Monday morning. Rainy day. Gab peeped out to see grey sheets of water hitting the windowpane and promptly hid back under the covers. Seconds later, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

“Gabbyyyyyyy. Gaaaabby?” It was Libby and Tyler. Aged four and six, Gab found them pretty cute. But this wasn’t what Gab needed right now. Mind you, when she opened the door and they bounded onto the bed and wanted to snuggle with her and tell stories, she felt rather appeased. Still tired, though.

The kids hung out with her for several hours, Gab’s patience ebbing and flowing, now less, now more. She wondered how she would cope with her own tiny person, all the time. Jack had been one thing—at least she’d still been able to go to school, mostly. She wondered about uni as she built block towers with Libby and Tyler. She really wanted to keep studying, to learn and expand her horizons. She wanted to work and do some good in the world. Was it even possible? Gab felt hopelessly defeated at the thought of giving it up so soon … she had finally got there, found a home, started the course she wanted and figured out how to get around. Plus, Jack was okay and for the first time ever, she had physical space from her mum. And now, it was all crashing down around her only a few months in, and all because of one stupid night when she’d let her hair down for a few hours. A few hours!! She fought the sudden urge to smash the block tower she’d been building, and it scared her. She wasn’t capable of being a mother! She’d felt annoyed when Libby and Tyler had come in that morning, and bored with their games at times. And now she wanted to smash their stupid block towers!

“Are you having a baby, Gabby?” Libby asked all of a sudden, pulling Gab out of her mental vortex. “Mummy told me not to ask you.”

“Oh, um, yeah … maybe,” said Gab.

“What do you mean, maybe?” asked Libby. Gab grimaced; she’d stuck her foot in it.

“Is it in your tummy or not?” Libby continued, with more than a hint of her mother’s directness.

“Yeah,” said Gab.

“Is it a boy or girl?” asked Libby. “I hope it’s a girl! You could call it Posie. Or Benita. I have a doll called Benita.”

“I want it to be a boy!” frowned Tyler. “And his name should be Tyler.”

Gab smirked.

“It’s a surprise,” she told the kids.

“But how will you know what clothes to buy?” asked Libby. “Blue or pink?”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” said Gab. “Girls can wear blue and boys can wear pink, if they want.”

“No, they can’t!” argued Tyler.

“Well, they can actually!” said Libby, deciding suddenly to side with Gab. Her additional two years of age were helpful in grasping this. “And they can wear yellow and white and red and purple. Even rainbow!”

“You forgot green!” said Tyler. “That’s my favourite colour.”

At that moment, Mr. C. knocked on the door.

“Sorry Gab,” he said, “I hope the kids haven’t been bothering you too much.”

“Dadddddyyyy, we never bother!” chided Libby. Mr. C. raised his eyebrows and winked at Gab.

“Nah, it’s fine Mr. C. It’s all good.”

“I saw you do winky-eye, Daddy! What did it mean?” demanded Libby. Nothing got past her!

“Time for a walk to the park, you munchkins,” said Mr. C. swinging a child up onto each side of his waist. They went off singing ‘The Ants Go Marching’ and Gab was left sitting amongst a land of block towers, animals and weird square-shaped block-people.

A few moments later, Melinda knocked at the door.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

“Yep,” said Gab. “Come in.” Melinda sat down at the small, round kitchen table. Gab got up off the floor and joined her there.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” said Melinda to Gab.

“Oh,” said Gab. “Good things or bad things?” She wondered if Melinda had suddenly changed her mind about the rental offer. She felt hope and disappointment at once.

“Oh, nothing like that,” smiled Melinda, though a little tersely. “I’ve been thinking about the father of your baby.” Gab stiffened. Melinda’s directness was still jarring.

“It’s okay, Mel, really,” said Gab, trying to diffuse tension and redirect the conversation.

“The thing is, honey,” said Mel, “it’s not okay. That little baby has the right to know its father. He or she will ask about their daddy. They’ll notice very quickly that other kids have a dad and that they don’t.”

Internally, Gab bristled. So what?! she wanted to say. But she didn’t. There was no point biting the hand that was feeding her—tonight’s meal, anyhow. So, she was quiet and unknowingly frowned a little.

“Kids always do better with both parents,” continued Melinda. “They have a right to both parents. It’s just how things are.” Melinda got up. “Anyhow, I’ll give you some space to think about it. You know my thoughts on the topic.” Gab was silent. Melinda turned as she reached the door. “You know it’s not a criticism, Gab. I’m just trying to help, okay?” She smiled. Gab sat still, unmoving. A little unnerved, Melinda turned back towards the door.

Just as she pulled it open, Gab stood up, compelled, pushed, and said, “I grew up without a dad, Melinda.”