Author’s notes: A very big thank you to Mary N., for once again taking the time to look over my work. I really appreciate your help and encouragement, sweetie!

In the notes of the last couple of stories I seem to have forgotten to link to the Reminder Page *RME*. If you have read the previous stories, but need a reminder of what happened in them, that would be a good place to look!

Wednesday, October 19, 1994

Pale sunlight streamed through the window, casting stripes across the bed and the two figures within. Di stretched luxuriously and turned to look at the clock. It was morning and she had a dim recollection of there being classes to attend. A little further thought brought to mind the need to go home first, take a shower and retrieve her books.

Twenty minutes to get home, she thought, calculating, then fifteen for a shower, if I’m quick. Oh, no! That only leaves half an hour to get ready and get to class. I’m going to be late if I don’t rush.

“Is that really the time? I’ve got to run,” she told Lennox, with an inelegant groan. She began searching, rather frantically, for her clothes. “Can you see my bra?”

Lennox leaned over to look under the bed. “Here,” he said, snagging one strap with a finger. “Catch.”

Diana froze.

Springing back into action, she pulled the sheets up to her neck and clutched them there. Her heels scrabbled as she tried to back away from him, while maintaining a firm grasp on the covers at the same time. She was shaking from head to foot, torn between anger, hysteria and a dozen other thoughts and feelings.

“Get out!” she screamed at him, the power of speech suddenly returning. “Now!”

“But baby,” he wheedled, “what’s wrong?” His handsome face was creased into a look of perplexity.

“That!” Di yelled, pointing at the bra as if it were a poisonous snake. “That is not my bra.”

“Of course it is,” said Lennox, smoothly. “Whose else would it be?”

“My bra is purple,” Di insisted, tears threatening to overcome the anger. “Not leopard print. I do not wear leopard print.”

“Baby,” Lennox soothed.

“Out!” Di repeated. “Right now!”

Minutes later Diana left Lennox’s apartment forever, knowing in her heart that she would never be able to trust him again. Oh, why do they all cheat on me? she asked herself. Every last one of them. Despite herself, she recalled each incident. Mart, of course, was the first and – in some ways – the most painful. His betrayal had come as a complete surprise; she had never considered that he would be anything but faithful. Even now, all these years later, thinking about it made her furious.

Next, her classmate Lincoln Prescott had swept her off her feet. He had seemed so mature, compared to Mart. Everything about him spoke of confidence. Apparently, he had been overconfident of his ability to keep her, since he took little trouble to cover his string of flings with various cheerleaders, but seemed to think she should stay with him anyway.

When she had started college, there had been Jared Easterbrook. His ongoing affair had come to light only by accident. Pure chance had opened her eyes to his infidelity. And now, Lennox. Attractive, charming, successful and almost too good to be true Lennox.

In despair, she looked around for a public telephone. Sighting one, she rushed towards it, gathered some change and placed a call. Her fingers shook as she pressed the numbers and she had to start again twice before managing to get it right. She sighed with relief as it began to ring.

“Honey?” she asked, when the telephone was answered. “I’m so glad I caught you. Can we talk? It’s important.”

Honey agreed, and Di made her way to her friend’s apartment, walking part of the way and covering the rest of the distance by subway. All through her journey, she struggled to keep her composure. Tears had begun to fall by the time she reached the apartment door, and when Honey answered it, the floodgates opened.

“It happened again,” sobbed Di.

Honey pulled her inside, guided her to a chair and waited for her friend to calm down. She put a comforting arm around Di and gently rubbed, all the while murmuring assurances. After a long interval, the sobbing eased, but the tears did not completely stop.

“Can you talk about it now?” Honey asked.

“I asked him to help me find my bra,” Di sniffed, dabbing her eyes delicately with a handkerchief, “but the bra he found was a see-through leopard print and mine was purple lace. He didn’t even notice it wasn’t the right one.”

Despite an obvious effort not to, Honey began to giggle.

“Honey!” Di cried out. “It’s not funny.”

Honey only laughed louder. “I’m so sorry, Di,” she gasped. “I just can’t help it.”

A wry smile broke through Diana’s tears. “I suppose it is a little funny,” she admitted. “Oh, Honey, where do I get these guys?”

“I don’t know, Di,” she replied, sobering. “You seem to have the worst luck with men.”

“This is the last man,” vowed Di. “At least until I get my life in some kind of order. I don’t think I can go through this again.”

Honey gave her one last squeeze. “Want some chocolate cake?” she asked lightly. “We have plenty.”

“Love some,” Di replied, cheering up a little and wiping away the last of her tears. “I think I deserve a vacation from my diet, for an hour or two, at least.”

The two women were soon sipping hot coffee and eating the rich cake. Honey skillfully steered the conversation to safe topics and Di began to relax. The radio on the kitchen counter played softly in the background and some time later the announcer introduced the ten o’clock news.

Ten o’clock, thought Di. Six plus six is ten. It’s time.

“Oh, is it ten already?” she asked, suddenly. “I’ve got something I have to do. I’ll be right back.”

Di rushed off to the bathroom and returned some minutes later looking uncomfortable.

“I just had a thought,” she told Honey. “Where am I going to live? I can’t go back to that apartment – Lennox was paying for half of it!”

“But he had his own apartment, didn’t he?” Honey asked, confused. “Why was he paying for yours, as well?”

“He wanted me to live somewhere nice,” Di replied, in a small voice. “Nicer than I could afford. And he didn’t want me to share.”

“Stay here tonight,” Honey offered, impulsively. “You can look for somewhere new in the morning.”

The next morning when she awoke, Di was certain of what she had to do to truly rid herself of Lennox. Standing in front of the mirror, she ran her fingers through her long dark hair, which reached midway down her back.

I’ll give myself a whole new look, she thought. Her stomach growled and she realised that she was very hungry. I’m going off this stupid diet, too. If I’m buying new clothes, it won’t matter if the old ones don’t fit anymore. It’s time that I lived my own life, instead of the life that other people think I should lead. The dependent little girl is gone. This is the independent woman.

She nodded to her reflection in a final manner and set about putting this plan into action. Minutes later, she had secured an appointment with her stylist for the following morning. Getting ready to leave the apartment, she put on a black shirt and jeans and secured her hair with a clamp.

Next, she thought, new clothes. I wonder if Honey can help?

It turned out that Honey was more than willing to assist and soon the two were scouring the sorts of retailers that Diana would not have been seen dead in just days before.

“And what has brought this on?” Honey asked delicately, as they entered the third such establishment. “I didn’t think this was really your scene.”

Di seemed to think for a few moments. “I want to – I don’t know – reinvent myself, I suppose,” she said, eventually. “I thought you’d be able to help me since you did it so successfully yourself.”

Honey laughed. “You mean, I went crazy and was never the same again.”

“Not quite what I meant!” Di laughed in turn. She sobered and said, “I don’t want to be someone’s model of a perfect girlfriend, any more. I just want to be me.”

“Like I didn’t want to be the perfect daughter, any more,” mused Honey, softly. “But do you really think some new clothes will change your life?”

“Oh, the hair’s going too,” added Diana, making scissor actions with her fingers. “First thing tomorrow.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Honey replied. She stopped, choosing her words carefully. “Changing your hair and your clothes doesn’t change your life. Take it from me: I did both.”

“I know,” sighed Di. “And I have to do other things, too. Like moving out of that apartment, and getting rid of lots of stuff, and spending more time with my friends.”

“That’s more like it,” Honey encouraged. “Do things for you, not because of him.”

“I just need to get rid of some of this baggage first,” said Di.

The following morning found Diana at her stylist’s, nervously awaiting her turn. I don’t think I’ll go through with it, she thought edgily, playing with a stray strand of hair. Yesterday, when the main thought was disassociating herself with Lennox, she had decided on a short style since he particularly disliked short hair on women. Today, her stomach turned itself in knots at the thought. She picked up a trashy magazine from the pile. I’ll just have a few inches off. That will make it look different enough.

Flicking through, she came face to face with herself, fawning over Lennox, a look of such dumb adoration on her face that the old anger seethed through her again. She flicked the hair over her shoulder and immediately resolved once again to rid herself of everything connected with him – including his preference for long hair. A hardback book of hairstyles peeked out from the bottom of the pile and she picked it up.

When she was seated in the stylist’s chair the anger still surged through her. “I’d like something like this,” she said, indicating a picture in the medium-length section. The model’s hair fell in soft waves around her face, ending near her jawline. After a few minutes’ discussion, the stylist did her bidding.

As the transformation began, Diana began to have second thoughts. She barely repressed a shudder as the scissors touched the back of her neck and later had to avert her gaze as the parts she could see were cut. The end result looked stunning – a small part of her admitted – but it was utterly different from anything she’d had before and the ends prickled against her neck. That’s not me, Di said to herself as she studied her reflection. What have I done?

She plastered a smile on her face as she walked calmly out of the salon. Once around the next corner, however, it was all she could do to stop herself from running home to hide her head under the covers of her bed.

Why is nothing ever right in my life? she asked herself. She pushed open the door to her apartment and found herself face to face with Lennox.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, angrily. “Get out of my apartment and get out of my life.”

“Diana, sweetie, what have you done to your hair?” Lennox asked, oozing charm. “I loved how it was before.”

I’m not ever growing it back, Diana silently determined, despite having just decided the opposite. Aloud she repeated, “I said, ‘Get out,’ and I meant it. Give me the key and leave!”

“Not until I explain,” he replied. “It must have been my sister’s. She was staying with me last week and she must have left it.”

Diana laughed softly, with heavy sarcasm. “Nice try, Lennox,” she told him. “Unless your sister was entertaining a lesbian lover there’s no way she left that bra. It was far too small.”

“So this is the thanks I get,” Lennox replied, all charm gone. “After all the things I did for you.”

“The key,” Di asked, quietly. He handed it over and walked away.

Almost a month had passed since the break-up. Di slowly opened her eyes. By the light streaming in the narrow window of her new apartment, it looked as if day was well and truly underway but she could not seem to wake properly. The place was utterly silent, telling her that she was alone.

What’s wrong with me? she asked herself. I hope I’m not getting the ’flu.

Glancing over at the clock she quickly calculated that she would miss all of her first class, no matter what she did. She sank back under the warm covers, unwilling to let go just yet.

I’ll get up soon, she thought, knowing that she did not really mean it.

An hour passed and Di decided to get out of bed, whether she wanted to or not. There was still a class she could make it to this morning and she determined that she should at least try to get there. Once in the kitchen she could find nothing appetising to eat and settled for a glass of water and a multivitamin.

Maybe I’ll feel better tomorrow, she thought. However, the next day was the same, as was the one after. Soon a week had passed with no change. It’s just the ’flu, she told herself, firmly. I’ll feel better soon. Another few weeks passed before Diana could deny no longer that there was something wrong and make an appointment to see Dr. Newton. The day of the appointment arrived and, after a nervous wait, she was ushered into the examination room.

“And what can I do for you?” the doctor asked kindly once Di had seated herself.

Suddenly, Di did not know where to start. “Um, I haven’t been feeling very well…”

“How so?” the doctor, a woman in her forties, prompted when Di did not continue.

“Well, I’m so tired and I’ve kind of lost my appetite and I’m kind of teary but that could just be because I broke up with my boyfriend a little while back,” Di let out in one breath.

“Are there any other symptoms?” Dr Newton asked. “Aches and pains? Bladder trouble?”

“Well, now that you come to mention it,” Di said, thinking hard, “I do seem to be spending a lot of time in the bathroom and my breasts have been sore for a few weeks, now. Sort of like being pre-menstrual – oh!” Reaching for her bag she began to rummage, eventually drawing out her calendar and furiously counting, flipping page after page. “I must have missed writing one down. I couldn’t really be that late.”

“Is it possible that you’re pregnant?” the older woman asked. “How about we do a test?”

“But I’ve always used my diaphragm,” objected Di. “I’m sure I always did it right.”

“Still, they do fail, occasionally,” replied her doctor. “We’ll do the test to be sure.”

Ten minutes later, Di walked out of the doctor’s office with a positive pregnancy test in her bag and a promise ringing in her ears to go back when she had decided what to do.

What am I going to do now? she wondered, in near-panic. Daddy’s going to kill me! I’ll have to drop out of college. Where will I live? And what will I live on? The thoughts churned through her head, each problem seeming more difficult than the last. In desperation, she thought, I can’t do this by myself!

Just as she had done when the relationship with Lennox had ended, Di turned to Honey for comfort and was deeply relieved to find her friend at home. It was late in the day by the time she made it to Honey and Dan’s apartment and they had both gotten home from their respective study and work.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” said Dan, taking one look at Di’s face. “I can tell you’ve got things to talk about.”

As soon as he retired to the bedroom Diana’s troubles poured out. “Oh, Honey,” she wailed, “I’ve just been to the doctor and she says I’m pregnant! What am I going to do?”

Tears began to pour down her face and Honey held her friend as she began to sob. Minutes passed before the crying eased and Di started to dab her face with a handkerchief. Honey fetched her a drink of water and as she sipped they began to talk.

“I don’t know how this happened,” said Di. “How could I possibly be pregnant? We were using contraception.”

“A diaphragm, right?” Honey asked, delicately.

“How did you know?” her friend asked, amazed.

“I do know about these things,” Honey laughed. “I was kind of wondering, though. You need to keep it in for six hours afterward, don’t you?”

Di nodded, not following.

“Did you–” Honey paused, unsure. “Did you have sex at four o’clock that morning?”

“Four?” Di looked confused. “What morning? The morning we broke up? Of course not!”

“But I was pretty sure that was what you went off to do at ten that morning,” Honey explained. “That’s why I thought it was a diaphragm you were using. I almost said something at the time. I wish I had, now.”

Di’s face paled. “How could I be so stupid?” she whispered.

“We all make mistakes,” Honey comforted.

“Not that sort of mistake,” said Di.

Honey laughed. “Do you think Mrs. Belden meant to get pregnant with Trixie?”

“I suppose not,” Di admitted. “That’s not the same, though. I wanted to rid myself of everything of his. Now look what I’ve done.”

“That doesn’t mean it can’t work out,” Honey pointed out. “It’s not like your life is over or anything. Plenty of women have accidental pregnancies and I’m sure that a lot of them want nothing to do with the father.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Di repeated. “I feel like I should have some sort of plan before I go home and break the news but I just can’t think of anything.”

“What does your heart tell you?” Honey asked.

Diana sat up straight and looked Honey in the face, her eyes widened in surprise.

“I didn’t think of it that way,” she exclaimed. She paused, thinking hard. “I’m going to have a baby.”

“Y-e-s,” said Honey. “We knew that.”

“No,” replied Di. “We knew that I’m pregnant. What I mean is that I’m having a baby.”

“Oh,” said Honey, catching on. “You mean you want to keep the baby.”

“Yes,” said Di. “I’m gonna be a mommy.”

Diana dressed carefully on Christmas morning. For several weeks now she had been noticing small changes in her figure. At first, while she was still denying the possibility that she might be pregnant, she had put it down to the abandonment of her former strict diet. Why all of the weight happened to be added to her bust, she did not think about too closely. Now, she had to admit that there was another reason. She chose a dress which would not draw attention to the problem and slipped it on.

Might as well get this day over with, she thought, glumly. Her appetite, which had always been small, had diminished to almost nothing and foods which had been favourites were now decidedly unappealing. Try as she would, she could not look forward to a day dedicated to feasting.

All through the day Diana was confronted with negative side-effects of her pregnancy. The sight and smell of food was around her constantly, making her feel ill. To make matters worse, everyone else seemed to be determined to make her eat.

“Have some of this yummy oyster stuffing, Di,” her sister Rosie insisted. “It’s really good.”

“I thought you loved green bean casserole,” added Cindy, trying to offer her a serving. “You haven’t even tasted it.”

“Girls!” chastised their mother. “Leave your sister alone. She’s quite old enough to decide what to eat for herself.”

Di gave her mother a grateful look, but shivered at the glance she was given in return. I wonder if she knows, she thought, concentrating on her plate. No, at best she could just suspect and I’m not ready to tell just yet. Bracing herself, she ate another mouthful and tried to look happy. It was going to be a very long day.

When the time came for the Bob-White reunion, Di only wanted to avoid her friends. The only thing holding her back was the fact that she had been the one to institute the reunions in the first place. If only I’d known two and a half years ago what a mess I’d be in now, she thought, I don’t think I would’ve bothered. The very thought of seeing all her friends together gave her the shivers.

The first few days passed, however, without too much attention paid to her. Events outside of her control conspired nicely to keep her out of the spotlight. When the mystery was cleared up, she found herself facing an unexpected hurdle.

“Don’t you think you should be making an announcement,” Dan asked her, coming up from behind as she sat gazing out one of the downstairs windows at the thick blanket of snow. She hadn’t noticed his approach and it gave her a jolt. “Or are you waiting for a more dramatic moment?”

“I’m not announcing anything,” she replied, feeling more than a little annoyed. She certainly wasn’t ready to share this particular piece of news just yet. “And don’t you think you should be looking after Honey right now?”

“She wanted to spend some time with Jim,” he informed her. His face clearly showed that, whatever was going on, the subject was off-limits. “And we’re talking about you, not Honey.”

Di swatted at a short strand of hair, which seemed to always be getting in the way as her latest style grew out, and sighed. She looked up at her friend and read the concealed pain in his face; a pain of wanting to help the one he loves, but not being able. If this makes him feel better, she decided, gritting her teeth, I guess I can put up with it.

“Fine,” she said aloud. “Let’s talk about me. What will we talk about first?”

“How you put up with this crazy hairstyle?” he asked, with a grin. The same strand had fallen back in her eyes and she brushed it aside once again. “Seriously, Di, how are you going?”

She sighed. “I’m okay. I’m not ready for everyone to know what a mess I’ve made of my life, but I’m doing okay.”

“We’ve all made mistakes,” he said. “Just look at Honey’s story; she made a pretty big mess of things, but she’s pulling it together, now.”

“This is different,” she insisted. “This is the rest of my life ruined, just because I couldn’t say no to something that I knew was wrong. If you’d asked me when I was sixteen, I would have told you I was going to stay a virgin until my wedding night. I knew that was the right thing to do, but I let someone pressure me into bed and there didn’t seem much point in waiting, after that. And this is what it’s led to. I wish I had waited.”

“You can’t go back.”

Something in the way he said those few words gave Di the shivers. She watched his face for a moment, looking for a clue to what he was thinking, before asking, “What would you change, if you could?”

“What?” he asked, startled. He laughed, without humour. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“It’s not really that bad,” she challenged. “What’s so bad about your life?”

His eyes dropped and a frown formed on his face. He seemed reluctant to put the trouble into words. Finally, he began to explain: “I’ve only got one big regret, when it comes to things that I could actually do something about. Maybe you didn’t know this, but when Honey and I first got together, she was the one who wanted us to move in together. I didn’t. I still don’t like it. I wish I’d never agreed.”

“Does it matter so much?” she asked, gently. “The way the two of you are, it’s almost like you’re married. Do you really need the piece of paper to prove it?”

“I can’t believe I’m going to admit this,” he said, “but when my parents were alive, they taught me that de facto relationships were wrong. I don’t want to betray their memory by living in a way that I know they’d disapprove of. I’m damn sure I’m not going to complicate things by bringing any children into it. If Honey wants kids, she’ll just have to marry me or do it with someone else.”

Di felt her mouth drop open and promptly pulled it shut. Suddenly, she saw the funny side. “Oh, Dan,” she said, with a rueful laugh, “how do we get ourselves into these things? We’re both in situations we don’t know quite how to get out of.”

“All you have to do is admit what’s happening,” he answered, with a shadow of the former frown. “I’m stuck until Honey decides to change her mind.”

“She will, one day,” Di assured him, wanting to give encouragement. “When she’s had time to get over – this.” She waved an expressive hand, indicating the whole situation which had been revealed earlier in the reunion.

“I hope so,” he said, beginning to brood. A moment later, he snapped out of it. “But we’re supposed to be talking about you.”

“We’re not doing very well at it,” she noted with a little smile. “Mostly because I don’t want to think about it too much, I guess.”

“Do you have any plans, yet?”

“Yes,” she said, with a grin. “Stay away from men, especially cheating ones. Say no to all dates. Visit my doctor regularly. No more sex before marriage. I think that about covers it.”

“I think you’ve left a few things out,” he chided, but with a twinkle in his eye. “Like, maybe, telling everyone? Or the bit when what’s inside decides to–”

“Don’t talk about that,” she interrupted. “I don’t want to think about that. You asked me before how I was, and that’s the real answer: I’m scared. Dan, I’m so scared that I just don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he said, though a little uncertainly. “Not that I know anything about that sort of thing; just that women are, usually.”

“But what if there’s something wrong with it?” she asked. “I really didn’t want to be – you know – but, now that I am, I don’t want to lose it, or anything. I’m so scared that I’ll do something wrong, or that I already did and don’t know it, or that something will happen at the end. And I’m afraid of the pain. I don’t know how I’ll cope. Then I’ve got to actually look after it and I don’t know how I’ll cope with that, either.” She looked up into Dan’s face and knew that he was the wrong person to hear these concerns. “You don’t know what to say, do you? Don’t worry about it; I’ll find someone who’s actually done this to ask – after I’ve told everyone.”

The relief on Dan’s face was unmistakable.

The next few weeks went by in a whirlwind. The nausea which had troubled her so much gradually faded away. Without it, her appetite increased. She experienced the wonder of feeling the baby move within her, and saw him or her in grainy black and white during her scan. Besides these things, Diana had plenty of planning and preparation to keep her occupied and she spent every spare minute reading up on what was ahead of her. The one thing that she avoided doing, however, was telling anyone else of her pregnancy. As it was beginning to become obvious, no matter how carefully she dressed, she kept well away from her family and friends.

“I don’t know what to say to them,” she told Honey one day in February. “I mean, how can I tell my parents that I’m expecting when I’m not even in a relationship? And what are the rest of the Bob-Whites going to say?”

“You’ll have to tell them sometime,” Honey pointed out, reasonably. “I think it would be better if you told them before they can work it out for themselves – which will be pretty soon, I think. I know that Trixie’s been suspicious that something’s going on for weeks, now. Even she managed to notice that you’re dressing differently. I told her not to mention it because you’d put on weight since coming off your diet, but that’s only going to satisfy her for so long.”

Di laughed. “I guess you’re right,” she conceded. “I think I’d better go home this weekend and just do it.”

“That’s the idea,” Honey encouraged. “You’ll know what to say when the time comes.”

“I hope so,” Di replied morosely.

That evening, Di called her parents to make sure they would be at home and arranged to spend the weekend with them. Her mother did not even seem suspicious of the request, to Di’s bafflement. In the normal course of events, it would be very strange to visit home again so close to the beginning of the semester.

When she arrived home on Friday evening, everything seemed supremely normal. This is kind of surreal, she thought to herself. Something should be different. My life is turning itself upside down, but everything here is just the same.

She had a normal conversation with her parents, touching on her studies and her father’s latest business venture. She was taken upstairs by her ten-year-old sisters and shown lots of normal ten-year-old girl belongings. Even her fourteen-year-old brothers were normal – in their absence.

After dinner that evening her opportunity arose. Cindy and Rosie had gone to bed and Larry and Terry had gone to a friend’s house, leaving the adults alone.

“Mum, Dad,” she began nervously. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

Her parents looked at her expectantly but Diana did not continue straight away. Despite Honey’s confidence, there did not seem to be any way of saying what she wanted to express. She tucked a short strand of hair behind her ear and bit her lip.

“You can tell us, dear,” her mother coaxed. “What’s the trouble?”

“I’m pregnant,” Di admitted, her head bowed. “Eighteen weeks pregnant.”

Tears were welling in her eyes as she heard her mother say, “I thought so.”

“What?” Di’s head snapped up. “You thought so?”

“Yes, dear,” her mother confirmed. “I, of all people, should know the signs. You get double the symptoms with twins. If you’ll forgive me saying so, you’re starting to show, as well.”

The world was spinning around her, preventing her from getting a grasp on what was happening. Of all the responses she had imagined to her news, calm acceptance had never come into the picture.

“You’re not mad at me?” Di asked, in a small voice.

“We’re a little disappointed, sweetheart,” said her father. “We’re not mad at you.”

“You do have a good doctor, though, don’t you?” asked her mother. “It’s very important.”

“Yes, Mum,” Di replied. She had never been more relieved that she followed her father’s advice as when her doctor asked about her finances.

“You’d better take out your own health insurance as soon as you start earning,” he had told her, before she left for college. “You never know what’s around the corner. Your mother and I may not be able to help you.”

So Diana’s doctor had referred her to an obstetrician who would monitor her health and that of her baby throughout the pregnancy.

“I took your advice about insurance, Dad,” she told him. “And I’m really glad I did.”

“It’s a very useful thing to have,” he replied. “You’ll remember this when it’s time to pay the premiums.”

“Now,” interrupted Mrs. Lynch, bringing the subject back to the original topic, “what about your brothers and sisters? When do you intend to tell them?”

Diana sighed. “Do you think I should tell them tomorrow?”

“I think it would be best,” said her mother. “I’ll get the four of them together after breakfast.”

When the time came, Diana found it much easier to tell her siblings than it had been to tell her parents. Maybe I’m getting better at this, she mused. Or maybe I’m getting used to the idea of telling people.

“So what do you have to tell us?” Terry asked, impatiently. “I’ve got things to do, you know.”

Di smiled as Larry nodded his agreement.

“I’m having a baby,” she said, simply. “In the middle of July.”

“Can I have first hold?” shrieked Cindy.

“No, me!” Rosie yelled.

“I’m older.”

“I’m taller.”

“I come first alphabetically – both my real name and my nickname.”

“I’m more responsible.”

“Girls!” Di laughed. “You can both have a hold.”

“But I want to go first,” they cried together.

“Don’t be silly, kids.” Terry waved away their request with a lofty gesture. “Di will have first hold. Then Mum and Dad, then Larry and I. You two are last.”

“Hey, maybe she’ll have twins,” suggested Cindy.

“Giacinta!” gasped Di, barely able to speak for the horror of the idea. “Don’t even think that.”

“Ooh,” teased her twin. “You got called by your real name.”

“Roseanna,” Di warned. “Stop squabbling. Now, all of you, can you please keep this a secret for now?”

She was greeted with a chorus of disgust.

“But why?” demanded Rosie. “I want to tell all my friends at school.”

“At least let me tell my own friends first,” replied her older sister, with a smile. “I’ll let you know when you can tell and I promise it won’t be long.”

Di made a quick call to Honey, who hastily arranged for all of the Bob-Whites to be together. At first she thought that it would only be possible for Di to tell Trixie and Jim in person but due to a lucky coincidence Brian was in Sleepyside that same weekend and Mart was able to make a side-trip on his way home from somewhere else. Dan would be there, too, but he already knew about the pregnancy. The seven Bob-Whites gathered at Rose Cottage for Sunday lunch to hear Di’s news.

“This was a great idea, Honey,” Trixie pronounced, at the end of the meal. “We should do this sort of thing more often.”

“Actually, there was a reason why I suggested this,” Honey replied. She turned to Di and said, “Why don’t you tell them now?”

All eyes turned to Di, who quickly and quietly shared her news. For a moment there was chaos as everyone talked at once. Brian held up a hand for silence and, in a show that things had not changed as much as they might seem to have done, received it.

“Give her a little space,” he laughed. “You’d think this sort of thing never happened before.”

“But it didn’t,” enthused his sister. “It’s the first Bob-White Junior!”

“Maybe Honey could make the baby a miniature Bob-White jacket,” suggested Jim, with a laugh. “It could have BWGJ on the back.”

“That would be so cute,” Honey agreed. “I’ll start looking for a pattern.”

“I’m only eighteen weeks,” Di objected, weakly. “It’s not like the baby will be here next week.”

“How many weeks are there in a pregnancy anyway?” asked Trixie. “I never could get that straight.”

“Forty,” Di told her. “So I’ve got a long way to go. Until July, actually. The baby’s due on the thirteenth.”

“Knowing Honey’s schedule,” Dan quipped, “she’ll need that long.”

While the others were handling the washing up, Di found herself exiled to the living room. She let out a sigh and sank into a comfortable chair. A few moments later, she was joined by Mart.

“I thought you might need some company,” he mentioned, sitting opposite her. “Six is too many for that kitchen anyway.”

“Thanks,” she replied, but added nothing else.

“Look, I’m sorry if this is too personal, but I need to know whether what’s happening now has anything to do with us.”

She lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Who knows. Maybe it does; maybe I would’ve ended up in the same situation.”

“If I hadn’t behaved like such a jerk, we might still be together now.”

“Then you’d be the one who was in deep trouble,” she informed him with a grin. She leaned over to pat his hand. “Don’t worry about it, Mart. You can’t change what’s in the past. We broke up; I did some stupid things afterwards. It isn’t your fault.”

He frowned. “That’s not entirely true.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” she asked, laughing. “Do you want me to blame you for every bad decision I’ve made since I threw that ring back in your face? I really don’t recommend it; I’ve made an awful lot of bad decisions since then. Anyway, I don’t want to dwell on that sort of stuff. I have to move forward, now. You need to, as well.”

“I’ll always feel guilty about the way I treated you.”

“Good,” she grinned. “It’ll help you remember never to do that to another girlfriend – or wife.”

“True,” he said, nodding gently. “Thanks, Di. For everything.”

“You’re most welcome.”

Early March, 1995

“O-o-o-oh, that feels good,” Di murmured, as she sank into a comfy chair in Honey and Dan’s apartment after a morning of looking at baby goods. “I’m so tired, I could go off to sleep right now.”

“Don’t do that,” Honey scolded. “You haven’t eaten your slice of cake, yet, and you know that you have to help me, otherwise I’ll get so fat I won’t fit through doorways. I don’t know what’s gotten into Dan lately; he’s making more cake than we can possibly eat!”

Di let out a little sigh. “But my back has been aching for hours and I’ve been having so much trouble sleeping at night, between the leg cramps and the strange dreams, not to mention that I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and right now I feel so sleepy I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

Before she could settle any further, Honey shoved a plate into her hands and directed her to start eating. The sugar rush did the trick, helping Di to revive enough to hold up her end of the conversation. As the two finished eating, Di remembered something she had been wanting to ask her friend and tentatively put the question.

“Honey, do you regret the big decisions you’ve made, and the way they’ve made your life turn out?”

The other woman set down her coffee cup and frowned in thought. “Yes and no,” she finally decided. “There are lots of things I wish I hadn’t done, but if I’d done things differently, I probably wouldn’t be where I am now, and I like where I am now, so it’s probably just as well.”

“What about Dan?” Di prompted.

Honey had the grace to look guilty. “He’s been telling you about our disagreement, hasn’t he?” She sighed. “I’m sorry that it upsets him, of course, but that’s just something he has to deal with.” She fiddled with a strand of her hair, apparently searching for the right words. “It’s kind of a problem, really. If I hadn’t done the things I did, I don’t think Dan and I could have ever been a couple; like it was, we were just too different. Only, since I did do those things, we have more common ground, but they changed some of the things I thought I’d do one day – you know, like getting married – and that’s causing problems for us.”

Di nodded. “Do you think, maybe, there’s some reason why this is happening to me?” she wondered. “Is this going to make sense in hindsight, or have I just messed up my whole life, like I keep thinking I have?”

“I hope it’ll work out for you!” Honey gave her friend a tight hug. “Whatever happens, you still have the Bob-Whites, and in a few months you’ll have a family all of your own.”

“You have no idea how much that scares me!” Di admitted, with tears in her eyes.

Honey slowly shook her head. “No, but I do know that I’ll do whatever I can to help you, no matter what happens.”

April, 1995

Pale sunlight was streaming down between the buildings and through the cafe windows, casting patterns of light and shadow across the tables. Looking around at the available places, Honey chose a booth and gracefully slid into it. Trixie chose the opposite side. With a heavy sigh, Di manoeuvred herself next to Trixie.

“I hate having to sit on the end,” she said. “I don’t like people seeing my profile.”

“I’ll change, if you want,” said Trixie, in a hurry. “Slide out and we can swap.”

“No, it’s fine,” said Di, shrugging. “Too late now.”

Their drinks arrived and Di picked up her decaf cappuccino, taking a long sip. “Mmm,” she said, setting it back in the saucer. “It’s been too long since we did this.”

“Definitely,” said Honey, sipping her espresso. “I know that I’m far– Oh!”

She broke off as a bright flash lit the area. A man with a camera jumped up and raced outside before any of them could do or say a thing.

“Let me out!” cried Trixie, pushing on Di to try to hurry her. “I’ll follow him!”

By the time that Trixie had freed herself, the man was well out of sight, but she followed anyway. Di took her seat once again and traced patterns on the table.

“I’m sorry,” said Honey, looking stricken. “This is my fault; I shouldn’t have suggested this.”

“No,” said Di, “it’s okay, really. I should expect this. Lennox is big news and I’m the bad guy in his story.” She shook her head. “Enough about Lennox. I don’t think I ever want to hear his name again.”

“Done,” Honey replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone by that name.”

Di dropped her voice to a whisper. “While Trixie isn’t here, there’s something that I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She drew a deep breath before continuing. “Could you be there with me when it’s time?”

“You mean–” Honey dropped her eyes to Di’s midriff for a moment. “Of course, if you want me to be.”

“Please,” said Di. “I’m so scared and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have with me.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “It would be an honour.”

There was a slight commotion at the doorway and Trixie appeared, puffing slightly and looking rather disheveled. She shook her head and slid into the booth next to Di, who rearranged the drinks.

“No luck,” she said, after catching her breath. “I followed for a while, but he got away in the end.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Di, trying to look as if she meant it. “Thanks for trying, though.”

Early May, 1995

Di glanced at her watch and cringed. No matter how much she hurried, she would be late for Professor Martin’s class for the third consecutive time. She increased her pace to the maximum she could handle, which was not all that fast. Her face was hot and she had a sneaking suspicion that she was starting to waddle, but there was no time to worry about it now.

The building she was aiming for came into sight and Di heaved a silent sigh of relief. Almost there, she encouraged herself. Just inside the door and it’s the first room on the right. Only a few more steps. She slipped inside and took a seat, with just seconds to spare. As she hurriedly pulled out notebooks and pens for the class, she struggled to catch her breath.

I can’t take much more of this, she thought, as Professor Martin stared at her down his long, thin nose. I can hardly concentrate and I’m too tired to study most of the time. I’ll be lucky if I pass anything this semester.

The class began and she was fully occupied with her notes. She frowned with concentration, trying to capture everything that was said. Every time she looked up, it seemed that the professor was frowning directly at her. As uncomfortable as she already felt, his attention made her feel worse.

Well, that’s another week gone of this horrible class, she thought as the professor reached a conclusion. Only a couple left, then the final. Her heart almost froze at the thought. She neatly packed her belongings into her bag, before heaving herself out of her chair. She was nearing the door when a voice called, “Ms. Lynch?”

“Yes, Professor Martin,” she replied, awkwardly turning her steps in his direction. Of all the people in this class, he has to know my name, she grumbled to herself. You’d think he’d been checking up on me, or something.

“I’d like to reinforce to you the importance of the final exam in this class,” he said, when she reached him. “Your assignment work has been satisfactory, but you will need to put in some extra study if you wish to pass this class.”

“Thank you, sir,” she replied, in a small voice. “I’ll remember that.”

“Good.” He nodded. “I don’t want to see you back here this time next year, or whenever it is that you’re planning to recommence.”

“I’ll do my best,” she said, feeling shocked.

The conversation ended and she wandered outside in a daze. For the next few hours she had a long break, in which she normally ate her lunch. Without a conscious decision, she made her way to the dining hall and got into line. Reaching the front, she wrinkled her nose at the options available and selected something based on smaller portion size rather than any other factor.

Seating herself at a table, she picked at her food as she thought. I can’t believe that I didn’t think of that, she thought, over and over again. Of all the obvious things! I can’t come back next semester! I’ll have a tiny baby. What on earth am I going to do?

She rolled the problem around in her mind for a while. On the one hand, she had no intention of abandoning her studies now. It had been a struggle to get this far and to throw it all away would be plain foolishness. On the other hand, she had no idea how she would cope with the demands of a baby. Will I be able to look after it? she wondered. Will I have time to study as well? Something told her that she would not.

I’ll have to take some time off, she decided, all of a sudden. Six months? A year? A year sounds more reasonable. I’ll take a year to look after the baby, then I’ll finish this.

Nodding with satisfaction, she looked down at her plate. It looked hardly any different from when she received it, yet she was feeling full. With hardly a regret, she tipped the leftovers into the waiting receptacle and walked back to her room. She had a lot of study to do and not a lot of time.

July 17, 1995

Her due date had come and gone, with hardly a sign that anything was happening. Di dressed herself with difficulty and headed for the kitchen. A small breakfast finished, she decided to call Honey to organise an impromptu shopping trip.

“You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Honey asked. “Di! You’re four days overdue. Don’t you think this is a time when you should be resting, not shopping?”

“I’m fine,” Di replied airily. “Are you coming, or not?”

Honey laughed. “If you want to go shopping, I’d probably better come with you. You’ll probably have your waters break in the middle of the highest-class establishment we go into, completely ruining their carpets, and the paramedics will have to deliver you there, while complete strangers stand by and watch.”

“Honey,” Di warned. “Are you coming, or not?”

“I’ll come and pick you up,” her friend promised. “See you in a little while.”

Over the next half hour, Di pottered around her apartment, preparing for the trip and tidying up while she waited. Every so often, her belly would tighten painfully, but she dismissed it as Braxton-Hicks contractions.

“Hello?” she heard Honey call a short time later. Opening the door, she let her friend in and was surprised to find that she had also brought Dan. “I hope it’s okay,” she explained. “We’re having some kind of trouble with the electricity at home and we wondered if Dan could do a few things here while you and I are shopping. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” Di waved her friend inside, while trying to shoo Honey out the door. “Let’s go.”

A look was shared between the couple. “I just need to help Dan with one or two things, first. It will only take a minute.”

Another painful tightening caused Di to wince. She noted, with dismay, that both of her friends had seen her expression. “It’s not the real thing, okay?” she pre-empted. “Nothing’s happening. As soon as you’re ready, we’ll go shopping.”

“Sure,” Honey agreed, patting her friend’s arm and following Dan away. “I’ll be back in a little while, okay?”

Di nodded and went back to her cleaning. Half an hour stretched out, with no sign of Honey. The pains were getting stronger, now, and seemed to be forming into a regular pattern. Di set the matter out of her mind and went in search of her friend.

“I really need to get going, now,” she insisted. “Are you coming, or are you staying here with Dan?”

“In a minute,” Honey replied. “I just need to do one more thing and then I’ll be with you.”

With dismay, Di felt another contraction coming. She put every ounce of acting ability she had ever possessed into hiding the pain, but could tell by Honey’s face that it was not enough.

“It’s worse, isn’t it?” she stated calmly, in her most tactful voice. “I think it’s time to start thinking about going to the hospital or, at least, giving them a call.”

“No, I’m fine,” Di replied, scowling at her friend. How dare she be tactful with me, she thought, rather irrationally. I’m not going to the hospital and she can’t make me. “I’m going shopping. You don’t need to come with me.”

“Di!” Honey cried, bursting into laughter. “You’re having a baby. You can’t go shopping.”

“I’m not,” she contradicted. “I’m not ready to be a mother. I’m not having the baby. I’m going shopping.”

The next contraction, which threatened to swallow the end of her sentence, completely overwhelmed her acting ability. When it eventually ended, she debated what line to take next, deciding to pretend that it hadn’t happened. She slung her handbag over her shoulder, picked up her keys and was heading for the door when she discovered that she and Honey weren’t alone.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dan asked, leaning negligently in the doorway and effectively blocking it. “You’ll need your overnight bag for the hospital, won’t you?”

“I’m not going to the hospital,” Di ground out between clenched teeth. “I – am – going – shopping.”

“Can you get her bag, Honey?” he asked, taking a hold of Di’s arm. She tried to shake him off, but was unable. “I called the doctor, like you asked, and I’ve got the car out the front.”

“Thanks, Dan,” she said, collecting everything they needed. “Let’s get you to the hospital, Di.”

Frustrated, frightened and completely overwhelmed, Di let out a sob and allowed herself to be taken to the hospital. No matter how hard she tried, she could not get out of what was going to happen next.

July 18, 1995

There was a gentle tap at the door, as if the person outside was afraid to disturb the occupants of the room. Di called out for her visitors to enter and the door opened, revealing a head of curly blonde hair.

“Can we come in?” Trixie asked, barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” Di said, smiling. She added, on seeing exactly how many visitors there were, “I don’t think I’ve got enough chairs for you all.”

“That’s okay with us,” assured Honey, closing the door behind herself. “We came to see you and the baby, not try out the furniture.”

The room was filled, almost to capacity, with Bob-Whites. Even Brian and Mart had taken time out to come and see her. Di’s eyes filled with tears to see all her friends together and under such circumstances.

“So, are you going to introduce us?” Mart asked, looking at the baby in her arms. He smiled softly and she remembered the conversation they had shared.

“Everyone,” she said, returning the smile, “I’d like you to meet Imogen Sarah Lynch.”

The End

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