Mommy By Mistake

by Rowan Coleman

  The smile that had started on Natalie’s lips faded.

  “That’s true,” she said. For a moment neither of them could look at the other.

  “I don’t know what you think about me, Natalie,” Jack went on. “But one of the things I have been for most of my adult life is a coward. I run away from things that scare me. Like the final exams in my biochemistry degree. I studied for three years, aced paper after paper, but the thought of the exams did my head in, so I didn’t take them. I never passed my degree. And women: it’s not that I was afraid of commitment, it was more that I was afraid of making a commitment to a woman and then realizing a few months or years down the line that she was the wrong one. I thought it was better to be careful. So I didn’t really get very involved with anybody until…well, I suppose I can’t really say I got involved with you.”

  Jack sighed and shook his head as if attempting to dislodge a particularly unhelpful thought. “Then there was the cancer. I ran away from that for a long time, too. Didn’t get it checked out for months, waited and waited for the bloody thing to go away on its own, and once I had the diagnosis, I ran away again—with you that time. And then from you; from you and how the cancer might make you see me. So you see, I am a terrible coward. I’m weak, I’m not the kind of man who could be a good father. Or at least I haven’t been.” He moistened his lips. “I’ve thought about nothing except you and the baby since the night you told me about him, and I realized—I’ve got my life back now and I don’t want to live it like a coward, Natalie. I want to be brave, I want to face life and live it—the good and the bad.” Jack suddenly looked very young. “It’s just that being brave is a bit scary.”

  Natalie watched him, this man she had thought of as so strong and even dashing, so dangerous to know and a real heartbreaker, and found with some amazement that it wasn’t that constructed version of him that she was drawn to after all. It couldn’t be, because all the feelings she had had for that distant and shadowy man of mystery were still present for this utterly vulnerable stranger. The more he told her, the more she admired him, the more at last she really understood him. He was an ordinary man who’d been badly beaten and buffeted by life, and was still in recovery. He wasn’t what she had thought he was at all, and yet Jack was exactly the man for her, because in the end it had been none of those artifices that she had fallen for in Venice. It had been the core of him, the heart, and that was still there.

  Jack looked at Freddie, who catching his eye bounced up and down on Natalie’s knee excitedly. Jack was the one adult who hadn’t instantly poured smiles and attention all over him, and he was trying his best to rectify the situation by being especially charming.

  “It seems to me,” Jack went on, “that that little fellow is here in the world now and he is part of me, and if you’ll let me, I do want to be part of his life. I don’t want to run away from my son. I might not be very good at it but I’m going to try my best to be his father, the best one I can be.”

  As he spoke, his words caught in his throat and he dipped his head for a moment, until the threat of tears had subsided.

  “Sorry,” he said with a shrug. “You see, once I got past the whole running-for-the-hills impulse, I realized that it is sort of like a miracle. I didn’t know if I’d be able to father children after treatment. I was trying to get used to the idea of never being a father and then suddenly—” He gestured at Freddie.

  Natalie smiled at him, wishing more than anything that she could just go and put her arms around him.

  “Can I…could I have a go at holding him?” Jack asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Can I hold Freddie?”

  For a second Natalie felt her arms tighten reflexively around Freddie’s tummy and then she relaxed her fingers.

  “Of course you can,” she told him gently.

  Jack looked nervous.

  “I need to support its, I mean his head, right?” he said, looking at Freddie like he was a bundle of particularly unstable dynamite.

  “Well, no, he can do that on his own now,” Natalie said, looking down at her son who was leaning forward in her lap, his arms outstretched to Jack. “But it’s usually best not to dangle him by his legs or anything like that.”

  Jack’s mouth twitched with the promise of a smile. “I remember I liked your sense of humor.” He paused. “You were joking, weren’t you?”

  Natalie laughed despite herself.

  “Yes, I was, Jack,” she said. She was confused. She had never felt so happy and yet so sad at the same time before. It was a difficult mix of emotions to control and she felt that she might burst in the attempt.

  “You know what,” she said. “I think you are actually quite a nice man.”

  “Am I?” Jack said. “Really? Is that good?”

  “It’s good for Freddie,” Natalie said. She and Jack stood up together and then, finally, she transferred her son into his father’s arms.

  Once there Freddie’s features became still as he looked up at Jack with a solemn but curious expression.

  Jack looked down at Freddie in exactly the same way.

  “He actually does look like me,” Jack said in amazement. “Isn’t that weird? I mean, friends and family with babies are always going on about how they resemble somebody or other and I’ve looked at them, these babies, and I’ve thought—nope, they all look the same to me. Fat, pink, and squashy. But I look at him and I can see myself in him, and you, too. It’s the weirdest feeling. It’s…God, it’s amazing, Natalie.”

  As Jack smiled down at the baby at last, Freddie’s face erupted into a returning grin, and an expression of pure delight.

  “He smiles!” Jack exclaimed happily. “Look, he smiles and he’s just a baby—does that make him advanced? What else does he do? Does he crawl yet, or talk?”

  Natalie couldn’t help but be warmed by his interest in her, in their son.

  “He cries, a lot, mainly at night,” she told him. “He poos a lot and he likes to try to wee in your face. He’s due to start solids soon, he’s desperate to crawl but hasn’t quite got it yet, he can only go backwards if he wriggles about on his tummy. He smiles at people he likes and he’s the loveliest, most amazing baby in the whole wide world.”

  Jack nodded. “Just as I thought. A child genius.” He took one or two experimental steps with him, and discovering that he did not drop the baby, paced the room a couple of times. Natalie sat down and watched them.

  “Do you think it will be okay,” he asked her, “you and me and him? Will it work after everything that’s happened?”

  Natalie looked at Jack holding their baby and she wished more than anything in the world that she could put her arms around them both and kiss them.

  “We will find a way,” she said, determinedly. It had begun to feel as if things had changed between them again, as if now they had passed into a new phase where Freddie was the most important thing between them. And perhaps that was simply the way it had to be. Her old friend fate had put two huge great obstacles right in the middle of the part where they should have been just starting out, dating, having candlelit dinners, taking long walks in the park, spending all afternoon in bed, talking and laughing and doing all those soppy things that somehow Natalie had never managed to do. At least, not with the same person.

  That part had been robbed from them both by circumstance. And now it had to be more important than ever that Jack should move on with his life, as far as possible away from the shadow of his illness. Away from that time when their lives might have been different.

  “We’ll be fine,” Natalie answered Jack’s question, feeling her heart compress. “I’m sure of it.”

  A little while later Jack walked them back to the edge of Oxford Street, where they parted. He was catching the Tube down to his offices to meet his new colleagues, and Natalie planned to risk the wrath of Alice and take Freddie into work.

  “Thank you,” Jack said.

  He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek, sending a jolt of l
onging surging right through Natalie that nearly knocked her off her feet. It was hard to believe that something so physical, so tangible, could only be felt by her and not Jack. But she had to believe it, because there was not a flicker of anything in his face that might betray that he was feeling the same way.

  Natalie wondered how long it would take for these feelings to gradually fade away. She hoped she would be over it by the time Freddie took his college entrance exams, with a little bit of luck.

  “I’ll see you in a few days then?” she said. She and Jack had already planned his first proper visit with Freddie on Saturday. She was to teach him all the things he needed to know to be able to look after Freddie.

  “You will,” Jack replied. “Saturday then.”

  It had taken Natalie a lot of effort not to look back as she walked away from Jack and into the throng of people that the hint of spring sunshine had brought out. But walk on she had, until she was sure he wouldn’t be able to see her anymore. And then she stopped and turned around and caught a glimpse of what might have been his head vanishing around a corner.

  “Well, the main thing,” she told Freddie staunchly, “is that the waiting is finally over.”

  Twenty-eight

  Natalie had started so early that morning on her expedition to find Jack that it seemed to her as if it should be about midnight by now. But it was barely two in the afternoon by the time she got home.

  Her visit to the office had been heartening. Everybody was pleased to see her and thrilled to meet Freddie. She had arrived just in time to see a walk-through of the collection they were presenting to buyers in a few days’ time, and it had made Natalie so proud that she cried.

  “It’s the hormones,” she said, flapping her hands in front of her eyes before she erupted into full-blown wailing. “I’m fine, really,” she sobbed. “Pay no attention to me, you’ve all just done such a wonderful job—and without me. I’m gutted!”

  Alice hugged her tightly.

  “Let’s leave Freddie in the capable hands of ten or so clucky women and go and talk about why you’re looking so sad,” she said.

  “You should feel proud,” Alice said, as Natalie finished telling her what had happened between her and Jack.

  “Proud?” Natalie asked. “But why?”

  “Because you made up your mind, on your own, without any nagging from me to go and see him again. And it must have been so hard for you to put your feelings on the line for your sake and Freddie’s. The sort of grown-up, mature thing you’d normally run a mile from if it meant you got to avoid a bit of awkwardness. And it’s paid off—not exactly the way you wanted it to work, I know. But you’ve got Jack in Freddie’s life now. Did you ever think a few weeks ago that would be possible? It wouldn’t have been, if you hadn’t done the right thing.”

  “The thing is”—Natalie said carefully—“the thing is that I didn’t truly realize until today that I have been waiting for him, for Jack. For all these months I’ve had this half-assed but heartfelt belief that he would come back for me and Freddie, and that we were meant to be together. But when he did come back, it was by accident and not for me at all. And now there’s this big hole inside me where the waiting and the hoping used to be and I don’t know how to fill it—perhaps with misery and despair. What do you think?” She smiled weakly at her friend.

  Alice looked thoughtful. “Do you still, even after everything that’s happened, have real feelings for this man? Do you love him?”

  “I think I do,” Natalie said, her voice almost a whisper. “Look, I don’t know, I can’t say for sure because I feel like I’ve only really started to get to know him now, long after the affair is over. But I know it’s something serious and something strong because it lasted through a lot of knockbacks. Whenever I look at him, whenever he touches me, when I think about all he’s been through, or when I see him smiling at Freddie, my heart beats faster and I can feel the blood in my veins, and every part of me wants to be with every part of him, whatever happens.” Natalie’s shoulders dropped as a feeling of exhaustion washed over her. “I expect that makes me insane.”

  Alice laid a comforting palm on her hand. “Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones again,” she suggested gently.

  “No,” Natalie said with complete certainty. “This time it isn’t the hormones.”

  “Then, if it’s the real thing, if you really think that you love him, you have to tell him, for your, Freddie’s, and his sake,” Alice said.

  “How can I?” Natalie asked her. She held up her hand when Alice opened her mouth. “No, Alice, this is not the time for one of your lectures, useful as they often are. His relationship with Freddie is very fragile. It can’t take any external pressure, and me throwing myself at him is just that. I can’t do anything about it, not now.”

  “But what if you miss your chance again?” Alice asked.

  “I’ll learn to live with it,” Natalie replied.

  “You’ve changed these last few weeks,” Alice told her.

  “Maybe I have changed,” Natalie said. “Maybe Freddie has changed me for the better.”

  “Just as long as you remember that the old you wasn’t all bad.” Alice put an arm around her shoulder. “Hey, you know what this means. Now that you’re going to have a regular babysitter, you and I can go out on the town.”

  “Mmmm,” Natalie said without enthusiasm. “Nice idea, but I don’t think I’ll be ready to do that for quite some time yet.”

  “Who was talking about you?” Alice said.

  When Natalie got home, not only was Sandy awake and sober, but she had cleaned the house as well.

  Natalie found her in the kitchen, washed and dressed and cooking. She looked up and smiled at Natalie as she entered the room.

  “Hello, dear,” she said.

  “What have you done with my real mother?” Natalie asked warily.

  Sandy put her wooden spoon down on the counter and took a breath.

  “I’m so sorry about yesterday, Natalie,” she said. “I can’t believe what happened. I’m so embarrassed and ashamed of myself and I just want to say that I’m sorry.”

  Natalie did not move.

  “Seriously, where is she? Have you abducted her into outer space for extensive tests on her liver?” she said, straight-faced.

  “Please, Natalie, I’m trying to be serious.”

  Natalie sat down at the breakfast bar and looked at her mom.

  “Good,” she said. “I’m glad you’re being serious. Because this is serious, Mother.” She steeled herself to say what she knew she must. It was a relatively new talent, being able to face up to reality, and she thought she was getting quite good at it. “Mom, you’re an alcoholic.”

  “No, I’m not, dear,” her mom said, shaking her head.

  Denial. Natalie had read on the Internet that denial was very common in alcoholics.

  “That proves it,” she said. “You don’t think you’re an alcoholic when you drink at every single opportunity, to the point where you can’t move or speak. Mom?” Natalie exclaimed with frustration. “Come on, take a look at your life, take a look at what’s happening to you!”

  “You don’t understand, I don’t drink like that…” Sandy began.

  “Um, excuse me,” Natalie cut in emphatically, “I know what I see with my own eyes. Like you passed out with your head practically in the toilet.”

  “I don’t drink like that normally,” Sandy continued. “I mean, back in Spain I have a glass or two in the evening, like I always have. I like a drink now and then. But I don’t normally drink so much that I’m ill. It was just when I got here that I started.” Sandy finished speaking with a little shrug and a shake of her head as if she didn’t really understand it herself, let alone expect anyone else to.

  “Pardon?” Natalie asked, unable to comprehend what her mother was telling her. “Are you saying that once you arrived in the home of your daughter, supposedly to help with the care of your grandson, you thought you’d just drink yoursel
f to death instead?” She shook her head. “Obviously, what was I thinking? It all makes perfect sense to me now.”

  Sandy took the lid off of the pan she was standing over and a waft of coq au vin lifted into the room.

  “Did you find my wine?” Natalie asked her, frowning deeply. “Because breaking and entering is a serious offense and the sort of thing an alcoholic does.”

  “No, don’t worry,” Sandy said with a sigh. “I didn’t break into the coal shed and steal your best Bordeaux. I bought some cheap stuff at the corner shop.” She held up the still half-full bottle and shook it. “See, I haven’t drunk any. I am not an alcoholic.”

  “That proves nothing,” Natalie said, slightly peeved that her plan to prevent Sandy from drinking had such a large and clearly visible hole in it as the corner shop.

  Sandy stirred the stew and returned its lid before turning down the heat and sitting next to Natalie.

  “I don’t like living in Spain,” she told her.

  Natalie huffed out a sigh and rolled her eyes at this irrelevance, like a teenager who was desperate to be anywhere else but there.

  “I mean, I like the warmth and the people, and my neighbors are good fun. There’s this chap over the way, Keith Macbride, a Scottish fellow. Widower. Sometimes we have a drink together and do the Latin American dance class on a Thursday evening. He’s the one that’s been watering my plants,” she added tentatively.

  “You said it was a woman!” Natalie exclaimed.

  “No, I said it was a neighbor, and anyway I didn’t want you to think that I’d lined you up with another uncle. I know how much you hate uncles. Keith is…he’s a comfort and I care about him.”

  “So why haven’t you pounced and drained him of his life force?” Natalie asked her mildly.