Backed into a corner, Steve threw his fate into the hands of a metaphysical force that allowed him to disclaim all responsibility for what he was about to do: hitch his wagon to Tracy. About the 2 for 2 pregnancy rate they have going on, he said “Mother Nature is screaming something at me and you and I think it’s about time we listened.” If Mother Nature is telling you anything, Steve, it’s stay away from her or get yourself fixed.
I can’t really blame Steve, I guess. Tracy had me sucked in for a few minutes: ah, wouldn’t it be nice if they could be happy together. Then I pulled myself together: no, run Steve! She will not stop until she’s got you legally ensnared, and if you think Karen was a lot of work and Becky difficult. Roll them together and you still won’t have any nightmare near Tracy as Mrs. McDonald.
I think Tracy might have genuinely felt overwhelmed by the thought of twin babies to care for on her own. Fair enough, also fair enough for Steve to momentarily feel sympathy for her. But then it’s time to snap back to reality.
Tracy, as she said, has been a lousy mother. She tried to sell Amy once, she’s palmed her off on anyone who would look after her throughout her whole life, she’s manipulated and used her repeatedly. She’s been the kind of mother that people write about when they’ve grown up and gone through years of therapy.
The best thing for Steve and the unborn children would be to say, yes, Tracy it will be hard for you so how about I take full responsibility for the babies and raise them on my own, and I could take Amy too. Then you’re free to go to London and work as a florist or start a paid career as a dominatrix in a sado-masochism club.