Free The Unfinished Child by Theresa Shea Page A

to go back to work one day was a black cloud on the horizon.
    Now, sitting with her third child growing inside of her, she wondered if she could buy another ten years at home with this baby. By then she’d be forty-nine, almost ready to retire. The thought did not bring much relief.
    “Are you okay, Marie?”
    Marie startled. How beautiful Elizabeth looked with her dark hair fanned gently off of her face, her lipstick perfectly highlighting her complexion. No wonder the boys had always been drawn to her.
    “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I was somewhere else there for a minute.” She leaned back and put her feet up on the coffee table. Sunlight filtered in from the kitchen window illuminating the wood floor in wide shafts. The clock ticked loudly on the wall above the sink where the smell of tuna hung like fog over the countertops.
    “I was just sitting here thinking that you look a bit piqued,” Elizabeth said. “A bit green around the gills, if you know what I mean. It seems to me that I’ve seen that look on you before.”
    Marie made eye contact before quickly looking away.
    “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
    Marie nodded again.
    “Look at me.”
    Marie lifted her chin to be examined.
    “I’ve got a funny feeling something’s going on here,” Elizabeth said. “And from the look of things, I’m going to take a wild guess.” She gave Marie the once-over with her eyes. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
    The air escaped from Marie’s lungs. It was an accident , she wanted to say. I didn’t do it on purpose.
    “And you’re not even bloated or bruised from trying.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Lucky you.”
    “I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” she whispered.
    Elizabeth turned away and stared outside the sliding glass door to where sparrows flitted in and out of the densely gnarled hedge.
    “What are you sorry about?”
    I’m sorry it’s not you. “I don’t know. I’m just feeling like I’ve messed up.” Marie splayed her hands out onto her thighs. “I think I’m a little old for an unplanned pregnancy, don’t you?”
    They sat quietly for a moment. From downstairs came the sound of the television and the girls’ laughter.
    “Remember when you found out you were pregnant with Sophia and I’d been trying for two years to get pregnant, without any luck?”
    Marie nodded. A cloud passed before the sun and the room fell into shadows.
    “And do you remember what you said? You said, ‘Am I going to have to stop seeing you for nine months?’ As if we could have gone nine days without seeing each other!”
    Marie smiled weakly. But something had changed once she’d had the girls. They still talked on the phone regularly, but sometimes months went by and they didn’t see each other. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I can’t help it. It’s just not fair. I know you’ve always been happy for me, but I can’t help thinking that it should be you.”
    The sun came out again and the room grew to twice its size.
    “When’s the baby due?” Elizabeth asked.
    “Late August, early September.”
    The phone rang. Relieved, Marie jumped to her feet and ran across the kitchen to the desk against the far wall.
    “Sorry,” she said, returning a minute later. “That was Frances. Again. She says to say hi.”
    “How’s she doing?”
    “Well, you know Frances. She says she’s fine, but I don’t think she’d tell me otherwise. I think she’s finding it a challenge being home alone all day with Max, especially since Craig is back at work full-time. As you know, Frances likes to be in control, and one thing being a mother teaches you is how little control you really have. If you don’t like a job, you can quit. If you’re unhappy in your marriage, you can get a divorce. But you can’t walk away from your kids. Once you have them, you’re stuck with them.” Marie ended abruptly, suddenly self-conscious. Her friend looked ready to bolt from the house.
    “Not stuck exactly but . . .” She’d