A Baby of Her Own Page 0,2

long, it would take a crowbar to get him out. No one even bothers to run against him anymore. Besides, ever since I took off with that motorcycle gang, the old ladies in this town sort of lost interest in me. Now when people mention my name, the most they get is a halfhearted response like, ‘Oh, yeah? What’s that Wells girl up to now? She always was a handful.’ I guess I’ve already provided my share of the town’s entertainment. They’re eager for someone else to relieve the tedium, and I think it’s your turn.”

“My turn?” Delaney asked wryly.

“Yeah, the only controversial thing about you is your strange name. That raised a few eyebrows when you first came to town. I still remember old Mrs. Hitchcock shaking her head and wanting to know what your mama could’ve been thinking. But you moved here when you were six, so we’ve had twenty-four years to get used to it, and it’s time for something new. I mean, look at you. You were a quiet, obedient child. You always got good grades. When we were teenagers, you won the baking contest at the county fair four years running, and you placed in the barrel racing, too. And now everyone stops by the house on Sundays to buy your pies, and when they walk away they say, ‘That Delaney’s just about the sweetest thing. I wonder when she’s gonna get married.’ Only there’s no one here to marry.”

“Most people would say there’s always Josh Hill,” Delaney said. “Or his brother.”

Rebecca stubbed out her cigarette. “You know how I feel about Josh Hill.”

“He’s not that bad. I don’t understand why you hate him so much.”

“I know him better than you do. Anyway, he’s seeing Mary Thornton, and his brother’s met someone from out of town. The Hill brothers aren’t exactly available. Which leaves Billy Joe or Bobby West or Perry Paris.”

Delaney made a face. “Marrying one of them would be like marrying my brother.”

“Exactly the reason I’m marrying someone who lives in Nebraska.” She folded her arms and leaned back. “That and the fact that he doesn’t know me very well. But my point is this—you can continue to let the town hem you into being perfect and proper and lonely your whole life. Or you can exchange one night of naughtiness for a baby. It’s up to you.”

“Isn’t that simply changing passive behavior for aggressive behavior? My goal is assertive behavior. Assertive behavior promotes ‘win-win’ solutions,” Delaney said, parroting her online coach.

“What’s a donor got to lose? I think most men would see hooking up with you as a win-win situation.”

Delaney took another sip of her margarita, savoring the salty taste and letting the ice melt in her mouth before swallowing. Every assertiveness assessment she’d ever taken had shown her as far too passive. She lived to please others, feared losing their esteem if she acted out or made a mistake. Maybe Rebecca was right. Maybe, instead of taking what life gave her, she should take what she wanted from life.

She smiled, thinking that sounded very assertive. Her coach would be proud. “I’d get to choose the father, see what he looks like. That beats the artificial method.”

“And getting pregnant the natural way is infinitely more fun than lying on your back in a sterile room where the only man within twenty yards is wearing a mask and surgical gloves, right? It’s been a long time since you were with a man. Don’t you miss it?”

Delaney quickly nodded. “Oh, yeah. Of course I do,” she said, but what she missed was having someone to love. Someone who’d love her, too. The physical aspect was nice—frosting on the cake, so to speak—but it meant nothing without love.

“When’s the last time you made love?” Rebecca asked.

“There was…you know, that one boy I told you about before,” Delaney said, trying not to fidget. “The one who came to stay with Mrs. Telfer the summer we turned seventeen.”

“Booker Robinson? He was a little bastard, wasn’t he? His parents sent him to the country to learn about hard work and manners because he was getting into too much trouble in the city, and he turned this town on its ear in less than a month.” She smiled wistfully as though she had rather liked Booker and didn’t think him a bastard at all. “That was the first time you were with a boy, but it wasn’t the last, was it?”

“Um, of course not. There was…um, Tim Downey, you