by Mary Birk
“I know.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to finish this project. Then I’ll go to Terrence and tell him. I need to do it in person.” She hugged her arms around her chest. “Oh, Jeanne, I am so dreading telling him.”
“I don’t blame you.” Jeanne shook her head.
“He’s going to be so hurt. I mean, it’s one thing that I was with someone else while we were still married, he actually understands that in his own way, only because of how we’d left it between us. But to have another man’s baby? I don’t think he’ll be able to handle that.”
“You’re going to keep the baby, then?”
“Yes. No matter who the father is, I’m the mother.” She smiled with more confidence than she felt. “But I doubt Terrence would want me to live with him in Scotland with him with things like they are. What’s he going to tell people? My wife’s pregnant but I don’t know yet if it’s my kid or the other guy she was sleeping with?” She ran a hand over her face. “His whole family is waiting for Terrence’s first child, especially if it’s a boy. He’s going to be devastated.”
“What about Andrew?”
“I’ll tell him, too, of course. If the baby is Andrew’s, then he has the right to be its father and the baby has the right to spend time with him. And think about that—giving him hope after what he’s been through. But if it’s not his, then it may just feel like another loss to him.”
“Andrew will want that child to be near him. He’ll need it.”
“I know.” She felt so small. “God, what a mess I’ve made of things.”
“It’s a mess.” Jeanne agreed.
“What am I going to do?”
“I guess just figure it out as you go. It may be a mess, but a baby is a baby. I know my children are what keep me going.”
“I’m scared. I didn’t think I was ready to be a mother yet, but I love this baby already. If it wasn’t so awful, I’d be excited.”
“You can let yourself be excited around me. I’ll finally get to be an aunt myself.”
“Thanks. Speaking of aunts, don’t tell Meg yet, okay? It might be a little too much for her to take right now. And it’s still really early.”
Jeanne nodded. “Yes, it’s probably better to wait before you tell Meg. What about Mom?”
“I don’t want anyone else to know until I tell Terrence and Andrew. And for God’s sake, don’t tell your children. They can’t keep a secret.”
SUNDAY, MARCH 15
ANDREW GRAINGER was in his studio early. He wasn’t able to manage the stairs until just last week, but now he couldn’t keep himself from working. His strength was slowly but steadily returning. Possessed by his old passion, he’d worked long days all week, going to bed late and getting up early, taking only short breaks to get enough food to ensure his energy did not flag. Halfway through the week, he realized what his painting was missing, and had furiously sketched out the idea he felt growing in him until he had it exactly right.
That morning he’d woken to the sound of rain hitting against the house, and now, from the studio windows, he could vaguely make out the ocean. The distorting lens of the furious rain made the surf foaming up, hitting the rocks of the bay, look like an impressionistic painting gone mad.
He loved this place and knew he would never feel at home anywhere but here. This house, this town, this ocean. Anne would be leaving, and that hurt unbelievably, but there was a good possibility that she’d be back. Even if she didn’t come back, if the child was his he would never completely lose her.
He looked over at the drawing area he’d first set up for his daughter when she had been about three to keep her busy long enough for him to get little bursts of work done. Along with her child-sized drawing table, she’d had a chair next to where he worked so she could snuggle up and watch him or just look at her books. The gray cat often joined her, making a bed in her little lap or curling up next to her. Now the cat sat on the chair by herself.
He would not move Lenore’s things. He loved remembering her sitting there. She had been real and she had been his daughter, any details of biology notwithstanding. And now maybe there would be another child who would sit there.
He turned on the sound system and put a classical music station on the tuner. Mozart’s Symphony No. 29 in A Major filled the room.
Today he was ready to finish the painting. More than ready. He felt like a violin waiting impatiently for the bow’s touch to release the music that was bursting to get out. He went to his easel and started work. By afternoon, driven by feelings of exhilaration and release, his pace had built up to a frenzy.
Finally he was finished. He stepped back to see if what he felt had come through on the canvas, and smiled with exalted intoxication and satisfaction.
An almost a fantasy-like essence infused the painting. The sea sparkled, while in the sky above it, the sun was coming out. In the waters of Bodega Bay a beautiful dark haired woman floated, the silvery iridescent tip of a fish tail flashing brilliantly where her legs would have been. Swimming towards her out-stretched arms was a small dark haired little girl mermaid.
Lenore joining her mother.
THE END
Author’s Note: On Scientific Advances
Doubtless many readers will be aware that a reliable and relatively risk-free in utero test for paternity, Cell-free fetal DNA testing, is now available. This prenatal screening tool, which was first developed and used to detect potential health issues in the fetus, involves taking a blood sample from the woman and the potential father(s) and is 98% accurate for paternity. Unfortunately for Anne, this story takes place in 2009, a little too early for Anne’s physician to have offered the test to her.