Not My Daughter

by Barbara Delinsky

  "Absolutely not!"

  "But you're letting her do it anyway?"

  Sunny put down the sponge. "Letting her? She didn't ask my permission. And now it's done. This isn't a dress you can buy and return." Hearing the bite in her voice, she said by way of apology, "This is very upsetting for me. I don't know why she felt she needed to tell you all today." But Sunny did. It was to shame her mother.

  "She seems to think it's exciting."

  "She is deliberately baiting me, because she knows how angry I am."

  "And wanting no part of the boy?" Martha went on sadly. "What is the trouble with children today? They do things our children wouldn't have dared to do. It isn't enough to steal a pencil from the five-and-dime or hide a pack of cigarettes. Well, the difference is, I guess, we were home."

  "Home?"

  "I didn't start working until the children were grown."

  Uneasy with her mother-in-law's inference, Sunny said, "Because back then, women didn't have careers."

  "Maybe it was better that way. I'm not sure you can do both well. This is a perfect example."

  "Do you think it wouldn't have happened if I'd been at home?" Sunny asked in dismay. "She didn't do this at home, Mom. She isn't allowed to bring boys upstairs. But she's seventeen, she's driving, she's out of the house all day long."

  "Now she is. But not always."

  No. There had been a period of time when a babysitter had watched Jessica and Darcy after school. "That sitter was in her fifties. She was totally responsible."

  "She wasn't you." Martha sighed. "Oh, Sunny. What's done is done. I think you raised your children the best way you knew how."

  Not exactly an endorsement. "But it wasn't good enough?"

  Martha didn't have to reply. The look she gave Sunny spoke of Disappointment with a capital D.

  Susan had a love-hate relationship with Thanksgiving. She loved being with Kate and her family, loved the noise and the warmth. What she hated was coming home afterward and missing her parents. After all, what was Thanksgiving about if not family?

  Pam's annual open house was usually a distraction. Held in the early evening and offering light hors d'oeuvres after a large midday meal, it could go on until eleven at night, usually leaving Susan little time to brood.

  This year, though, Susan didn't go. Oh, she had quickly accepted when the invitation arrived, but that was before news of Lily's pregnancy leaked out. Since then, Pam hadn't mentioned the open house. When Susan called her Wednesday to bow out, Pam said all the right things--I don't care what people think, I can certainly understand how you feel, I'll miss you--but she didn't insist that Susan come.

  So, at six that evening, with Lily still at Mary Kate's, Susan found herself home alone. She turned on the television, then turned it off. She opened her work folder, then closed it. She picked up one knitting project after another, but none appealed to her.

  Aimless, she wandered through the house. It was a fine house, a testament to how far she had come. When she bought it, she had sent her parents a picture, but that note, like so many before and after, went unanswered.

  At the door to Lily's room, she stopped. Lily hadn't apologized for her outburst in front of Rick, but Susan saw small attempts to atone. The bed was made, her clothes were hung, and the desktop litter neatened.

  Hadn't Susan done the same? In the months before being sent away, she had been the perfect daughter--helpful and neat, respectful to a fault. She hadn't argued, hadn't tried to get her father to change his mind. His word was gospel, and she the sinner. If she had accused him of being cruel, would anything be different?

  At Lily's dresser, Susan fingered the sock her daughter was knitting. Strikingly, it blended seed stitch and cables in a pattern Susan had never knit herself. Feeling a moment's pride, she lifted the sock to admire the back side, which was when she noted the stitches on the working needles. The sheer number puzzled her--way too many for a sock--until she glanced at the handwritten notes nearby and realized that this was no sock. It was a baby sweater being knit cuff to cuff.

  Feeling a chill, she left the room, but the image of the sweater stayed with her. The yarn was pink. Lily wanted a girl. There was something shockingly real about that.

  Wondering if her mother had had the same trouble accepting Susan's pregnancy, and hoping they might talk about it, she picked up the phone and dialed. Creatures of habit, her parents would have had an afternoon dinner with her brother and his wife's family, and should be home again by now.

  The phone rang four times. Seconds before the call would have gone to voice mail, someone answered, only to immediately hang up.

  Susan was in the den when Lily came home. The girl seemed startled to see her. "Are you okay?" she asked from the door.

  Susan nodded. "Just felt like sitting."

  "You don't usually do that."

  "No." She was usually cleaning, knitting, or working out a solution for a student with a problem, a teacher with a problem, a daughter with a problem--plotting a solution or, at the very least, an approach to finding a solution. Tonight, she did nothing but sit. "Everything okay with Mary Kate?"

  "I guess. She tried to call Abby. We haven't talked with her much since what happened at school, but the open house was still going on, so she couldn't talk. I'm sorry we didn't go this year, Mom."

  "Would you have wanted to?" Susan asked in surprise.

  "Maybe not. Emily's mom would have been there. I'm still pretty steamed about the Zaganotes." She paused. "But Pam's open house was always a fun time. You liked going."

  Susan nodded. "I did."

  Lily looked sad. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't realize people would react this way. I knew there'd be talk, and I was afraid the coach wouldn't want me on the volleyball team, but being banned from singing? Voted out? It's not like pregnancy is an STD."

  "Disease, no. Condition, yes--and just as unforgivable in some people's minds."

  "But they're wrong. It's the oldest condition in the world. Think Eve."

  "Was Eve in high school? Did she do field hockey or sing? Was her mom a prominent player in town? Times have changed, Lily. Life is complex."

  There was no argument, just a troubled look. Hating that--always--Susan patted the sofa.

  Lily perched on the edge. "Did Pam say not to come?" she asked.

  "No. It was me. I didn't want to have to answer questions."

  "All you have to say is that I did this on my own."

  "Not that easy," Susan said with a sad smile.

  She was thinking that the sober look on her daughter's face meant she might be getting the point, when that look brightened. Putting a hand on her belly, Lily asked excitedly, "Did you talk to me, Mom? You know, when I was a fetus?"

  "I did," Susan said. "You were my partner in crime."

  "I talk to her all the time."

  "Her?"

  "It's a her. I know it is."

  "I hope you're right. A he might have a tough time wearing that sweater you're knitting. It's a pretty cool sweater, though."

  "Isn't it? I'm adapting an adult pattern."

  "To infant size? That's quite a reduction."

  "Not as much as you'd think. The original pattern calls for light bulky. I'm using DK weight, so it's automatically smaller anyway. I'm doing a hat to match. Infants need hats even in summer."

  "They need lots of other things."

  "Will you make some?"

  "I was thinking of diapers and crib sheets."

  "But will you knit for my baby?" Lily asked straight out. "I want her to have things from you. Will you, Mom?"

  "Eventually."

  "For her to have when she's born? Remember that reversible blanket you made for Mrs. Davidson's baby? I want one of those."

  "You could knit it yourself."

  "It wouldn't be the same. She'll keep that blanket forever. I want it from you."

  Susan couldn't commit to knitting for a baby she couldn't yet imagine coming, so she asked, "Are those jeans getting tight?"<
br />
  Lily slouched back on the sofa and raised her sweater. At first glance, her stomach was flat; at second glance, Susan saw a tiny swell.

  Lily stroked the spot. "She is three inches long now. And her intestines are starting to grow. I mean, they've been growing all along, but now they're coming back out of the umbilical cord." Her eyes met Susan's. "Three more weeks, and I'll know the sex for sure. I'll actually be able to see her."

  "She won't look like much."

  "She will. Four months is significant." She grew cautious again. "I may need a few clothes pretty soon. I mean, like, jeans. The blogs say to get a few pairs in the next size up, not maternity yet." When Susan didn't reply, she said, "I'll pay."

  "I pay for your clothes."

  "Not Sevens."

  "Right, because I don't believe in spending that much for a pair of jeans. If you want Sevens, sweetie, you're on your own."

  "I don't need Sevens."

  "That's wise. Are Mary Kate or Jess showing yet?"

  "Jess no. Mary Kate a drop."

  But all three would be visibly pregnant before long. The thought of that gave Susan the willies. "Lily, I have to tell Phil about the other two."

  Lily sat up fast. "You can't! Not yet!"

  "I told Sunny I'd wait until after Thanksgiving. He's one of the reasons I couldn't go to Pam's. But the longer I wait to tell him, the worse it'll be when I do."

  "You can't betray Mary Kate and Jess!"

  "It's not a betrayal. It's telling someone who has a right to know. This is going to affect the school."

  "Mary Kate will let people know soon. Can't you wait a little longer? They'll hate me if you tell." She jumped to her feet. "If you were with me in this, you'd understand. But you're still angry because I didn't ask permission. When it came to the Zaganotes, you told me to move on. Well, look who can't move on now. Why is it so hard for you to accept this? Why is it so hard to be excited? This is our baby," she cried and stormed from the room.

  Susan didn't see it that way. The baby was Lily's, and the situation with Phil was growing acute. She was in a bind, balancing her role as mother against her role as principal.

  Later, when Sunny called from Albany weeping, Susan just tried to console her. She didn't discuss telling Phil. It would have only upset her more.

  Besides, at some point, the decision was Susan's alone.

  At least, that was what she thought. She waited until Monday--why ruin Phil's holiday?--then learned that he was at a conference in Denver. The message on his answering machine referred emergency calls to his assistant, but this wasn't something to share with anyone else, Susan decided. Nor, in a sense, was it an emergency. It didn't become that until Thursday.

  Chapter 10

  Lily was in the lunchroom, at one end of a long table with Mary Kate and Jess. Other students sat nearby, but the empty chairs they had left meant they were giving the three girls space.

  "It guess this is how it'll be," Lily said, "but I'm okay with it. They've always seen me as good little Lily, the principal's daughter. They don't know what to make of me now." She thought about it. "I kind of like that."

  "I wish my parents weren't so upset," said Mary Kate. "We may have underestimated their reaction."

  "Y'think?" Jess remarked.

  Lily knew. "My mom's hurt, like I deliberately disobeyed her. But I never thought of it that way."

  "My mom's furious," Jess said.

  Lily knew her mother was that, too, and it worried her a lot. She had hoped that her own control of the situation would smooth things over. She really had thought this through. Getting pregnant wasn't something you did on a whim.

  And in the end, she had to be optimistic. "They'll come around. Once they get over the shock, they'll realize a baby's a baby, and that we have each other, which will make it easier. Look at our moms and PC Wool. No one of them could have created the business on her own."

  Mary Kate finally smiled. "Can you imagine our kids taking it over someday? Honestly? I don't think it's a little Jacob in here. It's a girl who'll be best friends with your daughters, just like our moms and us."

  Lily thought so, too, but she had pictured a fourth. "Maybe that's why Abby blabbed. She feels left out."

  Jess leaned back and peered across the room. "She's still sitting with Theo Walsh. What happened to Michael?"

  "Second guy's a charm?" Lily asked, though she knew what Jess was thinking. They had agreed that the fathers wouldn't be involved, but that didn't mean they didn't matter. If you were planning to have a baby, you needed a father with good genes. Theo Walsh was marginal.

  "Uh-oh, here she comes," Mary Kate murmured.

  "Hey, guys," Abby said, sounding more confident of their welcome than she looked. "How's it going?"

  "It's going great," Jess said before Lily could answer. "No thanks to you. What you did to Lily was awful."

  Looking contrite, Abby said, "I feel bad, Lily. I didn't plan to tell. It just came out. I'm sorry."

  "Being sorry doesn't make it better," Jess said, but Lily pulled out a chair and made Abby sit.

  "Do you hate me?" Abby asked her.

  Lily couldn't. Hate implied a permanent break, and Lily didn't want that. She felt for Abby. Abby always seemed to be on the outside looking in--like she had a big name and plenty of money, but wasn't comfortable with either.

  That said, Lily was hurt. "When we agreed to do this, we talked about how important it was to keep things secret and stay totally loyal to each other. It may be hard for you right now--"

  "That doesn't excuse it," Jess cut in and might have said more if Mary Kate hadn't touched her hand.

  Abby stared at Jess. "You don't have a clue."

  "I do. It didn't happen right away for me. So maybe you have to work to make it stick. Maybe you have to try five guys before it does."

  Lily hushed her.

  But Abby was glaring. "Maybe I won't try any guys. Maybe I'm waking up and realizing what a stupid idea this was."

  "And who came up with this stupid idea?" Jess shouted.

  "Shhh."

  "No, Mary Kate," Jess argued. "It was her idea, and now she's backing out."

  Abby stood up. "I was upset, and maybe I said things I shouldn't have that day in the hall, but do you think you're any better? I should try five guys? That's disgusting. And you think you're ready to have a baby? You have no business being pregnant! Lily, yes. Mary Kate, yes. But you? I feel so sorry for your baby."

  She turned and stalked off, leaving a stunned silence in her wake--and no fewer than a dozen riveted eyes on Lily, Mary Kate, and Jess.

  "They were juniors," came Lily's breathless voice, "and they must have heard every word Abby said. I could see it in the way they were looking at us. What do we do, Mom? Should we say it isn't true?"

  Susan was walking down Main Street, head low against the wind, phone to her ear. She was coming from a meeting of community service organizations in advance of the holiday food drive. There were serious issues this year relating to new FDA requirements, but they were quickly forgotten.

  "No, Lily," she said, trying to stay calm. "Don't lie. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. They may not have heard as much as you thought. Where are you now?"

  "Still in the lunchroom. We have five minutes before class."

  Susan picked up her pace. "Go ahead to class. Try to act normally until we know for sure that anyone did hear. Tell Mary Kate and Jess to do the same. Are they okay?"

  "No. Mary Kate is trying to find Jacob. He doesn't even know she's pregnant. What was Abby thinking?"

  "I don't know, Lily. But Abby is the least of our worries." There were so many other things to consider if word was out. "You all go to class. If you hear people talking about Mary Kate and Jess, let me know. In the meantime, I'll strategize."

  Actually, what Susan was thinking was that in the meantime she would pray that those juniors hadn't heard.

  But she was barely back at school when she was approached in the lunchroom by a clust
er of girls. "We just heard something really weird, Ms. Tate," said one, and the others quickly chimed in.

  "Is Mary Kate Mello pregnant?"

  "And Jessica Barros?"

  "All three?"

  "Where did you hear this?" Susan asked.

  "Kaylee's sister heard it from someone who heard it last lunch. Is it true?"

  Susan tried to look unworried. "Well, it's a frightening thought. Let me get back to you, okay?" She lingered for another sixty seconds, casually working her way to the door. Once in the corridor, though, she hurried to her office. Her assistant was just replacing the phone. The look on her face confirmed the problem.

  "Who was that?" Susan asked.

  "Allison Monroe. She wanted to report what her students are saying."

  Allison taught introductory Spanish, mostly to freshmen. Susan considered her a friend, which gave credence to her report.

  Knowing she had to act quickly, Susan said, "Would you ask Amy Sheehan to come up here? Tell her it's urgent. Same with Meredith Parker." Meredith was the school counselor. "If my daughter or either of her friends show up, let them in, too."

  Entering her office, she closed the door and leaned against it for a minute. This was the calm before the storm. It was time to plan.

  But first she had to tell Sunny and Kate. She made the two calls; each was short and upsetting. Amy arrived, with Mary Kate on her heels, and by the time Meredith arrived, Lily and Jess were there, too.

  Amy, bless her, relieved Susan of the responsibility of formally spilling the beans by asking a startled, "You're all three pregnant?"

  The girls stared at each other. Mary Kate was the first to nod.

  "How far along?" Amy asked.

  "Eleven weeks," said Mary Kate.

  "Ten," Jessica said.

  "Intentionally?"

  There were three nods.

  "No one was supposed to know until we were starting to show," Jessica said. "This is all Abby's fault."

  Devastated, Susan braced herself against the desk. "Abby was not in that bed, or wherever you were, when each of you had unprotected sex."

  "But we wouldn't be sitting here now if it weren't for her."

  "You made a pact?" Meredith asked, her melodious alto sounding dismayed.