Twin Expectations

“I don’t suppose you know what sort of costume Eric Statler will be wearing? He’s the one I need to avoid.”

Bridget shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this. If you hadn’t hit me with, ‘The baby needs to rest…”’

“You’ll have a blast. There are bound to be loads of eligible bachelors there. We’re talking about the future father of my niece or nephew. I want you to choose wisely, and a larger sample of men can’t hurt.”

“Yeah, like I had a say in the father of your baby.”

Bridget narrowed her eyes. “At least my baby’s father won’t be around to make my life miserable. What if Ted got you pregnant, then wanted to stick around? What if he wanted to marry you? Or, even worse, what if he sued you for custody?”

Liz’s stomach took a sudden lurch. “Gee, I hadn’t thought of that. If Ted got me pregnant, I could never tell him.”

Bridget started hyperventilating. “Elizabeth Ann Van Zandt, you cannot steal a man’s sperm without his consent. Whoever you pick as your ‘donor,’ you have to tell him about it. How would you like it if someone stole one of your eggs and made a baby without telling you? DNA is private property—”

“Okay, okay, put a hold on the rant. I wasn’t really planning to get pregnant without telling the guy, whoever he might turn out to be. I just haven’t gotten that far. I have to find a good candidate first. Then I’ll come up with a strategy.”

“This isn’t a game, Liz. These are lives we’re playing with. Don’t do it lightly. Please.”

Liz was taken aback by her sister’s vehemence. Bridget had become much more emotional since her pregnancy, and Liz knew hormones were at least partly to blame. But something else was afoot.

“Bridget,” she said, broaching the subject as cautiously as she knew how, “you’re not regretting your pregnancy, are you?”

Bridget’s face went all soft. “No, of course not. I love this baby so much it hurts, and I can’t wait till I can hold him or her in my arms. But knowing that I’ve committed this kid to live without a father…I just want you to be fully aware of all the consequences, not just the good ones. Don’t lose sight of the big picture.”

Liz gave Bridget a careful hug so as not to smear her makeup or ruin her hair. “Don’t worry—I won’t.”

A horn tooted outside. Liz hadn’t wanted to drive wearing the costume, so she’d called a cab. “Wish me good hunting,” she said as she grabbed her tiny evening bag and whisked out the door.

FOR ONCE IN HER LIFE, Liz felt completely out of place at a party. She didn’t know a soul here at this huge, gaudy mansion. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered her, but her ghastly performance at the Oilman’s Ball was still fresh on her mind. The last thing she wanted to do was something embarrassing that would reflect badly on Bridget, who had shown extraordinary confidence in her by allowing her to come here at all.