Chapter Text
PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
Everyone who had ever met Lexa Woods (or had even had a brief conversation with her in an elevator,) would unanimously agree with utter certainty that this was a woman who had no business raising a child. Of course, it wasn’t that Lexa would be a bad or negligent mother – like almost everything she did in life, chances are she would be as outstanding at child-rearing as she was at being a lawyer. Maybe it was the lack of any kind of warmth or the seeming absence of emotion that struck people as being un-motherlike.
Either way, upon announcing to her family her intentions of having a baby, Lexa couldn’t exactly say it was surprising that she was met with a distinct lack of immediate support.
“A baby.”
Lexa took another slow, calming breath. Keeping it together when she was frustrated and annoyed was one of her strong suits. “Yes. I don’t know what’s confusing you here, Anya.”
Her sister shook her head a little, as though she thought this was all a bad dream, and she would wake up in a cold sweat with the relief of knowing that god no, her little sister wasn’t really going to become a mother. “I mean... You. A baby.”
Lexa leaned back in the hard wooden seat of her sister’s dining room and huffed impatiently. “I knew it was a mistake telling you first. I knew you’d be like this.”
“No, no, I’m – I mean – I, “ Her sister spooned more helpings of sugar into her cooling tea while she struggled for words. “I’m just shocked, that’s all. No wait, shocked is the wrong word. I mean... I mean – “
“You mean you’re horrified,” Lexa deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest.
“No,” Anya said firmly, pointing a stern finger at her sister. “No. Definitely not. I – I just... why, Lex?”
Lexa sighed and looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap, and frowned. “I’m just... I...” In truth, she knew just how difficult it was going to be to explain this to Anya, who’d known her since childhood. Anya, who’d known just how disgusted by kids and babies Lexa had been when they’d been younger. There was never a less maternal person on the planet than a sixteen year old Lexa, who’d had to babysit their little cousin twice a week for paltry pocket money. Lincoln was only four, and a true terror. Anya could probably even recall the days when Lexa would arrive home from babysitting, throw herself onto the couch and declare that she would never, ever, have kids.
So Lexa had thrown herself head first into her studies, as she was expected to by her parents (both Anya and their older half-sister Indra had been model students,) had graduated with more honours and awards even than Indra, and had made her flying leap into law school with ease. Lexa had been one of those intensely dedicated students who’d known exactly where she’d been going the moment she started high school. There was never a moment that she wavered from that purpose, that burning ambition to study law. She was a good student, the favourite of most of her teachers (both in high school and in college,) and had been captain of numerous debate teams that had competed at state and national level.
Then she’d graduated law school with even more honours than she’d done in high school, and suddenly she was there. She was where she always wanted to be, where she’d spent her entire schooling life striving towards. She landed a dream job at a law firm in New York, and while she wasn’t at the top of the ladder just yet, she studied under a well-known barrister and earned her stripes on some pretty impressive cases. Before she could blink, years had gone by and she’d climbed the hierarchy until she was sitting on top of that mountain she’d started to scale at the tender age of 14, breathless and elated by the success she’d always taught herself to expect. She had made it.
And then more time passed. She started her own firm with a few colleagues, and further established her name as a prominent one in legal circles. She wrote papers for distinguished journals, and worked on some high profile cases involving all manner of public figures. Celebrities, politicians, the obscenely wealthy – her firm was among the first to be called when anyone worth anything in New York was having legal problems.
Then she turned 36, and something else changed. She supposed it began when her parents died. Her mother first, and her father twelve months later, unable to cope with the loss of his wife. She went to two funerals that year, both equally heartbreaking, and stood with Indra and Anya and Lincoln and the rest of her family as the coffin was lowered. Anya’s twin boys chattered where they stood on the ground, both too young to really understand what was going on. Indra’s daughter, an adult herself, stood by her mother, both women as stony faced as each other. Although she stood next to the people who meant the most to her in all the world, Lexa was struck with a harrowing thought – My family just became a lot smaller.
How much smaller would her family become? When she was the one in the coffin, who would be left standing by, sniffling and holding children close? It was a stupid, selfish thought, she knew, but everything was chaos and wild emotions and unexpected bouts of uncharacteristic tears, and for a moment there, she felt a moment of clarity.
From then on, she felt like almost every baby she encountered – whether it was the chirping kids being wheeled in prams along the streets or Anya’s wild, unruly boys – seemed to be staring right at her, looking into her with wide, questioning eyes. She’d watch her sister pick up her sons and hug them close, and they’d squeal and giggle and writhe free before running off. Her stomach would clench and something in her heart would feel just as restless and wriggling as those little boys.
Calmly, rationally, she thought it all through, like she thought everything in her life through. She had a fantastically high paying job and lived in a fantastically nice penthouse apartment in a fantastically nice part of the city. She could support another ten people in her life if she really wanted to, let alone a single baby. The next thing to consider was simple biology – obviously, Lexa couldn’t make a baby on her own. It’d be nice, but it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Considering IVF wasn’t such a terrifying idea though – given Lexa’s personal preferences to begin with, even if she’d found another person she wanted to have a baby with, they would have had to gone through IVF anyway. Simple biology lesson – you can’t have a baby on your own, and you can’t have a baby with another woman.
So, all that was left was to tell her family.
“I’m getting older,” was what she said to Anya, rather than explaining that this was something that she’d felt coming on over the past year or so, since her parents had died. “Mom always was pestering me to settle down and start a family, you know that.”
“Yeah, but you remember what you always said to her,” Anya reminded her.
“’I’m focusing on my career,’” Lexa chanted. It felt like a mantra. “Which I was. For a long time. I mean, I still am. But things are different now.”
Anya frowned, shaking her head. “Is this because of what happened with Costia? Look, Lexa, I know how it feels to be lonely, and to think you won’t find anyone, but – “
“It has nothing to do with Costia – or my love life in general, for that matter.” Sure, it had hurt when Costia left, and sure, she hadn’t had any action at all since Costia had broken it off, but that was hardly the point. Lexa sighed and looked at her sister imploringly. “Look, I just – I guess I just want what you have.”
One of Anya’s sons wailed from the next room to punctuate the point. There was the sound of the nanny moving around too, quieting down the little boy with a soothing voice. Anya had a good relationship with her nanny, unlike many of the women in the neighbourhood who hired help for their kids. She had a good relationship with her kids too, and her eyes softened. “Lex,” she said, in an uncharacteristically gentle voice, “I... I want you to be happy. And if this is seriously what you think it’s going to take... then I’ll support you in it. Honestly.”
Lexa smiled, and Anya reached out to squeeze her hand. The women in the Woods family weren’t overly emotive – they were tough, and they knew how to fight and persevere for what they wanted. This though, this promise of support and love, even if it was mixed with no small amount of surprise and confusion, was enough for Lexa. At least, enough for now.
* * * * *
Lexa had to wait another week to talk to Indra about her intended addition to the family, since her sister was flying interstate on a business trip. In the meantime, however, she could tell Lincoln.
Lincoln, one of the youngest among their group of siblings and cousins, was a little of a black sheep. While the rest of the family lived in nice apartments or houses in Manhatten, Lincoln lived in a flat in another part of the city. While it wasn’t the most unsightly neighbourhood, it was still Not Manhatten, and that had meant he’d copped a fair amount of disapproval and annoyance from his parents, and the rest of the family. Lincoln had never complained, though – he’d somehow grown from the squealing brat that Lexa had babysat to a level headed and good-humoured man who knew the value of hard work and dedication. Lexa and he had become fast friends as soon as he was old enough to hold an intelligent conversation.
She took the subway to his apartment block, and although she scolded herself for acting like her snobbish mother, she held tight to her bag until she was clear of the crowded platform.
As she’d expected, telling Lincoln was easy.
“A baby?” He smiled, his eyes lighting with genuine happiness. “That’s awesome, Lex!”
Lexa had smiled a little. “I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said, relieved.
“Of course,” he patted her shoulder firmly, leaning back in his seat to grin in amusement. “Man, I can’t even imagine a kid running around your apartment. It’s weird to even think about it – but I’m happy for you, Lexa. Seriously.”
Lexa had frowned, nerves clawing at her insides. “Do – do you think I’ll be a good mother?”
Lincoln had stood and crushed her in a bone-snapping hug. “You’ll be the best mom. I know it.”
On her way back home, there was a woman on the subway who was rocking a pram back and forth with a tired face. Lexa watched the squirming baby inside and smiled when they looked over at her. The baby smiled back, and she felt warm and strange all the way home.
* * * * *
Indra ended up delaying her flight back into New York, and Lexa told herself that this was news to be told face to face rather than over a telephone call, so she decided to wait until Indra touched down. Perhaps it was because she anticipated that Indra was going to be the most difficult about this decision, that Indra’s characteristic blend of brutal honesty and dry lack of sentimentality was likely to shake her confidence in her decision. Either way, Lexa had far bigger things to think about. She’d already talked to her doctor about the prospect of her having a baby a few months ago, and not long after she had made a booking at a fertility clinic for a consultation. She’d circled the day on her calendar with thick red marker and wrote ‘The Big Day’ next to it in her neat, small handwriting. Anya volunteered to come to the clinic her on The Big Day, but Lexa refused. She’d already shared this big, terrifying thing she was doing with her family, this part she was ready to do on her own. Just for this fifteen minute appointment, this was going to be her own thing.
She took the day off work and waited for twenty minutes in a quiet waiting room with pictures of smiling, happy families on the walls. The room was aggressively white, as white as only medical facilities could be. There were home design and celebrity rag magazines on a coffee table and, ironically, toys in the corner for kids to play with. She was pondering the logic behind this when a receptionist called her name in a kind voice, and invited her into the doctor’s office. For a moment, she thought she was going to be too nervous to move, but somehow she watched her feet move in the direction of the office. She felt the weight of a seemingly mundane moment as she stepped through the door. This was it. A decision was being made.
The Doctor was smiling as he shook her hand. It was almost like a business deal, everything was professional and logical and explained clearly.
Step One: Her period was going to be suppressed. No big deal, she had never exactly needed it in the past.
Step Two: For the next week and a half, she’d be dosed up with hormones.
Then, her eggs would be nabbed from inside her, mixed up with a little sperm, and poked back inside her. Bam - Instant baby. Well, not instant.
The sperm, of course, presented a whole other set of challenges and decisions. The receptionist handed her a folder full of files about the sperm donors she could pick from, and kindly told her she could take it home with her and mull it over while she was on her course of hormones. Lexa thanks her, thanked the doctor, and then that was it.
That was how she found herself lounging on Lincoln’s couch with this innocuous-seeming folder open between them, discussing, as ridiculous as it seemed, the potential biological father of her child.
“What about this one,” Lincoln said, tapping the plastic folder. “’blue eyes, brown hair, six feet tall’ – hey, it says he’s a doctor!”
Lexa made an uncertain noise, glancing over the clinical looking file, offering bland, lifeless facts about the traits that may one day define her kid. “I don’t know... how do I even know which of these attributes is a good thing?” She tapped one of the files. “I mean, look at this, this one has brown eyes and black hair. How is he any better than the blue eyed doctor?”
Lincoln leaned forward to peer at the file. “For one thing he’s shorter than you and a bus driver.”
Lexa crossed her arms and leaned back into the lounge. “I think I’m having some kind of delayed reaction to all this.”
Lincoln closed the folder. “You freaking out?”
Lexa blinked. “I don’t freak out. I’m just... I’m just nervous, okay? And kind of overwhelmed by this stuff.”
Lincoln sighed. “You know, this is the unimportant stuff. This is the stuff that doesn’t matter at all. You’re not going to love this kid any less if it has brown eyes rather than blue eyes. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Lexa nodded.
“So,” Lincoln shrugged, “you’ll just make this decision and then forget about it. It’s your baby, after all. Not the brown-eyed-bus-driver’s, or the blue-eyed-doctor’s. It’s yours, Lex.”
Lexa smiled a little. “That... that’s almost more frightening than picking out a donor.”
“What?”
Lexa sighed, and her brow furrowed. “That in a little over nine months, I’m going to have a little person who relies on me entirely, and whose life is completely in my hands.”
Lincoln looked uncertain, but shrugged. “You run a law firm. You hold the lives of people in your hands all the time. Not just clients, but your employees rely on you on a daily basis too. Responsibility has never scared you before, Lexa, and frankly I’d be shocked if it started scaring you now.”
“I’m not scared,” Lexa said at once, straightening up. “I’m just apprehensive.”
“Well, I...” Lincoln hesitated, and Lexa felt something anxious squirm in her stomach. “I mean – Why not wait? I know things have been hard for you since... since Costia, but I promise things will get better, you’ll meet someone, and there’s no need to – “
“This is not about my relationship status,” Lexa said sharply. “For the last time, I do not want a baby because I think my dating life is dead and I want to fill the void in my life with a child.”
Lincoln looked at her and nodded, smiling a little earnestly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I think a little too much Anya came out in me there.”
Lincoln’s words, she knew, were nothing compared to what she was going to get from telling Indra.
When Indra flew in, Lexa knew she couldn’t put it off any longer, and finally told her what was happening. Lexa had sat her half-sister down on the most comfortable couch in her apartment, brought her some iced tea and asked politely how Indra’s daughter was doing. Indra, infinitely perceptive, knew something was happening at once, and put her iced tea down to stare intensely at Lexa.
Lexa felt her heart stutter in her chest – she hadn’t been this nervous in years, not even in the courtroom. With a deep, shuddering breath, she told Indra in what she hoped was a clear, unaffected voice.
As expected, Indra’s first response was an emphatic “Why?”
Lexa frowned and sat up straighter. This was tenser than any client meeting she’d ever been to – and she’d had meetings with murderers. Well, alleged murderers. “I’d like to start my own family, and I’ve reached a stage in my life when this is expected, and is my last chance to do so.”
Indra leaned back in her chair and surveyed Lexa with those severe eyes. “Can I be honest, Lexa?”
Lexa had expected nothing less. She steeled herself nonetheless. “Of course.”
“This is a bad idea.” All the air left Lexa in a disappointed sigh. Indra waved her hand in a shrug. “For starters, you’re not the mothering type. I’m sure you’d be fine at raising a child, but being a mother is about more than just raising – it’s messy, and unpredictable, and it’s exhausting. I just don’t think you’re the type of person who could handle this sort of thing.”
Lexa felt indignation flare inside her. “We’re not so different,” she pointed out. “You and I both think the same way, and yet you have a daughter.”
Indra offered a small shake of the head. “Yes, but it wasn’t only me Soncha was relying on. When she was very small, you’ll recall I had some assistance.”
“You went through the divorce when she was still young,” argued Lexa.
“I did. And then I had a nanny.”
“I will be hiring a nanny,” Lexa retorted. “I don’t intend on staying away from work for any longer than I must.”
“This is what I’m talking about,” Indra said firmly, shaking her head and smiling a little. “You talk about having a child as if it’s going to be a life event you can tick off a shopping list of things you need to get done before you turn forty, and then just forget about it. It doesn’t work like that, you are talking about disrupting every aspect of your life for a very long time.” She was silent for a few moments, before adding, “all I’m telling you is that you need to think this through, Alexandria. You shouldn’t have a child just because you reach a stage in your life and you realise you haven’t had one yet.”
Lexa bristled, her brow furrowed. “That’s not – I didn’t mean – “
“You don’t have to listen to me,” Indra said, almost gently. “You never did anyway. Just make sure you know exactly what you’re doing.”
“I do,” Lexa said firmly, glancing over at the sperm donor folder sitting over on the bookshelf. “I promise, I know what I’m doing.”
* * * * *
Lincoln convinced Lexa to pick the blue eyed doctor as her donor, and after that there was really no more decisions to be made. Lexa was unconscious for the procedure itself, but there was a definite feeling of elation as she came to after it was all done. She didn’t know why she expected the doctor to say something along the lines of ‘congratulations – you’re having a baby!’ but was annoyed when she felt disappointed that this process was just as clinical and businesslike as the rest of it had been.
Lincoln drove her home, and she put a hand over her stomach. Obviously there was not going to be any movement now, she wasn’t an idiot. But still, there was something in there, even if it was still cooking, even if it was only just forming. It was going to be something, a something which would eventually have thoughts and opinions and feelings and ideas all its own. Lexa figured she was having one of those ‘beauty of nature and life’ epiphanies that only pregnant women seemed to have, and put it down to the hormones she’d been on lately. No one could blame her for being a little loopy, right?
There seemed to be a horrible lot of waiting when it came to IVF, and Lexa found herself in another bout of this same, tedious wait. She was going to take a pregnancy test, but knew that the later she left it the more likely it would be accurate. So, she went back to work.
She’d only taken a day or two off over the past couple of weeks, but it was enough to have her throwing herself back into her work as though she’d abandoned it for months. There was a big case taking up her time at the moment, a settlement for a high-profile divorce. Generally she didn’t dabble in family law, but this particular client, a wealthy man in the entertainment industry, had requested her firm specifically. She’d handed the case off to a colleague with more experience in family law (her forte was really more criminal law,) but had taken it upon herself to oversee the whole business.
Ideally, even she knew, it was going to be best not to have to go to court – settling outside court would be the best outcome, and at the moment she and those assigned to the case were hard at work preparing for a meeting with the client’s ex-spouse in a few days. It was a busy time, and she found she was relieved. Busy was what she needed, the more distractions the better. It was already weird enough to resist the urge to just stare at her stomach when she needed to be getting paperwork and records of property ownership together.
So, after a month, she was relieved to be able to take home a pregnancy test kit from the drugstore, throw her bag on the kitchen bench and set about getting a definite answer to this thing. She (and whoever was camping out in her stomach,) were in limbo for the past month – just seeing that definite proof that this was happening would let Lexa start making some more concrete preparations.
She stared at the testing stick, waving it around a little as though she thought somehow that would make it happen any quicker. It didn’t, and she still found herself waiting the couple of minutes she knew she’d have to wait anyway.
One single pink line down the middle of the indicator made Lexa’s heart stop beating and her breath catch in her throat. Not pregnant.
“Okay,” she said to herself, her voice echoing around her empty (and childless,) apartment. “Okay.” The urge to panic was fighting the urge to cry, which was wrestling with the urge to scream. Of course, she was Lexa Woods, so she did none of these things. Instead, she snatched up her keys and bag and made an immediate stop to the fertility clinic.
It occurred to her that she probably should have called first, but the irritated receptionist managed to fit her into the doctor’s schedule, and she only ended up waiting forty five minutes to see the doctor. The wait gave her a chance to calm down, and think rationally. There could be any number of reasons that the test looked like that – maybe it was defective? Maybe she’d done it too early? The rational part of her mind told her that there was no way in hell that test was defective, and that one month into a pregnancy was definitely not too early.
She strolled into the doctor’s office as soon as the door was opened and the receptionist made eye contact with her, about to invite her inside.
Lexa knew that what she wanted was to be 100% sure, even though the pit in her stomach was telling her that she already was 100% sure, she just didn’t want to accept it. All the same, the doctor conducted his own test, and the result came back the same.
“IVF isn’t effective all the time, not by any stretch of the imagination.” The doctor told her gently. “We can try again. But – before you consider anything else, I would recommend a fertility test.”
Lexa agreed at once. Again, she was all about definite, concrete knowledge. The test was uncomfortable, and Lexa felt a rising sense of anxiety. At least at the end of it all, she would know.
Perhaps, this once though, definite, concrete knowledge was not what she wanted.
She listened to the doctor’s words without really hearing him. She knew what he was telling her, what his words meant. Thanking him politely, Lexa left the office, paid the receptionist the clinic’s fee, walked out into the parking lot.
Then she got into her car, leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and, for the first time since she was fourteen, just closed her eyes and cried.
* * * * *
“Maybe this is a sign,” Indra said with a shrug as she took another sip of wine, looking around at her sisters. “Maybe this just isn’t something you’re meant to do.”
“Clearly nature intended I not do it,” Lexa said in a low voice, swirling her wine in the glass. She could have wine now.
Lincoln carried a wheel of cheese over to the coffee table on a platter and set it down gently, sighing sadly. He sat down next to Anya, who was looking at Lexa with a mournful look. “I’m so sorry, Lexa,” Anya said, shaking her head. “I know this is disappointing.”
The room at large bristled. Lexa shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s no matter. I’ll... I’ll just...”
Her words were met with silence. After what seemed like entire minutes of awkward quiet and uncomfortable shifting in seats, Indra broke the silence.
“This isn’t the end of the world,” she said brusquely, with a shrug anyone who didn’t know her well would call heartless. “You’re still healthy, you have a good job and a nice house – things could be far worse.”
“Exactly,” Anya chimed in, nodding wisely. “Lexa, I really think you dodged a bullet here.” When Lexa raised her eyebrows questioningly, Anya huffed and shrugged, almost as haughty as Indra. “It’s just... maybe Indra is right. Maybe this didn’t happen for you for a reason. Babies are... they’re messy, and involved, and I don’t think you were really equipped to handle it, Lex. I mean, not right now. Not on your own.” Anya leaned forward a little, offering a sympathetic look. “I think you might have been rushing into this. Don’t give up on finding someone, Lexa, you don’t have to rush into making a family.”
Indra shrugged. “Some people aren’t the family-making sort anyway. There’s no shame in it.”
Lexa felt at once intensely furious, and sitting there in her favourite armchair, she felt her blood boil. Her family had talked a good game about supporting her in her decisions, but when it all fell apart, they sung quite a different tune. She stared at the floor, glowering. Conviction and determination clashed with disappointment and hopelessness, and she was left feeling angry and exhausted.
Indra disappeared into the kitchen to find some more crackers to put out, and Anya followed her, chattering about some wine she knew Lexa had squirrelled away in the pantry. Lexa leaned back in her chair and let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.
Across the room, Lincoln, who had so far been silent, leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Lexa. I really am.”
Lexa didn’t look up from where her gaze rested upon the carpet. “It’s not your fault.”
“No,” Lincoln shook his head with pursed lips. “I mean, I’m sorry you had to hear all that. From Indra and Anya.”
Huffing a little, Lexa glanced over at her cousin with a puzzled look. “Oh. They... They mean well. They’ve always looked out for me in the past.” It was true. Anya and Indra’s brand of tough love had gotten her through both good and bad times, and was probably the reason for her own dedication, and the colder parts of her personality – so, most of her personality.
Lincoln glanced at the door to the kitchen warily, almost comically unsubtly, and leaned even further forward. Lexa did the same, her eyes narrowing with confusion. “You know,” Lincoln said softly. “I didn’t want to say anything before, but – you know that there’s more than one way to have a baby.”
“Why do you think I tried IVF?” Lexa said sharply.
Lincoln rolled his eyes. “No, I mean besides IVF.”
Lexa crossed her arms. “You don’t mean – I’ve thought about it, Linc, but I – It would...” She fell silent, shaking her head slightly.
“Why not?” Lincoln retorted firmly. “You want a kid, you should be able to have one.” He sighed. “I have a buddy, his girlfriend’s cousin works at a surrogate agency. I can get in touch, maybe get you a number to call.”
Lexa closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. Of course she’d thought about surrogacy, of course she had. Something about the whole process had seemed terrifying, though. All of the Woods family had always had one thing in common – a complete aversion to the mere idea of relying on someone, particularly strangers. The notion of trusting some other woman, a stranger, with something so big and important had all but revolted Lexa.
But, here she was. A woman with trust issues and no kids. Something was going to have to change. She looked over at where Lincoln was still staring over at her with a smile.
She sighed. “Okay.”