“God, Kate, don’t look like that.” Fiona stood at my side, her arms wrapped around my shoulders, her chin pressed to my temple.
She wasn’t much taller than me, but at some point I’d bowed my head and tried to curl into myself. I held Jonah against my chest and let the sorrow fill me.
I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry over this anymore. I’d spilled too many tears and dealt with too much heartbreak.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to cry. It was just that it didn’t fix anything. If crying helped my infertility, I would have had hundreds of kids by now.
“It’s not fair, Fi,” I sniffled.
With the tone that only a mother can carry, she whispered, “Life rarely is.” We stood there until Jack needed his mom’s help and Gigi got restless.
Eventually, we moved into the living room where the kids could curl up with us and watch a movie. Fiona took Jonah back so she could nurse him. I exchanged a real baby for my fur baby. Annie crawled up on my lap and nudged my hand with her cold, wet nose until I stroked her back and scratched behind her ears.
Gigi eventually fell asleep against my side and Jack wandered back into the kitchen to play Legos again. My friend’s kids were amazing. Well behaved and adventurous. They could be handfuls of chaos, but they were sweet and respectful too.
In college, Fiona had been a little wild. Even at the beginning of their marriage, she and Austin had loved to go out and party. But as soon as she found out she was pregnant with Jack, she changed. It was like she found her purpose in life, her meaning.
I watched her grow from sorority girl to super mom overnight and I could not have been prouder.
I wondered if that was the difference. I wanted to be a mom, but I also loved my career. Nothing hurt more than not being able to have a child, but at the same time I couldn’t imagine giving up teaching.
I couldn’t imagine not going to work every day or making a paycheck.
Was that the difference? Was that why Fiona could get pregnant just by ovulating and I couldn’t manage to conceive once, no matter how many books I read or weird oils I rubbed on my stomach or how many times I tilted my hips in the right position and tracked my cycles like an obsessive maniac?
Halloween had been the first time Nick and I had spontaneous sex in over two years. We were slaves to the cycle… to the ovulation.
No wonder Halloween had been so hot.
“I’m sorry I got mad at you,” I said quietly.
Fi’s sly smile told me she had already forgiven me. “I’m sorry I was so bossy. I should know when to keep my mouth shut by now.”
I wrinkled my nose at her. “Babe, if you haven’t learned how to keep quiet by now, I doubt it’s ever going to happen.”
Her laughter stirred Jonah, who was sleeping against her chest. She stared down at him, rocking him gently to coax him back to sleep. “This will happen for you, Kate. I know it will.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. “I’m not sure it will.” She opened her mouth to protest, but I held up my hand to stop her. “I’m thirty, Fi. And I’m in the middle of a divorce. Who knows when or if I’ll ever meet another guy. And let me just be clear that I am not ready to jump into another relationship. My biological clock is ticking. No, not ticking. It’s on a countdown timer. One that’s attached to a bomb and hidden in the underground parking garage of a mall. The chances of diffusing that thing are slim to none.”
“So what you’re telling me is you need John McClane.”
“Or Jack Bauer.”
“Tom Cruise?” When I gave her a funny look, she clarified, “Mission Impossible Tom Cruise.”
I laughed, “Yes, that’s what I need. I need Mission Impossible Tom Cruise without the weird religion and couch jumping.”
“What does it say about you that you knew who John McClane was but didn’t get the Tom Cruise reference?”
“Nick loved the Die Hard movies.”
“So does Austin.”
“It used to be our Christmas movie. Not It’s a Wonderful Life or A Christmas Story. No, we watched Die Hard.”