Just an Ordinary Family

like bad boys, hot sex and excitement.”
“Yes, but that was before I wanted a baby.”
Libby’s mouth fell open and Jess clicked her tongue. “There’s no need to look quite so surprised.”
“You—you want a baby? Since when?”
Jess shrugged, already regretting her disclosure. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does. We don’t only share clothes and shoes, we share everything.”
Once they’d shared everything. “Remember how much Karen hated that?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
Sometimes a best friend knew a girl too well. “Okay, fine. I’ve been thinking about a baby for a year or so.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was going to as soon as I found the right guy who wanted me, the mortgage and the kid.” Jess threw a handful of peanuts into her mouth. “Problem is, he doesn’t exist.”
Libby’s head tilted in disagreement. “Maybe you’re not swimming in the right pool.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You only date alpha corporate suits.”
“Duh! They earn heaps, which makes them good providers.”
“Except, from what you’ve told me, they’re all about the next merger or the next big float. That was fine when you were committed to no-strings-attached flings. If you want the whole soccer-mom scenario, you’re better off dating a tradesman.”
“This from a woman whose rule was to only date college-educated men!” And Jess had followed suit. It had shocked her that the choice hadn’t completely protected her from the types of assholes her mother had paraded through her life.
“I was young and stupid when I said that,” Libby said easily. “Besides, I married a man who dropped out of university.”
Annoyance flashed. “Really? Is it dropping out if you leave to work in an established family business that’s at the top of its game? And Nick finished his degree part time and then did an MBA.”
Libby raised her hands in surrender. “Okay. All I’m saying is you need to think about dating men who work family-friendly hours instead of insanely long days. Better yet, date a teacher. They get school vacation.”
Jess’s hand trembled as she refilled her glass. “I’ve got a better idea.”
“Is it a mail-order Russian oligarch?” Libby laughed, amused by her joke.
“No.” Jess’s jaw tightened. She didn’t have a better idea, or any idea at all, but she’d had enough of Libby issuing dating instructions from the comfort of her marriage. Sometimes her friend’s “doctor knows best” attitude collided with her general good fortune in all things, and the result thoroughly pissed off Jess. This moment was one of those times.
“What then?” Libby asked.
Jess suddenly remembered a conversation she’d overheard earlier in the week in the office tea room. One of the office clerks had been going on and on about her IVF cycles and discussing her husband’s defective swimmers in great detail with anyone who was foolish enough to stop and listen.
“I don’t need a man to have a baby.”
“What?”
“I’ll use donor sperm.”
Libby’s mocktail squirted out of her nose. “Jess, no! You do not want to have a baby on your own.”
Jess bristled at the unwanted command and her annoyance with Libby moved closer to anger. “Why not? It’s the perfect solution. I won’t have to answer to a man and I can raise my child on my own. Heaps of women do it. My mother did.”
Libby’s eyes widened into two blue pools of sorrow. “And you’ve always said you’d never inflict the life of an only child onto a kid.”
Jess gulped champagne, needing to dull the emerging memories of her mother, but at the same time wanting to demand her place at the motherhood table. “Too easy! I’ll have two kids.”
“Oh, God, you’re drunker than I thought.” Libby leaned forward, her face earnest. “Jess, listen to me. The easiest part of my week is when I’m at the clinic being Dr. Hunter. The hardest part is arsenic hour, which is really two to three hours when I’m trying to feed, bath and get the girls into bed without stringing them up or slashing my wrists.”
White hot fury exploded behind Jess’s eyes and she slammed her empty glass onto the coffee table. “Don’t do that!”
Libby jerked back, surprise and hurt on her face. “Do what?”
“That exaggerating thing all mothers do. If the job’s so frickin’ hard and awful, why did you go back for a second let alone this third kid?”
“This one’s a total surprise. To be honest, I cried when I saw the two pink lines on the stick. I didn’t tell Nick for three days.”
“Why? Problems in paradise?” It came out harsher than she’d intended.
“No, but we’re already juggling two businesses and two kids under four. This time there’ll only be fifteen months between Indi and the baby.”
“So?”
“So, it’s going to be tough. I wish it had happened next year or the year after.”
“So, the timing’s not perfect, but jeez, Lib! You’re pregnant. I’d kill to have a baby.” Dejection slumped Jess back against the couch. “Why can’t I have that?”
Libby grabbed her hand. “I’m not saying you can’t. I’m just trying to explain that even with a hands-on partner like Nick, there are times when being a mom is the toughest job you’ll ever do. Your current job’s not exactly flexible and when kids are involved, everything’s a juggle. Being home alone with a baby can be long and lonely.
“When I had Lucy, some nights I stood in the yard waiting for Nick to walk through the gate so I could handball her to him the second he got home. Then I’d go for a walk to nowhere in particular just so I could be alone with my thoughts. I found it tough and I’ve got Nick, and Mom and Dad, as well as Nick’s parents. Thank God, because we’re really going to need them next year.”
And there it was again. Lucky Libby. Although her friend had stopped short of saying, “And you don’t have any family,” the words hovered between them.
Libby rushed on. “You’re barely thirty. You’ve still got time to meet someone and have a baby. What about Will Azzopardi? He adores you.”
Jess’s brows rose. “And living in Kurnai Bay.