First Comes Love

I tense up, thinking that it’s never all good.

“Just tell us you’re healthy,” Mom says before kissing the top of Harper’s head.

“Perfectly healthy,” Josie says. “I just wanted to have my family over…and talk to you about something….” Her voice trails off.

“Josie,” Gabe finally says; he’s the only one who can ever really reason with her. “Why don’t you just tell them so we can have dinner?”

She takes a deep breath, seeming to relish the moment.

“Wait,” I say, as it occurs to me that her news might not be rated PG. “Are you sure this is okay for Harper to hear?”

Josie glares at me. “Omigod. Could you have any less confidence in me?”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “But I have to put my daughter first.”

“Look, Meredith,” she snaps back. “I really don’t appreciate the implication that I’d do anything—”

“Girls!” Mom pleads. “Please, please don’t fight! This is hard enough—”

“Actually, Mom, there’s nothing hard about tonight whatsoever,” Josie says. “This is a celebration. I have wonderful news.”

I shake my head, feeling certain that I won’t agree, as she stands, looks purposefully around the room, and says in a loud, clear voice, “What I brought you here to tell you is that I’m going to have a baby.” She takes a deep breath, then smiles, looking triumphant.

At least five seconds of stunned silence pass before Harper begins to clap and cheer, mimicking the reaction to our good friends’ pregnancy news last month, clearly unable to distinguish the vast difference between the two scenarios.

“A girl baby?” she asks, her eyes bright.

“Oh. That I don’t know yet, sweetie,” Josie says, beaming as I grind my teeth into my tongue, determined not to be the first adult to speak, especially since the only words coming to mind are what the fuck.

“Hey, Jo,” Gabe says under his breath. “You might want to clarify here.”

She gives him a blank look as it occurs to me, once again, that he might have a role in all of this.

“Your announcement…It’s a bit…misleading,” he says.

When she continues to look befuddled, he gives her his best don’t-be-such-a-dipshit look, then clues the rest of us in. “She’s not currently pregnant,” he says. “It’s just her…plan to become pregnant.”

I watch Mom exhale with visible relief.

“Oh. Yeah. Right,” Josie says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “When I say I’m going to have a baby, I don’t mean that I’m pregnant now. I mean that I plan to get pregnant. As soon as possible.”

“And how do you plan on accomplishing that, exactly?” I ask her.

“I’m going to a sperm bank,” she says. “That’s how.”

I glance at Nolan and take twisted pleasure in the fact that he finally looks annoyed. “Josie,” he says, gesturing toward Harper.

“Oh, c’mon. She doesn’t know what a sperm bank is,” Josie says under her breath, which, of course, is Harper’s cue to ask what a sperm bank is.

“Harper, honey, why don’t you get Revis a bone?” Mom says.

Harper happily takes this suggestion, but before she’s even out of the room, Josie says, “I don’t think there’s anything to be so secretive about….I’m going to want Harper to know where her cousin comes from.”

“Fine,” Nolan says calmly but firmly. “When she’s old enough to understand it…But we’d really like to avoid a discussion about the birds and the bees at age four….”

“That was not my intent,” Josie says, then launches into one of her know-it-all explanations about child development.

I cut her off. “Well, when you have your test-tube baby, you can make those decisions. But Harper is our daughter,” I say. “And we would appreciate it if you kept her out of these discussions.”

Josie stares at me with pursed lips, then says, “First, I don’t think a child should be defined by the circumstances of his or her conception. Second, it wouldn’t be a test-tube baby.”

Before I can respond, Mom says, “What about marriage?”

“What about it?” Josie says, looking defiant.

“Well…are you just…giving up on that idea?”

“Well, Mom. Maybe that will happen later….I hope it does….But I’m almost thirty-eight—”

“Women have babies into their forties now,” Dad says, his first contribution to the conversation.

I glare at him, wondering if he has plans to impregnate his court reporter, as Josie says, “Yes. True. Some do. But it’s risky to wait.”

“You could always freeze your eggs,” Mom says.

“I could,” Josie replies. “But I’m ready for a baby now.”

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