Chapter 33 - maisie chose motherhood and immediately feared becoming someone else
Maisie was twenty-seven when she called Graham at 6:12 in the morning.
He answered on the second ring.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you calling at six?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Silence.
Maisie checked the screen.
“Dad?”
A sound came through.
Claire’s voice:
“Is everything okay?”
Then Graham:
“Maisie’s pregnant.”
Another silence.
Then Claire:
“Oh.”
Not disappointed.
Not ecstatic.
Careful.
Maisie laughed.
“You two are terrible at this.”
Graham recovered.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you happy?”
Maisie looked toward Daniel.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed holding the positive test like it was evidence in a murder case.
“Yes.”
“Then I’m happy.”
Graham’s voice broke.
He was crying.
Obviously.
Maisie rolled her eyes while crying too.
Then Graham made his first mistake.
“You should come home for the first trimester.”
“No.”
“I only mean—”
“No.”
“Maisie—”
“Dad.”
Claire’s voice came from the background.
“Graham.”
He stopped.
Good.
Ten minutes into becoming a grandfather and already overperforming.
After the call, Maisie sat beside Daniel.
“I’m terrified.”
“Same.”
“No, differently.”
“Probably.”
“What if I resent it?”
“The baby?”
“Yes.”
Daniel thought.
“You probably will sometimes.”
Maisie looked offended.
“You’re supposed to reassure me.”
“You hate dishonest reassurance.”
Correct.
“What if I want my old life?”
“You probably will sometimes.”
“What if I think the baby is too sensitive?”
“Then I remind you children are allowed to be inconvenient.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Then we ask someone qualified.”
“What if they’re wrong?”
“Then we get another opinion.”
Maisie stared.
“You have an answer for everything.”
“No.”
Daniel touched her hand.
“I have process.”
That mattered more.
The pregnancy remained quiet for twelve weeks.
No social media announcement.
No elaborate reveal.
Ava found out early because Graham was physically incapable of acting normal.
She was thirteen.
Her reaction surprised everyone.
“Does this mean I’m old?”
Graham stared.
“What?”
“I’m going to be an aunt.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds old.”
Maisie laughed.
Then Ava became serious.
“Are you keeping it?”
The room went still.
Maisie answered.
“Yes.”
“You want it?”
“Yes.”
Ava nodded.
“Okay.”
Then:
“Can I be mad?”
Maisie stopped breathing.
Familiar sentence.
Almost exact.
She remembered being sixteen.
Claire pregnant.
Her own fear that Ava’s existence would reduce her.
Now Ava stood in front of Maisie, thirteen, asking permission for a feeling.
“Why would you be mad?”
Ava shrugged.
“You’ll have your own baby.”
“You already live far away.”
“Dad is going to become insane.”
Graham objected.
Everyone ignored him.
“And maybe you won’t need me.”
Maisie’s throat closed.
There it was.
Family addition still created subtraction fears.
Even in children who had never met Sloane.
Maisie sat beside Ava.
“You can be mad.”
Ava looked surprised.
“You can hate the idea.”
“Seriously?”
“Feelings aren’t crimes.”
Claire smiled from across the room.
Maisie caught it.
Old language.
Still useful.
Then Maisie added:
“But if this baby arrives, you don’t get to throw it out a window.”
Ava laughed.
“Fine.”
“Strong commitment.”
The pregnancy did not heal Maisie.
It did not prove she had become different from Sloane.
It simply created new decisions.
And each decision would have to be made when it arrived.
Not six months early in a restructuring binder.
Not secretly.
May you like
Not around the imagined comfort of adults.
One at a time.
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