Raising Rain (18 page)

Mare rummaged in the cupboard. “Yellow, red, and blue. No green.” She opened the fridge and got out the milk and margarine. “Hand me the mixer. I'll make it.”

“Just don't eat it all,” Bebe said.

“I won't!” Mare ripped the top from the box of powdered icing and dumped the contents into a mixing bowl. Then she measured out the margarine, vanilla, and milk, and turned on the mixer. A fine powdered mist and a sweet aroma rose from the bowl as the beaters spun.

Rain had pulled herself up by the metal kitchen chair, and slapped the plastic chair seat, jabbering. Bebe pushed objects on the table out of her reach.

Toni came in from class and let her macramé purse slide off her shoulder onto the floor, making a beeline for Rain. She picked her up and blew raspberries on her stomach, making Rain scream with delight.

Bebe picked up Toni's purse from the floor and gave her a stern look. “Toni, you know you can't leave this where Rain can get into it,” she said, over the noise of the mixer.

Toni rolled her eyes. “Yes, mother.”

“You would feel really bad if she got into pills or something that made her sick—or worse.”

“Uncle. You win. I'll be good next time.” Toni kissed Rain on the top of her head and set her back down on the floor. Then she picked up her purse and took it to her room.

“Hang it up out of reach,” Bebe called, and then said under her breath, “She's too young for birth control.”

Rain crawled to the electrical outlet and patted it. Bebe scooped her back up onto her hip.

Bebe got out plates and cups and slid the pizza into the oven onehanded. The door hung open slightly, since the round pizza pan didn't quite fit. Rain leaned down and reached toward the heat. Bebe turned away from the stove. “Here,” she said to Toni when she came back in, “take her.”

Toni took Rain and zoomed her through the air and out of the kitchen, making airplane noises. Rain screamed and laughed.

Bebe got out four bottles of Tab, and a bottle of juice for Rain and set them on the table. Toni zoomed Rain back into the kitchen and handed her over to Bebe's empty arms. She smelled like a mixture of Chantilly and something rotten.

“I think she's got a present for you,” Toni said, scrunching her nose.

Bebe peeked into Rain's diaper. “For heaven's sake, Toni, you know how to change her diaper.”

Toni smiled sweetly, and picked up the receiver of the wall phone. “I've got to call Denny about tomorrow,” she said, stretching the phone cord around the corner so they couldn't hear her conversation.

Mare turned off the mixer and took a spoonful to test. Then she took another. “I have to remind Arnie about tomorrow, too.” She looked at Bebe. “It's okay if he comes, isn't it?”

Bebe decided to be truthful with Mare. “You know, I really don't like being your partner in crime. What if his wife finds out?”

“Oh, she doesn't care. They're getting a divorce.”

Bebe hiked Rain farther up on her hip and asked as she left the kitchen, “Are you sure about that?”

“I'm sure, okay? Arnie said.”

Bebe took Rain into Jude's room and waded through her dirty clothes and textbooks to change Rain's diaper on the bed. The pile of dirty clothes was disgusting, but at least it would cushion the fall if Rain rolled off the bed in the few seconds it took Bebe to rinse out the diaper.

She gave Rain the keys from her pocket to play with. Rain shook the keys and repeated, “Mma-mma-mma-mma.” A small thrill went through Bebe, and she smiled and repeated “Ma-ma” with Rain, accentuating the sounds as she changed the diaper. Then she gave Rain a sloppy kiss in the crook of her neck.

Bebe twisted the small ring with an amethyst stone from her finger and slipped it into her pocket as she rinsed the dirty diaper in the toilet and deposited it into the diaper pail. She washed and dried her hands, and slid the small ring back onto her pinkie. She briefly held up the stone to catch the light, which that day shone a clear violet, and she
smiled as she went back to the bedroom for Rain. The ring had been a gift from Bobby when she was in elementary school, and she could still wear it, although it now left an imprint on her finger.

She was just bringing Rain out all powdered and fresh, when Jude came home. Jude tossed her books onto a chair and took the baby out of her arms. Rain got a fistful of Jude's beads and stuck them in her mouth. “How's my little Raindrop?” Jude asked, as she nuzzled the baby's temple. Bebe watched them go, feeling dismissed.

Bebe smelled the pizza and went back to the kitchen. Mare was frosting the top of the cake and telling Toni to hurry and get off the phone to take the pizza out of the oven, so Bebe grabbed a pot holder and removed it. Mare peeled off the “Happy Birthday” sugar letters from the damp cardboard backing and lined them up on the top of the cake, adding one candle.

They all sat down together at the table and Jude fed Rain some puréed carrots and chicken before she ate some of her pizza. They took turns holding and feeding Rain on their laps while trying to keep her baby hands out of their food. Toni let Rain suck pizza sauce from her finger and laughed when she puckered her mouth, but Bebe pointed out that it was too spicy for Rain's tummy. They agreed that they would have to somehow find a high chair for her, since she was getting too big to pass around during meals.

They cleared away the dishes, piling them in the sink, and set Rain's cake in the center of the table with the ice cream and paper plates.

“Go get your camera, Bebe,” said Jude. “We need to take pictures.”

Bebe looked at her and said, “But you have a camera.”

Jude made silly faces at Rain and bounced her on her hip without looking up. “It's out of film.”

Bebe gave in and retrieved her camera from her bedroom closet. When she brought it to the kitchen, Mare, Toni, Jude, and Rain were already lined up around the cake. Bebe hesitated.

“Bebe, here,” Toni said, reaching for the camera. “You get in the picture and I'll take it.”

Rain squirmed in Jude's arms and started to fuss.

“Will somebody just take the picture?” Jude complained.

“No, no. It's fine,” said Bebe. “Stay there.”

Bebe focused the lens on the group. “Say cheese.” She snapped the picture, and they all sang “Happy Birthday” and blew out the candle together.

After they had eaten cake and ice cream, and Rain was a mess, Jude handed her off to answer the phone. Bebe got a warm rag and began wiping Rain's hands and face. Toni silently got Bebe's attention, held up the camera, and motioned for her to pose with Rain beside what was left of the cake. She glanced over at Jude. She had her back to them leaning against the wall, deep in conversation. As the camera flash brightened the room, Jude turned to see what was going on. Bebe saw a fleeting look of anger cross Jude's face when she saw Rain and Bebe posed together, just before she turned back to her conversation. Toni advanced the film and handed the camera back to Bebe with a devious wink.

T
he first thing Rain did every morning now, was to take her temperature before she moved from her bed. She charted the temperature and studied the numbers, wondering what it all meant. She couldn't tell whether she was normal or abnormal, but she knew she was getting a little closer to motherhood each morning. The chart would further define her options, regardless of the outcome, and it was a hundred times better than doing nothing at all.

To further feel like she was making progress, Rain started a journal. She wrote down physical descriptions and character traits that would make up the perfect father. The problem was that the character traits were hard to gauge. She would have to get to know a donor to truly know his character, and that wasn't part of the deal. Most of the information online was sketchy and many wanted to remain anonymous. Besides, she didn't want the mess of interpersonal relationships clouding the issue. She would be raising the baby alone, so she reasoned that, ultimately, her character was the more important factor. Nurture over nature and all that. Or was it nature over nurture? Whatever, she
didn't need a dad—she needed a donor.

She stood in her extra bedroom and envisioned where a crib, dresser, and changing table would fit best. The crib should be away from the window, for obvious safety reasons. She could make curtains for the window and coordinate with a soft rug in any color or pattern she wanted to use, and no one could argue with her.

There was always the chance that she would have to sell the house. She hadn't heard from Hayden, but they would eventually have to meet to discuss what to do about it.

Hayden would have made a great dad.

She wanted a girl. She'd been around Bebe's boys when they were growing up. She had seen the division of labor at the time between Bebe and Neil, and she wondered if things had changed since the boys had left. She knew that Neil was the sports enthusiast and parent volunteer for their overnight Boy Scout events. Of course, it didn't necessarily follow that any boy Rain had would also be into sports or have outdoor interests, but at least, for Bebe's family, it was fortunate that Neil was around, she had to admit.

Rain read up on assisted reproduction technology and was initially discouraged at the success rates for women in her mid-to-late thirties category. She had a better chance of getting pregnant using someone's donor egg than using her own, but that gave her more than a 30 percent chance of having a multiple birth. What would she do with twins—or triplets? That also raised the likelihood of having low-birthweight babies and miscarriages.

If she had to use donor eggs, she would give birth to a child to whom she was not related in any way. And there was always the matter of money. It was an expensive undertaking, requiring time and money with no guarantee of success. How much would she give to have a baby of her own?

A niggling thought unsettled her. Assisted reproduction technology was simply a sign of the progress of the times available to her, wasn't it? It was her right to have a child, whether or not there was a father figure. Who knows, she could even meet someone later who was open to
a relationship with a woman who had a child—the right kind of man who would love the child as his own.

That opened up all kinds of issues. Should she tell her child that she was not biologically related to either parent? There would be questions about her medical history when she became an adult. But would she want to know her “real” parents? Would she be angry? Possibly, by then it could be very commonplace to be a product of in vitro. Should she choose a donor listed as “open,” just in case her child wanted to know her paternal parent, or close off the option of future contact altogether? She never knew her own father, and it hadn't made a difference.

That wasn't entirely true. To be honest with herself, she had to admit that a chunk of her life was lost because she grew up without a dad. She didn't entirely blame her mother. Somewhere out there was a man who dodged his obligations to her. But it was entirely possible that Jude never even told the guy that she was pregnant. And it was also possible that she didn't have a clue as to who he was.

Even though Rain could carefully choose the physical and genetic characteristics of a father, she still wouldn't know him, and neither would her child. Would it be enough to know that Rain made a conscious choice to have a child—that she chose having a child over having Hayden?

“I don't know how Fluffy got pregnant, Dr. St. Clair. She never goes out of our yard. Never.” Fluffy's mommy smoothed the white hair from the dog's eyes.

“I understand, Mrs. Lanham,” Bebe said, checking Fluffy's soft underbelly. “But Fluffy couldn't get pregnant on her own. Is it possible that another dog could have gotten into your yard?”

“Oh, no. My Jojo is so protective. Why, if another dog ever came into our yard, Jojo would chase him right away.”

Bebe paused and considered the woman. “Jojo?”