He patted Adam on the shoulder and gave him a hug, and then he kissed Maggie on both cheeks. She apologized for getting seasick. They thanked him, and he waved as they got off.

Carole turned to watch him from the tender as it sped away. She had the terrible feeling, as he waved at them from the deck, that she'd never see him again. She put on her dark glasses as they pulled into the port so no one would see her cry.





25


LIFE MOVED INTO HIGH GEAR FOR ADAM AND MAGGIE when they got back. He had three new clients, his kids said they wanted to see him more often, especially now that they knew Maggie, and his father had a heart attack. Life. He was out of the hospital in a week, and his mother was on the phone to him ten times a day. Why wasn't he coming to see them more often? Didn't he care about his father? What was wrong with him? His brother was there every day. Adam pointed out in a tone of exasperation that his brother lived four blocks away.

Maggie was just as crazed. She was studying for finals, had two papers to write for her classes, and was working her ass off at Pier 92. Adam told her she needed to get a better job. But the tips were great. And for the first two weeks they were back, she had the flu.

She still had it and couldn't shake it, when she went back to work anyway. She couldn't lose any more days, or they'd fire her. She was still at work one afternoon, when Adam came home from the office, and found a note that the cleaning woman had quit. The apartment was a mess. He knew how tired Maggie was, so he decided to take out the garbage and do the dishes before she got back. He emptied the wastebasket in her bathroom into a big plastic bag, and just as he was about to tie a knot in it, something caught his eye. It was a bright blue stick. He had seen them before, but not in a while. A long while. He stopped what he was doing, gingerly fished it out, and stared at it in disbelief. He sat down on the toilet and stared at it, before throwing it back in and then tied the knot, but when he did, his face was grim. He looked like a tornado when Maggie got home. She went straight to bed, saying she felt like shit.

“I'll bet you do,” he said under his breath. He had cleaned the entire apartment, and was vacuuming when she got home.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he whizzed through the room.

“The maid quit.”

“You don't have to do that. I'll do it.”

“Really? When?” He was furious with her.

“Later. I just got home from work. For chrissake, Adam, why are you running around like a rocket ship with a burr up its ass?”

“I'm cleaning the house!” he said through clenched teeth.

“Why?” And then suddenly he turned to her with fury on his face.

“Because if I don't, I may kill someone, and I don't want it to be you.”

“What are you so pissed off at?” She had had a terrible day at work and she felt sick.

“I'm pissed at you. That's what I'm pissed at.”

“What the hell did I do? I didn't tell the maid to quit.”

“When were you going to tell me you were pregnant? Why were you saving that little piece of news? For chrissake, Maggie, I found your pregnancy test in the garbage, and it was positive, for God's sake!” He was out of his mind with rage. “When did that happen?”

“On Yom Kippur, I think,” she said softly. They had been careful ever since. It was the only time they hadn't been. Since then, without knowing it, they had been locking the barn door after the horse escaped, or got in, or something like that.

“Oh, great,” he said, tossing the vacuum down at his feet. “On Yom Kippur. My mother was right. I should have gone to synagogue, and I never should have called you.” He threw himself into a chair as she started to cry.

“That's mean.”

“It's meaner for you to be pregnant and not tell me. When were you going to tell me, for God's sake?”

“I just found out this morning. I didn't want you to get mad. I was going to tell you tonight.”

And then suddenly he looked at her and realized what she had said. “Yom Kippur? Are you kidding? Yom Kippur was in September. This is January, for chrissake. Do you mean Chanukah?” She wasn't Jewish, she obviously had her holidays mixed up.

“No, Yom Kippur. It had to be that first weekend when I came over. It was the only time we weren't careful.”

“Wonderful. Did you notice that you didn't get your period for the last three months?”

“I thought I was nervous. I've always missed it a lot. Once I didn't get it for six months.”

“Were you pregnant?”

“No. I've never been pregnant till now.” She looked devastated.

“Terrific. A first. We just don't need this headache, Maggie. And when you get an abortion, you'll be crying and whacked-out for the next six months.” He had been through it all before, too many times. He didn't want to go through it with her, or with anyone ever again. And then he looked at her darkly, with suspicion on his face. “Are you trying to trap me into marrying you? Because that's not going to work.”

She jumped off their bed then, and stood glaring at him. “I'm not trying to trap you! I never asked you to marry me, and I won't now. I got pregnant. This is your fault too, not just mine.”

“How the hell could you not know you were pregnant for three months?” It was unbelievable. “You can't even get an abortion at this point. Not easily anyway, it's a big deal after three months.”

“Well, then I'll deal with it. And I wasn't trying to marry you!”

“Good! Because I won't!” he shouted at her, and with that she stormed into the bathroom, and slammed the door in his face.

She was in there for two hours, and when she came out, he was in bed, watching TV, and didn't say a word to her. Neither of them had had dinner. She had thrown up when she was in the bathroom, crying on her own.

“Is that why you got sick on the boat?” he asked without looking at her.

“Maybe. I kind of wondered, and when I got sick when we got back, I thought maybe it was. That's why I did the test.”

“At least you didn't wait another six months. I want you to see a doctor,” he said, finally looking at her. She looked a mess. He could see that she'd been crying, her eyes were red, and her face was pale. “Do you have a doctor?”

“I got a name from a girl at work,” she sniffed.

“I don't want you seeing some quack. I'll get a name tomorrow.”

“And then what?” she asked, sounding scared.

“We'll see what he says.”

“What if it's too late for an abortion?”

“Then we'll talk about it. I may have to kill you in that case.” He was only kidding, he had calmed down a little, but she burst into tears again. “Come on, Maggie…please… I'm not going to kill you. But I'm upset.”

“So am I,” she said, sobbing. “It's my baby too.” He groaned then, and flopped down on the bed.

“This is not a baby, Maggie. Please. It's a pregnancy, that's all it is right now.” He didn't even want to say the word “fetus,” let alone “baby.”

“What do you think that leads to?” she said, blowing her nose in a tissue.

“I know what it leads to. That's what I'm upset about. Just get some sleep. We'll talk about it in the morning,” he said, as he clicked off the TV and turned off the light on his side of the bed. It was early, but he wanted to sleep. He needed the escape. This was the last thing he needed. This happened to his clients, not to him.

“Adam?” She spoke softly just as he closed his eyes.

“What?”

“Do you hate me?”

“Of course not. I love you. I'm just upset. This was not a good idea.”

“What wasn't?”

“Getting pregnant.”

“I know. I'm sorry. Do you want me to leave?” He looked at her then, and felt sorry for her. This was going to be hard on her too, especially after three months. He knew there were doctors who did it, but it was a much bigger deal than if you caught it right away.

“No, I don't want you to leave. I just want to deal with this, as soon as we can.” She nodded her head.

“Do you really think I'll be a mess for six months?” She sounded worried. This was scary for her too. More than for him. He hated the inconvenience, she had to deal with it, either way. It was traumatic for her.

“I hope not,” he answered her question. “Just go to sleep.”

She tossed and turned all night, and when he woke up in the morning, she was in the bathroom and he could hear her getting sick. He stood outside the bathroom door, wincing. It sounded rough.

“Shit,” he said out loud and went to shower and shave. She came out ten minutes later. He had kept his bathroom door open so he could see her when she did. She looked green. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I'm great.”

He made her tea and toast when he was dressed, told her he'd call her from the office, and kissed her before he left. And then he thought of something terrifying on the way to work. She was Catholic. What if she refused to have an abortion? Now that really would be a mess. What would he tell his kids? Or his parents? It didn't bear thinking. He made the necessary calls as soon as he got to the office, and called her at work at noon. He gave her the names of two doctors, in case one was too busy to see her, and told her to try and see one of them as soon as she could. She called both that day, used his name as he had told her to do, and got an appointment for the following afternoon. Adam offered to go with her, but she said she could handle it alone. At least she was being decent about it. But they hardly talked to each other that night. They were both too stressed.

The following night, after her appointment, she was in the apartment when he got home. It was her day off, and she was doing homework when he walked in.

“How did it go?”

“It went fine.” She didn't look up at him.

“How fine? What did he say?”

“He said it's a little late, but they can say that my mental health is at stake if I threaten suicide or something like that.”

“When are you doing it, then?” He sounded relieved, and there was a long pause as she looked up at him with huge eyes in a pale face. She didn't look well.

“I'm not.” It took a long moment for it register, and he stared at her.

“Say that again.”

“I'm not having an abortion,” she said carefully, and he could see from the look on her face that she meant it.

“What are you going to do about it? Give it away?” That was a lot more complicated and took a lot more explaining, but he was willing to do that too, if she preferred. She was Catholic after all.

“I'm having the baby. And I'm keeping it. I love you. I love your baby. I saw it on a sonogram. It's moving. It was sucking its thumb. I'm three and a half months pregnant. Sixteen weeks, the way they figure it, and I'm not giving it away.”

“Oh my God,” he said, letting himself fall into the nearest chair. “This is insane. You're keeping it? I'm not going to marry you. You know that, don't you? If that's what you think is going to happen, you're crazy. I'm never getting married again, to you or anyone else, with or without a baby.”

“I wouldn't marry you anyway,” she said, sitting up very straight in her chair. “I don't need you to marry me. I can take care of myself.” She always had before. Although she was terrified now, but she wouldn't admit it to him. She had spent the whole afternoon figuring out how she was going to pay for it. She was determined not to take anything from Adam. She had to do this herself. Even if she had to quit her job, give up school, and go on welfare. She wanted nothing from him.

“What are my kids going to think?” he said, with a look of panic. “How are we going to explain that to them?”

“I don't know. We should have thought of that on Yom Kippur.”

“Oh for God's sake, all I was thinking about on Yom Kippur was how much I hate my mother. I wasn't thinking about a baby.”

“Maybe it was meant to be,” she said, trying to be philosophical about it, but Adam didn't want to hear it.

“This was not meant to be. This was both of us being sloppy.”

“Maybe. But I love you, and even if you leave me right now, I'm having this baby.” She had dug her heels in and she wasn't moving an inch. The sonogram had done it. She was not killing their kid.

“I don't want a baby, Maggie.” He tried to reason with her.

“I'm not sure I do either, but that's what we've got. Or what I've got.” She sounded calm and unhappy. It was a lot to deal with, for both of them.

“I'm going to Vegas this weekend,” he said miserably. “We'll talk about it when I get back. Let's take a break from it till then. Let's both think some more, and maybe you'll change your mind.”