That confession out of the way, her words began to flow faster. “I didn’t know how expensive everything would be—the diapers, the formula, not to mention day care. I mean, I’m already back at work, because my job doesn’t have paid maternity leave, and I’m barely getting by. So I’m picking up extra work, giving private guitar lessons to kids in the evenings and on weekends, but that cuts into the little time I have with Zoe, and I feel like I barely see her, and I’m always so exhausted when I do see her that I find myself counting the minutes until her nap or her bedtime. And I feel so horrible admitting that, but it’s true and . . .” She shook her head, trailing off.
The family lawyer in Victoria felt compelled to ask, “So you’ve tried making arrangements with Zoe’s father? And he’s refused to take on any financial responsibility?”
Nicole bit her lip. “Well, here’s the thing: I don’t exactly know who Zoe’s father is.”
Oh. “Meaning, there’s more than one guy who could’ve gotten you pregnant?”
“No, it’s definitely the one guy. I just don’t know who he is.” Nicole blushed. “It was a one-night stand. My girlfriends and I went out for my twenty-fifth birthday, and I got really buzzed. I started talking to this guy and one thing led to another and we went back to my place, and—surprise!—a few weeks later I realized I was pregnant. Which is crazy, because I know we used a condom. But maybe there was a second time, or the thing slipped, I don’t know. ‘User error.’ That’s what my OB called it.” She glanced over at Zoe. “I thought about not keeping the baby, but . . . I just felt this bond with her from the moment I found out I was pregnant. And it’s not like I thought being a single mom was going to be easy.” She looked at Victoria with tired eyes. “But I didn’t realize it would be this hard, you know?”
The words took Victoria back to a memory of her own mother, lying in a hospital bed looking tired and frail.
I just didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know it would be so hard.
“So, what’s the plan here?” she asked Nicole, rather bluntly. “You asked me about child support payments, but I’m thinking you need to know who the father is first. Courts are sort of sticklers about that.”
“Well, I do know his name,” Nicole said. “Peter Sutter. Hopefully with that, I can find him somehow. That’s why I want to talk to Ford. He’s an investigative reporter—he has access to all sorts of people-search databases and stuff. I figure he can help me find Peter Sutter, then . . . I’ll just tell him about Zoe and demand that he help out financially. She’s his responsibility, too—it takes two people to make a baby, after all.” She said this without hesitation, as if the whole plan was settled.
Right.
From both personal and professional experience, Victoria had a slightly more realistic view of things.
“And when, assuming you can find this Peter Sutter, he tells you to take a hike—what then?” she asked Nicole. “When he refuses to take the paternity test, because he doesn’t remember you, or because he doesn’t want to be a dad, or because he’s married with three kids and he was cheating on his wife when he hooked up with you and doesn’t want to get busted—what happens after that? Or maybe you do manage to prove that he’s the father, but then he lawyers up and fights back against every child support payment, because he’s a deadbeat, or because he doesn’t think he should have to pay his whole life for one ‘mistake,’ or because he’s some rich asshole who thinks you’re a gold digger who’s after his money. The point is, Nicole, this guy could be anyone, he could be broke, or just a selfish jerk who doesn’t care one bit about his responsibilities. And it may be a long time before you see any money from him—if you do find him—which means you can’t count on this man to solve your problems. You are going to have to find some way to do this on your own. I know it’s tough being a single mother, but you are all your daughter has, the only person she can depend on, and she needs you to be there. She needs to know, no matter whatever else is going in her world, that you can do this. So you’re just going to have to suck it up, pull it together, and figure out how you’re going to make this work even if you never get one dime from the guy.”
Nicole blinked in surprise.
Victoria paused, equally surprised.
Oh, shit.
That whole speech had just spilled out, way too vehemently. Realizing she needed to say something fast, she pointed, covering. “And that is exactly the kind of tough-love speech I would give you if I was the lawyer handling your case.”
Nicole looked confused for a moment, and then she broke into a wide smile. “Wait—you want to take on my case?”
Uh-oh. “Well, I said if I was the—”
“This is so great!” Nicole clapped her hands in excitement.
Before Victoria could clarify the misunderstanding, Zoe woke up with a start. She opened her eyes, looked around the room for a second, then spit out her pacifier and let out an indignant wail.
“Oops. Sweetie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Nicole made a face at Victoria as she reached into the stroller. “Duh. That was dumb of me.” She scooped up Zoe and held her against her chest and shoulder, rubbing the baby’s back with a Shh.
Zoe kept right on howling.
“She’s probably hungry.” Looking flustered, Nicole began digging around in a diaper bag strapped to the stroller handle while balancing Zoe with one arm. She pulled out a bottle and a yellow packet of formula.
“Would you mind taking her for a minute while I mix this?” she asked Victoria.
Little Zoe, with her red, scrunched-up face, looked less than enthused about this idea. Still, it wasn’t like Victoria could refuse. “Of course.” Naturally, she could hold a baby for a few minutes. She used to babysit back in high school; it wasn’t as though she’d never held an infant before. Just . . . not in a really long time.
Nicole’s left hand was full so she couldn’t just plunk Zoe into Victoria’s arms, so Victoria reached over and semi-awkwardly lifted the baby into her lap.
Okay. That wasn’t too bad. She could do this.
“Hi,” she said, smiling down at Zoe.
Zoe let out a yell of outrage.