Immediate Family by Eileen Goudge

that right. Only it’s not me that’s lost,” she’d replied in disgust, explaining that she’d misplaced her wallet, with all the spending money she had for the semester.
    “Maybe someone turned it in. Have you checked at the proctor’s office?” he’d asked.
    She’d cocked her head, eyeing him curiously. “You’re not from around here, are you?” she’d said, her Brooklyn accent lending her an air of streetwise authority.
    “Is it that obvious?” he’d replied, with a laugh.
    “Where I come from, you lose something, you might as well kiss it good-bye.”
    “In Grantsburg, whoever found it would take out an ad.”
    They’d exchanged smiles, and Jay had urged, “Come on. It’s worth a try. The worst that can happen is it’ll be a wasted trip.”
    Franny had hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”
    They’d started off in the direction of the proctor’s office before he’d remembered to introduce himself. “Jay Gunderson.” He’d paused to stick out his hand.
    “Franny Richman.” She’d worn a faintly bemused expression, as if trying to decide whether he was for real.
    At the proctor’s office she’d been amazed to discover her missing wallet waiting for her, its contents miraculously intact. Afterward they’d wandered over to the student center, where they’d gotten to know each other over coffee and crullers. When Jay had finally glanced at his watch he’d been surprised to see that two hours had passed. From that day on, they’d been inseparable.
    “Listen, I want you to know I meant what I said before,” she was telling him now. “You don’t owe me a thing. I’m not going to twist your arm into coming to every soccer match and parent-teacher meeting. You’ll have plenty of that as it is.”
    “Who says you’d have to twist my arm?” he replied, somewhat defensively. No matter what, it was still his kid.
    “What I mean is, I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
    He put on a mock aggrieved face. “Hey, it’s me, remember? I thought we agreed that this wasn’t going to change anything.” It would defeat the purpose if they had to go from finishing each other’s sentences to monitoring every word. “So are we good?”
    “Yeah.” She let out a breath, and some of the tension seemed to go out of her as well. “It’s just that it’s a little weird, you know. I’ve never been pregnant with my best friend’s kid.”
    “You’ve never been pregnant, period.”
    “True.”
    He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?”
    She nodded, though her expression remained pensive. In the dim light, her dark eyes seemed to take up her whole face. “No regrets?”
    “None.” It wasn’t a lie exactly—he was happy, mainly for Franny—and if he had concerns, it was only natural. She didn’t have to know he worried that this baby would affect more than their friendship, that it would put a strain on his and Vivienne’s relationship as well. “Hey, what’s a little DNA between friends?”
    “Speaking of which, I hope he, or she, inherits your nose.” Franny had always thought hers was too big, though in Jay’s opinion it suited her face perfectly. “Long legs would be nice, too.”
    He laughed. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? It doesn’t even have fingers or toes yet.” He remembered Vivienne’s first sonogram; it had looked more like a thumbprint than anything human. Not until the doctor told them the sex had the baby become real to him, a boy, for whom they already had a name picked out: Stephan, after Jay’s grandfather.
    “Hey, you know me. I’m already looking at schools,” Franny joked.
    “Just promise you won’t become a vegetarian and ban me from entering your apartment if I have so much as a single cat hair on me.” These days, with Vivienne on health watch, their loft felt more like a Zen monastery than a home.
    “I don’t know about cat hairs. But anyone who comes between me and my pork