“I don't date a lot either,” he said sensibly. “Or I haven't for a while. It gets so tedious exchanging all that pointless information about what you do and don't do, like and don't like, where you've been and where you haven't. And then you discover she's a dominatrix who feeds rats to her pet snake, and you can't help wondering what the hell you're doing there. Maybe you have a point. Maybe I should adopt a baby too.” He smiled.
“You can come visit mine,” she said proudly, and he looked over at her tenderly.
“Can I see the baby tomorrow after she's born and you bring her home? I'd really love to see her. I feel like I'm part of the official welcoming committee now.”
“You are,” Paris said, as they entered Berkeley. And a few minutes later he stopped at the hospital, and told her he'd park the car.
“Good luck,” he said. She had remembered to put the baby seat in the car to bring the baby home in, and he told her to call him on his cell phone if she wanted him to come back in a cab and drive her. He handed her a card with the number. And she leaned over to kiss his cheek and thanked him.
“Thank you, Andrew. You've been terrific. You're the first real person I've told. Thank you for not telling me I'm crazy.” It had been a reality check for her, particularly as she had a great deal of respect for him.
“You are crazy,” he smiled at her, “good crazy. This is very good crazy. More people should do wonderful things like this. I hope you'll both be very happy, you and the baby.”
“I feel so sorry for the birth mother,” Paris said softly, and Andrew shook his head. He couldn't imagine giving up a baby and how awful that would be. Knowing how he loved his own children, it seemed like the ultimate agony to him, and to Paris. They felt deeply for her.
“So do I,” Andrew said. “I hope everything goes smoothly.” And as Paris got out of the car, he looked back up at her. “Call me when the baby gets here. I'll be dying to hear from you. I want to know who she looks like.”
“Me, of course,” Paris said, smiling happily, and waved as she walked into the hospital, and he drove into the parking lot in her car, smiling to himself. Richard had been right about his mother-in-law. She was a terrific woman.
“How's it going?” Paris asked sympathetically as she arrived.
“Okay,” Amy said, trying to be a good sport, but she groaned out loud when the next contraction hit her. They had an external monitor on her and the baby's heartbeat was fine, but the part of the monitor that showed the force of the contractions was nearly off the charts. The graphs on the paper tape looked like a major earthquake.
“Wow! Those are big ones,” Paris said as the nurse showed her how to read it. She changed into hospital pajamas then, so she'd be ready for the delivery room, and took Amy's hand in hers. There was no one else with her. Her husband had been at the neighbor's when she left for the hospital in a taxi, and she had dropped off the boys at a friend's. It was a lonely way to have a baby. But at least Paris was there. And she had had the presence of mind to bring the papers she needed to have the baby released to her. And the hospital had been notified by Alice Harper about the adoption. Everything was in order. All they needed now was the baby.
Amy was doing her best to have it. And her body was cooperating nicely. The nurse said she was dilated to ten, an hour after Paris got there. From their point of view, it was going fine, but poor Amy was writhing in agony as she lay there, and she was determined to do it without medication. Paris didn't argue with her, although she herself had had an epidural and much preferred it to natural childbirth. But Amy insisted it was better for the baby. Maybe she felt it was her final gift to her.
