“I don't need your best offer anymore. But I wanted to be sure I gave you a last shot at your son, before you gave him away forever. I thought you deserved that. I thought there was always the off chance that you would regret it bitterly one day, and that you might fall in love with him when he was born. But you didn't. All you want is to try him out like a car on a rental plan, and you want me back to maintain him, because you're 'willing' to forgive me for my 'betrayal,' as you call it. But the betrayal is not mine, but yours, and the baby is mine now.” He looked nonplussed, and not overly distressed at what she had just said. She wondered if he might even be relieved. But whatever he was, he hadn't changed. She knew that for sure now.
“You can tell him I offered to take you back and you refused, since you're so concerned with what you're going to tell him later.”
“On a trial basis, Steven. That's nothing.” Suddenly, she realized that she was shouting, but she didn't care. It felt good to finally be shouting at him. “I want to love him unconditionally, through thick and thin, handsome or ugly, good moods or bad, in sickness and health, with every ounce of love I have to give him. That's what I want to give our baby.” There were tears in her eyes, and as she said the words, she realized that it was exactly what she wanted to give Bill, everything she had to give, forever.
“There is no such thing as unconditional love, except among fools,” he said cynically.
“That's what I am then.” It was what she had offered him once upon a time, and what he had walked out on.
“Good luck then.” He stood looking at her for a long moment, and any feeling they had once had seemed to have dissipated between them. And then, a little more gently, “I'm sorry things didn't work out, Adrian.” But he didn't really seem sorry to be giving up his baby. For a brief moment, he had been intrigued with him, fascinated, but the moment was already over. The moment the nurse had taken the baby from the room, Steven seemed to forget him.
“I'm sorry too.” She looked up at him, wondering who he really had been all the time she thought she knew him. “I'm sorry for you,” she said quietly.
“Don't be.” She felt free finally, looking at him, and she was doubly glad she had called him. He was honest with her, there was nothing for him to lose now. “I wasn't ready for this, Adrian. I suppose I never would be.” They were the most honest words he had ever said to her, no matter how intriguing the beauty of their newborn baby. But he just wasn't Bill, and she realized clearly now that she no longer loved Steven. She hadn't in months, not since Bill … or maybe ever since the baby, but she hadn't known it.
“I know.” She nodded slowly at him, and then laid her head back against the pillows, it had been a long morning. “Thank you for coming.” He touched her hand with his own, and then turned and walked out of the room without saying a word, and this time she knew that he was gone for good, and she was sorry, but she knew that she would never miss him. She lay in bed, thinking about Bill then, and desperately worried about what he'd thought when he saw her with Steven. All she wanted was for him to come back again, and she would be able to explain it.
But as she thought of Bill, Steven walked down the hall with a long, solemn stride, and he stopped for a moment at the nursery, and saw their baby. A blue bundle in an acrylic bassinet, propped up so the nurses could see him better, and the little blue card on the basket read “Thompson, baby boy, 8 lbs. 14 oz. 5:15 a.m.” He bore her maiden name as Steven had requested through the courts. And as he looked at him, Steven waited to feel something he never had before, but he just didn't. He was beautiful, and he was so unbelievably small and vulnerable. He made you want to reach out and touch him. And he would never forget what it had been like to hold him, but he had been relieved when Adrian took him back, as he was now, knowing that the baby was Adrian's, not his. It was nice to know that he was someone else's. Steven had thought about trying it for a while, maybe just to get her back, but in the end, it was a relief now knowing that he didn't have to. And even he had realized that their relationship was over. She wanted too many things that he didn't. She wanted too much from him. “Your boy?” An old man with a cigar and a bald head asked with a broad smile, as Steven looked at him curiously and shook his head. No. Not his boy. Someone else's. And then he left, with his smooth stride, feeling at peace again. For Steven, the agony was over.
ADRIAN WAITED ALL DAY FOR BILL TO COME BACK, but he never came, and she called the apartment endlessly, but he never answered. By four o'clock she was desperate to find him. She was in agony over what he must have thought, and she wanted to explain, and tell him the outcome of Steven's visit. But she just couldn't find him. She was worried about his surprise party, too, remembering that everyone was counting on her to get him to his office where the entire cast and crew were going to surprise him. She called the office directly finally, figuring that the others had to be there by then, and finally at six o'clock, someone answered the phone and she could hear all the noise in the background. She tried to shout loud enough so they could hear her above the din, and finally, the assistant director realized who was calling.
“Adrian? Oh, congratulations on the baby!” Bill had told everyone about Sam, but those who knew him well thought he was strangely quiet. And they just figured he was tired after a long night with Adrian in labor. As it turned out, he had happened on the party completely by accident. After he left Adrian, he'd gone home, and then, needing to clear his mind, he had gone to the office. And he had arrived only slightly later than he should. It was as though, with or without her, he had been destined to get there.
“Is Bill there?” Finally, she had found him.
“He just left. He said there were some things he had to do. But it's a hell of a party.” The A.D. sounded more than a little drunk, and they were having such a good time, they hardly missed their guest of honor. He had slipped away, touched by what they'd done, but anxious to be alone. It had already been quite a birthday.
Adrian tried to call him at home again, but he had the machine on. She couldn't believe that he had just slipped through her fingers like that, or that he wasn't going to give her a chance to explain what had happened. He had always known that she wanted to contact Steven after the baby was born, but he hadn't expected to see him sitting next to Adrian, in her hospital room, holding the baby, and he had immediately made a brutally painful assumption. And as Adrian continued to lie in her hospital bed, waiting for him, she began to fear the worst when he never came back to see her. He must have been so angry at her that he didn't want to see her again, and there was nothing more she could do to find him. She couldn't leave her room, or the hospital, and she felt trapped and helpless.
She held the baby for most of the afternoon, and put him in his little bassinet next to her for the entire evening. When her dinner tray came, she sent it away, and she put the big blue bear in a chair, and sat looking sadly at his roses. And all she wanted was to see him and tell him how much she loved him.
“Would you like a sleeping pill?” the nurse asked at eight o'clock, but she only shook her head, and the nurse made a note on the chart about possible postpartum depression. They had noted the fact that she had eaten nothing for dinner or lunch, and she even seemed unexcited about nursing her baby. She was quiet and uncommunicative, and as soon as the nurse left the room, she dialed the apartment again, and the answering machine was still on, and she left an anguished message for him to call her.
She picked up the baby again, and held him close to her for a long time, looking at the tiny nose, the sleeping eyes, the perfect mouth, the tiny, gently curled fingers. He was so sweet and so tiny and so perfect, and she was so engrossed in watching him that she didn't hear the door whoosh open at nine o'clock, and he stood there for a long minute, watching her, willing himself not to feel anything for her or the baby, as she turned her head suddenly and saw him. Her breath caught, and without thinking, she reached out a hand, and then started to get out of bed, which wasn't entirely easy.