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When are you due?

The baby is healthy, right?

Very important to her, of course.

“Everything looks perfect.”

What about the father? Will

he want to be involved?

That’s a good one. “I don’t think

so. In fact, I’m sure he won’t.”

Can we help out financially?

Could I be in the delivery room?

This is starting to feel very intimate.

How close will we become?

Now, the Ones

I don’t have answers to yet.

How often do you want to see her?

What if the father changes his mind?

How much do you want her to know about you?

And the biggest one of all.

Are you positive this is the right decision?

All I can say is, “I’ve struggled

with this for months. This is the surest

I’ve felt about anything. We can decide

the details as we go along.” Now she asks,

Do you have any questions for me?

I know a lot about her already.

Big house. Nice car. Her husband

has money. But is that enough?

“How is your marriage? Solid?”

She Prefaces Her Answer

With an audible sigh. Then says,

You know we lost Shelby after

a long illness. It’s hard to stay

close when each day brings

so much sadness. But the reality

is, Christian and I are tighter

now than we have been in years.

He asked his company to lighten

up on the travel and he just got a big

promotion that will keep him in Reno

most of the time. His income provides

nicely for all of us, so I don’t have

to work. The baby will have a stable

home, I promise you that. Plus, Shane

will be a wonderful older brother.

That’s a lot more than I can promise.

More than most people can.

She needs to talk to her husband.

I need to talk to Dad. We set up

a meeting for next week. And I call Ty.

Tyler

The Setup

She describes sounds

perfect. Maybe too perfect.

I

want to support her decision,

but the idea of a guilt-free giveaway

seems like pie in the sky. You

don’t

carry a baby for nine months

without a lot of bonding going on.

I could nod and go along, except I

care

about her way too much to see

her hurt again. Or maybe

my reaction is totally selfish.

What

if I encourage this move and it

goes badly? Would she ever blame

me? I’m not usually one of those

people

who looks for the downside. So

maybe the best thing I can do

is stay positive and try not to over-

think.

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Staying Positive

There’s Also the Not Small Issue

Of the semester ending in a couple

of weeks. With it goes Alex, who will

graduate near the top of his class.

He spent last week visiting

Catholic colleges in California,

all of which would be happy to have him.

Loyola Marymount. Santa Clara U.

Thomas Aquinas. University of San

Francisco. San Diego U. His parents

would have preferred an East Coast

school. He insisted on staying out

west. For me, he says. But even

though California isn’t all that far

away, it might as well be a thousand

miles from here. How often can I see

him? A few times a year? Our age

difference isn’t big. I never really

thought about how much it meant

when it was just about having fun

over the summer. If I hadn’t fallen

in love with him, it wouldn’t matter

the slightest bit. But he has become

an integral part of me. Who am I

if I lose him? How can I go back

to being the Shane I was before

I met him? That’s who I’d be. I’ve got

the rest of this year, plus my senior

year here. That’s a lot of time apart.

And, while I’ll be stuck hanging out

with Reno losers, he’ll be meeting

interesting people from all across

the country. What chance does our

relationship have of surviving that?

As If That Isn’t Enough

Mom has gone totally apeshit

delirious over the idea of another

baby. First, all these tests to see if

she could carry some Frankenstein

test tube creation to term. I breathed

a huge sigh of relief when the doctors

told her no, and I’m pretty sure Dad

did, too. He and Mom are struggling

to put their lives back together.

I’m enough of a distraction. A baby?

How about a job, Mom, or volunteer

work? Something that doesn’t require

stealing every ounce of your energy

away from your family? She might

even have gone there, except along

comes the perfect solution. For Mom.

For Mikayla and her family. Maybe

even for the baby. But what about

Dad? What about me? We’ve lived

with a hollowed-out you for five years.

This Evening, Mom Is Hosting Tea

For the prospective (over)extended

family. She cleaned—and spot-cleaned—

for days. Vacuumed and revacuumed

carpets and furniture.
Will you please

keep that cat in your room? I can’t

get rid of all these little white hairs.

Washed windows to let sunlight

spill into even the darkest corners.

Set the table with Grandma’s fine

china. Including Thanksgiving, it’s only

the second time it has been used in

six or seven years. I’m pretty sure

the everyday stuff would do. Right

now, she’s showing them Shelby’s

room. Which, if everything goes as

expected, will soon be the nursery.

I’ve tried to keep out of it completely.

So I’m more than a little irritated

when Mom calls,
Shane! Will you please

come here and meet the Carlisles?

Have I suddenly become a criterion?

Must I put my best foot forward?

Considering I haven’t showered

in a couple of days, I hope not.

I also hope she doesn’t expect me

to drink tea. Still, no use upsetting her.

Well, maybe just a little. I pick up Gaga,

cradle her in the V of my elbow, go to

play the dutiful son. They are gathered

at the table. Each sits stiffly behind a cup