First Comes Love

“Well, it’s all about what you want, isn’t it?” I say.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Josie asks me. “I’m not allowed to be a mother just because I’m not married? There are plenty of wonderful single parents out there…and conversely, plenty of married people with children who are unhappy, terrible parents.” She gives me a purposeful look, clearly talking about my marriage, if not my mothering, and I feel my anger burning deeper, hotter.

“Do you really think you’re in a position to judge anyone?” I ask my sister.

“I’m not judging. Nor am I asking for advice or permission. I am simply sharing my plan with the people who matter most to me. And I was sort of hoping for a more supportive reaction. Gabe thinks it’s a great idea.”

I look at him, wondering how soon after the birth he will be seeking a new housemate. “Right. Well. With all due respect to Gabe,” I say, “he has no clue what’s involved here. He’s not a parent, now is he? Shit…you told me he forgets to take the dog out when you’re not home.”

Gabe looks at Josie and says, “That happened once.”

“Okay. Well, Dad, what do you think?” Josie says, turning to the third-least-qualified person in the room to weigh in on parenthood.

“I think…I think you have to do what makes you happy,” he stammers as I predict the number of diapers he will help her change could be counted on one hand.

Mom scowls at her ex-husband, then turns back to Josie. “Honey, you know we want to support you….We’re just asking…have you really thought this thing through?”

“Yes,” she says. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. And to be honest, since having Will’s daughter in my class—”

“I knew it!” I shout, cutting her off. “I knew this was about Will.”

“It’s not about Will!” she yells back. “It’s about Edie and my realization—”

I interrupt her again. “If you loved him so damn much, why did you screw up that whole relationship?”

Josie looks as if she’s just been slapped. “Did you really just ask me that?” she says, her voice quivering.

“Yeah. C’mon, Meredith,” Gabe says. “That’s not cool.”

“Well,” I say, crossing my arms and glaring back at him. “She’s the one using Will as an excuse to bring a child into the world.”

“An excuse?” Josie says. “The last time I checked, bringing a child into the world isn’t a bad thing.”

“It is if you can’t properly care for it.”

“Who says I can’t properly care for it? I might not have as much money as you two,” she says, “but I have a job—a great job….And I have friends and family who I thought might want to be involved in this child’s life…but I guess that was too much to ask for.”

“That’s not fair,” Mom says. “Of course we’d want to be involved.”

“Of course we would,” Dad echoes.

Josie looks at me, waiting.

“Sure.” I shrug. “I’ll breeze in for a quick game of Twister…then be on my merry way….Isn’t that what aunts do?”

“Wow. That is so unfair,” Josie says. “I’m totally involved in Harper’s life.”

Gabe chimes in, agreeing with her. “She is, Mere. And you know it.”

“Okay. Fine. But do you have any clue how much easier it is to be an aunt than a mother?”

“Do you have any clue how big of a bitch you are?” Josie says.

“Josie. Language,” Nolan says, as I announce that we’re leaving. I stand up and walk over to Harper, trying to pull her away from the dog as she whimpers that she doesn’t want to go, that she wants to stay at Aunt Josie’s.

“Fine. Stay with Aunt Josie,” I say, fuming. “In fact, why don’t you move in with Aunt Josie and Uncle Gabe? Since they want to play house and have it all figured out.”

“Meredith,” Nolan hisses, appropriately horrified that I’m taking my anger out on our daughter. My face burns with shame as I catch my breath, then tell Nolan I’ll be waiting in the car.

“Can’t you just sit down?” he says, looking up at me. “So we can all discuss this calmly?”

“No. I can’t,” I say, shaking my head. Then, talking about my sister in the third person, I add, “Would someone please tell her that bringing a child into the world is the hardest thing you can do?”

When nobody answers, I finally turn to walk out of the house, catching the look of anguish on Mom’s face and knowing, in an instant, she’s thinking how wrong I am about this. That watching your child leave the world is actually much harder.





chapter nine





JOSIE


“Well, that went swimmingly,” Gabe deadpans the second the door closes behind Mom and Dad, the two of them giving new meaning to the expression eat and run.

“It’s all Meredith’s fault,” I say. There was no way the rest of us could recover from her outburst and exit, the conversation vacillating between awkward, tense, and downright contentious.

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