Not My Daughter

Susan was actually relieved-but only briefly. The reality of being pregnant at seventeen was something she knew all too well.

Susan had become pregnant in high school herself. Richard McKay was the son of her parents' best friends. That summer, when he was fresh out of college with a journalism degree and a job offer for fall that he couldn't refuse, something sparked between them. Pure lust, her father decided. And the chemistry was certainly right. But Susan and Rick had spent too many hours that summer only talking for it to be just sex. They saw eye to eye on so many things, not the least being their desire to leave Oklahoma, that when Rick dutifully offered to marry Susan, she flat-out refused.

She never regretted her decision. To this day, she recalled the look of palpable relief on his face when she had firmly shaken her head. He had dreams; she admired them. Had there been times when she missed having him there? Sure. But she couldn't compete with the excitement of his career, and refused to tie him down.

His success reinforced her conviction. Starting out, he had been the assistant to the assistant producer of a national news show. Currently, he was the star, following stories to the ends of the earth as one of the show's leading commentators. He had never married, had never had other children. Only after he became the face in front of the camera rather than the one behind was he able to send money for Lily's support, but his check arrived every month now without fail. He never missed a birthday, and had been known to surprise Lily by showing up for a field hockey tournament. He kept in close touch with her by phone, a good, if physically absent, father.

Rick had always trusted Susan. Rather than micromanage from afar, he left the day-to-day parenting to her. Now, under her watchful gaze, Lily was pregnant.

Stunned, Susan listened quietly while Lily answered the doctor's questions. Yes, she wanted the baby, and yes, she understood what that meant. No, she hadn't discussed it with her mother, because she would do this on her own if she had to. No, she did not want the father involved. No, she did not drink. Yes, she knew not to eat swordfish.

She had questions of her own-like whether she would be able to finish out the field hockey season (yes), whether winter volleyball was possible (maybe), and whether she could take Tylenol for a headache (only as directed)-and she sounded so like the mature, responsible, intelligent child Susan had raised that, if Susan hadn't been numb, she might have laughed.

Silent still when they left the doctor's office, she handed Lily the keys to the car. 'I need to walk home.' Lily protested, but she insisted, 'You go on. I need the air.'

It was true, though she did little productive thinking as she walked through the November chill. No longer numb, she was boiling mad. She knew it was wrong-definitely not the way a mother should feel and everything she had resented in her own mother-but how to get a grip?

The cold air helped. She was a little calmer as she neared the house. Then she saw Lily. The girl was sitting on the front steps, a knitted scarf wound around her neck, her quilted jacket-very Perry & Cass-pulled tight round her. When Susan approached, she sat straighter and said in a timid voice, 'Don't be angry.'

But Susan was. Furious, she stuck her hands in her pockets.

'Please, Mom?'

Susan took a deep breath. She looked off, past neighborhood houses, all the way on down the street until the cordon of old maples seemed to merge. 'This isn't what I wanted for you,' she finally managed to say.

'But I love children. I was born to have children.'

Looking back, Susan pressed her aching heart. 'I couldn't agree with you more. My problem's with the timing. You're seventeen. You're a senior in high school-and expecting a baby at the end of May, right before exams? Do you have any idea what being nine months pregnant is like? How are you going to study?'

'I'll already have been accepted into college.'

'Well, that's another thing. How can you go to college? Dorm rooms don't have room for cribs.'

'I'm going to Percy State.'

'Oh, honey, you can do better.'

'You went there, and look where you are.'

'I had to go there. But times have changed. Getting a job is hard enough now, even with a degree from a top school.'

'Exactly. So it won't matter. Anything is doable, Mom. Haven't you taught me that?'

'Sure. I just never thought it would apply to a baby.'

Lily's eyes lit up. 'But there is a baby,' she cried, sounding so like a buoyant child that Susan could have wept. Lily didn't have a clue what being a mother entailed. Spending the summer as a mother's helper was a picnic compared to the day-in, day-out demands of motherhood.

'Oh, sweetheart,' she said and, suddenly exhausted, sank down on the steps. 'Forget doable. What about sensible? What about responsible? We've talked about birth control. You could have used it.'

'You're missing the point, Mom,' Lily said, moving close to hug Susan's arm. 'I want this baby. I know I can be a good mother-even better than the moms we worked for this summer, and I have the best role model in you. You always said being a mother was wonderful. You said you loved me from the start. You said I was the best thing that ever happened to you.'

Susan wasn't mollified. 'I also said that being a single mom was hard and that I never wanted you to have to struggle the way I did. So-So think beyond college. You say you want to be a biologist, but that means grad school. If you want a good research position-'

'I want a baby.'

'A baby isn't only for the summer, and it doesn't stay a baby for long. He or she walks and talks and becomes a real person. And what about the father then?'

'I told you. He doesn't know.'

'He has a right to.'

'Why? He had no say in this.'

'And that's fair, Lily?' Susan asked. 'What if the baby looks exactly like him? Don't you think people will talk?'

A hint of stubbornness crossed Lily's face. 'I don't care if people talk.'

'Maybe the father will. What if he comes up to you and asks why this child who was born nine months after the time you had sex has his hair and eyes? And what happens when your child wants to know about his father? You were asking by the time you were two. Some kids do still have daddies, y'know. So now it's your turn to be the mommy. What'll you say?'

Lily frowned. 'I'll go there when I have to. Mom, you're making this harder than it needs to be. Right now, the baby's father does not have to know.'

'But it's his baby, too,' Susan argued. Desperate for someone to blame, she sorted through the possibilities. 'Is it Evan?'

'I'm not telling who it is.'

Susan wondered if Lily was stonewalling for a reason. 'Was he the one who wanted the baby?'

Lily pulled her arm free. 'Mom,' she cried, hazel eyes flashing, 'listen to me! He doesn't know. We never talked about a baby. He thought I was on the pill. I did this. Me.'

Which, of course, was one of the things Susan found so hard to swallow. It was like a slap in the face, a repudiation of everything she had tried to teach her daughter.

Desperate to understand, she said, 'Are you sure it wasn't an accident? I mean, it's okay if it was. Accidents happen.' Lily shook her head. 'You just decided you wanted a baby.'

'I've always wanted a baby.'

'A sibling,' Susan said, because when she was little, Lily had begged for one.

'Now I'm old enough to have my own, and I know you might not have chosen to be pregnant seventeen years ago, but I did. It's my body, my life.'

Susan had raised Lily to be independent and strong, but cavalier? No. Especially not when there were realities to face. 'Who'll pay the medical bills?'

'We have insurance.'

'With premiums to which I contribute every month,' Susan pointed out, 'so the answer is me. I'll pay the