The Shadow Wife

“It’s good and bad news,” Joelle said, “as you can probably guess.”

“How far along are you?” her father asked.

“Eighteen weeks,” she said. “Almost nineteen.”

“Wow,” said her mother. “You’re barely showing.”

“I haven’t emphasized it,” Joelle said. “I’ve tried to wear loose, nonmaternity clothes, but it will be impossible to hide soon. And, anyway, now everybody knows.”

“You poor thing,” said her mother. “You had to have your appendix out while you were pregnant!”

“Well, fortunately, everything turned out okay,” she said.

“Who’s the father?” her dad asked.

“That doesn’t matter,” her mother said quickly. “What matters is that you’re going to have a baby. Something you’ve wanted for so long. Something you thought was impossible.”

She imagined her mother was thinking the same thing as her colleagues—that she had gotten herself artificially inseminated or perhaps had found an egg donor. Something out of the ordinary, since everyone knew the struggle she and Rusty had had trying to conceive.

“I want you both to know the truth,” she said, longing to tell them. “But please keep this to yourselves.” Who would they tell, anyhow?

“Of course,” said her mother.

“Liam is the baby’s father.”

“Liam!” Her mother leaned back in the chair, surprise clear on her face. “I thought you and Liam were just friends.”

“We are.” She sighed and shook her head. “We spent so much time together when Mara got sick. And we became very close. One night…we made love. Just that one time, but…” She nodded toward her stomach. “That appears to have been enough.”

“Why does it have to be a secret?” her father asked.

Her mother turned to him. “Because Liam is married to Mara,” she explained as though he were senile. “He’s so committed to Mara. I’m actually surprised he would…” Her mother didn’t finish her sentence, but Joelle knew where she had been heading.

“But not surprised that I would?” she asked, then was instantly annoyed with herself. Her mother had meant nothing by her comment, and Joelle knew it. It was simply the truth. Anyone would be surprised that Liam had made love to another woman.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” her mother said.

“I know. It’s just…it’s a mess, Mom. We didn’t use birth control because neither of us figured I could get pregnant. And you’re right. Liam is completely and utterly committed to Mara.”

“Well, so are you,” her father said, rushing to her defense.

“What does Liam have to say about all this?” her mother asked.

Not much, she thought, feeling the unwelcome anger that had been teasing her lately. “He didn’t know until the appendectomy, when word finally got around that I was pregnant,” she said. “I was never going to tell him.” She smiled at them. “Actually, I was thinking of leaving here. Moving to Berkeley to be near you two, or to San Diego to be near another friend, where I could start a new life. Then no one here would have to know.”

Both of her parents stared at her in silence. “To spare Liam from having to deal with the whole thing,” her mother said. It was a statement rather than a question, and Joelle nodded.

“He’s so screwed up, Mom,” she said.

Her father shook his head. “You’ve always wanted to save everybody, Shanti,” he said. “Even when you were a kid, you’d take the blame for things the other kids did. Do you remember that?”

“Only once,” Joelle said, remembering the time she’d claimed she’d set fire to a flowering shrub near the cabin that served as the schoolhouse. She knew the parents of the boy who had actually set the fire would punish him far more severely than her parents would punish her.

“I can think of at least three or four times,” her father said.

“Are you still planning to move?” her mother asked.

Joelle shook her head. “No. There’s not much point to it now that the cat’s out of the bag. Liam and I are going to have to figure out how to handle this without creating more of a mess than we already have.” So far, though, Liam had shown little evidence that he planned to join her in that task.

While she was in the hospital, Liam had been careful to give her the attention befitting a friend with whom he’d worked for many years and about whom he cared a great deal, and nothing more than that. Paul treated her similarly. She doubted anyone’s suspicions had been raised. She wondered if, now that she was home, she would hear from Liam or if he would continue his policy of no longer calling her at night. Perhaps that would be wise. They would inevitably grow closer with each call, as they had before. She would love to have those calls again—she needed more support from him than she was getting—but that much contact could only lead them down the same slippery slope. “What do you want, honey?” Her mother touched her arm again. “What do you wish would happen?” There was such love in her mother’s eyes that Joelle had to look away from her.

She bit her lip. “I want what I can’t have,” she said, her voice breaking, and she began to cry.

“She’s tired,” her father said, talking about her as if she were not sitting just three feet from him.

“Dad’s right, hon.” Her mother leaned forward to stroke her hair. “How about a nap?”

Joelle nodded, letting her mother help her to her feet. She was tired. She reminded