Emily stared out the rainsplattered window of the modest terraced house in Bristol. Summer rain drummed on the panes, a dull thrum that lingered even as a shy sun tried to peek through. She had just returned from work, intending to slice vegetables and simmer a stew, when she realised her daughter Lucy would soon be home.
She thought, *When Lucy grows up and starts seeing boys, I wont like this James fellow of hers. Hes older, secretive, never meets my gaze.* How could she tell Lucy? The girl was truly in love for the first time; if Emily ruined the relationship she would become Lucys worst enemy. She had tried to hint that James wasnt right for her, but Lucy brushed it off. *If only Id known the proper way to intervene*
Emily had raised Lucy alone; shed never married. Life had taken that turn. At university, in her third year, shed dated Mike, a fellow student who never finished his degree he was expelled at the end of that year. Emily had been thrilled at the thought of a child, and shed told him.
*I cant think of anything else to say,* Mike snarled, *how am I supposed to know that the babys mine? I dont want children.* And with that he vanished.
Emily was left reeling, unable to explain that she had nobody else. Mike had never even looked her way on campus; he flitted between other girls before his expulsion.
*Lucy, somethings happened,* Margaret, Emilys own mother, asked when she saw her weeping alone in her bedroom.
*He left me, Mum and Im pregnant,* Lucy blurted.
*What? Ive warned you a dozen times to use your head! Youre in your third year, you should be finishing your degree, not raising a child. That baby will ruin your life, and I wont be there to help you. Go to the clinic, speak to a doctor youre an adult now and must face the consequences,* Margaret snapped, her cold stare cutting deeper than any word.
The next morning Emily trudged to the GPs surgery. The waiting room was nearly empty; a young woman cradling her sixyearold son sat opposite her. As the door opened and a patient left, the woman rose, clutching her belly.
*Hold on a moment, love, Ill be quick.*
The girl, freckles dusting her nose, fidgeted with her shoes. When Emily entered the examination room, the child glanced up, met her eyes, and gave a shy smile.
*Miss, why do you look so sad? Are you ill?* she asked.
*No, just* Emily forced a smile, unwilling to explain.
*Do you have any brothers or sisters?* the girl pressed.
*No* Emily replied.
*My mum says children are happiness. Im her happiness, even when she scolds me. She always says I must smile and never cry. Yesterday Tom pulled my braids and I cried, but Mum told me to grin. I smiled and Tom gave me a candy. Now were friends again.*
Emily felt a strange thaw in her chest. The pure honesty of the child sliced through the gloom.
*What am I doing here?* she thought. *Mike walked out, Margaret opposes me, yet I wont let any of this break me.*
Outside, the girls mother emerged, smiling, hand in hand with the child. Their simple warmth surged through Emily, and she bolted from the clinic. Her feet carried her to Eleanor, her estranged motherinlaw, who lived a short drive away. Though Margaret had never spoken to Eleanor since the divorce, Emily visited the elderly woman, who adored her granddaughter.
*Give birth, my dear. Even if your mother objects, Ill help you. You can stay with me. Youll manage, and Ill be by your side. Dont carry guilt; thank me later,* Eleanor cooed, patting Lucys head.
Emilys mind swirled. *Grandma was right. Lucy is my joy, my whole world. I cant imagine life without her.*
The lock clicked; Lucy slipped into the hallway, eyes red from crying.
*Whats the matter, love? Sit down and tell me,* Margaret said, pulling her onto a kitchen chair.
*James?* Lucy sniffed.
*Yes,* she sobbed, her hysteria rising anew.
Emily handed her a glass of water; Lucy drank, Margarets hand soothing her shoulder. All three clung together, tears spilling unchecked.
Later, Lucy confessed that James was married, his wife living in Manchester with two children. Hed been on a longterm assignment in Bristol, renting a flat. Lucy had never seen another woman there. One day his wife arrived unexpectedly, seized his phone while he was in the shower, read their messages, and traced Lucys number.
Emily felt no bitterness, only a grim relief that the truth had emerged. She trusted Lucy would find real love someday.
*What did you do?* Margaret asked.
*She called, asked to meet. I went to a café. James wife never said a word about us; she simply asked me to leave him alone for the sake of her kids. It hit me like a bolt from the blue.* Lucys voice trembled with indignation, but the tears had stopped.
*Dont blame yourself, love. Hes a liar, and thank God the truth surfaced. If youd known he was married, youd have walked away,* Margaret soothed.
*I told his wife Id cut off contact and blacklisted him,* Lucy declared firmly.
*Good girl.* Margaret smiled, though her eyes were wet.
Then Lucys voice cracked again.
*Mum, I Im pregnant.*
*How far along?* Margaret asked, steadying herself.
*About eight weeks,* Lucy whispered, eyes dropping.
The words hammered Emilys heart. The cycle repeated, but now Lucy needed her mothers unwavering support.
*Itll be alright, dear. Youll give birth, and Ill be there. This child is ours, our grandchild. Well love him together,* Margaret promised.
*Youre the best, Mum,* Lucy replied, clinging to her.
Months later, Emily held Lucys newborn son in a tiny beige bundle tied with a blue ribbon. They arrived home to a living room draped in balloons and flowers, Eleanor having turned the nursery into a wonderland of cribs, prams, and rattles. Emily and Lucy exchanged radiant smiles. The house thrummed with the sound of new life, and as the old saying goes, the happy always smile.
