Chapter 13

Bladders, hunger - and the tiny little detail that Joyce, Lisa and the kids were coming for lunch - finally drove us out of bed. Reluctantly we agreed on separate showers and we actually managed to be more or less ready when the invasion came.

The kids made much of Laura. They brought little individual presents and had all made drawings for her. "Lisa says there are two babies in your tummy," Eleanor - the second oldest of the kids said, laying her small hands on Laura's abdomen, "When are they coming out?"

"In summer - in a bit over three months," Laura replied. "Or maybe before. When there are two babies they sometimes come a little earlier."

"Can we come and see them when they're out?" Nick - her older 'brother' - asked. "Will they be staying with Uncle George too?"

"Oh yes you can," Laura said, "and yes they will. The babies and I will be staying with George."

"That's neat. Can we play with them?" Eleanor asked.

"Certainly," Laura replied. "Only, when they are very small they can't play. But later on they will."

"I remember that with Thomas and Rebecca," Nick said seriously - referring to his youngest 'siblings'. "When they were new they could only sleep and cry."

"And have milk from their mommy," Eleanor added. Laura smiled.

We sat down for lunch. Before long the kids had had their fill and lost interest. They were allowed to run and play; they are frequent visitors in my apartment so I keep a collection of toys that gets updated on a regular basis to reflect their development. Lisa jokes that I am far too organized and scientific in my approach, but the kids love playing here. When they had noisily departed for the 'play room' next to Laura's bathroom, Joyce asked "So, did you have a good birthday Laura?"

"Oh yes," Laura said. "A very good birthday." The innuendo was clear and understood.

"That's great," Lisa said. "How was it seeing your friends from your old school?"

"Really good," Laura replied. "They got along well with my new friends. The only awkward moment was that Joan's dad came to pick them up, not Jennie's mother."

"Why was that bad?" Lisa asked. We suddenly realized that Lisa and Joyce had never heard about Laura's brief and unsuccessful 'career' as a prostitute and that Joan's dad had been the indirect instigator of that very poor idea. Laura's eyes darted over to meet mine. I nodded imperceptibly and she launched into the story.

"OK," Joyce said at the end. "I can understand why seeing Joan's dad was unpleasant. But listen, don't worry. He can't hurt you - he's an asshole but a harmless one."

We carried on eating and chatted about this and that. When we finished and were taking things back out in the kitchen, Lisa noticed Laura's bangle. "That's a very nice piece," she said pointing to it.

"Yes it is," agreed Joyce. "I saw it too. Is it a gift from George?"

"No, it's actually better than that!" I said.

"What's that supposed to mean you old mystery monger," Joyce asked with a laugh.

So we told them about the letter from Laura's mother. Lisa whistled softly. "That is great news Laura," she said. "Real progress. I think there is still hope."

Joyce partly agreed. "The bit about persuading your father doesn't sound all that promising, but writing you and telling you about it is certainly a major step. And giving you the bangle is hugely significant. By asking you - in keeping the family tradition - to pass it on to your daughter when she is pregnant one day, your mother is essentially acknowledging your babies. The adoption agenda is definitively off the table now."

We hadn't even thought about it in those terms, but Joyce's analysis made sense. Laura looked immensely happy.

"Anyway," Lisa said. "If George didn't give you that bangle, what did he give you?"

Well, part of that was very private of course, but we told her about the trip to Florida - including the 'OK' from Noelle. Joyce knew already - as she had both talked to Noelle and done the bookings, but Lisa didn't. "Oh, I envy you," she said. "That will be so good!"

We could only agree. They stayed for a couple of more hours before embarking on the trip home in time for Laura and me to attend Vespers. We stopped and talked briefly with Mother Marianna on the way out. "Happy birthday for yesterday my child," she said to Laura and pressed a beautiful small crucifix in her hand. "May God keep and protect you in the coming year."

"Thanks Mother," Laura replied. "I hope he will. I know you will too!" she added and embraced her.

The spring break in Florida was - mostly - very nice. The weather (and I mean, that's why you go to Florida!) was beautiful - warm and sunny but not too hot. And since Laura is one of those fortunate people who tan easily and evenly, she got herself a very appealing hue - except on those tiny areas covered by her miniscule bikini that left so little to the imagination that I was in a more or less constant state of arousal.

Theme parks and rides are off the agenda once you're past the six-month mark with twins, so we just relaxed and did a little sightseeing and shopping. But it wasn't all 'rosy in the garden' - we started to feel the brunt of public opinion on a relationship such as ours. Most people assumed that I was Laura's father and the babies thus my grandchildren. They reacted positively to me looking after 'my unfortunate daughter'. Those who assumed otherwise or were told that Laura was not my daughter were generally hostile. When I, for the fifth time on the same day, had said "I'm neither Laura's father nor the father of her babies," it started to get to me. We also had to be especially careful and restrained as Florida's age of consent is eighteen; a detail I hadn't thought about when I planned the trip.

In one respect it didn't help either that Laura never 'dresses up'. I am sure that with the right clothes and makeup, she could make herself look like she was in her early twenties. Then most people would assume that I was just a pathetic old man with a new younger model - the women would hate me and the men would envy me, but they would leave us alone. But Laura didn't. Not since the lipstick on the day we met has she ever done anything to look different to what she is. She actually asked me if she should try, but I refused. "We can't live a lie," I said. "I love you for who you are and if people can't deal with that then it is their problem."

But as I said, it did dampen the enjoyment a bit. So when Jess called me to say that she and Jonathan had found 'the house' and could I please come and have a look, I got Joyce to rebook us to go home a few days early via Vermont. It was indeed 'the house' - perfectly located and very very nice. We got Abe to look at the paperwork and Friday at midday the deal was struck. We then had a great weekend in the most liberal state in the Union before flying home - relaxed and refreshed.

Joyce took Laura to another checkup at Noelle's. She was asked how the journey had been and how she was feeling in general. Everything looked fine and a second ultra-sound scan more or less confirmed that there was indeed 'one of each'. The appointment had been straight after school, so Joyce brought Laura back with her to work. I got the details right away before Laura went to her cubicle and started working. Joyce hung back in my office with the 'we need to talk' look I know so well. "George," she said. "We can't stall much longer. We need some sort of agreement with Laura's parents before she goes into labor!"

"There is still time," I said defensively. "Her due date is not for another 11 or 12 weeks."

"Bull!" Joyce exploded. "That is provided she goes full term - and practically no twin pregnancies do. If she went into labor now there is a fair chance of survival for the babies - but a lot of decisions to make. And there is no one to make them!"

I had to agree and promised I would talk to Laura about it. But nothing happened that week. Going back to school after the holidays was difficult for Laura. She was feeling big and bloated and out of sorts and I had to spend most of the time cheering her up. She'd had a minor dust-up with Anna Beth who had taken her suggestion about being careful around John very badly. All in all it was a bad week.

It wasn't until Sunday that anything happened - and the event was both unexpected and very dramatic. We were just home from Vespers when my cell-phone rang. To my astonishment it was Laura's mother. "Mr. Smith," she said. "You said I could have access to my daughter whenever I wanted to. Well, I need to talk to her."

"Why certainly," I replied. "She's in her room studying, but I'll get her for you right away."

"You misunderstand me," she countered. "What I need to tell her can't be said over the telephone."

That sounded ominous. "You are welcome anytime," I said. "When would you like to come?"

"How about now?" she replied. "I am standing right outside your building."

I gulped inwardly, but managed to say "Excellent - come right up. Press the sixth floor button and I'll buzz you in."

I literally RAN down to Laura's room and almost yelled. "Come quick - your mother is here!" before running back to the hall to operate the intercom.

A few moments later I heard the elevator and there was knock on the front door. I opened. That the woman outside was Laura's mother was obvious - the resemblance was clear, but I was nevertheless shocked. For starters I had never asked Laura how old her parents were - and it was now obvious that Mrs. Jones must have close to forty when she had Laura. But she also looked haggard and drawn, way beyond her fifty six or fifty seven years - it was like she was at her wits' end. "Mrs. Jones - Nora," I said. "I'm George. Please do come in."

Laura who had hung back behind me said with a hesitant voice. "Mom! What happened?"

"Laura, I, I," Mrs. Jones said. And then her face crumbled and she broke down.