On the twenty-first of December, her divorce had become final. She was no longer married to Steven, and although he could not remove it from her, he had stated a preference that she no longer use his surname. And the papers terminating his parental rights to their unborn child were included. Legally; the baby was no longer his. It was Adrian's, period. The baby had no legal father. And his name would not be on the birth certificate, as the lawyer had explained to her the previous summer. She sat staring at the papers for a long time, and tears slowly filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. It was silly to get so upset at this late date, she told herself. It was no surprise. She had expected it. And yet it hurt anyway. It was the ultimate, final rejection. A marriage that had begun with hope and love had ended with total rejection. He had rejected everything about her, even her baby.
She quietly put the papers away in her drawer in Bill's desk. He had graciously shared everything he had, his heart, his space, his apartment, his life, his bed, and he was even willing to take on her baby. It was amazing how different the two men were, how opposite in every way, and yet she was still sad about Steven, and she still wished that he could have brought himself to care about the baby.
Bill came home while she was getting dressed, and as usual he sensed that something had happened. He thought she was scared about the baby again, and lately she had been on a rampage of anxiety, worrying if the baby would be normal. They had told her in the Lamaze class that all of these concerns were normal, that there was no need to feel it was a premonition of something truly awful.
“Are you having contractions again?” he asked, sensing she was upset about something.
“No, I'm okay.” And then she decided not to beat around the bush. She never did with him. He knew her too well anyway. “My divorce papers came today. And the termination of parental rights. It's all official.”
“I could say congratulations, but I won't.” He looked at her carefully. “I know what that feels like. Even when you expect it, it's kind of a shock.” He put gentle arms around her and kissed her and tears filled her eyes again. “I'm sorry, baby. That's not nice for you at a time like this. But one day, it'll just be a memory and it will no longer matter.”
“I hope so. I felt so lousy when I got them. I don't know …it was like flunking out of school, like really knowing you'd blown it.”
“You didn't blow it. He did,” he reminded her, but she sat down on the bed and sniffed.
“I still feel like I did something wrong … I mean … for him not to want the baby, I must have really handled it badly.”
“From what you've told me, I don't think it could ever have been any different. If there was any humanity to the man, he'd have come around by now,” and he didn't need to remind her that Steven hadn't. He hadn't even been willing to acknowledge her when they met in the restaurant in October. What kind of man would do that? A real son of a bitch, and a selfish one, was Bill's unspoken answer. “You just have to put it behind you.” She nodded, and she knew he was right, but it was hard anyway. And she was quiet that night at his office Christmas party. Everyone was in high spirits and more than a little drunk, and suddenly she felt fat and uncomfortable and depressed and ugly. She had a lousy time, and Bill left early to take her home. He could see that she wasn't having fun, and the others wouldn't really miss him. They'd understand. And even if they didn't, Adrian was his first concern. She was having contractions again when they went to bed, and for once she didn't feel the least bit interested in making love to him.
“Now I know you're really depressed,” he teased her. “It might even be terminal. Should I call the doctor?” He was playing at being concerned and he made her laugh, but she still looked sad as they lay in his bed. The baby's basket, covered in white lace, was already standing in the corner at the ready. Her due date was only two and a half weeks away, and she was still very nervous about it. So far, the Lamaze class hadn't reassured her, even though the information was abundant and useful. But the realities of childbirth still terrified her. But she wasn't even thinking about that tonight, she was just thinking about Steven and their divorce, and the fact that the baby had no father.
“I have an idea,” he smiled. “It's a little unusual, but not totally inappropriate. Let's get married on Christmas. That gives us three days to get the blood test and the license. I think that's what it takes. That and about ten dollars. I might even be able to scrape up the money.” He was looking at her tenderly, and although he was joking, he was serious about the proposal.
“That's not right,” she said sadly.
“What, about the ten dollars?” He was still trying to keep it light. “Okay, if it's more, I'll scrape it up somehow.”
“No, I'm serious, Bill. It's not right for you to marry me out of pity. You deserve more than that, and so do Adam and Tommy.”
“Oh, for God's sake.” He lay back in their bed and groaned. “Do me a favor, don't rescue me from myself. I'm a big boy and I know what I'm doing, and I happen to love you.”
“I love you too,” she said mournfully. “But it's not fair.”
“To whom?”
“You, or Steven, or the baby.”
“Would you mind explaining to me by what deviated, neurotic route you came to that conclusion?” Sometimes she exasperated him, especially lately. She worried about so many things, and she felt so obligated to be fair to everyone …him …and the baby …and even rotten Steven.
“I'm not going to let you marry me under duress, feeling that you owe me something, or have an obligation to help me out, or that the baby ought to have a father. When you get married, it should be because you want to, not because you have to, or think you owe it to someone.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you're nuts? Sexy …beautiful …great legs …but definitely nuts. I am not asking you to marry me because I feel an obligation. I happen to be madly in love with you, and have been for six months, or hadn't you noticed? Remember me, I'm the guy you've been living with since last summer, the guy whose kid you saved, and whose kids, plural, think you walk on water.”
She looked pleased by what he said, but she still shook her head. “It's still not right.”
“Why not?”
“It's not fair to the baby.”
He looked at her almost harshly then. He had heard this argument before and he didn't like it. “Or are you really saying it's not fair to Steven?”
She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. She felt an obligation to save him from himself too. “He doesn't know what he's giving up. He has to have a chance to understand that decision, to think it out clearly, after the baby's born, before I move on and shut him out forever.”
“The law doesn't seem to agree with you. They approved those papers, Adrian. He no longer has any claim to that baby.”
“Legally, you're right. But morally? Can you really say that?”
“Christ, I don't know what I can say anymore.” He got out of bed and paced the room, glancing at her, and almost tripping over the little white basket. “I know one thing. I've stuck my neck way out for you …and my heart …and my guts …and whatever else you want. And I've done it because I love you, and the baby. I don't need to wait to see it, or check it out, to decide if it's cute or not, or take my emotional temperature the day it's born. It is and you are and I am, and we are exactly what I've always wanted. I'm telling you that I want to marry you, for better or worse, in sickness or in health, forever. That's all I want, just the two of you. And for the last seven years I've been too damn scared to offer that to anyone. I've been too scared even to let myself think it. Because, as I told you before, I never wanted to care that much again, or have a woman walk out on me and take my children. This baby isn't mine, it's his, as you keep pointing out to me, but I love it as though it were mine, and I don't want to lose it. I don't want to play games with you. I don't want to sit here waiting until he comes back, and takes back everything I've come to love. I don't think he will anyway, and I've told you that before too. But I'm also not going to sit here with my door open forever, waiting for him to come to his senses, or get bored with the bimbos in his life, and come back to you and the baby. As far as I'm concerned, Adrian, he can't have you. But if he does want you, and you want him, you'd both better make up your minds quick. I want to get on with our life, I want to marry you, I want to adopt that baby you've been carrying around in you for nine months while I feel it kicking. I'm not going to sit here with my heart and my guts wide-open forever. So if you want to talk about fair, let's talk about it. What's fair? How long is fair? Just how long am I expected to be 'fair' to Steven?”