Dina had been married longer than all of them. That made her the expert on marriage. Abigail’s entanglement with Donovan’s best friend, Kent, made her the spy. She pumped Kent for information that Donovan might not share with Becca because she was closer to the situation. The only thing Abigail was able to come up with was Donovan was concerned about the five pounds he gained since being married.

But, Dina on the other hand, was a wealth of information. “Honey, I’ve had to dig my way out of a hole so many times, I should go into construction.” Given Donovan’s stance on children, with his help, Becca was in a hole. A big hole. The Grand Canyon was small compared to the crater this was going to create in their lives.

At first, Dina wasn’t sympathetic to the cause. “Everyone knows the rhyme.”

Abigail and Becca shared a confused look.

Dina rolled her eyes. “We sang it all the time in second grade. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage.”

It was enough to stress Becca to tears. They had done it in reverse. For them, it was marriage and then love. That had to be a sign that things weren’t going to end well. She stepped off the stationary bike. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Hey, it isn’t that bad,” Dina rushed to her side. “And this is hormones.”

Becca inhaled a breath to pull herself together. “No, this is Donovan never wanted to have children.”

“Most men say that. And then when the baby gets here, they fall in love.”

“Did most men have a vasectomy?” Maybe it would be easier if Becca ran away from home.

“We’ll get you through this.” Dina wrapped her arm around Becca’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. I promise.”

With that, Dina began teaching arguing 101. The three friends pedaled on stationary bikes and discussed the variety of ways Donovan could respond when Becca broke the news to him. First came disbelief. Then came the accusation of sabotaging the birth control, followed by the rant of how she ruined their lives. Then came the suggestion: butter him up.

“The trick is you have to have him in a state of almost bliss with where you are in your lives. You know, nice dinner and a back rub. Maybe bring him some snacks while he is watching the game. This is better if his team wins, but you have to work with the circumstances you’re given. Or wait for a really good play, and when they turn to go to a commercial, you break the news to him. That’s even better because when the game comes back on, he’ll want to go back to watching it. If there ever was an argument, he’ll want to drop it.”

Through breaths ragged from riding the bike, Abigail asked, “This is how you dig yourself out of holes with Rhett?”

“Every time?”

“And it works?” A fourth voice joined the collaboration. The aerobics instructor who was walking by at the time overheard what they were talking about and stopped to catch the end of the conversation.

By the time they finished their cooling stretches, a small group of women had formed a support system that addressed what to do if everything went right, and a backup plan for just in case it didn’t. 

As soon as husband and wife walked through the front door of their home, Becca launched into her plan to tell her husband that they were about to enter the next stage in their adult life. Parenthood. The thought made her stomach lurch. They had been single for so long, the idea of a third person alternated between exhilarating and unnerving Abigail. One minute she was thrilled about the possibility and the next she feared not only ruining her life but that of the child she was carrying.

“Are you okay?” It was almost like Donovan could read her mind.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered and then regretted it. There was her chance to tell him. Then again, she hadn’t done anything to prepare him. Pulling the plan to the front of her mind, she added, “I was wondering if you wanted me to make some nachos for you while you watched the game.”

“It’s a bi week. No game this week.” He pulled her into him. “Which means we can play a little contact sport of our own.”

Becca placed her hand on his chest and stepped back to loosen his grip on her waist. “A back rub. Do you want a back rub?” Determined to tell him as soon as possible, Becca hurried to get to his back before he turned to face her. She kneaded his shoulders to give him a sample of what was to come. Keeping secrets was not her forte. That, and the sooner he knew what was happening, the quicker they could get on with the next steps.

Her intention was to guide him to the couch where he could lay down and get the full benefit of the back rub.

He placed his hands on hers and rotated. Holding both her hands in his, he cut to the chase. “You want something. There isn’t much you could ask for that I’d refuse you. So out with it.”

The truth was more than she was able to contain. Becca blurted, “I’m pregnant.” She bit her lip and held her breath in anticipation of Donovan’s reaction.

It wasn’t as immediate as she expected. The process was so slow; she practically saw the gears in his head move. First, the freeze as the information went from his ears to his head. Then the eyes widening and contracting as the impact of the information began sinking in. Finally, he loosened his grip on her hands. Donovan took two steps away from her. “That is impossible.”

Her hands, chilled from the absence of his touch, went into her pockets for comfort she instinctively knew he wasn’t going to provide. This was the last thing, the only thing Donovan didn’t want. He had said it so many times; she almost wondered if she should have got him drunk before telling him. Becca frowned. “I thought the same thing. Then the doctor said that sometimes vasectomies repair themselves.”

“You’re blaming me.”

Becca almost wished they weren’t standing so close together. Then she wouldn’t have seen the disbelief followed by the shadow in his eyes. He thought she was lying to him about more than the pregnancy. She stepped away in preparation for the barrage of accusations. The doctor said it might happen.

She softened her voice. “No, I was explaining how it was possible.”

“What’s his name?” Donovan demanded. When she didn’t answer, he asked, “How far along are you?”

“Six weeks.” Her heart pleaded with him to see that she had been faithful to him.

His eyes went to the ceiling as though he were reading an invisible calendar. “I was in Helena giving a presentation on grizzly migration three weeks ago.” He continued with the details of the past, “Five weeks ago it was Missoula. How can you be so certain it’s six weeks? What if you’re off by a week?”

It pained her, but she knew any effort she attempted to get him to believe the child was his was useless. “You need some time. I get it.”

“Time for what? Time to get used to the fact that you’re trying to pin me down with some other man’s child?”

The accusation stabbed her heart and lodged itself somewhere in the pit of her stomach. Becca expected the insults. She hadn’t expected them to cut so deep.

“Don’t think crying is going to work on me either.”

She motioned to move in the direction of their, his, bedroom. Her heart raced in her chest. They had bickered back and forth over the years, but she and Donovan had never argued. They had lived by the creed “It is better to be happy than right.” If he was right, it might have made a difference. But he wasn't, and it made the argument that much worse.

Donovan stepped in front of her. “You couldn't make it to six months. Six months was all I asked for."

Becca knew from the advice he’d given her over the years, that Donovan had a severe side to him. The number, six months, was a slap of reality. She had been right all along. He had no intention of being with her for longer than six months. It did little to soften the blow of being the recipient of it. But it didn't hurt as bad as she thought it would. She didn't feel like she was going to die.

Steeling herself for what was to come, Becca made a mental list of what to pack. "Can you step out of the way?"

"Why?"

"Rules to a breakup number one." She held up her finger, "Assert the prepared boundaries. I believe you said 'six months.'" Her index finger joined the pointer to make number two. "In a couple seconds, you will initiate the second rule. Make a clean cut. They heal faster."

Donovan's mouth opened, but it failed to produce any words. She had him.

"Let me say it for you. It's time we took a break. We don't want to say anything we'll regret later."

"Things are done between us," Donovan yelled. "Done."

Becca flinched and quickly recovered. The stress had an adverse effect on her, and she found a calm within herself. It had to be shock.

"Can you move so I can get a bag packed?"

He stepped aside and went into the kitchen. Becca packed enough to get her through the weekend. This was a day by day plan. If he didn’t calm down, she’d come by when he wasn’t at the house and get more of her clothes. 

Donovan kept his gaze on the wall on the far side of the room. When she got to the door, he said, "I might have been able to forgive an affair, but I told you from the beginning I didn't want a child."

Becca replied, "Be careful about what you wish for Donovan. It might come true." She closed the door behind her.