In the busy living room of her grandmother’s house, Samantha Fisher sits on the sofa, with her baby cousin on her lap, cooing as he reaches continually for strands of her hair.
“Here, kid. Maybe try this,” Tempest Banks says. She holds out a stuffed rabbit, which captures Peter’s attention for about four seconds before he hurls it onto the floor and refocuses on Samantha.
“Not a fan of rabbits, I see.” Samantha stoops over to pick up the toy.
“Yeah, but he’s really happy,” Tempest says. As if on cue, Peter swivels his head toward her and giggles. “You know, when they’re like this, it’s hard to think about how much they cry and scream and stuff."
“I guess you just get used to it."
“Maybe. Yeah."
The young women watch Peter for a long moment as he flails his arms excitedly, for no ostensible reason. The rest of the dinner party swirls around them, family and friends chattering in the living and dining rooms as the appetizing scents of their upcoming meal waft out of the kitchen.
“Is this weird for you?” Samantha asks delicately.
Tempest turns. “Weird? Why?"
“Because of the baby. And your mom."
The staid reaction that passes over Tempest’s face makes it clear that her mind has already been on the same track of thoughts. “I don’t know. Kinda. It doesn’t really seem like I’m about to have a new brother or sister. I guess I won’t, really."
“You will. You’ll always be… connected. I know that sounds corny."
“Nah. I know what you mean.” Tempest plays with Peter’s tiny fingers as she thinks. “And this is the only right way for my mom to play this. Let that kid go have a normal life with good parents."
“At least it seems like she understands how badly she messed up with you and your brother,” Samantha says.
“Yeah. Lucky for this kid."
“Do you think you’ll keep in touch with her? Your mom, I mean?"
Tempest’s head is shaking side to side before she even begins to form words. “Don’t think so. We don’t have anything else to say to each other right now. Maybe she’ll get her life together. And who knows down the road? But right now? Nah."
“As long as you feel good about however it ends up,” Samantha says.
“I do. I really think this is gonna be good for everybody."
-----
A broken streetlight towers over the open spot beside the curb. Alex Marshall carefully angles his car into the space and kills the engine.
“That’s it,” Diane Bishop says from the passenger seat, as she points out a window toward a house with beaten, beige vinyl siding.
They step out of the car, and Alex locks it. The neighborhood, a pocket of residential buildings tucked behind a more industrial area on King’s Bay’s north side, is almost eerily quiet -- save for the faint but still discernible sound of bass-heavy music playing from a parked car down the road.
“I still can’t believe I’m doing this,” Alex says as they cross the street.
“It’s just due diligence. If you and Yvette hit it off, great. If not, then that’s your answer."
“But if we do… what about Trevor?"
“Then you find a way to talk to him. Like I said, this isn’t a commitment. Yvette knows that, too. It’s like a first date. You don’t have to get married just because you eat some overpriced salmon."
Alex lets out a soft chuckle as they approach the house.
“She said to go to the side door,” Diane says, and after a few seconds of studying the house’s exterior, they find a dilapidated wooden gate leading to a short alleyway. Alex holds it open for Diane to pass through and then closes it gently. The latch sticks as he attempts to slide it back into place.
Once they are at the door, Diane knocks. Immediately they hear shuffling sounds from within, although it takes a lengthy moment before the inside locks are undone.
When Yvette Banks pulls open the door, she and Alex make immediate eye contact. They stand there, as if held in place by a tractor beam, taking in one another.
“Yvette, this is Alex Marshall,” Diane says. “Alex, Yvette Banks."
“It’s nice to meet you,” Alex says. “Thanks for making the time."
Yvette takes his hand for a shake. Her skin is soft, her hand a little more padded than he expected -- which makes sense, in light of how pregnant she is -- and one of her long fingernails scratches against his palm.
“Come on in,” Yvette says. She steps out of the way and waits for them to enter. As she closes and locks the door, Alex takes in the space. It is very small, just a bedroom with a tiny kitchenette against one wall. Worn brown carpet covers the entire apartment. Opposite the entrance is another door that Alex presumes is the bathroom.
“I know it’s not much,” Yvette says as she maneuvers her body -- most of which seems to be stomach, at this late stage of her pregnancy — across the room. “But it’s only temporary. Came furnished and all.” She eases herself onto the edge of the twin bed. “Come on, have a seat."
She indicates a single armchair in the corner and a wooden stool beside it. Alex pulls up the stool, and Diane perches in the chair.
“How are you feeling?” Alex asks. A small knot of nerves twists in his gut as he processes all this new information: the woman, the apartment, the unborn child. Until right now, it all felt somehow abstract, not quite real.
“I’m okay. Real tired. Don’t think I’m gonna be working much longer."
“Where, uh, where do you work?”
“Down at the 99-cent store over on Duvall.” She flicks her hand through the air, as if the store is somewhere to her left. “They got me on my damn feet all day."
“I’m sure that’s exhausting,” Alex says.
“Sure is."
Diane clasps her hands together and clears her throat. “Yvette, Alex is an author. I was actually his editor back when I worked at Vision Publishing."
Yvette squints at him. “What do you write?"
“Mostly character fiction. Coming-of-age stories.” He can see the lack of interest on her face. “My publisher is pushing me to write more mystery, though. I think my next book is going to be more like that."
“Like a murder mystery?” Yvette asks. “That’s about all I read."
He exhales and manages a small smile. “Well, I hope you like whatever I come up with."
He isn’t sure where or how to direct the conversation. The situation is so loaded, so dense with emotion and things unspoken, and yet it feels craven and crass to ask outright about Yvette’s unborn baby.
Yvette is the next to break the silence. “What kind of family you have?"
“Me? Oh.” Alex tries to wrangle his thoughts, though it feels a bit like trying to catch water with his fingers. “It was just my mom and me growing up. I’m an only child. Well, was. My dad -- I didn’t meet him until I was much older. He had another baby with the woman he married. Billy. He’s in kindergarten now. So I’ve had a lot of experience helping out and seeing him grow."
“Alex also lived with his close friend for a few years,” Diane adds, “and helped him raise his daughter, who was barely a toddler when Alex moved in."
“That your man? The one you’re marrying, I mean?” Yvette looks sharply toward Diane. “You didn’t tell me they had a kid."
“No, uh, Jason is my best friend,” Alex answers. "He has been for a long time. His wife passed away when their daughter was about a year old, so I moved in to help him out."
Yvette nods slowly. “That’s nice of you."
“He’s a great friend. It was the least I could do. And getting to be there to watch Sophie grow up -- that was incredible.” He feels something swelling inside of himself. “Yvette, I’ve had a lot of advantages in life, but my mother… she never totally made me her priority. I sort of got swept along in whatever was going on with her, and we moved around a lot because she was never sure what she wanted. She never acknowledged that she might not have been able to give me all the focus that a child requires. So for you to do this for your baby…"
He gestures broadly toward her stomach, unsure of exactly what he is trying to say and hoping that he is not offending her.
"I know this is a tough decision for you to make,” he says. "But it’s also really brave. And if you were to decide that you felt like I could give that child a good home, I’d be honored."
Yvette leans back, palms flat on the bed behind her, her breathing a bit heavy. Then she looks to Diane again.
“You knew what you were doing,” she says. “This is a good one. You’re a good man, Alex, I can tell."
“Um, thank you,” he says, thrown by the sincerity of her pronouncement.
“Now, I’m gonna have to meet this fiancé you’ve got,” Yvette adds, “but we’ve gotta make it fast. I don’t think I have much longer before this baby comes."
“We’ll make it work,” Diane says before Alex can respond. “We’ll make it all work."
