The pressure, though, came from inside more than out. Lily’s pregnancy lit up a new set of practicalities in my chest. She’d come by the lot in the morning with a careful smile, then sat me down and told me, again, that she and her partner were looking into their options. She wanted support, not interference. She wanted help with scheduling and childcare ideas because she wasn’t sure how to make this part fit into the rest of her life.
“We’ll help,” I said, and meant it. “We’ll figure a way.” My promise had weight because it had been tested—because we’d learned to keep our word when others doubted us. Mark overheard the conversation and added, on his own accord, “If you need help paying for a midwife or classes, we’ll pitch in. We’re family.”
Lily nodded like a woman relieved she’d not b
