Barbara Delinsky

Not My Daughter


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in on her history. Her age and Lily’s, both, were a matter of record. Besides, Susan had laid it out when she hired Amy to head the school clinic. I hid my pregnancy for five months. I risked my own health and my baby’s because I didn’t know where to turn. I want our students to have a place to go when they can’t go to their parents. I don’t want any sexual problems ignored.

      In answer to Lily now, she smiled sadly. ‘I was lucky enough not to throw up in public, so I had a little more time. My sport was track. I wore my top loose. But it’s hard to hide things in a locker room. My teammates saw it first. They were my Abby.’

      ‘Why did she do that?’ Lily cried, but Susan could only shake her head.

      ‘It’s done. There’s no going back.’ She took the car keys from her pocket. ‘I think you should go home for the day. Let things settle. We’ll have more perspective later.’

      What she was hoping, of course, was that Abby’s announcement hadn’t actually been heard. It was pure denial on her part, the mother in her. With her emotions seesawing between present and past, a part of her just wanted to hide.

      But she had barely returned to her office when the questions began, first from the teacher whose class Lily had just missed, then from another teacher wanting to report what her students were saying. By the time she reached the lunchroom, the looks she received said that word was spreading fast.

      Mary Kate and Jess avoided her – but they generally did at school, and with Susan’s approval. They had discussed the issue of their relationship when Susan was first named principal. Her closeness to these girls was almost as tricky as her being Lily’s mother.

      The fact that Mary Kate and Jess were with other friends now – and that none was looking at them strangely – told Susan that Lily was the only one who had been outed. For now. Knowing Mary Kate and Jess as she did, she figured they were stressing about that.

      Abby never made it to lunch, which wasn’t unusual. A student whose schedule was tight often wolfed something down while running between classes. Not that Susan would have been able to talk with her here. What could she have said without making things worse? How could you do that to a good friend – and knowing about this all along – and trying to get pregnant yourself?

      She couldn’t possibly be objective, not with her heart bleeding for her daughter. Lily would be on display, all alone, when she returned to school tomorrow. Susan could only imagine who else would know by then.

      It was a long day. Only a few other direct questions came, which made Susan nervous. She knew her staff; news like this would fly through the faculty lounge. Friends might be keeping their distance from Susan out of understanding or perhaps respect, but others – her detractors – would be gloating.

      She met with two teachers after school. Both, new hires, were in her office for evaluation conferences. Neither mentioned Lily – but, of course, they were more worried about their jobs than about Susan’s pregnant daughter. After the teachers came a pair of parent meetings, one about a drug problem, the other about an alleged plagiarism. They, too, had greater worries.

      It did put things in perspective, Susan thought, but by the time she got home, she was discouraged. She wanted to protect her daughter but couldn’t, and though she knew that the girl had brought this on herself, her own heart broke.

      Lily had been studying, as evidenced by the scatter of books on her bed, but she was sleeping now. Letting her be, Susan went to the den and turned on the TV. She had to wait through stories on the economy, a celebrity murder and a report on global warming before Rick appeared.

      He was covering post-cholera Zimbabwe, in as sobering a report as Susan had heard. Poverty, homelessness, hunger – more perspective here. Lily wasn’t poor, homeless or hungry. But that didn’t mean they weren’t in crisis.

      Remote in hand, she waited until he was into his signoff before freezing his image on the screen. Then she tossed the remote aside, picked up the cordless, and, with her eyes on his handsome, sunburned face, punched in his number. There was one ring, then another of a slightly different tone as the call was transferred. After five more rings, he picked up.

      ‘Lily?’ he asked with endearing hope, his rich voice remarkably clear given how far away he was.

      ‘It’s me. That was an amazing piece you just did.’

      ‘Sad that someone has to do it,’ he said, but he sounded pleased to hear her voice. ‘Hold on a sec, hun.’ She im agined him pressing the phone to his denim shirt while he spoke to whomever – his producer, a cameraman, the WHO agent he had just interviewed. When he returned, he spoke in an uneven cadence that suggested he was walking, probably looking for privacy. She imagined he stopped on the far side of the media van.

      ‘We thought things would be better after the cholera epidemic,’ he said. ‘It seemed like the world had finally taken notice of what was happening here. But conditions now are worse than ever. Tell me something good, Susie. I need to hear something happy.’

      Susan had only one thing to tell. ‘Lily’s pregnant.’

      The silence that followed was so long, she feared they had lost the connection. ‘Rick?’

      ‘I’m thinking you wouldn’t joke about something like that.’

      ‘Well, it isn’t cholera or poverty. But it is an issue.’

      There was another pause. Then a frightened, ‘Was she raped?’

      ‘Oh God, no.’

      ‘Who’s the guy?’

      ‘She won’t tell. And no, she hasn’t been dating anyone special,’ Susan rushed on before he could ask. ‘I see her at school. I see her on the weekends. Usually, if I miss something, I hear it from someone else.’

      ‘Why won’t she tell?’

      Because she’s stubborn? Misguided? Loyal? Susan sighed. ‘Because the guy was only a means to an end.’ She filled him in as best she could, but even after nine days, the story seemed bizarre. ‘She and her friends just decided the time was right to have a baby. Mary Kate and Jess are pregnant, too.’

      She heard a bewildered oath, then an astonished, ‘They made a pact?’

      There it was, the word she didn’t want to hear. ‘I wouldn’t call it that.’

      ‘What would you call it?’

      She tried to think of a better word. An agreement? A promise? A deal? But that was just a way to pretty things up. ‘A pact,’ she finally conceded.

      ‘What do we know about pact behavior?’ asked Rick the journalist.

      ‘Mostly that Lily isn’t your typical candidate,’ replied Susan the educator. Pact behavior was a school administrator’s greatest fear. One kid with a problem was bad enough. But three? ‘Kids collaborate with one or more friends to do something forbidden. They do it in secret, and it’s usually self-destructive.’

      ‘But Lily is strong. She’s self-confident.’

      ‘She’s also a teenager with very close friends. They convinced each other that they could be great mothers, better than the ones they worked for last summer.’

      ‘They did it because of a summer job?’

      ‘No, but that was the catalyst.’

      ‘They’re only seventeen,’ he protested. Susan pictured his eyes. They were blue, alternately steely and soft, always mesmerizing. ‘How far along is she?’

      ‘Twelve weeks. She only told me last week. And no, I didn’t see anything. There’s still practically nothing to see. I would have called you right away, only she asked me to wait. I don’t know if that was out of superstition or fear.’

      ‘Fear?’

      ‘That you’d suggest she terminate the pregnancy.’

      Quietly,