The Friendship List(72)

“But this is different.” He turned to her. “How come you never said anything bad about him? He got you pregnant, then left. He was my age. I’d never do that.”

“Everyone’s different. I don’t think his parents were happy about what had happened. For all I know, it was their idea.”

“You wouldn’t want me to walk away from the girl or the baby.”

She debated how to answer, then went for humor. She poked him in the chest and said, “Then wear a condom, young man. Your penis should never be naked around a girl, even if you are.”

“Mo-om.” He looked around, then lowered his voice. “Don’t say penis. We’re in public.”

“Are you wearing a condom?”

He flushed. “I’m not doing that with anyone.”

“You were last year.”

“I had a girlfriend. And I wore a condom. Can we please stop talking about it?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “Don’t be mad at your dad on my behalf, Coop. You should get to know him. If you don’t like who he is, then be mad at him.”

“Why are you so nice about him?”

“Because he’s your father. While I don’t like that he disappeared on me, I like how you and I turned out. I can’t miss having Jeremy around because he never was. I’m sorry for what you went through, wanting to know him, but other than that, I don’t think about him.”

“He should have paid child support.”

“That would have been nice, but the deal we signed absolved him of that.” Jeremy had given up his rights and she’d given up the promise of child support.

“You wouldn’t be mad if I spent time with him?”

Finally, she thought, grateful he’d gotten around to talking about the situation. “No. I’d miss you, but then I’d have a party every night.”

He didn’t laugh at that. When she glanced at him, she found him studying her. “You’re different, Mom. Not just the clothes, but something else.”

She felt herself flushing and quickly turned back to the otters. “You’re just saying that because I got a tattoo,” she said, hoping to change the subject. Because she had a feeling the difference wasn’t the tattoo but was instead the delicious nights with Keith.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he admitted.

“Me, either, but it’s pretty cool.” She drew her eyebrows together. “Not that I want you getting one.”

He grinned. “Too late. I’m already thinking about it.” His smile faded. “I want to spend some time with Dad this summer. Fly down to see him and stay with him. You okay with that?”

No, she wasn’t. She hated the thought of him with his father. She was still terrified Jeremy would be more interesting and exciting and tempt him with a fancy car and the promise of meeting movie stars. What if he went away and never came back?

But she couldn’t say any of that. Whatever she was feeling, she had to think of the greater good. It was the sucky part of parenting, but no less important than all the others.

“I’ll miss you,” she admitted, “But if you want to get to know him, this is a really good time.”

“Thanks, Mom. We’ve been talking about dates. We’ll pick them when we get home, okay?”

She nodded rather than saying anything. She didn’t want him to hear the sadness in her voice or figure out how scared she was. Her baby boy was all grown up. She’d done the best she could to raise him. Now she had to hope she didn’t end up losing him forever.

  “Unity, could you stay after a few minutes?” Carmen asked.

Unity had already started out of the community center meeting room, wanting to get back to work. She’d almost skipped grief group but had decided to attend at the last second. She was even more sad than she had been. No, not sad. Uneasy. She couldn’t get comfortable in her own skin.

She’d been unable to forget what she and Dagmar had talked about and she’d been unable to stop thinking about what it would be like to have a baby. She and Stuart had always talked about having a family, but somehow that had seemed more in theory than real. But the child she’d seen in her arms, the child she’d felt, seemed to already be alive.

She nodded at Carmen, then sat. Nothing the group facilitator had to say would be good news, she thought grimly.

As if to prove her point, Carmen began with a rueful smile followed by, “This is so difficult.”

Carmen held out a piece of paper with three names and phone numbers on it. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your situation, Unity, and I believe the grief group isn’t helping you. The average stay for our members is eight months. You’ve been coming here nearly three years.”

She continued to hold out the paper until Unity took it.

“Any one of these counselors would be able to give you the one-on-one support you need to figure out how to heal. Regardless of who you pick, you’ll be in good hands.”

Unity stared at the neat printing, then looked at Carmen. “Are you throwing me out of grief group?”

“I think it’s time you tried something else.”

Unity nodded because there was nothing to say. She could beg to be kept around only Carmen wasn’t wrong. Still, there was no denying the rejection hurt.