Heartbeat (41 page)

She stared at him with open eyes, unable to believe what she was hearing. He was willing to forgive
her.
“That's very kind of you,” she said quietly, “and I appreciate it very much.” She almost choked on the words. “But Steven, you're not the only person who was hurt. And I'm sorry if you felt betrayed. But you abandoned me when I was pregnant. You completely shut me out. You took all our furniture, kicked me out of our home, divorced me, and gave up your rights to our baby. You wouldn't even speak to me when I called you.” It was quite a list, but he seemed unimpressed as he continued.

“Be that as it may.” He ignored everything she had just said. “I think for the child's sake, we should go back together.”

“Are you serious?” She stared at him almost in horror. This was not what she had planned, no matter how fair she wanted to be to him. And he was even more insensitive than he had been, and like everything else in his life, the baby was an ego trip for him, and now that he had seen it, that it was okay, and a son, he was suddenly willing to consider taking it on, after deserting them so completely. And this was the opportunity she had wanted to give him. But what she had expected, if anything, on his part, was genuine feeling for the baby. Not even anything for her, or if he did feel something, she would have expected some kind of tenderness and kindness. Some remorse, or regret, some vestige of decency and caring. But that was Bill she was thinking of, she suddenly realized. This man had none of that inside him.

“I don't think you understand,” she went on. “Steven, you gave everything up because you didn't give a damn about either of us. You deserted us. And the only reason why I called was on the off chance that you'd regret it. I wanted you to have a chance to see the baby. But you don't care about anyone. You have no feelings whatsoever about what you've done. The only one you care about is yourself, and you have the nerve to imagine yourself 'betrayed.' I'm not even convinced you care about the baby or ever could care. You're so wrapped up in yourself that you don't give a damn about me, or him. And I think you're impressed that you have a 'son but that's it. Who is he to you? What does he mean? What are
you
prepared to give
him?”
It was an important question, and Steven looked more than ever annoyed to be questioned.

“Shelter, food, an education, toys …” He couldn't think of anything else and she shook her head. He hadn't made the grade. He never would. And now she knew that. It was what she had had to see, and now she was glad that she'd called him.

“You forgot something very important.”

Steven thought about it, but nothing came to mind. And he looked handsome, but he also looked empty.

“You forgot love. That means more than shelter, food, education, or anything. It means more than computers, tennis rackets, furniture, stereos, apartments, jobs. Love. It was the one thing I think you forgot entirely in our marriage. If you had loved me, you wouldn't have walked out on me and the baby.”

“I loved you …but
you
didn't love me. You broke a solemn promise to me never to have children.” And he meant it.

“I couldn't help it.” She had no regrets. “And I'm not sorry now.”

“You should be,” he said sorrowfully, “for the grief you caused me.”

“The grief I caused
you?”
Adrian stared at him amazed, as he got up and walked around the room, glancing at the huge bear Bill had left just inside the doorway.

“The truth is, you betrayed me,” he said again, “and if I'm willing to forgive you now, for the child's sake, you ought to be very grateful.” She couldn't believe her ears as she stared at him.

“Well, I'm not.” She looked at him and said bluntly. And then she asked him the most fearful question. “Steven, do you love the baby? I mean really
love
him? Do you want him more than anything …want to spend your life making his life better?”

He looked at her mutely for a long time. “I'm sure that I could learn to in time.” But she saw as she looked at him that something inside him had died long since and she had never known it.

“And if you feel threatened by us again, then what? You walk out? Or you sell the apartment? Or you just file for termination?” He had been cruel to her, and indirectly to his own child, and they both knew it, no matter what he said now about “betrayal.”

“I can't make you promises for the future. I can just say I'll try. But I think you owe it to me to come back and give
it
a try.” She
owed
it to him. How endearing. How tender.

“On what basis? Are you asking me to marry you again?” She wanted to clarify everything once and for all now. This was the confrontation she had longed for.

“No, I … I think we should try it. I think you should come back and try it for six months, for a year, while I see if …”

“If you like being a parent, is that it? And if you don't?”

“Then there's no harm done. The papers are already in place, we shake hands and wish each other well.” It sounded like a business agreement.

“And Sam?” He was already real to her, a special, precious person.

“In that case, he's yours.”

“How nice. And how do I explain it to him later on? You tried it out and didn't like him? No, you don't get to rent fatherhood, Steven, to try it on. You either do it or you don't, like marriage, like love, like real life. This is not one of your tennis games, where you get to sample different partners and pick the ones who play the worst, so you can massage your ego.” He looked furious at what she had just said, but it was all true, and he knew it.

“Then just exactly why did you call me? Wasn't that what you wanted from me? Or are you trying to find the best offer?” The new diamond ring on her finger hadn't gone unnoticed, nor had Bill with his many offerings abandoned in the doorway.

“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.

A
DRIAN WAITED ALL DAY FOR
B
ILL 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.