Mixed Blessings (27 page)

They walked slowly back up to their room, hand in hand, and for the first time in months he made love to her, and it was much, much better than either of them had remembered.

Charlie and Barbara's Christmas was strange. Afterward, that was the only word he could think of to describe it. Peculiar.

Odd. Perhaps even amazing. He cooked Christmas dinner, as usual, and she went to Judi's in the morning, she said, to give her her present.

And for once, Charlie was just as happy to be alone. He had a terrible hangover again, he had been drinking much too heavily, and he knew it.

But he had been trying to absorb what Dr. Pattengill had told him, and be couldn't. He would never get his wife pregnant. Never. A near-zero sperm count. He remembered, too, what the doctor had said about himself, but that didn't help much. He didn't care how many children the Pattengills had adopted. He wanted a baby, his own, with Barb. Now. And he knew he couldn't. Or at least his mind knew, but
 
his heart kept refusing to believe it.

She was back by four o'clock, and full of bounce and excitement. She'd obviously had a few dnnks, and she got playful with him while he was bastihg the turkey, but he just didn't want to play. He had bought her a little fox jacket that she loved, and she went into the bedroom and took off all her clothes, except her black lace panties, and then she came back out in the fur jacket and the panties and high-heel shoes, and all he could do was laugh. She looked so funny and so cute, and it was all so pointless.

"You're a silly broad, you know that?" He smiled and pulled her down next to him on the couch and kissed her. "And I love you."

"I love you too," she said, looking mysterious, and a little tiddly.

He poured her favorite champagne with dinner. The turkey was perfect, and he felt better by the end of dinner. He knew he had to make his peace with it somehow, and then she came and sat on his lap. She was wearing a pink satin dressing gown he had bought her for her birthday, and the view was very inviting.

"Merry Christmas, Barb." He kissed her neck gently, and felt her back arch beneath his hands, and then she pulled away from him and looked at him tenderly. He saw something in her eyes, but he wasn't sure what it was, and then she kissed him.

"I have something to tell you," she whispered.

"Me too . . ." he said hoarsely. "Let's go in the bedroom and I'll tell you-" "Me first," she said, pulling away from him again. "I think you're gonna like this." She looked mischievous and he looked amused as he sat back in his chair and waited.

This better be good. If it isn't, I'm tearing your robe off right here, and to hell with the bedroom." Just being with her raised spirits.

Theas an endless pause as she smiled hesitantly, and then -(told him.

"I'm pregnant."

He stared at her in utter amazement, unable to speak at first, and then slowly he went pale. "Do you mean it?"

"Of course I do. Would I kid you about a thing like that?"

Given what Dr. Pattengill had said, maybe.

"Are you sure?" Could he have been wrong? Could they have been counting someone else's sperm that were too few and too sluggish?

"What makes you think so?"

"For chrissake," she said, looking annoyed as she got off his lap and lit a cigarette from the candles on the table. "Here, I thought you'd be so happy. What is this? The Spanish Inquisition? Yeah, I'm sure.

I went to the doctor two days ago."

"Oh, baby." He closed his eyes, so she wouldn't see the tears there as he held her. "I'm sorry. . . . I just . . . I can't explain it He just held her and cried, and she had no idea why, but he didn't know whether to get down on his knees and thank God, or damn her. Had she been playing around? Was it someone else's child? But without telling her what he knew, he couldn't ask her.

He was strangely quiet for the rest of the day, and she made a few phone calls while he washed up the dishes from dinner.

But it was obvious she hadn't gotten the reaction she expected from him, and she didn't understand it. And then at last they went to bed that night, and he held her, praying that Pattengill had been wrong.

But before he could open his heart up to her, and the baby she said was his, he knew he had to ask him.

It was an endless wait for three days before he could get back in to see the doctor. And he scarcely saw Barbie. She was out with friends, going shopping, and she even said she had an audition the day after Christmas. He didn't question her this time. He didn't say anything.

He had to see PattengiII first.

That was all he wanted. But when he finally sat across the desk from him again, the physician shook his head firmly.

"Charlie, I don't think it can be. I'd like to tell you it is, and I've seen crazier things than that. But it's highly unlikely you fathered that baby. I've had infertility patients surprise me before, but Charlie, believe me . . . I just don't think so. I wish I could tell you something different." Somehow, he had known. He had suspected it all along. All the nights she never came home until he was asleep, all the "girlfriends," the "girls' nights out," the visits to "Judi," the mysterious "auditions," and the "workshops" that never led anywhere. She hadn't had an acting job in months. And he just knew that, no matter how much he wanted it to be, she wasn't carrying his baby.

When he left Pattengill's office, he drove home slowly, and he was almost sorry when he found her there. She was talking to someone when he came in, and she hung up as soon as she saw him.

"Who was that?" he asked noncommittally, as though she were really going to tell him.

"It was Judi. I was telling her about the baby."

"Oh." He turned away so she wouldn't see his face, wishing that he didn't have to tell her, but he knew he had to. And slowly, slowly, wishing the world would come to an end first, he turned to face her.

"We have to talk," he said quietly, and sat down in a chair across from where she sat, looking incredibly sexy.

"Something wrong?" She looked nervously at him and uncrossed her legs, and then she lit another cigarette and waited.

"Yeah."

"Did you lose your job?" She looked genuinely frightened and then relieved when he shook his head. What else could be wrong? He didn't play around, she was sure of that. He was too nice a guy to do that.

"No, it's nothing as simple as that." He went on, "A while back, I went to see a doctor. Right after Thanksgiving."

"What kind of doctor?" she asked, looking nervous.

"A reproductive endocrinologist," he said importantly, "a fertility specialist. You said something a long time ago, about being rised you never got pregnant when we fooled arod and weren't careful. And I guess you got me worried.

So I decided to check things out. And I did......

"And?" She tried to look unimpressed, but she already sensed his answer, and her heart was pounding.

"I'm sterile."

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," she said, and she got up and paced the room. "Maybe he'd like to examine me, to be sure I'm pregnant."

"Are you?" he asked pointedly. There was always the chance she was lying about that, and now he desperately hoped so.

"Of course I am. I can do a test for you, if you'd like to prove it. I'm two months pregnant." It made him wonder what she'd been doing in late October. "The guy's crazy."

"No," Charlie said pointedly. "But I guess I am. What's going on, Barb? Whose baby is it?"

"Yours," she said, and then turned away, her head bowed.

She started to cry, and then slowly she turned to face him.

"Okay, it doesn't matter whose it is . . . it's a rotten thing to do to you, Charlie. I'm sorry." But if he hadn't known, if he hadn't said anything, she would have kept lying, and he knew it.

"I thought you didn't want kids anyway. Why this one?"

"Because . . . I don't know And then she decided it was too late for lies. He knew the truth anyway. He might as well know the rest of her story. "Maybe because I've had too many abortions, maybe because I knew how badly you wanted a baby. . . . Maybe I'm getting old . . . or soft . . or stupid or something. . . . I just thought-" 

"Whose is it?" He was heartbroken to ask her these questions, and they were pointless, except as instruments of torture.

"Just a guy. Someone I met in Vegas. I used to know him a long time ago, and he moved here in October. He said he could get me a job. He had great connections in Vegas. So we got together a few times. I just thought . . ." But she couldn't go on, she was crying.

"Do you love him, or did you do it for a job, or just the fun of it? What does this guy mean to you?"

"Nothing," she said, but she couldn't look Charlie in the eye.

And he suspected that the other man had all the flash he didn't. Thinking that made him wonder if she had ever loved him at all. Maybe it had all been a bad joke from the beginning. And all he'd wanted was a wife and kids, a family, the real thing. But maybe he had no right to it. How could he give a kid a good home if he'd never had one himself? What did he know?

"Why did you do it?" he asked her miserably, crying like a schoolboy.

She looked at him honestly then. "Because you scare me. You want everything-you want everything I ran away from. Every time I get close to you I get scared. You want kids, and family, and all that bullshit that doesn't mean shit to me. I don't want to be tied to anyone. I just can't do that."

He listened to her with tears rolling down his cheeks, she was shattering all his dreams, and she knew it.

"You want to know why I feel that way, Charlie? Maybe you should. I had a family, brothers and sisters, and a mother and father . . and you know what? My brother screwed me for seven years. He started when I was seven, and you know what, my mom let him do it. He was such a difficult' kid, she was afraid he'd get in trouble with the cops if he didn't let off steam,' so that's what I was, his escape valve. I had my first abortion, thanks to him, when I was thirteen, and two more a yea later. And then my father tried to get a piece of the action. Nice family, huh, Charlie? Doesn't that just make you waat to run out and have kids? Yeah, me too. So I left. I went to Vegas', and turned tricks for a year, and then I got a job as a showgisl, and I had a couple more abortions ihere too. And then more here when I got knocked up by an agent. And no, I t want this baby, Charlie, but I figured you did." He did. But not someone else's. But he sat staring at her, aching at what she had just told him.

"I don't know what to say, Barb. I'm sorry for everything, the past, us. I guess we both got a rotten break."

"Yeah." She blew her nose and lit another cigarette. "I' never should have married you. You wanted all that stupid Howdy Doody stuff. I should've told you it's all crap, but I wanted to believe I could do it. But you know what? I can't. I just can't be who you wanted me to be, that sweet little wifey stuff. It's just not me. I thought I'd go nuts sitting here in this apartment, talking about having kids, and watching you vacuum and cook dinner. ck dinner, Charlie, I want to party!"

He closed his eyes as he listened to her. He couldn't believe what she was saying. But it was all true, and he knew it. He opened his eyes and looked at her and wondered if he ever knew her.

"So what do you want to do now?"

"I don't know. I think I'm going to move in with Judi."

"What about the baby?"

"No big deal. I know what to do." She shrugged as though it didn't matter, and he forced himself not to think of how sweet she had looked when she first told him.

"What about the guy? Doesn't he want his kid?"

"I never told him. He's got a wife and three kids in Vegas anyway, I'm sure he'd be real excited about this one."

"I don't know what to say." Charlie felt as though his whole life had been turned inside out, and it had. He could barely think, let alone make important decisions. "Why don't you give me a few days."

"For what?" She looked puzzled.

"To work this out in my head. I don't know what I think or feel or want anymore. I don't know what to tell you."

"You don't have to tell me anything," she said softly, sorry for the first time in her life. "I understand."

He was crying then, and he felt incredibly stupid. She was so worldly wise, so hardened, so used, and he was crying the way he had when people he'd been living with for a year said they couldn't take on a child with asthma. "I'm sorry.......He couldn't stop crying as she took him in her arms and held him, and then she went into their bedroom, and packed up a few things. And a little while later she called a cab and went to Judi's.

But Charlie just sat in a chair and cried all day. He couldn't believe what had happened. He didn't even have the guts to call Mark, because he knew what he would say, that she was trouble, and he was better off without her. But if that was true, why didn't he feel any better? He had never felt worse in his life. He was sterile, and the wife he loved had left him.

Brad and Pilar spent the evening with friends on New Year's Eve, and everyone was amazed when Pilar told them about the baby. She had certainly come full circle in the past year. From inveterate single woman to wife, and now mother. It was a far cry from the way she'd felt about life two decades before, but now her evolution suited her to perfection.

After dinner, the entire group danced to old show tunes, and at midnight they kissed and drank champagne, and Brad and Pilar went home about one-thirty. She was more tired than usual, she liked late nights, but it was also draining explaining their new circumstances to everyone. And ever since she'd been pregnant, she'd noticed she was sleepy.

"People are so funny, aren't they?" Pilar grinned. "I love watching their faces when I tell them I'm pregnant. First, they think I'm kidding, and they don't know what to say, and then they go wild. I love it."

"You're a funny girl." Brad smiled, but he noticed that she winced when he helped her out of the car, and he wasn't sure why. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah . . . I just had a weird cramp, that's all."

"Where?"