Title: Serendipity
Author: Andrea
Spoilers: Thought I should mention that this fic, like me, is SPOILER FREE. I just made it up. I couldn't very well put in any spoilers since I don't know any, anyway. But I thought I should mention it in case anyone was wondering. I also wanted to mention my own spoiler-free status and ask that no one mention anything spoileriffic in the reviews. Not that anyone has so far … but you know, just thought I should say something now before it's too late.
Summary: Abby's pregnant, but no one seems to know who the daddy is.
Author's Note: Thanks, LISA. First off, I'd like to thank everyone for all the reviews and for all the various suggestions. Feel free to continue with the input. Having said that, I'd like to say that while I'm not above bribing you guys … or you know, using my usual extortion tactics to get you to review, *I* do not respond well to rude demands. I never promised when I would get chapter 4 up … I wrote it -- so I get to decide when to post it. And I don't generally hold chapters back without a good reason. I *was* going to wait until I had chapter 5 written so that I could post that one fairly quickly after this one … but since someone implied that just because I have a chapter written, I have some sort of obligation to post it … here it is. With chapter 5 nowhere near done. So don't bitch and moan to me when it's two weeks (or more) until the next post. Whine to Kristyn, it was her idea for me to post this now. Where is it? It's here. I hope you're happy. So here's to impatience. Woo hoo! I thought about holding back this chapter for a while (regardless of when I get chapter 5 done) because I'm a spiteful bitch like that, but then Lynn came along and said the next chapter would put a smile on lot people's faces so I decided to go ahead and post it tonight. After all, it doesn't matter to *me* … I was just trying to do something nice for the readers … space it out, you know, so there would be less of a wait between this and the next. But if this is what you want … be my guest. Of course, I still want your reviews, and I hope you'll send them even though they can't 'buy' you an additional chapter quickly. The posting of this one will be entirely dependent upon my free time and inspiration. But remember the good reviews are really inspiring and might just keep me working on the next chapter. And once again, I will update the other stories when and if I am able to write additional chapters for them. I don't know if people assume I have chapters and chapters written that I refuse to post, but I assure you that is not the case. And what I haven't written, I can't post. So, again, when and if I am able to get in another chapter on one of the other fics, I will post it. I appreciate the interest, but as most of you seem to understand, it's not easy to churn out these chapters. For those of you who don't understand it … let me just say this … I believe in quality over quantity. If you are only interested in quick posts, you might have to look elsewhere. And if you enjoy my writing as it is, you have to wait until I'm ready to write it or post it. Quality work takes time, my friends. Anyway, I'll get off my soapbox now. I hope you enjoy this chapter … and yes, sometimes I do steal lines straight from the show. But I figure that's okay since I routinely steal lines from myself. Anyway … yeah. Enjoy. I hope this really does put a smile on lots of people's faces. And the chapter title? Shout out to everybody's favorite perfectionist/soon-to-be jailbird? Uh … maybe.
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Chapter 4: A Good Thing
"Mom!" I call, catching sight of her on the other side of Union Station. I wave my arm over my head in a big sweeping gesture, hoping to attract her attention. It must work because I see her break into a smile, returning my wave. We don't exactly run into each other's arms, but we do hurry toward one another, with Maggie pulling her suitcase along behind her, and me trying to assess her state of mind. We meet halfway, in what is probably one of the most friendly reunions we've ever shared.
"Oh, Abby. It's so good to see you," she says, sounding sincere. She gives me a big smile before pulling me into a hug. Quickly she pulls back, though, placing her hands on either side of my face. "Let me look at you."
"Mom," I protest, not especially wanting her to scrutinize me like this in public.
"You look good. How are you? Are you good?" she asks intently. Maybe she's wondering why I asked her here on the spur-of-the-moment. I refused to give her any hints over the phone. So maybe she's worried that I'm about to spring some bad news on her.
"Yeah, I'm good. How are you?"
"On my meds."
"I wasn't asking," I inform her, taking her suitcase and pulling it behind me, leading the way to my car.
"No, but you were probably wondering," she points out, following along behind me.
"Can you blame me? At least I didn't ask this time," I say in a playful tone.
"And I guess I should be glad. I am glad that you invited me for a visit. I'm only sorry your brother couldn't make it."
"That's okay," I tell her. "I'm kinda glad it's just us."
"You are?" Her voice indicates her disbelief. And why shouldn't she be skeptical? After all, it's not like I'm in the habit of inviting her to town for a friendly visit.
"Yeah. Not that I wouldn't have loved to see Eric, too."
"He was disappointed that he couldn't get the time off."
"Well, tell him I'll come and visit you guys soon. This summer, when it's horribly hot and humid here."
"He'll like that."
"How is he?"
"On his meds."
"Mom." We've reached the car, and pause in our conversation until we are both settled and on our way.
"Eric is … fine," Mom says after a few minutes of idle chitchat, picking up our former conversation where we left off. "I mean, he struggles sometimes. But he's adjusting, I think. Learning to live with it."
"Good. That's good," I let out a breath that I didn't even realize I was holding. I think a part of me was scared that she would arrive bearing tales of woe or warning me that disaster is imminent. And I think that would have been more than I could have handled right now.
"So when are you going to tell me what this is all about?" Maggie demands as we get closer to my place.
"What what's all about? Can't I invite my mother for a visit?"
"Yes. But you don't. So c'mon, Abby … I'm your mother, you can't lie to me."
"Who's lying? I'm not lying."
"You're keeping secrets from me."
"Would I invite you here if I was trying to keep something from you?"
"You're hiding something," she says, peering at me through narrowed eyes. "I know you are. Something is going on."
"I'm not hiding anything."
"Abby …"
"Okay, you're right," I say, giving in. "Something is going on. And that's why I invited you here. But I'm not gonna just blurt it out in the car. We'll talk about it when we get home. Are you hungry? Do you want to stop and get some lunch?"
"No."
"No?"
"And wait that much longer to find out what this big secret of yours is? No way. I can't stand the suspense."
"Okay," I agree, turning the car toward home.
"Did you get kicked out of med school again?" she asks after a few minutes. Apparently the suspense really is killing her.
"No! And I didn't get kicked out last time. They just made me leave until I paid up."
"Oh my God, you got fired."
"No, Mom. I didn't get fired," I say with a bit of exasperation.
"You're not graduating?"
"Not unless you know something I don't know. Now would you just stop trying to guess? I told you we'll talk about it when we get to my place. And you know, we are almost there."
"Fine," she says in conciliatory tone, "I won't say another word until we get there."
"Fine." When I look over at her as we are sitting at the next red light, she gives me a little smile with a small wave. Apparently she means that literally. Okay, fine. Whatever. I find myself rolling my eyes. Get used to it, Abby … this is what it'll be like when it's your child sitting in the seat next to you. I feel the start of a smile turn up the corners of my mouth.
"What's that smile for?" Maggie demands, breaking her vow of silence.
"Nothing."
"'Nothing' she says. Invited me here to torture me, I guess."
"Mom."
"What?"
"We're here," I tell her, pulling up to the curb and stopping the car. We retrieve her luggage and start inside. When we get to the staircase, I try to take the suitcase from her.
"Abby, let me."
"No, I'll do it."
"No, you won't. For God's sake, Abby, I'm not an invalid. I know you think I'm quite elderly, but I'll have you know that I don't even qualify for senior discounts yet. So you can stop digging my grave, I've still got both feet firmly planted on the ground." Great, now she's got a complex about getting old. Wait until I tell her she's gonna be a grandma. She'll just love that.
"Could you be more dramatic?" I ask her, watching as she hefts her suitcase and starts up the stairs.
"Probably. Would you like me to try?"
"Not especially." We make it to the top of the stairs without any trouble, and after just a few attempts, I manage to shove the door open and let her in to my apartment.
"I like what you've done with the place," Maggie says dryly, looking around. I never realized that I got my sarcastic streak from her.
"Yeah, well … I meant to clean up, but then I ended up doing double duty in the ER yesterday, and I was just too wiped out when I got home."
"Double duty?" she asks as we settle in, taking off our jackets and sitting down on the couch.
"Yeah, my rotation during the day, and a nursing shift last night."
She shakes her head and clucks her tongue at me. "You're gonna make yourself sick working those kind of hours. I mean, med school and nursing?"
"Well, I don't really have much choice. If I wanna eat, I have to work at a job where they actually pay me. Besides, it won't be much longer."
"You mean you'll be able to stop taking nursing shifts once you graduate?"
"Something like that. And, you know, it isn't like this is the first time that I've done it."
She shakes her head again. "And that Richard seemed like such a nice young man." This gets an eye roll from me. "Too bad he turned out to be such an unequivocal jerk. After all those years you spent supporting him …"
"I wouldn't take his money, anyway. It's bad enough I had to get him to co-sign my school loans. God, I'll be living that down for the rest of my life."
"It's the least he could do."
"Try telling him that. You would have thought I was asking for a kidney."
"So how did you get him to agree?"
"Good old-fashioned guilt trip. I just reminded him that I never asked him for anything -- no support, no alimony. And I really don't care if I have to work three jobs. I'd rather do that than take his money."
She's giving me a look that I can't quite discern.
"What?" I ask.
"Sometimes I think that you're just too independent for your own good."
"Gee, I wonder where I learned that?" I ask, my voice full of sarcasm.
"Abby."
"What choice do I have, Mom? I mean, who exactly do you suggest I depend on? I've learned the hard way that the only person I can really count on is myself."
"Abby …" There's something about the look on her face …guilt, shame. I realize that she thinks this is some sort of veiled reference to our past struggles.
"I don't just mean you, Mom. It's a lesson I've had to learn over and over. But I think maybe I've got it now."
"Oh, sweetie …" she starts, her voice soft and full of concern. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
"Of course." I know she's probably lamenting my cynical and jaded attitude. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the way the world works." She gives me a long, contemplative look probably wondering how she can restore my faith in the inherent goodness of the universe. Yeah, good luck with that one.
"Abby, I just think -"
"Mom," I interrupt. "Would you mind if we didn't talk about this right now?"
She opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it again, possibly reconsidering. "Whatever you want, sweetie."
"Thank you." I give her a smile. "So … are you hungry? Want something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"
"No, Abby. I don't want anything to eat or drink, but I would like to know what's going on with my daughter." She studies me for a minute, brushing the hair back from my face. "You seem happy, so I guess it can't be anything too bad."
"It's nothing bad. It's just … something I wanted to tell you in person."
"Okay." She looks at me expectantly. Waiting for me to share my news.
"Uh … well … okay … um … a few weeks ago … last month I … God, this is harder than I thought it would be. But then I haven't really had to tell anyone yet. I mean, yeah, I told Luka, but … and of course Susan knows … and Sam. But I didn't tell them. I mean, they were there and --"
"Abby? Honey?" She puts a hand on my arm, focusing my attention on her. I realize that I'm babbling and making no sense. I take a deep breath. She smiles encouragingly. I don't know why it's so hard to get the words out.
"I don't know how to say it," I tell her in a small voice.
"Well … then … just say it."
"Okay. Right. Well … Mom?"
"Yes?"
"I … I'm …" Jesus, Abby. Just say it. So I do. All in a big rush. "I'mgonnahaveababy." There. Done. Okay, that's better. I wait for her reaction, but there's none forthcoming. "Mom? Did you hear me? You're gonna be a grandma."
Now it's her turn to be speechless and unable to find just the right words. "Is this a joke?" she finally asks, looking around the room as if she expects someone to jump out and announce that she's being taped on a hidden camera.
"No," I say with laugh, "It's no joke. It's a baby. Well, technically, it's a fetus. About three months old," I tell her, looking down and resting my hand lightly on my stomach.
"You're pregnant?" I nod. "You're really pregnant?"
"Well, I hope so or my six-months' supply of prenatal vitamins is all for nothing."
"You're gonna have a baby?" She sounds incredulous. And why shouldn't she be shocked? After all, this has come out of nowhere.
"Yeah, I am."
"And … it's a … good thing?" she asks, tentatively.
"Yeah," I say with a big smile, blinking back tears that have suddenly sprung to my eyes, "It's a good thing. It's a very good thing."
"Oh, Abby," she says, her voice heavy with emotion. I see the tears in her own eyes as she reaches out and pulls me to her. "My baby is gonna have a baby. Oh my God." She takes in a sharp breath of air and then lets it out with a chuckle. "I'm gonna be a grandma."
"Yeah." She pulls away from me, holding me at arm's length to study me.
"You don't know how long I've wanted this, Abby."
"Yeah, I do," I say quietly. Probably as long as I have.
"I had no idea," she says, grinning at me.
"Neither did I," I say under my breath, but she doesn't seem to notice.
"Hello, in there," she says, bending down toward my stomach, putting a hand on my belly. "I'm your grandma." She looks back up at me. "Oh God, Abby, this is so great. A baby. I can't believe it. Me, a grandma. And you're gonna be a mommy. You're happy, right? You seem happy."
"Yeah, I'm happy. Scared. Nervous. But happy."
"And you're feeling okay?"
"Not too bad. Tired, mostly. Before I knew I was pregnant, I was pretty sick. But that's because I thought I was just sick. Once I knew, and started behaving accordingly, I felt much better."
"So you're eating?"
"Everything in sight," I assure her.
"Good. You need your strength. And with those crazy hours you work …"
"Don't worry, Mom. We're getting plenty of rest."
"We?"
"Yeah. Me … and the baby? Remember?"
"Oh. I thought maybe you meant …" She trails off. Seems to be debating about something. "Abby? Uh … well … how did this happen?"
"Uh … the usual way?" What? Does she want details?
"I didn't even know you were seeing anyone."
I kinda shrug. "I … wasn't."
"So … who is it? Who's the father?" Oh yeah. That pesky detail.
"There is no father. It's just me and this baby."
"Ooh," she says, as if she's made a sudden realization. "Well, hey. I think that's great. I mean, if you decided you wanted a child, and were ready to do it on your own … well, by whatever means necessary. I mean, I don't have any problem with you using a sperm donor."
I can't help it. I start laughing immediately. "Mom! I said it was the 'usual way' … on what planet is a sperm donor the 'usual way?' So no, it wasn't a sperm donor. Although he might as well have been," I say with just a touch of bitterness in my voice. "But no … this happened the good old fashioned way -- getting caught up in a careless moment."
"Oh." After a short pause, "Was it Luka?"
"Luka?" Why do people keep asking me that? "No, it's not Luka's. Luka has a new girlfriend, but not me."
"Oh. I just thought … I mean, you mentioned before that you told him. At least I think you did."
"In the midst of my incoherent babbling? Yeah, I did. And I did tell him. But not because he's the father. Because he was worried about me. And because I barfed in his car."
"Oh. Ouch."
"Yeah. Definitely makes the top ten of my most embarrassing moments."
"So?"
"So …" I repeat.
"Oh! Did you and John get back together?"
"Carter and I? No, we're not back together. Carter's … uh … got a new girlfriend, now, too."
"Oh. That's right. The one that's ten thousand miles away."
"That's the one."
"Some girlfriend."
"Oh, no. It's perfect, really. She's never here. So he can pretend she's anything he wants her to be. Works out great for him." Just a little bit of bitterness there, too.
"Sweetie, I'm sorry things didn't work out with him."
"It's okay. I always knew it was just a matter of time. I figured I'd find some way to screw it up. Whatever. It doesn't matter. He's got a new life now. And I've got my baby."
"So who is the father?"
I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter. He's not going to be a part of this."
"There you go again," she says. "Letting your fierce independence get in the way. Not that I don't admire your ability to take care of yourself … but Abby … a child needs a father."
"Why? I didn't have one."
"Abby. You can't let foolish pride or stubbornness or even hurt feelings get in the way of what's best for your baby."
"Mom, I'm not. Okay? Trust me. This isn't me being stubborn or vindictive. He can't be involved."
"He told you that? What kind of an asshole -"
"No. He didn't tell me that. I just … know. It's not a good situation. It's better for everyone if I do this on my own."
"Well, what did he say?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" I shrug. "Did you even tell him?" I shake my head 'no.' "Oh, Abby. You have to tell him."
"I can't. It wouldn't be fair."
"To who?"
"Anyone."
"He has a right to know."
"He wouldn't want to know. It would complicate things way too much. It's better that he just doesn't know."
"Abby, I can't believe that."
"Believe me. He doesn't want anything to do with me. He wouldn't want anything to do with this baby. And even if he did … he just can't."
"Well, he obviously wanted something to do with you three months ago. He has a responsibility -"
"It was a mistake, all right? I mean, something incredible has come out of it … but I know that it never should have happened. He made a mistake. We made a mistake. "
"Oh my God. He's married."
"No. He's not married."
"Then what's the problem?"
"I told you. It was a mistake. We never should have …" I trail off, but then glancing down, I find myself smiling, "But I'm awfully glad that we did. He wouldn't feel that way, though. I'm the one who wants this. He wouldn't. It's the best thing that ever happened to me; it would be the worst thing that could happen to him. And I'm not gonna ruin his life. I'm not gonna let this child bear that weight. I made the choice to do this … to have this baby, knowing that I would be on my own."
"How do you know how he would feel? This isn't the kind of thing you should keep from someone. The last time -"
"This isn't like the last time. I'm having this baby."
"And you're afraid he wouldn't want you to have the baby?" She sounds a bit confused.
"I … I don't know what he'd want. But it doesn't matter, because not having the baby is not an option. Not this time."
"Well, sweetie, if you don't know what he would want, how do you know he wouldn't want to be involved?"
"I don't know. Maybe he would. But that would almost be just as bad as him rejecting this baby. I don't want him doing anything out of obligation …or pity."
"It's his child, too, Abby."
"Mom … look, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But this is my decision to make. And I already made it. This is how it has to be."
"You're not even gonna tell me who he is? What his name is?"
"Mom …"
"You do know who he is, don't you?"
"Mom! Of course I know who the father is." God, what kind of slut does she think I am?
"That's not what I meant. I meant, you know him … as in know his name. He's not just some anonymous stranger that you don't even have a telephone number for, is he?"
"No, Mom. He's not some guy I picked up off the street. He's not some total stranger."
"So what's his name?"
I shake my head, refusing to answer. "Mom … please?"
"Is it so much for me to want to know the name of my grandchild's father?"
"I know it's hard for you to understand. But right now … I just want … need to keep it a secret."
"And what are you gonna tell the baby?"
"I don't know," I say, getting up and heading into the kitchen. I open up the fridge and start taking things out, concentrating on thinking about what I can make for lunch.
"You don't think that your child might want to know who Daddy is?" she asks, following me to the kitchen.
"I haven't figured that part out yet. I figure I've got plenty of time for that one. I'm more worried about what to say when -" I stop abruptly, and quickly change the subject. "Chicken salad? Or turkey club?"
But she's not going to be distracted that easily. "Either one. But what are you worried about?"
"Nothing," I say, waving my hand dismissively.
"Abby."
"It's nothing."
"Don't lie to your mother, Abigail."
"You know I hate it when you call me Abigail," I tell her, resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at her. Instead I concentrate on mixing up the chicken salad.
"Then don't lie to me. You don't know what to say when … what?"
I roll my eyes. Oh, hell … I might as well tell her. "When he figures out that I'm pregnant."
"What?" Her tone of voice indicates that she's wondering if she heard me right.
"Well, he's not completely oblivious. Unless I move out of town, I think that sooner or later he might figure out that I'm pregnant."
"You still see him? Around town, I mean?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
"Oh, Abby. And you think you're gonna be able to keep this from him?"
I shrug.
"What are you going to do when he asks you about the baby?"
"I don't know. Lie?"
"You're gonna look your baby's father in the eye and lie? Right to his face?"
"I could always move home to Minneapolis."
"Well, not that I wouldn't love to have you … and my grandbaby … " At the mention of the baby, she breaks into a big grin, "… close by. But Abby, you can't run from this."
"I know. And besides, this is … home. Work's here. My friends are here …" I trail off as I turn away from her, dropping slices of bread into the toaster.
"Your baby's father is here."
"I told you: there is no father. He's not a part of the equation. So you might as well just pretend that I did use a sperm donor."
"But you didn't. Abby ..." I get the plates out of the cupboard and silverware out of the drawer. Finally I'm forced to turn around, and she manages to catch my eye. "Don't pretend that it doesn't make a difference. You know it does. And this man … whoever he is … has a right to know."
"Maggie …"
She gives me a stern, motherly look. "You need to tell him, Abby." She smiles at me, her face softening. "And then you can tell me."
I chuckle quietly. "You're not gonna give up on that, are you?"
"Well pardon me for wanting to know my grandchild's last name."
"Well that I can tell you." She seems excited at the prospect. "Wyczenski? Same as you."
She gives me a somewhat surprised look. "You're really serious about cutting him out completely."
"It really is for the best," I say, concentrating on the sandwiches I'm putting together.
"I know you think that now. But you have to consider what's gonna happen a few years from now. Or even a few months from now. What are you gonna tell your child? What are you gonna tell this mystery man that's still at least on the periphery of your life? You said yourself that he'll probably wonder. What happens when the baby's born?"
"Well, if it looks like me, it won't matter." I'm instantly sorry for the flip response, but I'm not really ready to deal with this yet.
"That's not what I meant. But let's just say the baby does look like you, and you manage to convince this poor guy --"
"Poor guy? Great, take his side. Listen Maggie, you have no idea what has gone on, you don't know -"
"Of course not. You won't tell me. And maybe you're right to keep him out of it. At least maybe that's the right thing for you. But what about the baby? When it asks where its daddy is, are you just going to tell your child that it doesn't have one and expect it to accept that? And what are you gonna put down under 'Father' on the birth certificate? 'Unknown?' Like you're some kind of common …"
"Tramp?" I supply. "Look, Mom …you're right, I haven't thought this through. I've only known about this baby for month … I was a little slow on the uptake. And I haven't figured it all out yet. All I know is that if tell the father right now, it's just gonna make both of our lives unbearably complicated. And I can't deal with that. Not yet. So I just want to keep it under wraps for as long as I can. I know perfectly well I can't hide it forever. But I just want to buy myself as much time as I can. So that I can sort things out for myself first. I don't know for sure what I'm going to do about the father … I'll have to figure it out as I go along."
I feel myself getting a little teary, but I plunge on anyway. "But even if he eventually finds out, I'm still gonna raise this child myself. And the only thing I'm sure of in this whole thing is that I'm gonna love this baby. And take good care of him or her. And … be the best mom that I can. I just want this child to have a happy, uncomplicated childhood. I can't give my baby the perfect white-picket-fence family, so I'm gonna do whatever it takes to protect her from … constant upheaval. I don't want her life to be full of arguments between her parents, stressful situations, being shuffled between homes and having two different families. I just want it to be the two of us. Because I know that I will always be there for her. And if all she's ever known is it just being the two of us, then maybe she's not gonna feel that loss so much, you know?"
"Abby … I know how much it hurt you when your dad left. But there's no reason to think that this baby's father would do the same thing. Maybe you should give him a chance."
"I can't take that risk. For myself? Maybe I would. But for this baby? No way."
"But Abby …"
"It's not just that. It wouldn't be fair to him, either. Because he'd feel obligated. And he already has other obligations. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want this child to ever feel like a burden, either. I want this baby. That's what I want my child to know … a world where she's wanted so completely …"
"But what if he wants it too?"
"He wouldn't. I told you. He'd feel compelled to live up to his responsibility, but it would just end up being a mess. I know you're trying to look out for us … but I'd really rather not talk about this anymore right now, okay? I'm having a baby. And I feel like it's something to celebrate. I'm having a baby. You're gonna be a grandma. Eric's gonna be an uncle. We're gonna have new member of the Wyczenski family, such as it is. Isn't that enough?"
"Of course it's enough to celebrate. I think it's wonderful." She reaches across the table where we are seated and takes my hand in hers. "You're gonna be a great mom. This baby will be very lucky to have you."
"It's not gonna be easy." I keep pointing this out, as much as a reminder to myself as anything else.
"No. It's not. But you won't have the problems that I did. You're already way ahead of the game."
"Still … I … I'm gonna need your help," I say, perhaps for the first time in my life.
"Well, you've got it. Whatever I can do, Abby. Just say the word. I'll come and stay for a while when the baby's born, if you want. You can call me at 3 a.m. when you're up with a colicky baby -- I've had some experience with that."
"Was I a colicky baby?"
"No, your brother. Do you remember how he used to cry?" I shake my head because my memories of Eric's infancy are somewhat blurry and sketchy. "Well, he did. Most of the day and night the first few months of his life. But not you. You were the perfect baby."
"I was?" I asked, surprised. I never would have guessed.
"Like a little angel. You didn't cry much. You used to wake up laughing, in fact."
"I did?"
"Yeah. I wish you could remember it, Abby. Because for a while there, we were happy. The day I found out I was pregnant with you was the best day of my life. Until the day you were born. I don't know what it was … maybe something about all those pregnancy hormones, but the whole time I was pregnant with you, and even after you were born, I was good. Not depressed. Not too happy. Your first couple of years … those were probably the best years of my life … at least until these last few. But you were such a sweet child. Pleasant and cheerful. And I felt so luck to have you. I loved you so much. There's nothing quite like the love you feel for your baby. You'll see."
"Oh, I already know," I say, taking a break from my lunch and letting my hand fall to my belly.
"Just wait. What you feel now is amazing, but once that baby is born …"
"It gets stronger?"
"Oh, yeah. The first time I held you … it was like you were the only thing that mattered. I just wish it could have stayed that way. That's what I wanted … to put you and Eric first, but …"
"It's okay, Mom. It was the disease." Because I know that's true. And more and more I'm coming to realize that she really does love me. And not just in her own odd way, but the way any normal mother loves her daughter. She wouldn't be here now, I guess, if she didn't.
"Yes, it was the disease. But that doesn't mean that I don't wish things could have been different. But they will be for this baby. She'll always know that she's the most important thing to you. To us. That she comes first in this family."
"Well, we don't want to spoil her … or him. A little hardship isn't always a bad thing."
"But it's probably nice to be able to count on your mother being there for you. Or just being there. At least your child won't have to worry about waking up to find you gone."
"No. But I'm worried about all the other things I'll inevitably mess up."
"Don't worry so much. I messed up with you in just about every way possible, honey. But look how you turned out."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"You don't mean that. Look at you. You've been through so much, and you've managed to keep yourself afloat. You're starting a new career … as a doctor, for goodness sake. And now you're making me a grandma." I can't help but smile in response to the ecstatic expression on her face when she says that word, 'grandma.' "I don't think you've turned out so bad. Now if you could just work out this nonsense about the baby's father …"
"Mom."
"You're really not going to tell me?"
"No."
"Your own mother?"
"No. Not now. Can't we just go back to the part where you're all excited about becoming a grandma? Let's just concentrate on that."
"I'm gonna be a grandma."
"Yeah, you are."
"A grandma."
"Don't you have anything else to say about it?" I ask her.
She stops and thinks for a minute, giving me a long look. Finally, a smile creeps across her face.
"Well," she says, "… it's about time."