No Strings Attached

“There’s not much you can say that will surprise me at this point. I think you know that.”

She took a few moments, sipped more Chianti to bolster her courage and blurted, “I’ve decided to have a baby.”

Eyes widening, Jack nearly choked on his veal parmesan and reached for his water glass. After a moment, he said, “I take it back. I’m surprised.” His brows drew together in confusion. “What am I missing here? Have you been dating someone that I don’t know about? Are you getting married?” He paled at the thought.

“I don’t have a husband waiting in the wings. I’m doing this all on my own.”

His right brow cocked. “Really? Now that would be interesting. As far as I know, there’s only been one immaculate conception.”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Very funny. Obviously I can’t impregnate myself. I’m going to need help with that. Care to volunteer?”

He ignored her. “I assume since you’re not as ballsy as Patty that you’re talking about artificial insemination?”

“It’s not my method of choice, but under the circumstances I don’t see another way.”

“You could wait for the right man to come along, fall in love, get married. You know, the usual road to conception.”

“I’ve been that route with no luck. You of all people should know that. We have that flaw in common.”

“I don’t consider it a flaw. I consider it a lifestyle choice,” he retorted, adding, “Look, Samantha, I think you’d be making a big mistake if you go through with this crazy scheme of yours. You might think you want a child, but this isn’t the way to go about it.”

“Why not? Plenty of single women have babies. Jodi Foster did it, and Diane Keaton, not to mention Rosie O’Donnell, who adopted her kids.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on. Be sensible. Having a kid on your own isn’t a good idea. Those celebrities you’ve mentioned have money—you don’t.”

Hurt filled her voice. “I was hoping you’d be more supportive. This is important to me.”

“I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t give you my honest opinion, now would I? I’ve never lied to you, Samantha, not in all the years we’ve known each other.”

“I guess you’re entitled to your opinion, but just don’t go giving it out to anyone else. We’ll be going to my parents’ house soon for the annual apple harvest celebration, and I expect you to keep my confidence and not blab my plans to anyone—including Ross.”

“You know you can trust me. I’d never betray your confidence.”

“No, just my friendship.”

His lips thinned. “That’s not fair. I’m just trying to save you from yourself. Sometimes you act without thinking.”

“Is that what you think this is? Just because you don’t want to settle down and have a family? Well, that’s not me. Maybe I don’t want to get married and have a husband, but I do want to have a child.”

“That’s because you’ve never had one or been around kids for any length of time. This is just some fantasy you cooked up after babysitting the Walker baby.”

“It is not! I’ve given it a lot of thought. In fact, I’ve thought of little else. And you said yourself that we might be missing out.”

He shook his head. “Tell me how you plan to support yourself and a baby. How will you work and take care of a child? A baby is a huge responsibility, not to mention expensive. There’ll be hospital and doctor fees, baby furniture to buy, clothing, diapers, food. You can’t afford a child.”

She stiffened. “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, Jack. Just because we live together doesn’t mean I can’t manage without you. I’ve already lined up several freelance jobs. And I intend to ask Gary to increase my hours at Starbucks. With the holidays coming, they’ll need more help. And I can always babysit to supplement my income, if I need to. There are a lot of jobs I’m capable of doing, and that includes working for you.

“And you don’t have to worry about me infringing on our friendship because I don’t intend to.”

Jack heaved a deep sigh and looked as if he was about to say something else, but Samantha cut him off.

“And don’t forget, there’s always a chance that my book will sell for gobs of money.”

And maybe pigs would fly.

CHAPTER FOUR

“YOU APPEAR TO BE in excellent health, Ms. Brady,” Doctor Phillips told Samantha a few days later. The gray-haired gynecologist, who resembled George Hamilton without the tan, had been recommended by a friend of a friend of Patty’s and was touted to be one of the best in his field. Patty had pulled a few strings to get Samantha an appointment. And knowing how many patients were waiting to see the sought-after specialist, she owed her friend big-time.

“I’ll still need to wait for the results of today’s tests before I can determine the best way to proceed with the insemination process, Ms. Brady. And I want to make certain that your left ovary isn’t going to be problematic.”

Samantha filled with alarm. “Do you think it will be?” She got her period every month, so she’d assumed her ovaries were working just fine.

“I’ll have my nurse schedule a sonogram so we can take a peek at what’s going on with it, okay? It could very well be nothing, but I want to make sure that it isn’t a cyst or a tumor.”

Samantha had the strongest urge to borrow that Schwarzenegger line—”It’s not a tumor!”—but refrained. Instead, she folded her sweaty hands primly in her lap and nodded. “Whatever you think is best. You’re the expert. But I do have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Fire away. I want you to feel completely comfortable about everything we’re going to do. This is a big step you’re taking.”

“From what I’ve read, it’s my understanding that I have to be ovulating before you can perform the procedure. Is that correct?”

“Precisely. With both artificial and intrauterine insemination, ovulation has to occur in order for the donated sperm to fertilize your eggs.”

“What’s the difference between the two? And what’s my best bet for conceiving?”

“Depends on what we discover from your tests. With intrauterine insemination, we flush the sperm directly into the uterus by means of a catheter. Artificial insemination puts the sperm into the vagina or on the cervix. But sometimes the woman’s cervical mucus is such that it won’t allow the sperm to travel through it, thus blocking fertilization.”

Samantha’s face fell and a stab of disappointment knifed through her. “Oh. I hadn’t read that.” It would be just her luck to have body fluids that hated sperm. First her ovary might be a dud, and now this.

“Once I see the results of your tests I’ll be able to determine the best way to proceed. You should know that in either case the percentage for successfully producing a fertilized egg is low.”

“Really? How low?” She thought this plan of hers was foolproof. It seemed every girl she’d known in high school who’d had sex before marriage had gotten pregnant.

“It can be as low as eight percent, so you need to be prepared for failure. Of course, I’ve had patients who have gotten lucky on the first try, but that’s rare. It’s a crapshoot, if you want to know the truth. It either takes or it doesn’t. There’s really no way to predict the outcome.”

Their discussion was getting more depressing by the minute, and Samantha wondered if she was wasting her time. “I see.” But she didn’t, not really.

Why did everything have to be so damn complicated? She just wanted to have a baby—something women had been doing for eons.

“My nurse, Mrs. Wilson, said she’s already explained to you about making a BBT chart and tracking your temperature. This is how we’ll determine whether or not you’re ovulating.” His brows rose in anticipation. “I assume you’re doing that already?”

She nodded. “I started as soon as she told me. I’ve been religious about filling out the temperature chart every day. And as close as I can figure based on my last period, I should be ovulating by next week.”

He smiled kindly. “Excellent. I’ll have my nurse set up an appointment. We’ll shoot for the end of next week, providing your tests and sonogram prove okay. How does that sound?”

“Fine.” She tried to sound nonchalant, but her heart was racing with excitement.

The doctor hesitated a moment, his face filling with concern. “I should tell you, Ms. Brady, that artificial insemination in any form is not an inexpensive proposition. Have you considered the cost? We sometimes have to do this procedure over and over again to achieve the results we want. And most insurance companies don’t cover it, as it’s considered an elective course of action.”

Samantha swallowed. She had no health insurance, but she had cashed in several of the savings bonds her grandparents had given her at birth. If there were no further complications, she’d have enough money for maybe two attempts.

“I understand. And I’m prepared to move forward.”

Go directly to debtor’s prison. Do not pass GO. Do not collect two hundred dollars.

“All right then. We’ll give it a try. Do you have someone you can bring with you to your appointment, to take you home after the procedure? You may experience some discomfort, a bit of cramping, and I’d feel better if you had someone to accompany you home.”

“Umm, yes. I’m certain one of my friends will come with me.” But that was a crock and she knew it. Jack would rather have his eyelashes plucked out, one by one, than accompany her to the doctor’s office. And though Patty had been supportive, she wasn’t sure how much her friend wanted to participate in something she felt was idiotic.

Samantha was in this alone, and alone was how she was going to do it.

THE FOLLOWING WEEK, Jack entered the apartment to find Samantha seated at the kitchen table eating a large bowl of ice cream. She was looking rather glum, despite the chocolate flavor, which usually had the power to put a smile on her face. “What’s wrong? Did you get bad news from the doctor?”

She looked up, smiled halfheartedly in greeting, and then shrugged. “Not really bad news, but not good news either. The results of my tests were inconclusive, and my sonogram shows that one of my ovaries has a small cyst and is not functioning properly. It’s sluggish, whatever that means.”

“So you’re not getting it done?” He looked relieved. “I’m glad. Like I said, it would be a mistake.”

“Doctor Phillips postponed the insemination procedure. He said based on what he’s seen so far I might have difficulty conceiving.”

Crossing the room in three long strides, Jack took her hands, his eyes filled with concern. “I’m sorry, Samantha. I know how important this is to you. But maybe God is trying to tell you something, like you should wait for the right man to come along.”

She gazed into his eyes and said, “The right man isn’t going to come along, Jack.” He already had and he’d kept right on walking. “And I’m not down for the count yet. The doctor said to come back on Tuesday afternoon.”

“I want to go with you, make sure everything goes okay. You might not be feeling well afterward, and I don’t want you going home by yourself. You could faint on the subway, or something.”

Smiling softly, she patted his cheek and recalled why Jack was such an important part of her life. “That’s nice of you. I wasn’t sure you’d want to come, knowing how you feel about doctors and hospitals.” But she should have guessed. Jack had always been there for her; he was the one person she could count on, no matter what problems she faced. And she liked to think she’d always be there for him, too.

But she also knew that Jack hated anything having to do with illness. His father had spent a lot of time in hospitals and treatment facilities, trying to dry out. The Turners had been frequent visitors to the hospital during those times, and the memories of those visits remained unpleasant for him.

“I’ll survive,” he said.

“I know, but—”

Suddenly Jack wrapped his arms about Samantha, unable to contain his grin. “I’ve got good news.”

Her eyes widened with delight. “I thought you were looking rather pleased with yourself this evening. Did you finally sell that monstrosity on West 103rd?”

Shaking his head, his grin widened. “No. This isn’t about a sale. I quit my job today, Samantha. I’m free of that bastard O’Leary. Told him to shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

Laughing, she threw her arms about his waist and hugged him hard. “That’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you, Jack. This calls for a major celebration.”

He shook his head, his expression suddenly somber. “We’ll celebrate after I work out all the details. For now, we need to conserve money, just in case this new venture of mine doesn’t work out. It’s a big risk, and I’m worried about it.”

“But I thought Tom Adler was investing.”

“He is. But the overhead is going to be big. And until we start making sales, I want to pull back on the spending.”

“I understand.”

“That doesn’t mean that I won’t lend you money, if you need it for the insemination procedures. I intend to be here for you, even if I don’t agree with what you’re doing.”

She shook her head. “I appreciate the offer but that won’t be necessary.” Samantha explained about the savings bonds, and his face suddenly reddened in anger.

“Why didn’t you come to me first? I don’t want you spending your life savings. What if something unforeseen happens? You won’t have anything to fall back on.”

“Stop treating me like a child, Jack. I haven’t cashed in all of my bonds, only a few. And though I appreciate your advice and concern, I have to do what I think’s best. I’m a grown woman, after all. And I do have a job, you know; in fact, I have several.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath. “But I’m worried about you. You might be biting off more than you can chew.”

“Well don’t. There’s no need. I’m going to get pregnant, and then my life will be complete and wonderful. You’ll see.”

BUT TWO MONTHS LATER, Samantha still wasn’t pregnant, couldn’t afford any more visits to Dr. Phillips and had pretty much concluded that a baby wasn’t going to be part of her future.

Her mother always said that God had a plan for everyone, but Samantha didn’t like this one. She didn’t like it at all.

“Thanks for meeting me here on such short notice, Patty. I know how busy you are, but I needed to talk to you. I asked Gary for an extended break.” She waved at the smiling Starbucks manager, who had a slight crush on her. And though she hated taking advantage of his interest, sometimes it was necessary.

“Not a problem. You know Starbucks is my one true passion,” her friend said, stirring sweetener into her coffee. “But where’s your roommate? I thought he wasn’t working.”

“Jack and his partner are getting their new real estate office set up. They found a really nice place in Midtown, in one of those high-rise buildings. It’s very posh and should attract some well-heeled clientele. At least I hope so. Jack’s been working really hard.”

“I may be able to throw some clients their way. I’ll see what I can do and give Jack a call.”

Samantha’s face brightened. “That’d be great! I’m sure Jack would appreciate it very much.”

Patty arched a perfectly formed brow. “Maybe he’ll reciprocate by taking me out for a drink. Your roommate is pretty hot. I can’t believe you two have never taken your relationship any further than friendship.”

“Because we’re friends, nothing more.” And that’s all they ever would be. Samantha had given up her romantic notions long ago. Of course, that didn’t mean she wanted to encourage Patty where Jack was concerned. She wasn’t his type, not at all.

“Well, if that’s the case and you don’t mind—”

“Uh, I’m not sure, Patty. Jack’s seeing someone at the moment,” she lied, hoping to spare her friend any embarrassment.

Jack would not want to date Patty; of that, Samantha was certain and rather relieved, to be perfectly honest. The idea of Patty and Jack sleeping together did not set well with her for reasons she dared not question.

Samantha had thought more times than she cared to admit about what it would be like to be with Jack in a sexual way. And unfortunately, she had a very good imagination.

“Too bad. He’s cute. What’s his partner look like?”

“Tom Adler? I don’t know. I’ve never met him. But Jack says he’s nice.”

Patty, who almost never ate sweets, took a bite out of Samantha’s blueberry muffin. “So tell me what’s wrong. You look like hell, and it’s only ten o’clock in the morning.”

“I just got my period. I’m not pregnant, and I’m never going to be.” She fought back the tears threatening to spill, knowing her friend wouldn’t appreciate them. Patty was not what one would call sentimental about such things.

“I’m sorry, Samantha. Truly. I know how disappointed you must be.”

She sighed. “I never thought it would be this difficult to get pregnant. Seems ironic that I worried all through college about getting knocked up, and now I can’t conceive. I feel like such a failure of a woman. I mean, most women get pregnant at the drop of a hat.”

“Stop it! I won’t let you talk about yourself that way. The timing just wasn’t right, that’s all. Maybe when you’ve had time to think this through, you’ll find it’s a blessing in disguise.”

“I don’t want to be blessed. I want to be pregnant.”

“Have you spoken to Jack about any of this?”

Samantha shook her head. “No. Jack hates it when I’m negative. But I feel like such a loser. I can’t sell my book. I can’t get pregnant. Hell, I can’t even get a date.”

“Because you’re not putting yourself out there, honey. Why don’t we go out tonight, just the two of us? It’ll be my treat. We’ll find us some men and have mindless sex. Whaddaya say?”

“I appreciate the offer, Patty, but I just don’t feel up to it. Plus, I’ve got my period. There’ll be no sex for me.” Not that she was into casual sex anyway. She and Patty might be friends, but they were fundamentally different when it came to some things, like having sex just for the hell of it.

Samantha might not be interested in marriage per se, but she wanted to have meaningful relationships. She wanted to care about someone and have him care about her.

Her friend’s eyes widened. “You mean, you’ve never—?”

Samantha screwed up her face in disgust. “No way. The very idea makes me want to puke.” In high school the guys used to refer to having period sex as “the red badge of courage.” She thought it was totally gross then, and still did.

“God, you’re such an infant. Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it.”

“I haven’t tried suicide, but I know I won’t like that, either.”

Patty laughed. “One thing I’ll say about you, Samantha, you keep me grounded. You’re the most normal person I know.”

Samantha sighed, knowing she wasn’t normal at all.

Normal women got pregnant.

Normal women achieved their goals.

Normal women wallowed in self-pity on occasion.

Well, one out of three wasn’t bad.

JACK RUSHED into the apartment two hours later, slamming the door behind him, and was relieved to find Samantha reclining on the sofa. He’d been worried as hell since receiving Patty Bradshaw’s phone call.

Tears streaked her cheeks and her eyes were redrimmed from crying. Jack could be macho about a lot of things, but Samantha’s tears wasn’t one of them. He moved forward to comfort her.

“Thank God you’re all right! I’ve been a mess since I got Patty’s phone call.”

Samantha righted herself, eyes widening. “Patty called you? I’m sorry, Jack. I told her you didn’t want to date her, but—”

“Patty wasn’t calling for a date, Samantha. She was worried, said you seemed very depressed because you’d gotten your period. I thought maybe…hell, I didn’t know what to think.”

“As you can see, I’m fine. I just needed to unload this morning, and I chose Patty to bear the brunt of it. I figure you have a lot on your plate right now. And sometimes it’s easier to talk to a woman.”

“I’m never too busy for you, you know that.” He seated himself next to her on the sofa, noting how wan she appeared.

She squeezed his hand. “It was sweet of you to come rushing home. I’m sorry you were worried. Patty should never have called. I hope your business plans weren’t ruined because of me.”

“No. In fact, we got two new clients thanks to Patty. I’ll have to send her flowers or something.”

“That was quick. She just mentioned giving you the referrals this morning.”

Jack smiled knowingly. “I have a feeling Patty Bradshaw doesn’t waste time procrastinating. Hell, she practically ordered me to call the referrals right then and there.”

“Are you going to date her?”

“Hell no! Whatever gave you that idea? Life’s too short to deal with a ball-buster like your attorney friend.” Jack’s stomach rumbled just then. “I’m starving. I missed lunch today. When are we eating? Soon, I hope.”

Rising to her feet, Samantha made her way to the kitchen, Jack following close on her heels. “In just a few minutes,” she informed him, lifting the lid on the pot and inhaling deeply. “I made chicken soup. Doesn’t it smell great?”

“Soup?” His face fell. “You’re kidding. It’s got to be eighty degrees outside. Why are we eating soup?”

Indian summer had attacked New York with the vengeance of marauding Apaches on the warpath. Heat and humidity smothered the city like an unwelcome blanket.

“Because it’s comforting and I needed to be comforted. I didn’t think you’d want puree of chocolate, which was the other choice.”

He reached for her hand. “Listen, Samantha, I know I haven’t been very supportive of your decision to get pregnant, but since you’re so bent on having a baby, why don’t you consider adopting one? It seems the perfect solution to your infertility problem.”

She stiffened and pulled back. “I’m not infertile! I’m just too poor to get any more treatments. And no, I’m not borrowing any money from you, so don’t offer again.”

“Christ! I was just trying to help. There’s no need to bite my head off.”

Samantha’s sigh was desolate. “I know. It’s just…Although adoption seems like a good idea, it doesn’t allow me to experience childbirth. I want to push my own baby out of my body and see something I created. Being a man, it’s probably difficult for you to understand how important that is to a woman.”

“But with adoption, you’d have the same result—you’d have the baby you’ve always wanted.”

“Even though I’m working and earning a living, I don’t think I’ll be considered a very good candidate for adoption. I’m not married, which will go against me. And I doubt I’d pass the scrutiny they put potential parents through. I’ve heard they’re very picky.”

“It was just a thought. Maybe you can look into it, see what’s involved.”

“I guess I could. I don’t have the kind of money or connections Rosie O’Donnell does, but if love counts for anything, my child will never go wanting.”

Seeing how unhappy she was, Jack changed the subject. “Are we still going to the farm this weekend?” he asked, and Samantha finally smiled.

“Yes, and I’m really looking forward to seeing my family. You and I could both use a little R & R. In fact, why don’t we leave on Friday, if you can get away early?”

He was pleased to see her anticipating something fun for a change. “Now that I’m the boss I can do whatever I damn well please. I’ll rent the car for Friday, and we’ll leave first thing that morning.”

“I’ll let Mom know. I’m sure she’ll want to create some high-calorie meals for her favorite house-guest.”

Jack rubbed his stomach. “Man, I love your mom’s cooking. She hardly ever makes chicken soup.”

Samantha stuck out her tongue at him, and he laughed, hoping the trip to Rhinebeck would be just what she needed to make her forget about babies, publishers and anything else that made her unhappy.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE TWO-HOUR DRIVE to Rhinebeck seemed longer than usual to Samantha, owing to the traffic heading north out of the city—caused by fall foliage fans, she assumed—and her eagerness to see her family again. So when the weathered gray-and-white clapboard farmhouse finally came into view, she could barely contain her excitement.