Chapter Text
Ann Evans gave Isobel Evans-Bracken a tight hug over the threshold.
"How are you doing?" Mom asked as she released the hug too soon, not soon enough.
Isobel smiled politely. "As well as I can be." Her tone was overly curt. She wasn't playing the part of the grieved widow very well.
Mom's brows tilted in sympathy. "And the baby?"
Isobel put a hand on her abdomen. Mom had been one of the first to know. "Alive and kicking — well, you know what I mean."
Mom beamed. She led Isobel inside the house, and they sat on the sofa facing the dormant fireplace. "Everyone at the Bridge society is so happy for you," she said. Mom poured pink lemonade into two glasses and pushed one across the coffee table towards Isobel. "It's such a blessing that Noah was able to give you a family before he passed."
Isobel didn't let her eye twitch. The hard part about being around Mom was that she kept reminding her of Noah. "Actually, Mom, that's what I wanted to talk to you about today."
Mom nodded for her to continue.
Isobel sipped on the lemonade. Too sweet, much too sweet. She licked her lips. "The baby isn't Noah's."
Mom's eyes widened and her smile melted away. "Oh —" She cut herself off and brought a hand up to her face.
"Oh come on, Mom," Isobel set the too-sweet lemonade glass down on the coffee table and wiped the condensation on her pantleg. "Don't act so surprised. You must have known. Noah's been gone for months."
Mom's gaze drifted around the living room, unseeing. "I suppose —" She cut herself off again with a swig of lemonade that she began to wish was actually wine.
"It's fine," Isobel said. "Everything is fine."
"Are you seeing someone?"
"I'm not."
"So you're going to be a single mother?" Mom's voice was a half-tone short of accusation.
"I may be single but I'm not alone!"
"It's going to be so hard, Isobel."
"I'm not alone." Isobel took Mom's hand. They shared a look. Of course Mom was worried about her, of course. She knew Mom would get uppity about having a baby by herself. She didn't need to come. She didn't need her mother's support, but she wanted it all the same. How could she not?
"I thought you were more careful than this."
"I —" Isobel straightened her back. "I became pregnant on purpose. I decided that it was time to start a family, so I found a donor."
Some of Mom's open disapproval evaporated, but not all of it. "You don't know what you're getting into, but I'll help you." She squeezed Isobel's hand. "I'll help you through everything."
Isobel hugged her and sighed softly. "Thank you."
She would never expect motherhood to be easy — especially with an alien child — but it was a challenge that she wanted to face head on, and with her family by her side. She had grown enough to know that family support didn't undermine her independence, or her strength as an individual. With a wellspring of determination inside of her, Isobel knew that she was going to be a good mom.
When Mom pulled away she seemed more relaxed, but a question just barely pinched her features. "So, who is the donor?"
Isobel hesitated. That was the detail that Mom would find most distasteful. Isobel sipped on the too-sweet lemonade as she formulated her response. "Someone I trust," she said.
Mom nodded uneasily. "Are you going to let him be involved?"
"Yes, I am."
Mom looked up at the pictures on the mantle above the fireplace. There were framed photos of Max and Isobel with their family. One of the photos was the prom picture of Isobel, Max, and Michael together. When she looked back to Isobel, Mom's face was neutral. "Who is the donor, Isobel?"
Isobel pressed her lips together. Mom wasn't going to make her feel bad about her choices — Isobel wouldn't let her. "It's Michael Guerin," she said lightly, with all the love she felt for him.