Not My Daughter

by Barbara Delinsky

  "No, but that was the catalyst."

  "They're only seventeen," he protested. Susan pictured his eyes. They were blue, alternately steely and soft, always mesmerizing. "How far along is she?"

  "Twelve weeks. She only told me last week. And no, I didn't see anything. There's still practically nothing to see. I would have called you right away, only she asked me to wait. I don't know if that was out of superstition or fear."

  "Fear?"

  "That you'd suggest she terminate the pregnancy."

  Quietly, he asked, "Is she there? Can I talk with her?"

  "She's sleeping." Susan explained what had happened at school.

  He swore, echoing Susan's feelings exactly. "It's all over school, then?"

  "Not yet. But soon, I'd guess."

  He let out a breath, audible over the many miles. "How does she feel about that?"

  "Upset. She wanted to wait."

  "But she isn't considering abortion."

  "No. She's keeping it. She's been firm about that."

  "What about you? You think she should?"

  That was the question closest to Susan's heart, the dark one, the one she couldn't discuss with anyone else. "Oh, Rick," she said tiredly, "this is where I agonize. You know what I did back then. Once she was inside me, I couldn't bear the thought of not having her, so a part of me understands where she's at now." She paused.

  "And the other part?"

  "Just wants this to go away," she confessed, feeling like the worst person in the world. "Abortion, adoption--I don't care."

  "But you haven't said that to Lily."

  "No, and I won't. This is the ugly me speaking. How can I ask my daughter to do something I refused to do? And so what if keeping it changes our lives? We can deal. Who said there was only one way to live a good life?"

  There was a longer pause this time, then a quiet "Your dad."

  Rick always got it. "Right. So now you're the dad. What do you say?"

  "I say right's the word. She has a right to want it, you have a right to want it gone--"

  "But I don't want it gone," Susan broke in, feeling sinful, "at least, not all the time--only when I think about what a mess this will make of her life, or when I dwell on what an absolutely, incredibly stupid thing this was for her to do. I mean, are you proud of what she's done?"

  "This minute? No. In five years, I may feel differently."

  "Forget five years," Susan cried in frustration. "We're at a crossroads--here, today, now. If she's going to not keep this baby, this is the time to decide. What do I do?"

  "You just said it. How can you ask her to do something you refused to do? She keeps it."

  As simply as that, Susan felt a tad lighter. "What do I do about the part of me that resents that?"

  "You work on it. You're a good worker."

  "Like I'm a good mother?"

  "You are. A good mother does her best, even when her own dreams are shot to hell. So, Lily keeps the baby. Does she have a plan?"

  "To raise the baby? Well, she says she had a good role model in me." Her voice rose. "Honestly, Rick, I never imagined this. She knows how hard it was for me. She knows what I gave up. I wanted everything to be perfect for her. Maybe I wanted her to be perfect."

  "No child is perfect."

  "Right, so why do I feel betrayed?"

  She imagined him considering that, frowning, using a forearm to push dark hair off his face. "That won't help her," he said softly. He was right, of course. This would have to be Susan's mantra. "Think of what you needed back then."

  "I do. All the time."

  There was a brief silence as the weight of the problem sank in. He might have cursed in the buzz of static that followed, but when he spoke next, there was no mistaking his words. "Will you tell your mother?"

  Tell Ellen Tate that the daughter who had disgraced her by getting pregnant at seventeen had let her own daughter do the same? More than at any time in the last week, Susan felt defeated. "This isn't something I imagined sending in a newsy little update, though it might bring a response for once. She'll totally blame me." She pressed the phone to her ear. She had to ask it, bluntly this time. "Do you?"

  "Try blame myself," he said, sounding stricken. "I haven't exactly been a hands-on dad. Besides, I've seen you in action. You're the best mother."

  "Whose seventeen-year-old daughter is now pregnant and unmarried."

  "Like her mom was at seventeen. Maybe Lily's just as stubborn as you were. I offered to marry you, and you refused."

  "A decision for which I am grateful every time I see you on TV," Susan told the face on the screen. "You wouldn't have had this career if you'd been saddled with a wife and child."

  He made a guttural sound. "Days like today, I'd have preferred the wife and child. What I do can be downright depressing."

  "Same here," she cried. "I'm the principal of the high school, where everyone will know my teenage daughter is pregnant. How depressing is that?"

  His pause was more thoughtful this time. "Will it cause trouble for you at work?"

  Susan rubbed her forehead. "I don't know. We'll see."

  "What can I do to help?"

  "Strangle the guy who did this to her?" she suggested. "But how foolish is that? She says she seduced him. He didn't know what he was doing."

  Rick snorted. "Oh, he did."

  "You know what I mean."

  "I used to. But this is my daughter, too. Lily has always been innocent."

  "Tell me about it," Susan remarked, folding an arm across her middle.

  The face on the screen was unchanged. "So what was he thinking? Was he coming on to her for months? Did he just wear her down? Did he ask if she was on the pill? Did he offer to use something himself?"

  Touched by the spate of questions--loving him for loving her, dark side and all--she actually laughed. "Rick, I don't know. I wasn't there. And no, I didn't ask. If the horse is already out of the barn, what's the point?"

  "So here's my next line of attack. Did she pick him for a reason? Like you picked me?"

  She smiled. "I didn't pick you. You took me by storm. There was no forethought."

  "No." His voice was soft, poignant. "There never is, is there?"

  Lily's cell rang at nine that night. It wasn't the first message she'd received. Mary Kate and Jess had texted to rant about Abby, leaving Lily agitated. Half hoping Abby was calling so that she could rant herself, she tore open the phone. "Yes."

  "Lily?" came a cautious male voice.

  She knew it well. Its owner was a fixture in her life--never demanding, just there. Her heart raced. "Hi."

  "Is it true?"

  She didn't have to ask how he knew. Everyone at school must know. Part of her wanted to lie, to make it all go away, to take herself out of the glare. But it would only be worse when she started to show.

  Lying back on the pillow, she stared at the front window and said, "It's true."

  There was a pause. She imagined him looking puzzled, maybe scratching the top of his head. Finally, unsurely, he asked, "Is it mine?"

  The question hit her the wrong way, like he was suggesting she slept with just anyone. "Why would it be you?" she snapped. "You aren't the only guy around."

  "I know. But that night..."

  "Once. We were together once. Nothing happens once. Do you know what the chances are of it happening once? Do you know how long some couples have to wait before they get pregnant?"

  "You weren't with anyone else."

  No unsureness there. Calming a little, she asked, "How do you know?"

  "Because I know you. And there was blood."

  "Women bleed every month," she said, crawling over the foot of the bed and closing the blind. Easier to fudge things when no one could see. "Really, Robbie. Don't let your imagination go wild."

  "It's hard not to," he said, sounding upset. "I was way on the other side of the school when you got sick, but by the time I got out of English, kids were talking about it. They know we're good friends,
so they asked me. I didn't know what to say."

  "Just say you don't know. That's the truth, isn't it?"

  He didn't reply at first. Then he said, "How are you feeling?"

  Back on the bed again, Lily stared at the closed blind. She'd been just fine until he called. Remembering the scene at school, she felt sick again.

  But everyone would be asking her this. She had to get used to it. "I'm really good. Happy. It's incredible, creating a life." She put a hand on her belly, jiggled it a little to wake the baby up and let her know she was being talked about.

  "When are you due?"

  "Late May. The timing's perfect," she rushed on. "I'll finish exams, have my baby, do the mom thing over the summer, and be ready to start college in the fall." Mary Kate and Jess were a little behind her and would have less time to recover before classes resumed.

  "How can you do college? Who'll take care of the baby?"

  "I'll put her in PC KidsCare."

  "Her? You know the sex already?"

  Lily laughed. "No. It's too soon. I'm just guessing it's a girl." Like she was guessing that Mary Kate and Jess would have girls, too. She wanted her daughter to be best friends with theirs, a third generation of best friends. "Right now, my baby has hands and feet. And ears. Doesn't that blow your mind?"

  But he was still focusing on the future. "Isn't PC KidsCare only for PC employees?"

  "I knit samples for PC Wool trunk shows, so technically, I am one. Besides, I have an in. Mrs. Perry will make it happen." If Lily ever spoke with Pam's daughter, Abby, again, which, at that moment, was questionable.

  "I still think it's me," Robbie said.

  "That's because you're sweet."

  "Lily, I have a right to know if it's me."

  "So you can drop out of school to support the baby? You're not going to do that, Robbie. Besides, I told you. It isn't you."

  "Why do I not believe you?"

  "Maybe," she tried, "because it's macho to think you've fathered a baby." Macho wasn't a word that she would have used to describe Robbie--but it wasn't totally wrong, she realized. He had grown in the last year and had to be six-two now. Granted, he was still the lightest guy on the wrestling squad, but what he lacked in muscle, he made up for in determination. He definitely knew the moves.

  "Forget macho," he said. "It's pure math. If you're due at the end of May, you conceived at the end of August, and that's when we did it."

  "I won't tell you again," she said quietly.

  "Then whose is it?" he asked. When she said nothing, he pleaded, "Tell me something, Lily. If you think my questions are hard, just wait'll tomorrow. Whether or not I'm the father, I'm a friend. Let me help."

  Lily's eyes filled with tears. The books said she would be emotional. And Robbie was a friend. And she was dreading going to school.

  But if he helped, people would think he was the father, and she didn't want that. This was her doing alone.

  Well, not exactly alone. Mary Kate, Jess, and Abby were in on it, too. But no one knew yet about Mary Kate and Jess, and Abby was sore because she was way behind.

  What to tell Robbie? She needed time to think.

  "If I told anyone," she finally said, "I'd tell you. Next to Mary Kate and Jess, you're my oldest friend." Since they were six. It was poetic.

  No, she had no regrets about Robbie. Abby, yes. But not Robbie. He was loyal. If she did need help, he would be there.

  That thought brought little comfort as she dressed for school the next morning. Mary Kate and Jess would help out if questions got bad, but she felt best when she thought of her mom. Susan had done it, and look at her. She was educated. She was successful. And she had Lily to show for it.

  Standing at the mirror, dressed in slim-as-ever jeans, Lily touched the place where she guessed her baby to be and whispered, "You're mine, sweet thing. I'll take care of you. Let people talk. We don't care. We have something special, you and me. And we have my mom and my dad. They're gonna love you to bits. Trust me on that."

  At school there were few questions, just stares.

  Her mother wasn't so lucky.

  Chapter 6

  Susan was on the phone with a headhunter, whom she hoped would locate a replacement for the retiring director of athletics, when Pam showed up at the door and, none too softly, said, "What did I just hear?"

  Finger to her lips, Susan waved her in. "Yes, Tom. Male or female. Our current AD coaches football, but that isn't a prerequisite. My priorities are administrative experience and the ability to work well with kids."

  "Susan," Pam whispered urgently as she closed the door, "what did I hear?"

  Susan gestured her to a chair and held up a hand for the minute it took to finish the call.

  Pam didn't wait a second longer. The phone was barely in its cradle when she said, "Word's going around that Lily's pregnant. I've had three calls this morning--three moms asking me the same thing--and I couldn't answer, even though I'm your friend, which was one of the reasons they were calling me. I couldn't even call Abby, because you don't allow kids to use phones during school. Is it true?"

  Pam was a Perry by marriage and, as such, a member of the town's royalty, but she didn't often pull rank. Susan wasn't sure what she heard in Pam's voice--whether it was arrogance, indignation, or hurt--but she felt a quick anger. There would have been no calls, no questions had it not been for Pam's own daughter.

  But Lily would still be pregnant. Resigned, Susan nodded.

  "How?" Pam asked in dismay. It was a silly question. Susan's expression must have said as much, because her friend hurried on. "Who?"

  Susan shrugged and shook her head.

  Pam was sitting on the edge of the seat, her cardigan open, a paisley scarf knotted artfully about her neck. "You have to know. You're just not saying."

  "Pam, I don't know."

  "That's impossible. You and Lily are as close as any mother and daughter I know. She must have told you she was sleeping with someone." When Susan shook her head again, Pam said, "How could you not?"

  Susan was duly chastised. She had prided herself on being one better than the parent who didn't notice her Vicodin running low long before it should. It was a humbling experience.

  "There comes a point," she said in her own defense, "when our children choose not to share some things."

  "Some things. This is major. When did you find out?"

  Unable to lie, Susan said, "Last week." It felt like years ago. She kept flashing back to Lily's conception. Even this morning, reliving her own nightmare of going to school on the day after the whole world suddenly knew, she half expected Lily to show up at her door in tears, looking for a shoulder to cry on.

  But either Mary Kate and Jess were walking the halls beside her or Lily was tougher than Susan had been. And perhaps that was for the best. Lily had become pregnant by design--and in agreement with friends. She had way more to answer for than Susan had.

  Pam Perry didn't know the half of it. Innocently, she exclaimed, "Last week? Omigod, Susan. This is awful. What was she thinking?" When Susan simply gave her a look, she said, "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm trying to figure that out."

  "She's keeping the baby? Of course she is. Lily loves kids, and there's no way you'd make her abort it. So the guy has to come forward," Pam decided. "You have to find out who he is." When Susan said nothing, she added, "Well, some guy made this happen."

  "Obviously," Susan replied, "but does his name matter?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Wrong. It's a woman's body, a woman's baby."

  "You say that because you're a single mom."

  "I say it because I'm a realist," Susan insisted. "Even moms in traditional families do the brunt of the child care. The buck stops here."

  "Some of us see it differently," Pam argued. "The father has to share the responsibility."

  "Maybe in an ideal world," Susan conceded. "You're lucky, Pam. Not only is your husband a gem, but he's from a storied family. Perrys don't divorce, an
d they don't go broke. But Tanner doesn't change diapers or fold laundry or make school lunches, and that drives you nuts. Remember the time you and Tanner both had the flu? Who was crawling out of bed to take care of Abby?"

  There was more to the story, of course. Pam did all of those things without complaint, though she could certainly afford a maid. But with one child and no other full-time job, these chores helped define her.

  "So, basically, you're having another child yourself," Pam said. "Isn't that the bottom line?"

  Susan considered it, pressed her lips together, nodded.

  "You can't do that," Pam argued. "You know the work. You have a whole other job now that is very demanding."

  "What would you have me do?" Susan asked. Frustrated, she rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. "She wants the baby, Pam. She's heard the heartbeat. She knows the options. She wants the baby."

  "And you'll just let her have it?"

  "What can I do? Put yourself in my shoes. This has happened--past tense. It's done. Maybe you can do better and talk with your daughter about not getting pregnant." There it was, the closest Susan could come to disclosing what she knew.

  Pam frowned at the papers on the desk, then at Susan. "This is what you three were talking about at the barn last week. You told them. Why couldn't you tell me?"

  Susan felt another stab of anger. At Lily for getting pregnant? At Abby for outing her? At Pam for playing the victim? "They already knew," she explained. "Mary Kate had told Kate, and Jess had told Sunny, but clearly Abby hadn't said anything to you, or you would have mentioned it. Has she yet?"

  Pam raised her chin. "No, but she considers Lily one of her closest friends. She probably feels it wouldn't be loyal."

  "Loyal? Abby was the one who shouted it all over school!" Pam looked startled, but Susan couldn't stop. If Pam wanted to be a friend, she had to hear this. "Abby blurted it out yesterday in the hall filled with kids, so maybe you should be talking with her, not with me. But those moms who called you this morning didn't tell you that, did they?"

  "No," Pam said, subdued. "They heard rumors. They know we're friends, and since I'm on the school board, they thought they were killing two birds with one stone."