What You Wish For (17 page)

I said, “How about after impressing everyone with her diction at the ball, Cora decides to swim the English Channel to prove herself, and when she gets out in Dover, Jonas beats his romantic rival Mr. Darcy in a fistfight, they rob a bank together, and canter off into the sunset on a pair of camels toward Gretna Green.”

He laughed. “If I’m ignoring you, it’s your fault for stimulating my brain.”

“How’s the cookie?”

“Like velour sweatpants in my mouth.” His phone rang. “Excuse me,” he apologized.

“Uh-huh . . . Uh-huh . . . Already?” He looked at his watch. “Is she there? . . . I need to . . . yes. Tell her an hour. Okay . . . Right . . . No, that’s more important . . . Would you set it up? . . . I’ll be there.”

He hung up. “I hate to say it, but I’ve got to go. I’ve got some things to do before a production meeting at five.”

I felt like a jealous girlfriend, wondering about the call. “Let’s get you back, then.”

“He reminded her that the speed limit was sixty, but she couldn’t understand—he was talking a mile a minute.”

I gave him a come-hither smile. “Don’t you trust me?” I tried not to layer it with meaning.

“How about you let me try my hand at the wheel?” he asked as we walked to the bike.

The thought of clinging to his hips terrified me, and not because I might fall off the bike. When I wrapped my legs around something, I liked to be in control.

“Larry would kill me,” I hedged. “Hop on.”

His expression suggested he knew my thoughts but he let it pass. “Okey doke. I’m a firm believer in recycling.”

Maryn Takes a Call

M
aryn Windsor.” Maryn grabbed her phone before the second ring. Work was failing to distract her from her irritation, but she remained hopeful. She’d stacked a pile of invoices on top of Andy’s countersuit. Selena Hernandez was on the case, and Maryn would proceed with her life. Thinking about her imperiled eggs made her nauseous.

“Maryn, Webb Garner here.”

Maryn sought name recognition and found none. Was he a client? A referral?

“Hello.” She waited.

“How are you today?” The voice was jovial.

Impatient, thought Maryn. “Fine,” said Maryn.

“I bet you’d be a sight better if that ex-husband of yours wasn’t so ungodly.”

Maryn’s breath disappeared.

“I’m sorry?” she managed. Who
was
this guy?

“Maryn, I’m here to help.”

Maryn was too freaked out to chuckle at the cliché. Was “
Trust me, I’m a lawyer
” next?

“It’s reprehensible what Andrew Knox is doing. Your eggs are living human embryos and destroying them is nothing short of murder.”

“Oh,” was all Maryn could manage.

“We cannot let his depravity go unchecked, nor can we tolerate him in a leadership position in this community. We need to speak for your eggs’ right to life and against Andrew Knox.”

“Mr. Garner, why are you calling me?”

“I’m the President of the Santa Monica/Malibu Unified School Board and a candidate in opposition to Mr. Knox for City Council. I believe in the sanctity of human life, and want to protect frozen embryos such as yours so they can realize their ultimate purpose.”

The rabbit-hole feeling Maryn had experienced days earlier when she’d seen Andy—sorry,
Andrew—
on the news announcing his campaign for City Council returned. She’d been stupefied.
Andy
was running for office? She was embroiled in the fight of her life, and he had bandwidth available to give speeches and spout off about affordable housing for the needy?
Maryn
was the needy one. Maryn knew without a doubt it was Summer’s doing, but she’d been furious with Andy nonetheless. She was even more pissed now with this jackass on the phone invading her personal life.

“How exactly did you come by this private knowledge?” She’d only just filed.

“Court documents are public record. I was researching my opponent, and discovered the wrong he seeks to do. I intend to expose him, and right that wrong.”

“I appreciate your concern; however, my issue is one for the courts.”

“It pains me to think of you struggling alone to protect your motherly rights in a soulless legal system. We need to humanize your story—and expose Andrew Knox. I can offer public support, and strong relationships with local judges. In return, I’d be thrilled to have you stand beside me on my campaign. Together we can defeat Andrew Knox.”

“I appreciate your offer”—Maryn chose her words care-fully—“but I must decline. This is a private matter.”

“Protecting unborn children is a matter for all Christians.” Maryn thought she detected the sound of shuffling paper. “It says in Proverbs 31:8-9, ‘Speak up for those who have no voice, for the justice of all who are dispossessed. Speak up, judge righteously, and defend the cause of the oppressed and needy.’ ”

“I assure you, I’m not needy.”

“Andrew Knox is threatening to kill innocent babies. They need our protection.”

“They’re hardly babies.” Maryn was running out of patience. She didn’t like being manipulated. “They’re cryogenically frozen embryos.”

“God said, ‘Before I formed you in the womb, I knew
you
.’ Jeremiah 1:5.” She definitely heard paper. Was he reading from notes? “A pre-embryo is a human being from that unique moment of conception when sperm and egg come together to create life.”

“There’s the ‘unique’ moment when the egg implants in the uterus. Or the ‘unique’ moment when the child is born. Or the unique moment I decided that hot fries at three
AM
was a good idea,” Maryn countered. “Just because something only happens once doesn’t make it the cradle of life.”

“Surely you agree that those eggs are your children?”

For a moment, Maryn saw the seven nuggets, their golden glow flickering, as if the shadow of Andy the Destroyer passed over them, and her rage bubbled. She took deep breaths. Her Spidey sense told her the man on the phone was worse.

“What I think doesn’t matter, except to me.”

“There’s right and there’s wrong. Right is protecting unborn children.”

“Science doesn’t support your position. An embryo isn’t viable without a woman’s body to sustain it. There’s no guarantee any of them would result in a child.”

“How could you not see them as children?” He was trying to read her.

“Do I get a tax break?”

“What?”

“If pre-embryos are children, I should get a tax advantage for all seven of them. If they’re nonviable, will a death certificate be issued? If I miscarry, do I face manslaughter charges?” Maryn was going too far, but this guy pushed her buttons.

“Of course not,” Webb blustered.

“I’m a high risk for miscarriage,” Maryn kept on. “I don’t want to be liable for negligently placing the eggs in danger. I’d be a serial killer! My doctor would be arrested for reckless endangerment.”

“You’re confusing the issue . . . ,” Webb stumbled.

Maryn’s voice hardened. “Eggs are not humans. They don’t get constitutional rights because they can’t use them.”

If Maryn thought of the embryos as children, she’d go insane. She was already a mess thinking of them as vulnerable cells. She’d cuddle them every day if she could. She had to resist naming them, like chicks on a farm, in case they ended up chicken dinner.

“Unborn babies are the most vulnerable elements of our society. Their lives depend on our voice. It’s God’s wish.”

“Not my voice.” Maryn wasn’t buying Garner’s Christian motives. “I’m on the other side. You can’t decide the constitutional status of an embryo, or anyone, based on faith. Where reasonable minds differ, laws must be objective.”

“I see.” Webb Garner sounded nonplussed. He’d been expecting a different reaction. Maryn didn’t ease his discomfort, and the silence stretched.

He tried a different tack. “If you don’t agree with me on the whys, you disagree with Andrew Knox. You’re suing him.”

“The issue between Andy and I is a private matter that has nothing to do with the theological question of when life begins.”

“I see that I’ve misjudged you, Ms. Windsor.” A hardness had crept into his voice. “I won’t waste any more of your time.” He hung up.

Maryn was startled by the speed of his disconnection. Her adrenaline tsunami receded, and she was left shaky and uncertain. She dialed Selena Hernandez.

“Maryn, how are you?” her attorney answered promptly.

“Troubled.” Maryn described her call from Webb Garner.

“Your concern is legitimate,” Selena said. Maryn appreciated that her lawyer skipped outrage and got right to the matter.

“I never thought this was about pro-life or pro-choice.” Maryn was anxious. “I thought this was a marital property dispute.” Maryn had rushed Selena when they’d filed the Complaint, dismissing explanations for later. She should have listened.

“Without taking a position on its correctness, frozen embryo case law is a straightforward application of Supreme Court abortion decisions,” Selena said. “The thrust of
Roe v. Wade
is that the mother’s right to privacy and control over her body overcomes any contrary right possessed by a nonviable fetus. Frozen embryo cases hold that the objecting donor’s—in this case, Andy’s—right
not
to procreate is an equal privacy right. Given the outcome, the right not to procreate outweighs the contrary right of the other parent.”

“So Andy’s right to destroy the eggs is stronger than my right to use them?” Maryn’s chest fluttered as the tarry oobleck approached her golden nuggets.

“There are factual considerations in every case, but it basically comes down to two issues. First, the rights of the parent versus the rights of the embryo. Second, the rights of one donor parent versus the other donor parent. As long as the Supreme Court upholds
Roe v. Wade,
state courts will find that the parent’s right to choose defeats the embryo’s right to exist. That means Andy could terminate the embryos, just like you could terminate an undesired pregnancy.”

“You’re saying that to win my case, I’d be undermining
Roe v. Wade
?” Maryn was upset.

“Nothing’s so simple. When there’s a dispute between the competing privacy interests of donors, and no written agreement exists, courts will weigh the interests of the parties.”

“Divorce agreements didn’t make the to-do list back then.” Bitterness wormed into Maryn’s voice. She didn’t dwell on Andy’s hospital-bed departure from their marriage. They’d barely spoken through the bloodless divorce. Andy had given Maryn everything, like the proverbial $20 taxi fare on the bed stand, in order to exit as quickly and cleanly as possible. Preoccupied with her illness, rights to use the embryos never occurred to her. To be honest, even after he walked out, Maryn wouldn’t have thought Andy capable of such harm.

“So what happens without any agreement?”

“The court sees the ‘right of procreational autonomy’ as composed of two equal parts—the right to procreate and the right to avoid procreation. They’ll consider the positions of the parties, the significance of their interests, and the relative burdens. I must be honest, the court defers to the right against the ‘burden of unwanted parenthood.’ ”

“Meaning Andy.”

“Don’t rule yourself out. Every right has limits when it abuts another’s rights. Without being crass, the fact that you’re a cancer survivor, and infertile, makes you a sympathetic plaintiff. Plus you don’t want his money.”

“I feel like my private life is about to become a circus. Damn this stupid election!”

Selena was silent for several beats. “I’m concerned about this politician’s call,” she admitted. “Your case is one of first impression in this district, and with Andy running for office, rife with political fodder. If conservative groups jumped on it, they could make a public campaign of your personal matter. It would distort the facts and make a real mess, never mind the unwanted attention to you.”

“Isn’t the Republic of Santa Monica the most liberal enclave in the country?” Maryn asked.

Selena laughed. “Maybe next to Oberlin College.” She named her alma mater. “Santa Monica has a small but fervent right to life community. They are educated and articulate, and would be delighted to discover a vehicle for their cause. My concern is that if they seize on this issue, they can garner significant funds from more powerful out-of-state groups with the same agenda. The Mormon Church of Utah supplied much of the funding to support California’s Proposition 8’s ban on gay marriage.”

“Surely it won’t come to that,” Maryn dismissed. “That was media madness. I’m nowhere near that important.”

“Don’t underestimate the emotions this case could stir up.” Selena’s tone was troubled. “On the legal case, we’ll wait for the court. On this Webb Garner thing, I’m going to make a few calls.”

Maryn thanked Selena for her time and hung up. The office was silent and closed but she didn’t move. She stared at the phone. She stared at the framed picture of her horse Jethro. It seemed surreal to her that she was in the exact same spot, everything completely unchanged, as when she got the call from Webb Garner, yet her whole world felt tipped on its axis.