"Aunt Stevie!" Maddie yelled the second Stephanie opened the door, hurling herself into her arms as if they'd been separated for a month instead of barely an eight-hour workday.
"How'd it go today?" Stephanie asked, as she crouched down on the floor to hug Maddie, looking over her shoulder at Lisa.
"The art camp didn't work out," Lisa said.
Maddie pushed back and looked up at Stephanie's face, her eyes big and affronted.
"They wouldn't let Lisa stay in the room with me and I didn't know anybody. So we came home and drew pictures. Let me show you!" Maddie raced off to the living room coffee table, which Stephanie could see was littered with papers and art supplies.
"You said I shouldn't push her," Lisa began.
"You did the right thing." Stephanie dropped her briefcase on a side table in the entranceway, and walked toward the living room, tossing her jacket over the back of one of the white upholstered chairs – white upholstery? What had she been thinking of with a five-year-old? She'd carry everything into her bedroom later. But she'd learned from experience that Madelyn really needed those few minutes of her absolute attention the moment Stephanie came in the door. Stephanie had dealt with a few clients like that, so she could relate.
"Let's just wait a few days and try again," Stephanie said, and Lisa nodded. But if Maddie couldn't be left for even a short period of time at the Art Center with Lisa in the very next room, Stephanie had no idea how they were going to cope with kindergarten in the fall. "Baby steps," Stephanie said aloud, reminding herself of the therapist's advice.
Maddie tugged on her arm indignantly while clutching a bunch of drawings in the other hand.
"I'm not a baby!"
"Of course you're not. Baby steps means getting used to new things a little at a time."
Maddie nodded and dropped her hands to her sides, the papers falling to the floor. "Like Mommy being gone?"
Stephanie had already decided that negotiating billion dollar deals was smooth sailing compared to navigating the grief of a five-year-old. Sometimes she had no idea what direction to go, but when in doubt the best thing to do seemed to be to just keep moving. And just like advising clients, you tell them what they needed to know, not what they wanted to hear.
"Actually, not having your mommy anymore is like a huge jump for both of us." She took Maddie's hand, and it felt so small in hers. "We jump and we might not always know where we are going to land, but it's going to be okay because we're doing it together."
"Mommy's never coming back."
"I know." She squeezed Maddie's hand and fought back the lump in her own throat. "But Mommy's right here in our hearts forever. So sometimes we take baby steps and sometimes we take a big leap."
Stephanie stepped out of her heels and kicked them aside, and gave Maddie's hand a little tug. "Come on, Maddie, take a big leap with me!"
And they jumped. Over and over across the living room floor toward the tall windows with the spectacular view of downtown Miami and Biscayne Bay. Then they turned and worked their way back to the scattered drawings, taking only the smallest baby steps. Then they did it again.
After Madelyn was tucked into bed for the night and sleeping, Stephanie pulled out the files she needed to review and sat down at the table in the dining room. But she couldn't concentrate. The stack of pictures Maddie had drawn were in a pile, and she picked them up and looked through them. Picture after picture showed Maddie holding hands with Samantha. Maddie had an uncanny ability to draw people – not that Samantha wouldn't have been easily recognizable by the long hair caught back in the habitual pony tail that both of them had once worn.
After Maddie was born, Stephanie had moved to the short style she'd worn ever since, telling herself it was just a more practical, more professional look for a lawyer. But there had been something symbolic sitting in a salon, watching the long hair being cut away. As if she were leaving behind not just her lengths of hair, but a part of herself.
She continued shuffling through the stack of pictures until she came to the one of Maddie looking up at the same figure standing beside her, but this time with short hair and what passed for Maddie's version of a business suit. And very high heels. Just the edge of the sun was peaking out from behind the clouds Maddie had littered across the sky. Stephanie set the drawings carefully down, rested her head on her arms on the table, and wept.
How could it be possible that Samantha was actually gone? Stephanie had been the risk-taker. The one who pushed the limits, ever since they were kids.
But it was Samantha who had come up with the daring plan that had changed the course of both their lives. Stephanie had sat in the restroom stall at the law school and watched as the pink line formed in the stick, and thought no, this can't be happening. There'd only been that one long weekend. They'd used protection.
It was only a month after the carefree holiday she and Samantha had spent in New York City celebrating how perfectly their futures were stretched out in front of them. And now, in an instant, everything had changed.
Stephanie had emailed her professors that she had the flu, and taken the first available flight to Wisconsin, knocking a huge but unavoidable hole in her meager savings. Late that night they sat in the small kitchen in the picture-book cottage-style house Samantha had just moved into and discussed the options. Terminating the pregnancy was out of the question. Even if Stephanie could have done it, it had only been six months since Samantha – who dreamed of a future filled with family – had received the devastating news that, thanks to a childhood illness, she would never be able to conceive. And been unceremoniously dumped by the boyfriend she'd already begun weaving dreams of forever around. Good riddance, was Stephanie's thought. But the irony of Stephanie dealing with an unplanned pregnancy while Samantha was still reeling from her own diagnosis of infertility was almost too much.
"I'm going to have to notify the firm. Instead of living in Paris this summer, I can stay here with you and have the baby. I'll put it up for adoption. You can help me find the right agency, the right family."
"You're sure you don't want to keep the baby?"
"You know I'm not cut out to be a mom. I can't take a baby along when I'm traveling from country to country, working long hours. Remember what it was like with mom dragging us from place to place, never having a real home?"
"It's a little different when you'll be making over six figures in salary and traveling first class."
"A single mom with a baby trying to make it as an international lawyer in one of the top law firms in the world? They can say all they want about being family-friendly, but it's not going to work. Giving her up is the hardest thing I'll ever do. But I know it's right."
"Wait, you already know it's a girl?"
"I just have a feeling."
"I could take care of her for you."
"And how do you think she'd feel growing up, knowing that her mother just passed her off to her sister? That I wasn't willing to change my life for her. And I'm sorry if that makes me a terrible person, but I'm not."
"What about the father – Mike? What does he say?"
"I haven't told him."
"Why not? You shouldn't have to deal with this yourself. It took two of you, you know."
"Samantha, this was just a weekend fling. We both agreed. We don't even like each other, not really. He's from this rich powerful old money family and once I tell him I'd be handing over control of my future to him. No, I need to figure out what to do before I say anything to him."
"But you are going to tell him, right?"
"Of course. Once the arrangements are all made, I'll tell him."
"Stevie?"
"What?"
"Okay, this might sound crazy, but . . . suppose instead of strangers adopting her, what if I was her mom?"
"Sam, I told you why I don't think that will work. Having you raise my child for me while I just go pursue my career -"
"Not your child. My child."
"You mean you adopt the baby? I don't see how that's any different, really."
"No, Stevie. What I'm saying is, you give birth to the baby here in Madison, Wisconsin. As me."
"You mean -"
"Yes. We switch. You go back to law school. The baby's not due until, what . . ." she paused and counted out the months . . . "the end of August, right? I bet you won't even be showing by graduation. Then instead of going to Paris, you just come here."
"And where will you go, if I'm here as you?"
The light brightened in her sister's eyes. "Well, that's obvious – I just go to Paris, as you! They're not expecting you to work this summer, right? Just practice your French while you study for the Bar exam. So you study here, and I go there."
"We switch places." It was a crazy idea. It couldn't possibly work. Could it?
"This is serious, Sammie. We'd be falsifying a birth certificate. You'd be using my passport to travel."
Samantha shrugged. "Well, you're the lawyer."
"Not yet."
"Look, Stevie, I'm never going to be able to get pregnant. You know what it means to me to have a child, to be a family. It's all I've ever wanted. And who are we hurting? She'll be my baby, Stevie. Mine. And you know how much I'll love her. She'll grow up right here in this beautiful town, and you'll know she's safe and loved and wanted. And you'll be her Aunt Stevie. Aunt Stevie the high-powered international lawyer with the amazing career."
Stevie had tried to think of reasons why it wouldn't work, and her sister shot down every one. Yes, Samantha would be a single unwed mother kindergarten teacher – wasn't that a problem? But with Madison being one of the most liberal, progressive eco-friendly cities not just in the Midwest but in the entire country, Samantha was confident no one would judge her. She'd just tell them she had a romance that didn't work out when she was in New York City over Christmas break. And decided to keep her baby. Stephanie could help her out financially, ease the financial burden of raising a child on a single income. Take over the mortgage that was a stretch right now for Sam to pay.
One by one she disposed of every logical argument. And Stephanie started to imagine the life her sister and the baby could have together, in the sweet little cottage Sammie was so proud of. How she'd grow up and go to school at the same school where Samantha was a teacher. She pictured the tidy little house cluttered with toys, and imagined the joy on her sister's face. Birthday parties, school plays, Christmas mornings. It was everything her sister had ever wanted, and Stephanie had the power to give it to her. And to give the baby the kind of life every child deserved – being so loved and wanted.
"Look," Samantha said, "it's just the same as if I adopted her, but less complicated. And no one will ever judge you for giving up your baby. Or act like there's something different about her because she's adopted. She'll just be mine."
"Wait," Stephanie said, "what about Mike?"
Samantha considered, then shook her head. "You can't ever tell him. I know what I said earlier, but . . . no, if she's really going to be MY baby, then Mike can never find out."
"You're right," Stevie said slowly. "If we're going to pull this off, then no one can ever know."
"Pinky swear," Samantha said and they locked fingers.
"Pinky swear." Stevie took a deep breath.
"Samantha, you're going to be such a great mom."
And Samantha had been a great mom, Stephanie thought as she got up from the table and walked over to the window of her high-rise condo, staring out at the Miami skyline. Sam had been the best mother in the world. Stevie couldn't have any regrets, especially not now since those short five years had been the happiest in her sister's whole life. A life that had been cut short way too soon.
Everything would be fine. And it was unimaginable how empty her heart would have been after losing Sam if she hadn't had Madelyn.
She just had to get through the next few weeks working with Mike, then he'd be out of their lives forever and she and Maddie could move forward. Because there was no way now that she could ever unravel the decision she and her sister had made in the little kitchen of Samantha's cozy little house in Madison, Wisconsin.
Mike could never find out that he had a daughter.
Author's Note:
What do you think about Stephanie and Samantha's decision not to tell Mike that Stephanie was pregnant? What about now? Can Stephanie continue to keep this secret? Should she?