July

Gab was staring out the window on the bus ride back to Melbourne, mindless watching the scenery pass by: paddocks green from the winter rains, cows, horses, sheep … the occasional wallaby. Troubled thoughts of her conversations with Melinda turned in her mind. A flutter in her abdomen drew her attention.

Was it … ?

She laid her palm across on her abdomen. And she felt the gentlest, subtlest fluttery bump against her hand. There it was again! Her heart fluttered then too, and she couldn’t suppress a grin; happy tears welled up in her eyes. She put both hands on her belly.

And she suddenly realised how badly she wanted to prove Melinda wrong. This was an opportunity … an opportunity to start again, to start her own family and to prove that she could do it. This baby was the beginning of something different. With this baby, Gab wouldn’t be Gina’s daughter so much as she would be this child’s mother. She would be the foundational locus of a new family; this baby would be her family. She wanted that so badly. She didn’t know how to make it happen or how to be a good mother, or whether she could do it, but she wanted it so, so much. She wanted someone to whom she could give what she had never received from her own family, from her mother—space to be heard, encouragement, belief, companionship. She imagined being the person who believed in her child unreservedly. Could she?

She felt strongly then how meaningful life could be; how full of purpose. It wasn’t a hollow drive, an empty structure of heavy responsibility that lay upon her without substance; it was whole. It was a purpose that began inside her very self and radiated outwards with strength and potent energy. She realised for a moment, in that moment, she had found herself. It was a tenuous grasp; it wasn’t permanent or static. But it was real.

***

“Freya, I’m going to keep my baby!” It was the first thing Gab said as she entered Freya’s room, back from her trip to Wattle Gully, back from James and Melinda’s, back from the valley of indecision and haze. She had felt her baby’s first kick on the bus ride back to the city, and that was that. She knew.

Freya rose up from her bed, her hands over her mouth in surprised delight.

“Really, Gab? Really? Congratulations!” She came over and hugged her friend. “I mean, I would have supported your decision either way, one hundred percent … but a real live baby!! You’re going to be amazing!”

Gab looked down. “Thanks. Do you think so?”

“I know it! How did you decide?”

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Gab grinned.

“Felt its first kick on the way home!”

“Ohhhh!” Freya whispered and hugged her again.

“It made it so real, Freya,” said Gab. “It’s not just an idea anymore. It’s real.” In that moment, Gab felt warm, whole, decisive. “And besides,” she added, a little sheepishly, “I want to prove to Melinda wrong.” Gab went and sat on Freya’s bed.

“Melinda is Mr. C’s wife, right?” said Freya, plopping into her blue and purple furry beanbag. “Why? What did she do?”

“She just doesn’t like the whole situation,” said Gab. “She was trying to fix it, I think. She’s convinced my baby needs a father in its life. And she was telling me how hard and exhausting parenting is, so I shouldn’t try to do it on my own. I didn’t tell her I hadn’t even decided on keeping the baby yet.” Gab unconsciously had her hand on her slightly protruding abdomen. “She would have fainted!”

“It’s not for her to judge!” Freya exclaimed. “It’s not her life! But what about Mr. C.? He’s a good guy, right? What did he do while she was busy intruding?”

“Well, she mostly said those things when he wasn’t around … ”

“No!! The shrew! What else did she say?”

Gab laughed at Freya’s vocal disapproval.

“She invited me to come live with them once the baby is born.”

“Really? What did you say?” asked Freya, her dark eyebrows raised high.

“I said no.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. It was just … I don’t know. Coming from Melinda, it made me feel … crowded in. Claustrophobic.” Gab paused. “But, she didn’t mean to impose, Freya. She was only trying to help. So I feel really bad for getting mad at her, and for saying no to the invitation,” confessed Gab.

“It’s okay to feel mad when someone who hardly knows you thinks they have a right to make decisions for you!” maintained Freya, with characteristic insight. “And moving in there is a big decision. You have to do what’s best for you, not what Melinda thinks is best for you.”

Gab was quiet for a minute and began chewing on her nails distractedly.

“Are you okay?” Freya asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Gab regained her focus. “It wasn’t all bad. It kind of felt like a holiday most of the time and Mr. C. was great. And, oh my gosh, Freya,” Gab smiled at her memories of Libby and Tyler, “their kids are hilarious! If my kid is that funny, I’ll be laughing all the time.”

“What did they do?”

“Oh, I dunno, just said funny, unfiltered stuff. Tyler, the four-year-old, he wants me to call the baby Tyler, after him. They must have heard me talking with their mum and dad about the baby, because they just asked me straight out and were so honest about it. They weren’t embarrassed at all.”

“Cute!”

“Yeah. And a little bit exhausting too. But that made me realise something else,” Gab added.

“What’s that?” asked Freya, wondering in awe what other epiphanies Gab might have had over that weekend.

“If I’m keeping the baby, I want to stay at uni too; I really do. It was only when I thought about moving back to Wattle Gully that I realised it ... It’s taken so much to get here Freya, and I don’t want to give it up.”

“This is so good,” said Freya. “You are so strong.”

“I don’t know if I can do it, though. Is it even possible?”

“You won’t know until you try,” reasoned Freya.

“I can’t believe this baby is real, Freya,” said Gab. “And it’s mine.”