Tara Quinn - The Friendship Pact

“My mother was divorcing a judge who was set on destroying her....”

“You were afraid you wouldn’t get in. And afraid that if you did, you’d fail....”

True.

“But I could see that. I knew how badly you really wanted to go. I knew what you really wanted and nagged you to fill out those forms.”

True again. “We filled out the forms together,” Bailey reminded her.

“Jake’s not dating anyone....”

Bailey’s heart leapt. She’d come so close to letting that man talk her into something she knew she’d regret.

She’d almost let him talk her into running away and getting married.

For a whole weekend, she’d considered the idea. Had let herself imagine what it would be like to be married to Jake and have it work out the way it had for Kora and Danny.

But then that Sunday night, facing work the next day, she’d complained about a partner at work and Jake had told her she could quit her job if she wanted to. He’d promised to support her if she wanted to open her own firm. And she’d heard the judge again, so clearly it hurt, as her mind replayed a conversation she’d overheard between him and her mom the night before they got married. He’d told her mom basically the same thing. Only for Mom it had been about going to law school. But when it came right down to it, he’d so lovingly and persuasively suggested that her mother didn’t need to waste time going back to school. He was perfectly capable of supporting them and she might not like the course as much as she expected or be as good at it as she wanted to be and...slowly, day by day, the relationship made in heaven had fallen apart.

Kora and Danny might make it forever. But if they did, they were the exception. Just like Papa Bill and Mama Di had been for their generation. In her experience, most couples who stayed together didn’t do it out of happiness or love. They did it because it was easier. Or for financial security. And their homes were filled with boredom. Or silence. So were their lives.

Unless they were unfaithful to each other and found a different life, a new life, outside the home.

She didn’t want it. Couldn’t take that chance. “Jake was asking about you.” Kora’s voice fell into the silence. “I’m sure I could...”

“No, Kor.” She was absolutely positive. She wasn’t going to make that mistake. No matter how much Kora wanted her to have her happily ever after.

She wasn’t an easy person. She got snippy. And had a tendency to be standoffish. She wasn’t good at trusting and no relationship survived without it....

“Okay.” Kora’s fingers running gently through her hair felt good. Safe. “You don’t want Jake, that’s fine. I totally respect that....”

And because she knew that Kora honestly and sincerely wanted what was best for her, as she did for Kora, because she knew, deep down, that they’d really truly die for each other, Bailey said, “It’s not that I don’t care for him, it’s just that...”

“...you’re afraid to get married.”

Okay, maybe she was. Or maybe she really wasn’t the marrying kind. Either way, the end result was the same. She was sure she didn’t want to get married.

And none of that changed what was most important to her now.

Bailey wanted to be a mother. A good mother. A child would complete her in a way nothing else—including marriage—ever would. And she honestly and soulfully believed that she could give a child a world full of love while bringing him or her up to be an asset to society.

She believed that.

Somehow she had to get Kora to believe it, too.

Chapter Seven

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I followed Bailey through the door of the fertility clinic Tuesday morning. All I knew was that time was running out—on my chances to save her from herself. Bailey deserved to experience the fullness of life, with the joys and the comforts and securities that a family of her own could offer her. She deserved a partner to shoulder every single care with her, to have her back and to have as much invested in the victories, too.

All her life she’d had to go it alone—except for me, of course.

And while I’d always be there for her, I couldn’t live in her home with her. I couldn’t get up for middle-of-the-night feedings or share the housework. I wouldn’t be able to hear the child cry out in the night, or be the one who stopped for milk on the way home from work. I couldn’t take turns with diaper changes and baths, or sit at the table every night and share in the joy of every first time. And who would there be besides me? I hoped I’d be present for some of them. The first step, maybe. Or first smile.

But... My mind was wandering.

Bailey had checked in and we were told to sit in a waiting room that was empty except for two other women.

“It’s not very crowded,” I whispered. “Don’t you think, if they were good at this, there’d be a lot more people here? A lot of fertility clinics are in it for the money. They prey on people who are desperate to have kids and—”

“They aren’t crowded because they’re careful not to schedule too many patients at once.” Bailey leaned over to whisper behind her hand. I’d worn pants and a matching jacket, just as she had today. I’d needed to feel as powerful as she always looked.

I was out to protect my best friend—maybe even save her life.

“They understand how nerve-racking this whole process can be and they do everything they can to make it as comfortable as possible, including guaranteeing that there’ll never be more than a five—or ten-minute wait.”

I opened my mouth to point out that the other two women didn’t look very happy, but the door opened before I got a word out and we were called back. With trepidation weighing down every bone in my body, I followed Bailey through the private door and down a lushly carpeted hallway, wondering if the two women who’d been there before us would be pissed that we got in ahead of them.

* * *

So, that went well...not. Bailey was quiet as she pulled out of the clinic’s driveway an hour later, but Koralynn’s silence was more acute.

“I need to do this, Kor.”

“I can see why being a single mother is a fine choice for some women.” Koralynn stared ahead, her hands on top of the brown Coach bag that matched her shoes.

Bailey liked her best in sweats. With no makeup.

She liked herself best that way, too.

“But, as the counselor said, some of those women have lost the love of their lives. You’re afraid to give love a chance,” Kora continued, her voice calm in that way that sounded as if carefully controlled emotion could bubble over any second.

It never did. It just sounded like it could.

“She also said not every woman has a ‘love of her life,’” Bailey reminded her, thinking back over everything Marybeth, the counselor, had discussed with them.

At first Marybeth had assumed she and Kora were partners, wanting to have a baby together. Kora seemed to take less offense at that misunderstanding than at Bailey’s wanting to go this alone.

More frustrated than she’d ever been with her friend, Bailey was at a loss as to what to say here. How to help Koralynn understand.

“Did you even listen to her, Bail?” Kora was asking in that same tone of voice. “She spent half an hour discussing the hardships of being a single mother. Which is why so few women willingly choose that course!”

Whoa, it was worse than she’d figured. Kora’s tone was rising. As close to yelling as Koralynn ever got.

“You aren’t one of those women, Bail. You have options. And time. Lots of it. We’re just twenty-eight!”

“You’ve been trying for a year,” she said, feeling petulant.

Disappointed.