“Thanks for coming, ladies,” Eliza said. “Let’s start by—”
“I’m pregnant,” Penny blurted. “Anne was right. I am pregnant.”
As silence swayed over the room like a dandelion gone to seed, drifting into oblivion piece by fluffy piece, Eliza’s throat went dry. The meaning of Penny’s words took some time to register, as if the connections between her brain synapses had slowed to a crawl. Once Eliza digested the information, it took her a moment longer to realize the implication of it.
She expected to feel horror. Dread. A sense of betrayal that cut beyond anything she’d ever felt. But as Eliza waited, took another sip of her wine, none of it set in. At best, she could muster a mild tingling in her extremities. Apparently her heart and head had already gone completely numb, leaving only her fingers and toes to react to the news.
“Congratulations!” Anne finally offered with a confused look at Eliza. “When are you due?”
“I—I haven’t even been to the doctor to confirm it’s real.” Penny sank back against the couch cushions. She stared at a pair of knobby knees. “I just took the test this morning, which is why it’s on my mind. I’m sorry to have blurted it out.”
“That’s what book club is for,” Anne said. “To discuss. So long as we leave my problems off the table. Is this good news?”
Penny heaved a breath. “It’s a surprise. I don’t know how far along I am. I didn’t suspect until…well, today.”
“Plenty of people don’t know they’re pregnant early on,” Anne said. “I wasn’t expecting to get pregnant with my twins, and I didn’t find out until I was eight weeks. And I’d been through two children prior and should have known the signs. I just thought I’d eaten too many cookies.”
Penny raised one slim shoulder and let it fall as if that were the most excitement she could muster. “I feel awful.”
“Why?” Anne asked.
Eliza was all but paralyzed on her stupid, overpriced sofa.
“This poor little human…” Mystified, Penny slid her hand over her stomach, looking shocked that life existed inside her. “He or she deserves to be loved. And I do love him or her! I mean, I think I do. But when I found out, I cried.”
Eliza forced herself to make a sound. It came out like a grunt. “That’s understandable. It’s a life-changing event.”
“Not tears of happiness,” Penny clarified. “I was devastated. I didn’t want to be pregnant.”
Anne reached forward, the gaunt, anemic glow to her skin brightening to a healthier shade of peach. The awkwardness between the two women evaporated like a droplet of water sizzling on a scorching pan. Anne obviously understood what Penny was going through, while Eliza felt lost.
“It’s very normal to have conflicting emotions.” Anne’s face was devoid of judgment. “Trust me.”
“But you have a husband, I imagine,” Penny said, not meeting Anne’s eyes. “A house, stable finances, friends.”
“Yes,” Anne said softly, “but I promise you, my life is not perfect. It is okay to feel whatever it is that you’re feeling. It’s probably a mix, and that’s natural.”
“This baby should be celebrated.” Penny looked hopefully at Anne as if wanting her to confirm or deny. “It’s an innocent little person and deserves love.”
“Bonding isn’t always natural or easy,” Anne said. “Even when the baby arrives. The love we have for our children grows with time. And even then, even with time…things happen.”
“But—” Penny cut herself off with a sip of her water. “I always wanted to be a mom. It just wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
“As women, we find it shameful to admit the truth about motherhood—that it’s hard and confusing. Not every moment is a joyous occasion. Pregnancy isn’t necessarily a glowing, wonderful time in our lives. I was not a glowing, happy pregnant woman.” Anne gave a cough, then a laugh. “I had acne, my feet went up two sizes, and my stretch marks still haven’t faded.”
“But you wanted your children.”
“I’ve been through three pregnancies and had three entirely different experiences. With the twins, I have to admit—” Anne stopped abruptly, blinked her eyes furiously. “I’ve never told anyone this before.”
“I understand,” Penny whispered. “But if you don’t want to say it, that’s okay.”
“When I took that test, love was not the first emotion I felt. Let’s put it that way.” Anne considered, but then something in her face changed when she glanced at Penny. “If the doctor had told me I’d had a miscarriage early on, a part of me would have felt…”
“Relieved?” Penny suggested in a tiny voice.
Anne swallowed. Eliza could see the lump in her throat, so obviously painful.
“I thought the same thing,” Penny said. “At this point in my life, a baby will make everything so complicated. But I could never…”
“You don’t have to explain,” Anne said, her face paling once more. “I know. You’re not alone. I have to believe we’re not alone. My husband and I hadn’t planned to have any more children. We thought we were done. Then, I found out I was pregnant—not with one but with two babies.”
“I can’t imagine.”
“I couldn’t, either. I couldn’t fathom bringing one more life into this world, let alone a second. Two more mouths to feed, two more college tuitions, two more little people to fit into my heart. My heart was already full. How could I possibly find enough love for everyone?”
“And?” Penny held her breath.
“And I guarantee you’ll be a better mother than me.” Anne gave a weak smile. “I left my family, Penny. Samuel was barely one year old when I left him alone.”
Penny just blinked. Eliza knew the story, but she was surprised Anne was sharing it so readily. Maybe Anne and Penny were better friends than Anne had let on. Eliza wondered if that was purposeful on Anne’s part or a simple fact she’d forgotten to mention.
“I walked out my front door and didn’t come back,” Anne said. “They found me in Palm Springs at a motel. Just sitting outside, sipping a margarita by the pool. Not rejoicing, mind you. Just sitting. Staring. Devastated. How could I go back after what I’d done? I knew it was wrong. But I didn’t know how to fix it.”
Penny inhaled sharply. “But you came back?”
“I left in the first place because the voices in my head were telling me I was a bad mother,” Anne said. “I never felt good enough. I didn’t feel bonded with my baby. I missed picture day at Gretchen’s school. I stopped breastfeeding Sammy at three weeks because it fucking hurt. Everything felt wrong. I thought that my leaving would be the best thing for my kids.”
“I’m so sorry,” Penny said. “That sounds awful to go through. How did you…”
“Get better?” Anne scoffed. “Mark thought rehab would fix me. It didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because that wasn’t the problem,” Anne said. “Sure, I did drink to cope from time to time, but I was never a true alcoholic. I could have stopped, and I did. I checked myself into rehab, but that was to make Mark happy—not me. Once I figured that out, I left. Alcohol wasn’t the root of my problem.”