The Friendship Pact. Tara Quinn Taylor

      Chapter Seven

      I wasn’t sure what to expect when I followed Bailey through the door of the fertility clinic Tuesday morning. All I knew was that time was running out—on my chances to save her from herself. Bailey deserved to experience the fullness of life, with the joys and the comforts and securities that a family of her own could offer her. She deserved a partner to shoulder every single care with her, to have her back and to have as much invested in the victories, too.

      All her life she’d had to go it alone—except for me, of course.

      And while I’d always be there for her, I couldn’t live in her home with her. I couldn’t get up for middle-of-the-night feedings or share the housework. I wouldn’t be able to hear the child cry out in the night, or be the one who stopped for milk on the way home from work. I couldn’t take turns with diaper changes and baths, or sit at the table every night and share in the joy of every first time. And who would there be besides me? I hoped I’d be present for some of them. The first step, maybe. Or first smile.

      But... My mind was wandering.

      Bailey had checked in and we were told to sit in a waiting room that was empty except for two other women.

      “It’s not very crowded,” I whispered. “Don’t you think, if they were good at this, there’d be a lot more people here? A lot of fertility clinics are in it for the money. They prey on people who are desperate to have kids and—”

      “They aren’t crowded because they’re careful not to schedule too many patients at once.” Bailey leaned over to whisper behind her hand. I’d worn pants and a matching jacket, just as she had today. I’d needed to feel as powerful as she always looked.

      I was out to protect my best friend—maybe even save her life.

      “They understand how nerve-racking this whole process can be and they do everything they can to make it as comfortable as possible, including guaranteeing that there’ll never be more than a five—or ten-minute wait.”

      I opened my mouth to point out that the other two women didn’t look very happy, but the door opened before I got a word out and we were called back. With trepidation weighing down every bone in my body, I followed Bailey through the private door and down a lushly carpeted hallway, wondering if the two women who’d been there before us would be pissed that we got in ahead of them.

      * * *

      So, that went well...not. Bailey was quiet as she pulled out of the clinic’s driveway an hour later, but Koralynn’s silence was more acute.

      “I need to do this, Kor.”

      “I can see why being a single mother is a fine choice for some women.” Koralynn stared ahead, her hands on top of the brown Coach bag that matched her shoes.

      Bailey liked her best in sweats. With no makeup.

      She liked herself best that way, too.

      “But, as the counselor said, some of those women have lost the love of their lives. You’re afraid to give love a chance,” Kora continued, her voice calm in that way that sounded as if carefully controlled emotion could bubble over any second.

      It never did. It just sounded like it could.

      “She also said not every woman has a ‘love of her life,’” Bailey reminded her, thinking back over everything Marybeth, the counselor, had discussed with them.

      At first Marybeth had assumed she and Kora were partners, wanting to have a baby together. Kora seemed to take less offense at that misunderstanding than at Bailey’s wanting to go this alone.

      More frustrated than she’d ever been with her friend, Bailey was at a loss as to what to say here. How to help Koralynn understand.

      “Did you even listen to her, Bail?” Kora was asking in that same tone of voice. “She spent half an hour discussing the hardships of being a single mother. Which is why so few women willingly choose that course!”

      Whoa, it was worse than she’d figured. Kora’s tone was rising. As close to yelling as Koralynn ever got.

      “You aren’t one of those women, Bail. You have options. And time. Lots of it. We’re just twenty-eight!”

      “You’ve been trying for a year,” she said, feeling petulant.

      Disappointed.

      And scared to death.

      She was a lawyer. Had aced debate class. She could come up with motivation and justification, with winning arguments, for practically every situation.

      In the car that day, all she could muster was, “I have to do this, Kor.” Rather than deterring her, the hour with the counselor, during which she’d heard exactly what Koralynn had heard—mostly the negatives—had only and oddly made her conviction stronger.

      “I don’t think I have a choice,” she said. “Not if I’m ever going to be happy.” Some things were just clear without explanation. How could Kora not see that?

      “If you do this, you’ll never know the happiness you might have missed out on.”

      Bailey gripped the steering wheel, turning toward the restaurant they’d decided on for lunch, although she was no longer hungry.

      She also didn’t want to leave Koralynn like this. They’d had their spats. Their arguments. But they didn’t ever stay mad at each other.

      “I’m not you, Kor,” she said, not for the first time in their lives. “I’m not like you.”

      Koralynn turned toward her then, a beautiful blonde men ogled wherever she went—a woman who was not only smart, but wise, too. Bailey could feel the warmth of her gaze.

      “I know that, Bail, and if I thought for one second that this really was the choice that would give you everything you want, I’d be fighting to make it happen.”

      Bailey felt the truth in her words. But...

      “You have blind spots, too, you know.” She didn’t think before she spoke. Didn’t even realize what she was saying until she heard herself. “What if, this time, what you want for me really is what you want for me and not what’s best for my life?” Once the words started, Bailey couldn’t stop them. They’d been bottled up for so long; she’d refused to give them thought, let alone voice. But she wasn’t just fighting for herself now. his was about her child. “Face it, Kor, with you and Danny so tight, most of the things you’re involved in are couples things. We have Thursday-night fitness class. And anytime Danny’s on a business trip or working late, we get together. But otherwise, our lives don’t gel so much anymore. I miss you like hell and I know you miss me. I need more of you in my life and I know you need more of me, too.”

      Her throat got dry, and she saw that Kora’s eyes filled with tears. “I do need more of you, Bail. So many times I look up to share something with you and you aren’t there. Danny’s everything I could possibly want him to be, and I am so in love with him, but he’s a guy, you know? He’ll never get me in just the way you do....”

      The words were a huge comfort to Bailey, who’d been feeling so lonely during the past months—since she’d broken up with Jake. But Kora’s words