“Just a few months old, sweetheart.” They swung up the front steps and she unlocked the door with her key, and inside she sat down at the kitchen table, while Jane put the flowers in a vase for Bernie and looked at her mother with a happy smile.
“I'm so glad you married Daddy. Now I have a daddy again.”
“I'm glad too.” And he's a hell of a lot better than the other one.
Jane took the flowers into the other room, and Liz started cooking dinner for them. She still insisted on making dinner every night, baking bread, making everyone's favorite desserts. She wasn't sure what she'd feel like after the baby came, or how busy she would be, and it was easier to spoil them now. She made a point of it every day, and Bernie looked forward to coming home and eating the treats that she had made for them. He had gained ten pounds himself, and laughingly blamed it on the pregnancy.
He came home early that night, made a big fuss over them both, thanked Jane for the flowers, and only appeared as worried as he was when he and Liz were alone after Jane had gone to bed. He had refused to discuss the subject before, for fear the child would overhear what they said. And now he closed their bedroom door, and Jane's, and turned their television on, so she couldn't hear them talk, and then he turned to Liz with troubled eyes.
“Peabody, our attorney for the store, recommended a guy to me. His name is Grossman, and I talked to him this afternoon.” He also trusted him because he was from New York and had gone to Columbia Law School. “He says this thing's not good. The guy has rights.”
“He does?” Liz looked shocked as she sat uncomfortably at the foot of their bed. She felt out of breath again. She was really miserable. “After all these years? How is that possible?”
“Because the laws are very liberal in this state, that's why.” He was sorrier than ever that Berman hadn't moved him home to New York before this. “Apparently, if I'd adopted her by now it would be too late for him. But I didn't. That was my mistake. I didn't think we had to bother with the legalities, as long as she was using my name anyway.” And now he could have kicked himself, after what the attorney had said.
“But what about the fact that he abandoned her …abandoned us, for chrissake?”
“That might actually win the case for us, but the problem is, that isn't automatic. That depends on the judge, and it would have to become a 'case' and the judge would have to decide how he felt about the abandonment. If we win, great. And if we don't, we can appeal his decision. But in the interim, and even before this thing would get to court for the first round, which could take a while, they would give him temporary visitation, just to be 'fair' to him.”
“The man's a jailbird, for chrissake, a con man, a snake.” He had never seen Liz so worked up before. She looked as though she hated the man, and he knew she had good reason to. He was beginning to hate him himself. “They'd expose a child to him?”
“Apparently, yes. The assumption is that the natural father is a good guy until proven otherwise. So first they'd let him visit Jane, then we'd go to court to fight it out, and then we win or lose. But in the meantime, we'd have to explain to her who he is, why he's visiting her, and how we feel about it.” They both looked horrified, as horrified as he had felt when he spoke to the attorney that afternoon. He decided to tell her all of it. “And Grossman says that there's a good chance we wouldn't win. This state is extremely in favor of father's rights, and the judge could be sympathetic to him, no matter how big a sonofabitch we think he is. The theory seems to be that fathers have rights, no matter what, unless maybe they beat their kids or something like that. And even if they do that, apparently provisions are made to protect the child but still allow the abusive parent to see the child. Isn't that encouraging?” He was so angry he had gone at it full force, and suddenly as Liz started to cry, he realized how foolish he had been. She was in no condition to face the possibility of all that. “Oh baby, I'm sorry. … I never should have told you all that.”
“I have to know it if it's true,” she sobbed. “Isn't there anything we can do to get rid of him?”
“Yes and no. Grossman was honest with me. It's against the law to buy this guy off, but it's been done before. And he suspects that's all he wants. After seven years, it's not very likely that he's interested in teaching Jane to ride a bicycle. I think probably he just wants a few bucks to tide him over till he winds up in jail again. The only trouble is, if we do that, he may turn up again, and again, and again. It could be a bottomless pit.” But for the moment, he was tempted to try it at least once, and maybe that would get rid of him for good. He had thought about it on the way home, and was willing to give him ten thousand bucks to get out of their lives. He would have given him more than that, but he was afraid if he gave him too much, it would whet his appetite. He said as much to Liz and she agreed with him.
“Shall we give him a call?” She wanted to get it over with, and the contractions were driving her nuts tonight. She could feel her heart race as she handed Bernie the paper she'd written Chandler's number on.
“I want to talk to him myself. And I want you to stay out of it. For all you know, this is just a ploy to catch your attention again, and the less satisfaction he gets, the better off you'll be.” It made sense to her, and she was happy to let Bernie handle all of it.
The phone rang at the other end, and Bernard asked for Chandler Scott. They waited for what seemed a long time, and he held the receiver so Liz could listen too, as a male voice came on. He wanted to know if he had the right man, and she nodded at him and signaled that it was. Bernie took it from there.
“Mr. Scott? My name is Fine.”
“Oh?” And then he understood. “Right. You're married to Liz.”
“Correct. I understand you called this afternoon, about a business deal.” Grossman told him not to mention the child or what the money was for, in case Scott was recording him. “I have the results on that for you now.”
Scott was quick to understand. He liked a man who didn't mess around, although it had been fun talking to Liz again. “Do you think we should all meet to talk it out?” He was talking in the same veiled terms as Bernard, afraid of the police perhaps. God only knew what he was into now, Liz thought.
“I don't think that's necessary. My client has come up with a price for you. Ten thousand, for the whole package. One time only, for your previous services. I believe they want to buy you out.” The meaning of that was clear to all three of them, and there was a long silence at the other end.
“Do I have to sign anything?” He sounded cautious.
“That won't be necessary.” Bernie would have liked that but Grossman had already told him it wouldn't be worth the paper it was written on.
He came right to the point, and he sounded hungry to Bernie. “How do I get it?” In a brown paper bag at the bus station, Bernie almost laughed, except it wasn't funny. And he wanted to get rid of the sonofabitch as soon as he could, for all their sakes, especially Liz, who did not need the heartache right before the birth of their baby.
“I'll be happy to meet you with it.”
“In cash?”
“Of course.” Bastard. All he wanted was the money. He didn't give a damn about Jane. He never had, just as Liz had told Bernie.
“I'll be happy to give it to you tomorrow.”
“Where do you live?” At least their address was not listed in the phone directory, and Bernie was suddenly glad they had done that. And he was equally reluctant to meet him at his office. He wanted to meet him in a bar, or a restaurant, or a doorway. It was beginning to feel like a sleazy movie. But he was trying to think of where to tell him he would meet him.
“I'll meet you at Harry's, on Union Street, at lunchtime. Noon.” His bank was only half a block away, and he could give him the money and then come home to check on Liz.