‘It’s hard not to,’ he said, sounding upset. ‘I was way on the other side of the school when you got sick, but by the time I got out of English, kids were talking about it. They know we’re good friends, so they asked me. I didn’t know what to say.’
‘Just say you don’t know. That’s the truth, isn’t it?’
He didn’t reply at first. Then he said, ‘How are you feeling?’
Back on the bed again, Lily stared at the closed blind. She’d been just fine until he called. Remembering the scene at school, she felt sick again.
But everyone would be asking her this. She had to get used to it. ‘I’m really good. Happy. It’s incredible, creating a life.’ She put a hand on her belly, jiggled it a little to wake the baby up and let her know she was being talked about.
‘When are you due?’
‘Late May. The timing’s perfect,’ she rushed on. ‘I’ll finish exams, have my baby, do the mom thing over the summer, and be ready to start college in the fall.’ Mary Kate and Jess were a little behind her and would have less time to recover before classes resumed.
‘How can you do college? Who’ll take care of the baby?’
‘I’ll put her in PC KidsCare.’
‘Her? You know the sex already?’
Lily laughed. ‘No. It’s too soon. I’m just guessing it’s a girl.’ Like she was guessing that Mary Kate and Jess would have girls, too. She wanted her daughter to be best friends with theirs, a third generation of best friends. ‘Right now, my baby has hands and feet. And ears. Doesn’t that blow your mind?’
But he was still focusing on the future. ‘Isn’t PC KidsCare only for PC employees?’
‘I knit samples for PC Wool trunk shows, so technically I am one. Besides, I have an in. Mrs Perry will make it happen.’ If Lily ever spoke with Pam’s daughter Abby again, which, at that moment, was questionable.
‘I still think it’s me,’ Robbie said.
‘That’s because you’re sweet.’
‘Lily, I have a right to know if it’s me.’
‘So you can drop out of school to support the baby? You’re not going to do that, Robbie. Besides, I told you. It isn’t you.’
‘Why do I not believe you?’
‘Maybe,’ she tried, ‘because it’s macho to think you’ve fathered a baby.’ Macho wasn’t a word that she would have used to describe Robbie – but it wasn’t totally wrong, she realized. He had grown in the last year and had to be sixtwo now. Granted, he was still the lightest guy on the wrestling squad, but what he lacked in muscle, he made up for in determination. He definitely knew the moves.
‘Forget macho,’ he said. ‘It’s pure math. If you’re due at the end of May, you conceived at the end of August, and that’s when we did it.’
‘I won’t tell you again,’ she said quietly.
‘Then whose is it?’ he asked. When she said nothing, he pleaded, ‘Tell me something, Lily. If you think my questions are hard, just wait till tomorrow. Whether or not I’m the father, I’m a friend. Let me help.’
Lily’s eyes filled with tears. The books said she would be emotional. And Robbie was a friend. And she was dreading going to school.
But if he helped, people would think he was the father, and she didn’t want that. This was her doing alone.
Well, not exactly alone. Mary Kate, Jess and Abby were in on it, too. But no one knew yet about Mary Kate and Jess, and Abby was sore because she was way behind.
What to tell Robbie? She needed time to think.
‘If I told anyone,’ she finally said, ‘I’d tell you. Next to Mary Kate and Jess, you’re my oldest friend.’ Since they were six. It was poetic.
No, she had no regrets about Robbie. Abby, yes. But not Robbie. He was loyal. If she did need help, he would be there.
That thought brought little comfort as she dressed for school the next morning. Mary Kate and Jess would help out if questions got bad, but she felt best when she thought of her mom. Susan had done it, and look at her. She was educated. She was successful. And she had Lily to show for it.
Standing at the mirror, dressed in slim-as-ever jeans, Lily touched the place where she guessed her baby to be and whispered, ‘You’re mine, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you. Let people talk. We don’t care. We have something special, you and me. And we have my mom and my dad. They’re gonna love you to bits. Trust me on that.’
At school, there were few questions, just stares.
Her mother wasn’t so lucky.
Susan was on the phone with a headhunter, who she hoped would locate a replacement for the retiring director of athletics, when Pam showed up at the door and, none too softly, said, ‘What did I just hear?’
Finger to her lips, Susan waved her in. ‘Yes, Tom. Male or female. Our current AD coaches football, but that isn’t a prerequisite. My priorities are administrative experience and the ability to work well with kids.’
‘Susan,’ Pam whispered urgently as she closed the door, ‘what did I hear?’
Susan gestured her to a chair and held up a hand for the minute it took to finish the call.
Pam didn’t wait a second longer. The phone was barely in its cradle when she said, ‘Word’s going around that Lily’s pregnant. I’ve had three calls this morning – three moms asking me the same thing – and I couldn’t answer, even though I’m your friend, which was one of the reasons they were calling me. I couldn’t even call Abby, because you don’t allow kids to use phones during school. Is it true?’
Pam was a Perry by marriage and, as such, a member of the town’s royalty, but she didn’t often pull rank. Susan wasn’t sure what she heard in Pam’s voice – whether it was arrogance, indignation or hurt – but she felt a quick anger. There would have been no calls, no questions, had it not been for Pam’s own daughter.
But Lily would still be pregnant. Resigned, Susan nodded.
‘How?’ Pam asked in dismay. It was a silly question. Susan’s expression must have said as much, because her friend hurried on. ‘Who?’
Susan shrugged and shook her head.
Pam was sitting on the edge of the seat, her cardigan open, a paisley scarf knotted artfully about her neck. ‘You have to know. You’re just not saying.’
‘Pam, I don’t know.’
‘That’s impossible. You and Lily are as close as any mother and daughter I know. She must have told you she was sleeping with someone.’ When Susan shook her head again, Pam said, ‘How could you not?’
Susan was duly chastised. She had prided herself on being one better than the parent who didn’t notice her Vicodin running low long before it should. It was a humbling experience.
‘There comes a point,’ she said in her own defense, ‘when our children choose not to share some things.’
‘Some things. This is major. When did you find out?’
Unable to lie, Susan said, ‘Last week.’ It felt like years ago. She kept flashing back to Lily’s conception. Even this morning, reliving her