Read Online A Necessary End by Holly Brown - Free Book Online Page A

is prone to maternal feelings herself, and to second-guessing.
    Let her be Machiavelli, if that’s what it takes.
    Her cell phone is lying on the table next to a pot of orange marmalade. A text is coming in, and she glances down and smiles, with what seems like private pleasure. Then she broadcasts: “The other prospective parents. They want to know if I’m going down to L.A. to see them.”
    â€œThey must be nervous,” I say. “We’ve been in their position before.” Meaning: We’re not there now. Meaning: This is our baby, not theirs.
    Leah nods, still with that enigmatic smile. “I don’t want to pressure you guys, but I do need to know pretty soon what you want to do. If you want me to stay.”
    It’s funny phrasing—this isn’t about Leah staying, it’s about her baby staying—and it makes me think that Leah is going to be acutely sensitive to rejection. I remember what she said about birth mothers getting thrown away and how that’s not going to happen to her. It’s the kind of defiant thing I might have said when I was her age.
    It’s also funny that I’m not feeling more warmly toward my young doppelgänger. Maybe the mistrust isn’t about Leah’s resemblance to our last potential birth mother/con artist, but about her resemblance to me.
    Gabe and I look at each other. We haven’t actually talked about this since our middle-of-the-night tête-à-tête. In the cold light of day, we haven’t finalized anything with one another, let alone with Leah.
    But the next few seconds are crucial, I know. Leah can’t feel rejected.
    â€œWe want you,” I say. “And the baby, of course.” Like the baby is an afterthought, like what we’ve always wanted in our marriage is not a newborn but a nubile version of me traipsing around our house, burning off her pregnancy weight at the speed of nineteen. “Are you sure you want us? You only got here last night. This is such a big decision, and we want you to feel—”
    â€œI want you guys,” Leah says. “I’m the kind of person who goes with my gut.”
    â€œWhat does your gut say about us?” Gabe seems mildly curious, or bemused.
    I turn to stare at him. This is no time for questioning. Leah is choosing us. This is all proceeding according to plan, sort of.
    Leah turns to him, too. Her expression is decidedly softer than mine. Where he’s bemused, she’s amused. “My gut says you’re awesome.” I’m pretty sure she’s flirting, though her smile encompasses me, too, like a great big hoop skirt. She’s choosing us both. We’re her new family.
    That’s what it is. That’s what scares me the most. What if Leah tries to latch on and never let go, like a parasite and her hosts? Family is supposed to be forever.
    Good in theory.
    I can still hear the slur of my mother’s voice. She’s overweight, lumbering unsteadily to her feet, like a cow on ice. “Don’t ever come back then!” she shouts. “You fucking slut!” She’s wrong about the slut part. There weren’t many others besides Gabe. In my heart, there was none other.
    I was nineteen then, I realize. I lost my mother, what little I ever had of her, at the very age that Leah is going to deliver my own child to me. A boy. Please, let it be a boy. Boys revere their mothers, if the rumors are true.
    It’s almost too perfect, the symmetry: coming full circle, the circle of love, just like I wrote in the profile.
    Leah’s right. Gabe and I are awesome. No matter what, we’re going to stay that way.
    â€œCan I touch him?” I ask Leah. She leans back obligingly, and I place my hand on her belly. I feel around for him. It’s my third time today. I’m like a junkie needing a fix.
    I mainline my future child, knowing that whatever happens will be worth it. He’s worth