Too late
Laura Bennett stepped out of the obstetricians practice feeling utterly bewildered. She stared at the official slip once more: Pregnancy 7 to 8 weeks. How could this be? How did I not notice a thing? she wondered, walking toward her battered Mini, Did I forget a pill? What now? Give birth? Im fortythree, and this?
She drifted home lost in thought. At a traffic light the world seemed to pause; the cars rolled forward only when a distant driver honked a thunderous warning that jolted her back to reality. Inside her flat on a Camden street, she buried herself in chores, trying to push the uneasy thoughts aside.
After lunch Lucyher daughterpopped in briefly, eager to share news.
Mum, Ive got a surprise for you! she announced, perching at the kitchen table.
Come on, spill it, Laura said, curiosity bright in her eyes.
Lucy, Sam proposed to me! the girl beamed, and I said yes!
Congratulations, my darling! Laura whispered, tears spilling as she embraced Lucy. The fiancé was a smart, driven, steady, modestly ambitious twentyfiveyearold named Sam Whitfieldwelleducated, polite, and financially comfortable for his age. Hed been independent from his parents for years. He and Lucy had been together for almost three years, and Laura had seen enough proof of his sincere intentions toward her daughter.
What about the wedding? Laura asked, pouring steaming tea into two mugs.
We havent set a date, Lucy shrugged, maybe next summer.
Will you tell your father? Laura pressed, eyes fixed on Lucy.
I dont know, Lucy frowned, honestly, I dont even want to
Dont be like that, Laura chided gently, your father still loves you. I get that youre hurt, but people part waysdoesnt mean you must cut him off. Ive forgiven him, and you should too. Invite him to the wedding, please.
Mom, how can you be so calm? Lucy snapped, He left you for someone else! He spent a whole year cheating with his secretary! How could you ever forgive him?
Laura sighed, We spent twentytwo years together, raised youlook at you, a bright, beautiful girl. Those were happy years, and Im grateful to your father. But he fell in love with another woman. The heart cannot be ordered
She tried to explain, What else could I have done? Throw a tantrum, smash dishes? Keep a grudge? Hate him forever? Because his feelings cooled? Its absurd, Lucy, dont you see?
No, Mum, I dont understand, Lucy shook her head, If Sam treated me like that Id I dont even know what Id do!
Laura gave up arguing; Lucys fiery spirit would never see her point. Youth sees things differently, after all.
When Lucy left, Laura returned to the kitchen, washed the dishes, and pulled a slab of beef from the freezer for dinner. Her mind kept circling the unexpected pregnancy, wondering what to do. Giving birth at her age, alone, was terrifying, yet the yearning to be a mother againcaring for a little life, walking that hard yet joyous pathfilled her with a strange longing.
She fetched an old album from a high shelf, leafing through photographs of Lucys infancy. Tiny Lucy, in soft onesies, perched on her grandmothers lap, smiling a toothless grin. Then a later picture: Lucy in a pretty dress at the gates of a city park, the day she fell from a swing, needed stitches on a knee that left a fine, threadthin scar. Another: Lucy on her first day of school, clutching a bouquet, standing beside her parents, with her brother Sam (now Sam Whitfield) looking solemn. Young Laura, slim, in a light trouser suit, highheeled sandals, a long fringe brushing her eyebrowsdid she ever really wear such a hairstyle?
Later, a fifthgrade Lucy playing SnowGirl in a school play. Laura, unable to find a suitable costume, sewed a glittering silver dress and a rabbitfur stole herself, three sleepless nights at the sewing machine, and the result was spectacular. Another photo showed the whole familyLaura, Mark (her exhusband), and grownup Lucyon a sunkissed Cornish beach, all bronzed and laughing.
A wave of melancholy washed over Laura. Shed always believed her family was the strongest, most united one. Once, Mark and she were inseparable, sharing dreams and plans, a life built together. Years passed, Lucy blossomed, Marks career advanced, they bought a house, a car, traveled. Laura opened a boutique specialising in wedding gownsa longheld dream realised. It seemed endless, until the cruel twist: after Lucys birth Laura could never carry a child to term again. A first pregnancy ended in early miscarriage; a second reached fourteen weeks before a devastating diagnosis of severe fetal abnormalities forced an emergency termination. One night she wept in a hospital ward, watched the sunrise through barred windows, and decided she would not try again.
She recalled the bitter ironyonce she had youth, a loving husband, security, and a burning desire for another child. Yet nothing went as planned. Now, when stability had evaporated, fate tossed her a surprise pregnancy like a cruel joke.
When Mark announced he was leaving, Laura wasnt stunned. Shed suspected a lover on the side, but Mark denied it, accusing her of wild imagination. She launched a frantic campaign to win him back, even offering seductive home stripteases, but Mark refused therapy, calling it nonsense. He eventually packed his things, filed for divorce, and Laura finally accepted the end after a painful, drawnout conversation that left her reeling.
She could never understand why Mark chose the young, curvy secretary Oliviaa woman with siliconefilled lips, long false lashes, and a plunging neckline. Laura begged him to replace her, but he shrugged, Olivia does the job, shes sharp, I cant lose her now. Hiring someone new would be a hassle. Laura sensed Olivia was not the prized employee Mark pretended she was.
Later, Laura discovered she was right: Mark had swapped her for a plastic doll, shattering years of building. She tried to move on. Mark left their twobed flat in the city to a countryside house with Olivia, while Laura stayed in the city flatconvenient for work and close to Lucy and Sams rented apartment. The thought of a stranger living where their happy memories once stood gnawed at her, though she had agreed to the arrangement.
The following Saturday, Laura visited her old friend Noraa lifelong mate from the days their children attended the same nursery. Nora delightedly poured a splash of brandy onto a tray. Lets have a dram, Lara. Ive cooked a roast, perfect with a nip of brandy! she winked, pulling tiny glasses from a cupboard.
Thanks, Nora, but I cant, Laura replied, Im pregnant.
Noras eyebrows rose. Oh? Youre still seeing Mark, right? Or have you found a lover?
No, Nora! Its Marks child. We had that one night a couple of months agocandles, wine, lace He didnt hold back. And now Laura gestured at her belly.
Nurse, youre brave! What will you do?
I dont know, Laura sighed, I only learned yesterday. I cant make sense of it
Nora, pragmatic, warned, Its late for you, Lara. Raising a child on your own at fiftyplus is tough. Maybe youll need maintenance but thats your choice.
Laura left, her thoughts a tangled knot.
She drove to Lucys flat. Hey, Mum! Lucy called, Come in. Want a coffee?
No, love, not today. I need to talk. Is Sam home?
No, hes at his parents, helping with renovations. Lucy replied.
Laura confessed the pregnancy. Mum, do you really want this baby? Lucy asked.
I do, I do, but Im scared, Laura whispered.
What does the doctor say?
He says everythings fine, the babys developing well. I lost two children in my twenties, never got a clear answer. Im terrified of going through that again. Ive read horror stories onlinepeople say its dangerous after forty. Im not sure Im ready.
Listen, Mum, Lucy urged, you must get thorough checkups, focus on your health. The doctors today are advanced; many women give birth past forty now. If youre fit, why not?
Laura nodded slowly. Maybe I should try
Lucy added, Whatever you decide, Sam and I will support you. Tell your father?
No, I wont. Its pointless.
The conversation steadied Laura, granting a sliver of peace. Medical exams showed no serious health issues, and she chose to keep the baby. She mused, Should I tell Mark? He doesnt need to knowhes irrelevant now. Shed only met him a couple of times since the split, when he collected a few boxes from the flat. Six months later he turned up at her boutique.
Lara, Im here for the house papers. I called, you didnt answer. I went to the city flat, couldnt get in. Did you change the locks? Mark asked, trying not to stare at her rounded belly.
Yes, I changed them. Did you think you could just wander into my life whenever you liked? Weve settled that. I have no documents for you.
Looks like youve moved on quicklymarried someone? Mark teased.
No, I havent, and I wont. My life isnt your concern. I have work, no time for chatter, Laura snapped, closing the door.
Mark left, muttering, I wonder how far along she is could she have found someone else? Shed never do that. This is my child, I feel it in my heart. He returned to his office, the image of Lauras bump haunting him.
Later, Olivia sauntered into his office. Hun, Im starving, lets go eat out! she pouted, perching on the edge of his desk.
Later, Olivia, Im busy, he replied, eyes glued to his screen.
Come on, Sam, cant you put everything aside for me? she whined.
Go alone if you must, Sam said, dismissing her.
Olivia huffed out, and Sam returned to his work, though his mind drifted far from spreadsheets.
At the hospital, Lucy, Sam, Nora, and a handful of the boutiques seamstresses welcomed Laura. Sam cradled the newborn in a skyblue blanket. Lord, hes so tiny! Its scary to hold, he whispered, gently rocking the infant.
Hes gorgeous, a little angel, Lucy cooed, gazing at her baby brother, Does he look like you, Mum?
Youre right, he does, Laura laughed.
Back home, Laura entered to find Lucy and Sam had transformed a spare room into a nursery, draping colourful garlands and balloons, and painting a bold banner over the crib that read, Happy Birthday, Dylan! (the name Laura had chosen for her son). The baby, healthy and thriving, filled Laura with joy. Days slipped by in a blur of feeding and cuddles. Lucy often visited, playing with Dylan or taking him to the nearby park, giving Laura a chance to rest.
Look at you, Lucypracticing motherhood already! Laura teased as she watched her daughter handle the baby with ease. One day youll have your own, and youll already know everything.
I love it! Lucy replied, eyes twinkling at Sam.
Months later, a knock sounded at Lauras door. Mark stood there, clutching a bouquet. Hello, Laura, he said, extending the flowers, which she refused.
Mark, what brings you here? she asked coolly, arms crossed.
I know Dylan is my son. Nora told me.
Does it matter now? Laura replied.
Im sorry, Lara. I was a fool. Ive realised what Ive lost. I want to be part of our childs life. Will you let me? Mark pleaded, eyes pleading.
Laura stared at him, remembering a year ago she would have given anything for such words. Now they meant nothing. No, Mark. Its too late. Leave. She stepped back, slamming the door shut, locking it.
Let me see my son! Mark shouted, pounding on the wood.
He returned several times, lurking in the courtyard as Laura pushed the pram, begging forgiveness, pleading to live together again. Laura remained unmoved. At Lucy and Sams wedding, Mark appeared briefly, handed a generous envelope of pounds, and slipped away.
Later, through mutual acquaintances, Laura learned Mark had married Olivia, but their marriage lasted only a few months before she left him for someone else.
