Mixed Blessings (32 page)

She nodded, trying to believe he was right. And he had to fight himself to keep his hands off her. And despite all his promises to himself to behave when he saw her, he leaned over and kissed her, but she didn't move away, and her eyes were damp when the kiss ended.

"I still love you, you know," she whispered in the wind, as she sat close to him. "That's never going to change. I just didn't think it was good for us to be together anymore." Then suddenly she laughed, thinking of Wanda. "Wanda was the worst, wasn't she? But my sense of humor was all shot to hell by then. It was only a couple of days ago that I started thinking how funny and awful it was. It made me want to call you."

"I wish you had." He'd been desperate for her since she left, and he would have been thrilled if she'd called him. "You blew it for me, of course. Wanda chose the other guy. Her husband said Wanda just wasn't comfortable with your karma."

"I love it. I hope she has quadruplets. Why do people do things like that to themselves?" she asked, looking out at the ocean. There was a gray haze on the horizon, and the sun was setting slowly.

"You mean look for surrogates? Because they get so desperate, just like we did. And in Wanda's case, I guess she sees herself as Mother Teresa."

"I think the money plays a big part in it. It's kind of a sick thing, because the buyers are so desperate and the sellers know it."

"That's the story of life, I guess. I'm glad your karma was so lousy at lunch. That would have been a disaster."

"I think I was half out of my mind by then, or possibly even more than half." But she seemed very sane now, and very calm, and he had never loved her more than he did at this moment.

They walked slowly back to her house, and they talked for hours, about other things finally than infertility and babies.

There had to be something else in their lives, and maybe now there could be. But when they'd been going through it, it had been all-consuming. It had been like that for the entire time they were married, They didn't even bother to eat dinner that night, and when he finally got up to leave, they were both surprised that it was midnight.

"Would you like to go out tomorrow night?" he asked, terrified she would get angry at him and refuse, but slowly she nodded.

"I'd like that."

"How about Chianti?" It was a simple Italian restaurant on Melrose with great food, and they both loved it. "And maybe a movie."

"That sounds nice." He kissed her again then, and they both felt like kids when he left. She watched him go, and she waved.

And then she walked out on her terrace and stood for a long time, staring at the ocean.

Charlie went back to Palms Park several times, hoping he would find Annabelle and Beth, and he did. They chatted and played ball, but he never dared to ask for Beth's number. He couldn't figure out if she was married anyway, she didn't wear a ring, but she never said anything about being divorced either. Charlie loved watching them, and Annie was adorable with her missing teeth, and her excitement about everything. And her mother was always pleasant to talk to. It was nice just watching them be a family and enjoy each other.

He felt as though they were old friends by the third time they met in early March, and it was then that Beth started opening up with him.

She talked about Annabelle being in kindergarten, and said that she worked at UCLA Medical Center nearby, as a nurse's aide. She had wanted to be an R.N but hadn't been able to finish her training.

They had only known each other for a few weeks, but he felt surprisingly comfortable with her, as they sat on a bench and watched Annabelle play hopscotch. He had brought her a lollipop, just in case they were there. He was eating lunch at the park almost every day, just so he could see them.

"I've got a cold," Annie announced to him when she came back to where they were sitting, but she seemed to be in good spirits. And a moment later, she went back to the swing, which gave him a chance to talk to her mother.

"She's wonderful," he said warmly.

"I know. She's a great kid." And then she turned to him with a shy smile. "Thank you for being so nice to her . . . the candy, the gum, the lollipops. You must like kids."

"I do," he nodded.

"Do you have any of your own?"

"I . . . no . . . not yet . . ." And then he realized what he'd said, and forced himself to change it. "No, I don't. And I probably never will," he said cryptically, "but that's a long story." She wondered if his wife couldn't have any, or if he even had a wife, but she was too shy to ask, and he didn't explain it. "I'd like to adopt some kids someday. I was an orphan, and I know what it means to need a family and not have one." He didn't tell her how many foster homes he'd been in, or how many people had turned him away because of his allergies and his asthma. The nicest family he'd ever known had had a cat and he couldn't live there. And they said it would have just broken their heart to give their cat up. So they gave up Charlie.

"That's tough on a kid.......d like to change that for someone, before it's all over." He smiled. He'd thought about that a lot recently.

He was even thinking of adopting a child as a single parent. He knew people were doing that, and when he had some more money saved up, he was going to check it out. And in the meantime he had his Little League kids, whom he played with every weekend.

"That's a nice thing to do." Beth smiled. "I was an orphan too. My parents died when I was twelve. I grew up with my aunt, and I ran away when I was sixteen and got married. It was a stupid thing to do, but I got mine in spades. I wound up with a man who drank and cheated and lied and beat me up every chance he got. I don't know why I stayed with him, except by the time I wanted to leave, I was pregnant. I had Annie when I was eighteen." That made her twenty-four now, which seemed amazing, she seemed a lot more mature than most girls her age, and it was obvious that she was a good mother.

"What happened? How'd you get away from him?" Charlie was horrified at the idea of anyone slapping a woman around, particularly a girl as nice as she was.

"He walked out on me, and I never heard from him again.

He had someone else, I guess, and six months later he died in a bar fight. Annie was a year old and I came back here, and that's been it ever since. I work in a hospital at night so I can be with Annie all day, and my neighbor listens for her, so I don't have to pay a sitter."

"Sounds like a pretty good arrangement."

"It works for us. I'd like to go back to school eventually, to get my R.N. Maybe someday." Listening to her, Charlie wanted to do anything he could to help her.

"Where do you live?" He was suddenly curious to know more about her.

"Just a few blocks from here, on Montana." She told him the address and he nodded. It was a poorer part of Santa Monica, but respectable, and they were probably safe there.

"Would you like to have dinner sometime?" he asked, after they watched Annie on the swing for a few more minutes. "You could bring Annabelle. Does she like pizza?"

"She loves it."

"How about tomorrow night?"

"That sounds great. I don't have to be at the hospital till eleven. I leave the house around ten o'clock, and I come home at seven-thirty in the morning, in time to get her ready for school and make breakfast.

And then I sleep for a few hours before I pick her up. It works out pretty well." They had worked out their own system, and it worked for them. But he felt sorry for Beth, having so much responsibility on her shoulders, and no one to help her.

"It doesn't sound like you get much sleep," he said gently.

"I don't need much, I'm used to it. I get about three hours in the morning, while Annie's at school, and I have a nap when she goes to bed at night, before I leave for work."

"That doesn't leave much time for fun," he commented sympathetically as Annie bounded over to him. She seemed to be feeling better. And Beth told her about the invitation to pizza.

"With Charlie?" She looked surprised and pleased and her mother nodded, looking happy too. She was pretty and young, and she hadn't had room for a man in her life for a long time.

But seeing Charlie suddenly made her feel different. "Wow!

Can we go out for ice cream too?" Annie asked him and he laughed.

"Sure." It made him feel good just being with them, and he watched the little girl as she went back to the swings. Seeing her half made him want a child of his own again, and half made him realize that he didn't have to have one. There were other children in the world who would cross his path, and warm his heart, just as she did. And lately he had begun to feel that there was also something very pleasant about having his freedom.

Mark had tried to tell him that, but he was finding it out for himself now. He glanced at Annabelle, and then he and Beth exchanged a warm smile as they both wondered about the future.

This time Pilar didn't have the heart to do the pregnancy test the minute she was late. She was afraid it would be negative anyway, her body was probably still too upset after the miscarriage The doctor had told them their chances of success the first time they did artificial insemination again were slight. So she waited. And waited.

And after a week, Brad threatened to do the test himself if she didn't do it.

"I don't want to know," she said miserably.

"Well, I do."

"I'm sure I'm not pregnant." But he wasn't as sure, she was tired all the time, and her breasts were larger and tender. And there was something about her that made him suspect it.

"Do the test!" he argued. But she said she couldn't face it agarn, and she wanted to give up the clomiphene. She hadn't taken it since her last period anyway, but she didn't want to start it again if she found she wasn't pregnant. She was beginning to think that the stress it caused her was just too disruptive.

Brad called her local gynecologist, Dr. Parker, finally, and they agreed that she was scared. He told Brad to bring her in to the office and he'd check her there, and as soon as he did, he suspected that she was pregnant. They did a urine test and it was positive. Pilar was definitely pregnant.

She looked weak with delight, and Brad was thrilled. After all she'd been through by now, he really wanted her to have this baby. They prescribed progesterone suppositories for her, to keep her progesterone levels up and help support the pregnancy, and the rest was up to Mother Nature. The doctor warned her that she could miscarry again, and it was possible that she'd never carry a pregnancy to term. Nobody could tell her what was going to happen.

"I'm going to stay in bed for the next three months," she said with a terrified look in her eyes, but Dr. Parker insisted she didn't have to. And then they called Dr. Ward to tell her that the insemination had been a success, and on the way home Brad insisted that it was that movie.

"You're hopeless." She grinned, feeling scared, and excited, and happy. But she was so afraid she would lose it again, and this time they agreed not to tell anyone until after she was twelve weeks pregnant, and out of danger of a miscarriage.

But there were still a million other things that could go wrong, she reminded Brad later that night. She could have a late miscarriage, or even a stillbirth. The baby could die in utero, strangled by the cord, or for a multiple of ghastly reasons. Or it could suffer from Down syndrome, as a result of her age, there was a high risk of that, or spina bifida. Her head swam as she counted off the possible disasters, and Brad shook his head as he listened.

"Just shut up and take it easy. What about flat feet or a low IQ, or Alzheimer's when the kid gets old enough to get it? Why don't you just relax, sweetheart, or you're going to be hysterical by the time you have this baby."

But when she had a sonogram at nine weeks, they were both hysterical, and so was Dr. Parker. She was having twins, there was absolutely no doubt, and they were fraternal. There were two amniotic sacs and Pilar cried with joy, as they watched their tiny hearts beat.

"Oh, my God, what now!" she said in amazement. "We have to get two of everything," she said, still totally overwhelmed by the realization that she was having two babies.

"What we have to do now," the doctor said firmly, "is have one mom take it very easy for the next eight months. I hope that's okay with both of you, because otherwise we're in for trouble. We don't want to lose these guys."

"God, no," Pilar said, closing her eyes, knowing only too well she couldn't bear it.

In March, Andy started spending more and more time at the beach with his wife. Diana finally let him spend the night with her a month after he'd found her.

"I don't want to go back to the house," she'd said quietly, and he understood that. Not yet at least. She still needed time, and they were happy in Malibu together, in her little cottage.

He came there straight from work every day, and he brought her little gifts and flowers. She cooked dinner for him sometimes, and more often than not they went out to their favorite places. It was a special time of recovery for them, and rediscovery of who they were, and how much they meant to each other.

It was early April before she went back to their house again, and she was surprised to realize how much she had missed it.

"It's a nice old house, isn't it?" she said, looking around, and feeling like a stranger. It had been three months since she'd been in it.

"I guess we thought so when we bought it," he said cautiously, and they spent the weekend there. But the following weekend they both found they missed Malibu, so they went back to the house she had rented.

They were having a good time feeling young and unfettered. It was a perfect life, and Diana amazed him one night in mid-April when she said to him that she actually liked not having children.

"Do you mean that?" he asked. They had spent every night together for the past month, and he was happier than he'd ever been, and she looked relaxed and pleased, and like a whole new person.

"Yes . . . I think I do mean it," she said slowly. "We're so free. We can do whatever we want, go wherever we want, whenever we want to. We don't have to think about anyone but ourselves, and each other. I can get my hair done without worrying about rushing home to baby-sitters, we can eat dinner at ten o'clock, we can leave for the weekend at the drop of a hat. I don't know, maybe for a whole lifetime it would be pretty selfish, but for right now, I think I like it."