Page 12 of Unexpecting

″A baby baby. You know, goo-goo, gaa-gaa. A baby—remember, what I’ve always wanted?” Morgan and Brit were staring at me like I’d just announced the colour magenta was the new wedding white.

″You’re pregnant?” Brit gasped in horror.

″No. No! Not yet, anyway. I just want to have a baby. I’m thinking, now’s the time to just get with it and do it by myself.”

“Yourself?” Brit repeated. “You’ve always had this crazy idea you need to have a baby, but by yourself? You need a husband or at least a suitable, committed boyfriend for that, so he can marry you after you lose the babyweight.” She shook her head disdainfully, her blonde waves falling perfectly back into place. “Be serious, Casey.” She tapped a manicured nail against her martini glass. This week’s colour was plum, which matched her eye shadow quite well. The one time I went for a manicure with Brit, I almost lunged across the table at the girl when she tried to push down my cuticles. It wouldn’t hurt, she informed me rather prissily, if I had learned proper grooming techniques, especially for my nail beds. I never knew nails had a bed. Needless to say, I didn’t leave a tip.

″I don’t understand,” Morgan said dumbly. She kept adjusting her fake glasses like she wanted to take them off but was afraid of spoiling the look she was going for, the successful-woman-who-reads-Homer-in-the-original-Greek look. It was a stretch since the only Greek Morgan knows is opa! She looks better without the glasses. “Why would you want that? And who would the father be?”

″Well, that’s the issue here,” I confessed. “I think the only option I’m left with is to go with artificial insemination, but I’m still not too keen on that. I was wondering if either of you might have any ideas?”

″Don’t have a baby,” Brit told me bluntly, echoing J.B.’s words and tone exactly. It was probably the first time the two of them had ever agreed on anything, but I doubted either of them would find the humour in that. “Besides, I don’t think this is the best time for that. You are going to be pretty busy for the next couple of months, you know.”

″I am?” School was ending at the end of the month, and July and August were normally the most relaxing time for a teacher. I couldn’t remember planning anything that might keep me too busy for conceiving a child.

″My wedding!” Brit shrieked, loud enough for several tables to glance over at us. “How could you forget that?”

″I have no idea,” I told her sarcastically, which was lost on her. I saw Morgan lean back from the table, distancing herself from this conversation. Morgan and I might be closer these days, but Brit and I had more history than The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

″I don’t either,” Brit said staunchly. “I would think that might be forefront in your mind these days. Best friend getting married. Living lifelong dream.”

″Exactly. Which is why I thought you of all people might take an interest in this. Having a baby has been my lifelong dream, if you remember.”

“Yes, but it’s not fair to have a baby to compensate for the lack of a man in your life,” Brit lectures. “Get another cat if you’re lonely. A baby can’t compensate for lack of sex, you know.”

″I do know that,” I said with exasperation. “One has nothing to do with the other.”

″Well, they kind of do,” Morgan cut in, trying to lighten the mood. “Normally you have sex in order to have a baby, and from what I’ve heard, once you have a baby, you don’t get to have much sex.”

″I’m not trying to compensate for anything,” I said angrily to Brit, ignoring Morgan’s efforts. “That’s a mean thing to say. I’m perfectly happy without a man. I’m not lonely. How can you say that? I’m never lonely—I’m always busy and…”

″I’m not trying to be mean,” Brit said. But she couldn’t look me in the eye, and she took a tiny sip of her pomegranate martini. One thing about Brit—like it or not—is that she’s always honest. I don’t think she’s ever learned how to pull her punches. And while it’s helpful to have her around to tell me truthfully if my bum looks too big in a pair of pants, I’d rather do without any frank assessment of whether I am lonely or not.

Morgan cleared her throat. “Is this a sure thing?”

″Well, no, since I’m not pregnant. But I hope to be soon.”

″And this is how you want to do it? Are you sure?”

″Of course not!” Brit exclaimed before I could answer Morgan. “That’s just crazy, post-breakup, desperate talk. If she’s going to do this—which I have to repeat, is not a good idea—at least get a proper man for the job. Who knows what you’d end up with if you go to some clinic?″ The utter disdain in Brit’s voice made me smile. It was exactly the same tone of voice that she used when I once told her I bought a pair of sandals at Payless.

″I’m sure they screen the men properly. I doubt too many serial killers manage to get through,” I told her.

″Isn’t there anyone…?” Morgan continued. “Cooper, or your brother-in-law, or…?”

Brit gave an impatient sigh. “If you’re looking for the right man to get you pregnant, then obviously you should have Tom do it.”

I glanced at Morgan, who was wearing the same expression of amazement as I was, before I answered Brit. “Do you know exactly what you’re proposing?” I asked slowly. “You’re suggesting I have a baby with your husband-to-be?”

″Well, it wouldn’t be his baby,” Brit scorned.

″Uh—yes, it would!”

″It sort of would, Brit,” Morgan echoed.

″Oh.” Brit was silent for a moment. Caught up in her pride and smugness in landing such a fine specimen of a man, she obviously didn’t think this through. “I’m just saying that Tom would be the perfect choice if I were willing to allow him to father another woman’s baby. That’s all.”

″And if Tom were okay with the whole situation,” Morgan put in with a tiny smile.

---