A Baby Maybe

by Genna Donaghy

  Wyatt flinched, despite himself. This wasn't one of the prepared questions, and it was so close to Grayson's accusation of him enjoying being the First Mother that it hurt. He decided to aim for the truth. "Honestly, nothing has changed. The Ranch is good with security, and it's not like I'm on social media. I haven't... uh, found the time to watch much TV."

  "Too busy preparing for the baby, eh?" the interviewer said with a laugh.

  "Oh yes." Wyatt nodded. "My days are filled with either medical tests, or guided exercise." He took a breath and added expansively, "It's like she's taken over my life, even before she's born."

  A hushed stillness fell over the room. Crystalline in shock. Wyatt heard a quiet gasp from somewhere in the background.

  "Wyatt..." The voice came from Grayson, sounding broken. He was quickly shushed by the rest of the production staff. Wyatt didn't look his way.

  "Is—is that right? Did I hear that?" The interviewer turned to look over at his production director, who made a rolling gesture with his hand to keep going. The interviewer turned back to Wyatt, visibly excited. "You know the gender? And it's a girl? A viable female?"

  Inwardly, Wyatt smiled. They are way off script now. He wondered how much of this would make the cut in editing.

  It didn't matter. The production crew knew, and news of this caliber would leak like a sieve to the public.

  "That's right." He put his hand over his stomach. "I found out only a couple of days ago. As you can imagine, it was quite the shock. A little scary, too."

  "I'm sure it was," the interviewer said. "Do you know if... I'm sorry I'm not quite sure how to phrase this delicately, but have you been given an estimate of her chances when she is born?"

  Wyatt looked down. "No one knows. But at this moment she is healthy, and so am I. Of course, I want her to survive with all my heart, but more than that," he looked past the interviewer, directly into the camera. "We need her to survive. The human race—we need women. I loved my sister. I love my mother. They brought something that we... we don't have in the world anymore. We, as a people, need our women. Society is falling apart, and I can't help but think that if the women were still here.... They would temper some of that."

  "You clearly didn't know my wife," the interviewer laughed, a very sad laugh of remembrance. "She was a spitfire."

  That was the most genuine thing Wyatt had heard the man say. Wyatt smiled. "Well, I think we need a little bit of that to."

  "Thank you for sharing your news with us, Wyatt. I know the whole world will be watching, and hoping, with you."

  The interview ended. Again, the interviewer reached across and shook Wyatt's hand. "Thank you, he said, genuinely. His eyes were warm.

  Wyatt nodded, his throat thickening. Then he got up and walked across the room.

  Grayson was there and Wyatt fully expected to see anger on his face for spilling the beans.

  But Grayson's eyes were full of emotion as he stepped up to Wyatt.

  Wyatt lifted his chin and waited. Whatever Grayson would dish out, he could take. But to his shock, Grayson folded Wyatt in his arms.

  "I'm sorry," Grayson said. "What you did right now was very brave. I let my fear speak for me the other day. Can you forgive me?"

  Wyatt clung to him. "I'm terrified," he whispered in Grayson's hair.

  "I know."

  "I might die," Wyatt said bluntly. He wasn't going to shy away from this. "But right now I'm going to give us as much of a chance I can."

  "I'll be there every step of the way," Grayson waited a beat. "If you'll allow me."

  Wyatt's smile was tremulous. "Well, the girl is going need her daddy."

  For the first time in days, Wyatt joined the other mothers and remaining candidates in the common room for the nightly TV binge. Since knowledge of the other stations were released to the public, watching how everyone others in the program lived had become quite the spectacle.

  According to Tyler, they had lucked out on the location of the Ranch. One of the stations was located in the wastes of what had been Nome, Alaska. It still had snow on the ground, and supplies were often delayed due to weather. Though one, apparently, was in Key West, which everyone agreed they would have preferred.

  Grayson came in just as the interviews started playing. He was in his plain clothes, no lab coat in sight, and only earned a few quick, uninterested looks. He had become a common sight, and his relationship with Wyatt was an open secret.

  Wyatt made room for him on the couch, and they sat together, fingers intertwined. They'd told no one yet about the gender of the baby—it was, apparently, a closely guarded secret among the medical staff. Squeezing Grayson's hand, he wondered how much of the interview would be aired on TV.

  As if he read his mind, Grayson leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Don't worry."

  "I'm a mother, now," Wyatt said with a soft smile. "All I do is worry."

  To Wyatt surprise, his face and a few coyly edited answers were listed in the teaser section. They played his full interview second to last, and it was hardly edited at all.

  "A girl?" Tyler asked, turning to stare at Wyatt.

  Wyatt nodded, swallowing back his nerves. He felt the attention of the room on him like a weight.

  Then Tyler whooped and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You dog, you didn't tell us!"

  "Sorry—I didn't—"

  "Does this mean some of us may have girls, too?" Qiang asked in his soft way. His pregnancy was only a couple weeks behind Wyatt's, and hope glittered in his eyes.

  "Not all of us," another mother said. "I know for a fact they were genetically selecting against females in the later trials..." He glanced at Grayson and added, "I heard my doctor saying something about it. But if Wyatt's survives..."

  The room fell silent and a little uncomfortable. Only a few select people knew of the dangers of carrying a female fetus—and surely they'd be given the same choice as Wyatt if they were carrying one of their own—but no one needed it spelled out how dangerous the Flu would be to a girl.

  Wyatt forced a smile. He was going to be brave about this and not show the terror that was crawling up inside him. Every day, the fear diminished less for him and grew for his daughter. It was easier to bear, with Grayson next to him. "Well, that's the hope."

  Chapter Twenty

  The months passed in dollops of time, at once galloping forward, interspaced with large chunks that seemed amazingly slow, marked by the growth of Wyatt's ever-expanding belly. It seemed the only constant in Wyatt's life was Grayson's support, Tyler's friendship, and the crowd of campers that massed outside the gates of the ranch.

  He wondered what they did for food and water. None of the government officials from the city-states were supporting them with supplies, but as long as they remained non-violent, they weren't removed. It seemed like most wanted to be as close as possible to the mothers and the babies that would be arriving. Maybe they thought pregnancy was catching.

  Meanwhile, Wyatt was as big as a blimp, and equally grumpy. And sore. Even the women of the past were uncomfortable during the last stages of pregnancy, but their bodies were more or less prepared for it through millions of years of evolution. Wyatt's was not. Lately, it felt that whatever position he laid down in, he could never be comfortable. He didn't so much walk as waddle.

  Today, his daughter was being a little pill and sitting right on his bladder. He had gone to the bathroom at least three times this morning, and the sound of splashing water in his water aerobics class wasn't helping.

  "I have to pee again," he complained to Tyler after the instructor finished the class. Together, he and Tyler drifted to the edge of the pool.

  Tyler was getting big, too. But with his height, he looked naturally sleek and athletic. Even his growing belly didn't look out of proportion.

  "Well, don't go in the pool," Tyler laughed.

  Wyatt shot him a disgusted look. "I won't, but that means I have to get out of the water, and when I get out of the water, I'm so heavy and un
gainly... and it sucks," he finished with a sigh. "It feels like my body's being taken over by someone else." He glared down in mock ferociousness at his belly.

  "Oh, boo-hoo. Poor Wyatt has a healthy growing baby."

  Wyatt playfully splashed water at Tyler, and was told off by a passing counselor. Honestly, sometimes they acted more like kindergarten teachers than government officials.

  Eventually, Wyatt did have to get out of the pool—he needed the help of a still chuckling Tyler.

  A cramp, sudden and sharp, rippled across his stomach. At first, Wyatt thought he had pulled something. He bent to rest against one of the safety rails which led to the steps.

  Tyler's mocking grin faded. "Are you okay?"

  Wyatt took a breath, started to nod, then stopped and frowned. "I think... I don't know. What did they say labor was supposed to feel like, again?"

  Tyler's brown eyes widened. "Well, they did say it was a little different for everybody, and who the hell knows how it's going to be for us. Why? Do you think...?" The expression on Wyatt's face must have said everything because Tyler sucked in a quick breath. "Let's get you to medical."

  "Bathroom first," Wyatt panted. Labor or no, he still needed to pee.

  "You are such a pain," Tyler said. Slinging one of Wyatt's arms around his shoulder, he helped him to the restroom pit stop.

  Of course, all the mothers were watched like hawks. Or maybe Tyler had flagged down a counselor. In any case, there was literally a team of medics waiting when Wyatt waddled out a few minutes later, and Grayson was in tow.

  "How are you feeling?" Grayson asked as he came over to Wyatt's side.

  At that moment, a new cramp took him unexpectedly. Hunching over, Wyatt struggled to catch his breath. "Gray... I think... I think it might be time." He was scared, but relieved too. While not the most athletic guy, the last few weeks had been incredibly restricting. He couldn't even get laid properly. Hard to get a stiffy, when his blood pressure was out of whack.

  Besides, he was more than ready to meet his little girl.

  Grayson's hand was warm on his own. "We're going to take good care of you. You're eight and a half months along. That's close enough so she... she's not terribly premature."

  "I know." He'd been counting the days, just like everyone else.

  Tyler, hovering, stepped aside as one of the staff brought over a wheelchair. He and Grayson helped Wyatt sit, and they wheeled him to the medical wing, posthaste.

  Wyatt wasn't surprised when initial tests came back positive. He was in the male equivalent of labor. Of course, not having a birth canal or being able to let the water break made things a little different. His daughter would be born via C-section.

  Wyatt rested his hands again over his swollen belly. "I guess it's sink or swim time, little pill," he said and ignored the tears welling up in his eyes.

  Despite his brave words on TV interviews, to Grayson, Tyler and all the rest, he hadn't been able to bring himself to name the baby inside him. Just... What if she got sick?

  His body had been his daughter's personal bed and breakfast, had kept her safe while she grew from a collection of cells to a person in miniature. He'd done everything he could to protect her, but he couldn't shield her from the toxic atmosphere of a world that had killed her entire gender.

  His daughter would arrive into the world today, and he wasn't ready to let her go if things turned out badly.

  Tears spilled down Wyatt's cheeks before he could stop himself.

  Grayson, never too far away, set down the electronic medical chart and wrapped him in a hug. "It will be okay."

  The sound Wyatt made was half-laugh, half-sob. "How do you know? You and the other doctors still haven't found any hint of natural immunity in her blood."

  And they had looked. Test after test had found nothing. Wyatt had bruises on every vein on his arms to prove it.

  Grayson was quiet for a moment, his hand rubbing soothing circles between Wyatt's shoulders. "We haven't," he said, his voice quiet and sure. "But we aren't exactly sure what natural immunity to the virus would look like, either. She has made it this far, so that has to mean something."

  Wyatt let out a breathless laugh. It was as if they had traded places from their argument a few months back, when they'd learned they were going to have a daughter. "I think that was my line."

  Grayson looked into his eyes. "Then believe it. Our daughter will be born. She will grow up safe, strong, and healthy."

  Then Grayson leaned down and kissed Wyatt tenderly on the forehead. Their fingers twined over Wyatt's belly, and for a moment it was just the three of them, and Wyatt forgot his fear.

  "And no matter what happens, I will be here for both of you," Grayson said.

  Wyatt could hear footsteps down the hall coming closer. It might be another doctor, or a nurse to take him away to the operating theater for the C-section. In any case, their time was short.

  "Make sure our daughter gets born safely," he said, catching and holding Grayson's gaze. "No matter what."

  "I promise," Grayson said.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Wyatt woke up, sore, with a noticeable lack of lump to his belly. Confused, he cast around the room, searching for a familiar face. For answers.

  The room was empty. No Grayson. No baby.

  A machine over his head beeped frantically as his heart rate skyrocketed. Still groggy, he struggled to sit up, pulling away sensors and a tube of oxygen fixed underneath his nose. Why was he alone?

  The door opened, and Grayson strode in. He still wore a surgical hat on his head and his medical blues.

  "Wyatt—"

  "Where is she?" Grayson demanded, his voice slurred from the sedative.

  Grayson sat down came to his bedside. His voice was that forced calm again—a doctor to a patient, not as a lover. "She's in another room. The nurse should have been here with you when you woke. I'm sorry."

  "I don't care," Wyatt said impatiently. "I want to see her. How is she?"

  "Wyatt—" Grayson's face twitched into an unhappy micro-expression. Too subtle for most to catch, but Wyatt had spent months studying him.

  The machine frantically beeped again as his heart caught in his chest. "Grayson? How is she?"

  Grayson covered Wyatt's hand with his own. "First indications show she has an elevated white blood cell count. She looks like she is fighting off an infection."

  "Is it the Flu?"

  "We don't know. Her breath sounds are good, but we're fast-tracking testing right now."

  "I want to hold her."

  "Wyatt, right now the circumstances of her birth are unusual. We have no baseline to compare her against. No other baby has been born quite this way. Through C-section, yes, but as she was grown in an artificial uterus—"

  "I want to hold her, Grayson."

  In case I don't get to hold her again hung between them, unsaid.

  Grayson paused for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. It might be a couple of minutes. Sit tight right here—don't leave the bed."

  He exited the room, leaving Wyatt to sit back and fret. But Grayson, bless him, was as good as his word and soon walked back through the door with a bundle clutched to his chest.

  A small, wanting sound escaped his lips as Wyatt reached out to her, and Grayson slid their baby into his arms.

  She was a pink, wrinkled thing, her eyes screwed shut, and her lips pursed in a pout of displeasure that reminded him of his sister. The moment that he saw her, Wyatt fell head over heels in love.

  "She's beautiful," Wyatt gasped. He looked up at Grayson. "Isn't she the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"

  Grayson nodded. He looked like he couldn't speak around the lump in his throat.

  Wyatt carefully touched his finger to the tip of her nose and watched her shift a little. She opened her eyes, which were a perfect shade of baby blue.

  "Hello there," Wyatt said. I'm your mother. It's nice to finally meet you."

  "She needs a name," Grayson said. His voice wa
s slightly rough. "The medics on her team have been calling her 'Baby A', but that isn't cutting it."

  "I know what you mean." He had wished that he thought more about this before, but when push came to shove there was only one name that would work. "Eve. Her name is Eve, for the first woman."

  "How prophetic," Grayson said dryly. Then he reached over to squeeze his daughter's tiny foot through the blanket. "But it's a strong name. I think it suits her well."

  They had to take little Eve away for more tests and monitoring after a few minutes.

  Wyatt was shocked how empty he felt without her weight in his arms. Still recovering from surgery, he was forced to sit bed-bound while Grayson alternated between staying with him and checking on the results of the tests they were running on his daughter.

  His recovery room didn't have a vid screen, TV, or radio, but Wyatt was glad for his little oasis of calm. He could only imagine the media storm sweeping the outside world: The first human being born in fifteen years.

  The first of many, hopefully.

  Grayson soon returned with news that Eve had started feeding on the bottle. Wyatt was a little put out he hadn't been the one to give her the first meal. His own breasts were flat: he hadn't grown mammary glands along with his artificial uterus. But she was eating the premade formula well, and the doctors were encouraged.

  "She definitely has a high white blood cell count, though," Grayson said, dragging a hand down his face. He'd forgotten to shave that morning, and the stubble was showing through. "She's fighting off an infection of some sort. We're still running tests, but—"

  "Those take time. I know." He'd heard it several times in the last hour, and had to swallow past the lump in his throat.

  Grayson's smile was soft. "And the genetic sequencing test takes even more time. We're starting her on antivirals just in case."

  "I thought those didn't work against the XX Flu."

  "Not in the past, but..." Trailing off, Grayson sighed. "We're going to give her every advantage we can. As soon as that's done we're bringing her back in so she can sleep in here. She should be with her mother."