Page 117 of Growing Into Love

I can’t believe I’m saying this in front of the woman who is hugely pregnant with the baby in question but it’s easier admitting my fear to Theresa after she’s admitted hers to me.

Theresa starts to chuckle. Then the chuckles turn to laughs, big long laughs and suddenly she’s wiping tears from her eyes again and holding her stomach.

“Umm,” I say, wondering if this is some sort of pregnancy-related hysteria. “Are you okay?”

“Cass,” she says. “You feel feelings more deeply than any person I know. They explode out of you. I’m sure they’re just hiding somewhere in that annoyingly fit body of yours waiting to blast through at the right moment. I don’t think you need to be worried.”

“Annoyingly fit?” I say bemused.

Theresa sighs. “Look at me,” she says. “I’m gigantic.”

“You’re pregnant,” I say. “That’s sort of the deal.”

She shifts on the bed. “I feel I’ve got so many things to worry about. I don’t know what a healthy childhood is meant to look like.”

“But you won’t be doing it alone.” I point to myself. “Support system, remember?”

Theresa’s face softens. “You’ve been such a help, Cass. Truly. You’re the most dependable person I’ve ever met. Even more dependable than Jaz. The horses at your sanctuary are the luckiest animals alive.”

“It’s not a real sanctuary yet,” I say, with a shrug, trying to keep the sadness out of my voice. Then I bolt upright. “Oh shit!” I take out my phone. “Shit, shit, shit…”

I frantically text the groom, apologizing for missing the meeting and promising to reschedule.

“What’s wrong?” Theresa asks.

“I was meant to interview a groom today,” I say. “It’s fine. I’ll reschedule.”

Theresa puts her hand on mine. “Cass,” she says firmly. “It’s not fine. You need support too. We’re all in this together, which means we all need to be there for each other. This sanctuary is important. I’ve got an idea.” She gets an excited look on her face that I usually see right before she pulls out a spreadsheet. “I found this app yesterday. It’s called FamilyTime. If we all download it, we can keep our information in one place. It has secure messaging, a custody calendar, and a log for tracking parenting expenses. There’s also an info bank where we can keep the baby’s medical history and emergency contacts and such. And…” Theresa swipes through something and holds up her phone with a flourish. “There’s a shared personal calendar. What are the times you’ll absolutely need to devote to the sanctuary?”

“Oh, er,” I stammer. “That’s okay, Theresa. It’s really no bother.”

“It really is and I’m really going to just guess if you don’t tell me.”

“Mornings are best,” I say quickly. “It would be great to devote weekdays from seven to noon. I can get a groom for the afternoons and Richard doesn’t mind helping with the evening feeds if I need him. But if that’s too much, I under—”

Theresa is already tapping away at her phone. “Cass…weekdays seven to noon,” she mutters. “There. You’re in green.” She shows me the calendar again. In every weekday there’s a little green square that says: Cass at sanctuary. “Done. No one will bother you during those hours.”

A sense of relief floods through me, along with a surge of gratitude.

“Thank you,” I say, my throat tight. “Really. This means a lot.”

Theresa smiles and puts her phone away. “Thankyou.” Her face falls. “Sometimes I feel I don’t deserve to be this lucky. I hurt Jaz so many times and yet here he is. I hurt Craig too. I don’t know why I do it.” She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with determination. “I don’t want to be that person anymore. My therapist says I have avoidant attachment issues because of my mum. She says I handle conflict by running away. But I can’t run away from this.” She rubs her stomach again.

“No,” I say softly. “You can’t.”

She takes my hand. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

I squeeze it. “And just so you know,” I say. “If you faint again, you call me. Emergencies are the exception to the seven-to-noon rule.”

“Deal,” Theresa says.

At that moment, a nurse comes in. “I’m going to do a quick ultrasound,” she says. “Then you’re free to go.”

She lifts Theresa’s top and squirts some goo on her belly. There’s awooomp wooompsound as the wand whirs over her skin. I’ve seen an ultrasound image of Baby from a couple months ago but that was nothing like this. The little creature on the screen is starting to look like a person. I can see a head. It’s confounding.

“Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” the nurse asks.

“Yes!” Theresa and I cry together.

---