Introduction

First comes love, then comes marriage, then . . . things can get a little complicated.

Vanessa wants just one thing for her twenty-ninth birthday: an engagement ring from her longtime boyfriend, Eric. But when the ring turns out to be a mix CD and Eric turns out to be a guy who doesn't want to get married or have children, Vanessa considers a new path to having a family.

When Wendy and her husband, Darren, couldn't have children the old- fashioned way, a sperm donor seemed like the perfect solution. She never imagined she'd have out-of-control twins who'd drive her to cookie binges and scrapbooking while Darren escaped into the virtual world of computer games.

Single and career-driven, Laura didn't need a man to have a baby - at least not one that she ever met. Thanks to an anonymous donor, she shares her life with her adored eight-year-old son, Ian. She'll do anything for Ian - even fill their backyard with a bunch of noisy chickens. But the one thing Ian really wants is something Laura's never been able to give him: a sibling.

Now, to grant Ian's wish, Laura starts a search that will not only change her life but Vanessa's and Wendy's as well...

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Excerpt

1.

Laura

The chickens are getting restless.

It is just past sunrise on a chilly Saturday morning in January, and insomnia kept my brain whirring until after two A.M. Now all I want to do is stay buried under my hypoallergenic faux-down comforter and return to the dream that is already slipping away.

But the chickens have other ideas—assuming their primitive little brains are capable of anything that can be termed an idea. In their coop (which is far too close to my bedroom: poor planning on my part), the birds shriek and cry and say bock-bock-bock, their clucks growing more frantic as the sky grows lighter. Each morning it’s the same, as if they’ve never seen the sun before—which is patently absurd. We live in Southern California; they see almost nothing but sunshine.

In the dream, I’d been kneeling next to a man on a black sand beach, both of us digging up giant clams with our bare hands, prying the shells open and eating the mollusks raw. And yes, I know that sounds like raunchy symbolism, but I’m just extremely fond of shellfish. The man was wearing a tuxedo. And I think he had a tiara on his head. But that was okay because he liked me and I liked him, and my nightly pseudo-erotic dreams are the closest things I’ve had to a date in five years.

Eyes shut, I turn away from the window. Alfredo, the cat, a twenty-pound Maine coon named for my son’s favorite pasta sauce, slinks up from the foot of my bed, settles himself on the pillow next to me, and starts to purr. And then I remember: if you have an independent source of income, reliable domestic help, and an affectionate cat, you’ll never need a man. I didn’t even need a man to get pregnant. At least, not one that I ever met.

So screw the guy in the tiara.

I sense Ian before I hear him, as if the air softens and warms the instant he tiptoes into the room. “Mom! You awake?”

“I am now.” I open my eyes and drink him in, my bony eight-year-old boy with his too-big front teeth, his army-green eyes, and his shaggy brown hair, still shot with leftover streaks of summer blond. He is the sweetest, smartest, most beautiful person I have ever known. There is no one in the world I would rather spend time with. Some days, I still can’t believe he is mine.

But right now, I really wish he would go away.

Monday through Friday I get up at 6:15 A.M. so I can take a too-short shower, put on a conservative skirt, blouse, and control-top panty hose, and join Ian for a hot breakfast (eggs, usually) before heading off to my office in Santa Ana, where I practice estate law while downing countless cups of mediocre coffee. Carmen, our nanny/housekeeper, takes Ian to school.

Unless Ian has a soccer game or other activity, weekends are my time to sleep a little later, trying in vain to recover from my increasingly common insomnia before launching into household projects. Single parenthood can be exhausting at times, but I chose this life, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Feed the chickens,” I mumble. “Then let them free-range.” The chickens are quieter out of their coop; perhaps I can sneak in a little more sleep.

Ian puts his head next to mine on a tiny patch of pillow and reaches over my shoulder to stroke the cat. “You said we could sit outside this morning and watch the chickens lay eggs.”

Ian has become obsessed with catching the chickens in the act of laying. It is vaguely disturbing.

“I said some morning. I didn’t say today. It’s cold out.”

“Please, Mommy?”

These days, Ian only calls me Mommy when he wants to soften me up. But then, the chickens were Ian’s birthday present from me last spring, so I deserve this.

I reach my arms around his angular body, luxuriating in his warmth and little-boy smell. “You win. But you need to put on a coat. And I need to make coffee. You want hot chocolate?”

“With whipped cream,” he says. “And marshmallows.”

I kiss his shaggy hair. “Anything for you.”

It’s not just an expression. I really will do—in fact, pretty much do do—anything for my son. During his cheetah phase, I took him to the San Diego Wild Animal Park. When he moved on to dolphins, we headed to Sea World. I have seldom turned down a request for a playdate, sleepover, or pool party, and we take a vacation every August. In the years before Ian received chickens and a coop for his birthday, he racked up a Wii, an iPod, a fully stocked saltwater aquarium, and Alfredo the cat. For Christmas I gave him a piano.

More than things, though, I give him time and love and attention. Although I practice law, we are not wealthy. I took myself off the partner track when I became pregnant and have been content with regular hours and a solid, steady income. We live in a three-bedroom ranch house in Fullerton, a pleasant suburban town in north Orange County, California. I drive a five-year-old Honda Accord. It is enough. No, it is more than enough.

Of course, I worry that I’m spoiling Ian, that he will suddenly turn bratty and ungrateful or that he will be crumple in the face of life’s disappointments. But here’s the thing: the more I give him, the greater he shines with curiosity about the world, the more he trembles with appreciation for all living things.

So, yes, I will do anything for my son. Because I love him so very much. And because the sad truth is that the one thing he really wants, the only thing he’s requested for every birthday and every Christmas since he was old enough to talk, is something I haven’t been able to give him.

Ian wants a sibling. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

1. What did you think of Laura, Wendy and Vanessa when they were first introduced? Did you sympathize with one character more than the others? Did your opinion of the women change as the novel progressed?

2. What was your reaction when Vanessa didn’t get an engagement ring for her birthday from Eric? Did you feel like her anger was justified? Were her expectations in the relationship reasonable? How would you have reacted in that situation if you were Vanessa?

3. On page 16 Wendy says that when she and Darren were trying to become pregnant the very idea of being childless sent her into a depression and she states, “How could I ever lead a full life without a house full of little people to call my own?” How do you feel about this statement? Do you think it is possible for a person to lead a full life without children of their own?

4. Discuss the differences between Laura and Wendy’s parenting style. Do you think one of them parents better than the other? If so, why? What sort of parenting style do you think is most effective?

5. After Eric learns that his sperm donation gave life to Laura’s son Ian he tells Vanessa, “He’s not my child. He was conceived with my sperm, but he’s not mine” (page 125). What do you think about this statement? Do you think that a sperm donor is only a donor and should not be called a “father?” What should a donor’s role be, if any, in that a child’s life?

6. When we are first introduced to Wendy’s children, Wendy is adamant about not wanting the school psychologist to label them with having behavioral issues. Yet throughout the novel, she desperately seeks to find a reason for their unruly actions. Why do you think this is? What sorts of labels do adults frequently place on children? How does this affect their childhood?

7. How did you feel when Eric decided to meet Laura and then re-donate his sperm? Did you understand his decision? Do you think Vanessa should have been given an opinion in the process?

8. During Wendy’s scrapbooking party, Wendy remembers Sherry saying that she thought Wendy was being selfish for using a sperm donor. Sherry goes on to state that to get pregnant by a stranger instead of adoption shows that “it’s all about you and your ego that you have to have a kid with your genes” (page 210). Do you agree with Sherry? If you were Wendy, what would you have said in response?

9. How did you react to Wendy’s confession that she slept with Lane? At that moment did you think there was a chance that Darren wasn’t the father of Harrison and Sydney?

10. Why do you think Eric chose to get back in touch with Laura and Ian? Do you think he wanted to donate again? Do you think his feelings for Laura and Ian were sincere?

11. Throughout the novel, the story moves between the perspectives of Laura, Wendy and Vanessa. What knowledge do you gain by the story being told in this format? Did you find that this style provides you with a better understanding of the characters?

12. What did you know about IUI and IVF prior to reading this novel? Have your thoughts about the process changed after reading about these women?

13. Discuss the title of this novel. In what ways does it relate to the story and its characters?

14. Imagine what the lives of these characters are like after the novel. What role will Eric play in Ian’s life? What will become of Vanessa and Eric’s relationship? How about Wendy and Darren’s relationship?

Weblinks

»	Publisher's Book Info
»	Author Carol Snow's web site
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