

  Welcome, added the mat beneath his and Lily’s feet. It came complete with a smiley face that kept on smiling no matter how many times it was trampled on.

  And Tyler had been welcome, from age six until he left to work his way through college and beyond. Marsha and Joshua Grayson had become his parents in every way that mattered—whenever he’d needed a reality check to break him out of the cycle of anger and hatred that could have destroyed him, and every time he’d needed a hug or advice or a pat on the back to assure him he was okay.

  “This is the appointment you’re so determined we make?” Lily fidgeted with her wedding band as he rang the bell again. “I can’t hang out with your family right—”

  “Marsha and Joshua aren’t the ones we’re meeting with.” Though they’d generously offered their kitchen as a neutral place for Tyler and Lily to find some common ground.

  “What’s going on?” Lily stepped back, clearly wanting to be somewhere else. Anywhere but sharing air with him. “I’m not up for one of your surprises, Tyler.”

  The door swung inward before he could reply. A Frisbee flew out and they ducked in unison.

  “Nice reflexes.” Joshua Grayson chuckled as he swept an arm inward. “Bring that beautiful lady on in here. Marsha’s got cookies and tea ready in the kitchen, and I’m trying to corral the kids upstairs to do their homework, so you two can have some peace and quiet.”

  Stepping out of the warm spring day into the cool, shadowy den felt like slipping backward in time. Tyler let the sensation of belonging wash over him. The assurance that this would always be his home. A place he was connected to, if not by blood then by love and respect. The Graysons’ home had changed him. Made him believe he could reach for success—for something as special as a life with Lily Jones.

  Four youngsters of varying ages were scrambling to gather book bags and toys from the war zone the Graysons’ den typically resembled. Lily smiled at the mayhem. A genuine smile he’d missed seeing, so much it hurt.

  “Hey, Tyler.” A lanky teenage boy brushed by on his way outside, grabbed his Frisbee from the hedge of boxwoods lining the walk, then loped back in. “Hey, Lily.”

  “Have you grown again, Matt?” Lily asked as he flicked the Frisbee to a buddy who’d already headed upstairs.

  “Probably.” He took the steps two at a time, the last of the kids to clear the room. Silence descended, the sound of it almost deafening.

  “It’s all the cookies Marsha keeps baking,” Joshua explained. It had always been Marsha and Joshua since Tyler first came there. Not Mr. or Mrs., or Mom or Dad. Just simple folks offering simple acceptance. “The kids eat their weight in them, then they shoot up another inch. By summer, no one will be able to wear their spring clothes. The shopping carnage will be brutal.” He wiped a hand over a horrified expression. “It’s enough to wear a man down. Gotta do something about those cookies.”

  “You eat as many as the kids.” Lily linked her arm with Joshua’s and let him steer her toward the kitchen. “Marsha’s cooking is magical, everyone knows that. Nothing to do about magic but to grab your share and enjoy”

  “Well, today you get first dibs.” Joshua’s easy-going tone didn’t jive with the concerned look he shot Tyler.

  He could tell. They all could.

  Behind Lily’s smiles, she was suffering, and she was having a harder and harder time hiding it. And that more than anything had convinced Tyler to
give this afternoon a try.

  “You two better be staying for supper, is all I have to say,” Marsha insisted once they’d reached her domain, the spacious kitchen that was the center of the Grayson home. She stood at the table, elbow deep in a pile of laundry. One piece at a time, she briskly separated and folded the mess into stacks, one for each bedroom. “There’s enough roast to feed an army, which means that, once the kids are served, there should be a few scraps left to tempt you to hang around for a bowl of apple cobbler.”

  The last sock sorted, Marsha brushed her hands and opened her arms for the hug no one in Silent Springs dared resist. Lily let herself be enveloped by Marsha’s special brand of gentle honesty. Tyler felt a spurt of jealousy when Lily relaxed into her embrace.

  “You always did smell so good, child.” Marsha studied the lines of sadness curling at the edges of Lily’s smile. “And you’re so beautiful, inside and out. You’ve made our Tyler a very happy man.”

  Lily wiped at the corners of her eyes. Joshua joined them, his hand cupping her shoulder and rubbing, completing a circle of support Tyler had seen the couple build for countless children.

  “The two of you had already taken care of Tyler’s happiness before I came into the picture,” Lily argued.

  “We were a start.” Marsha nodded and let go. She lifted an armload of clothes and headed for the floor-to-ceiling utility shelves beside the kitchen door. “But Tyler’s picture was always meant to be bigger than us. You were the next step, the one to take him to the life he was meant to have.”

  Tyler grabbed the rest of the laundry and followed, never feeling less in control of his life. Once Marsha finished sorting the Tshirts and shorts and socks and underwear into the colorful bins stacked on the shelves—to be picked up by their owners before bedtime—she reached for his pile. Her smile was full of fond memories. This had been their chore from almost his first day there, back when he’d just wanted to be left alone and Marsha had been equally determined to show him that sharing time with someone again didn’t have to hurt.

  The doorbell rang, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. Tyler relinquished the last of the clothes and hugged Marsha’s shoulder. “That’s for me.” He winked at his wife’s confused expression, then headed toward the front of the house.