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.”
“I won't.” She was a mother lion defending her young.
“Don't be so stubborn.”
“Don't be so mean.” She looked at him sadly.
“I'm not being mean. I'm trying to be a good sport about this, but you're not making it easy. It's mean to have a baby that no one wants. I'm just not prepared to have a baby, Maggie. I don't want to get married again. I don't want a baby. I'm too old.”
“You're just too mean. You'd rather kill it,” she said, bursting into tears, and he wanted to cry himself.
“I'm not mean!” he shouted after her as she ran into the bathroom again, as much to hide from him as to be sick.
The rest of the week was no better. They stayed off the subject, but it hung between them like a nuclear bomb ready to go off. He was relieved to leave for Vegas on Thursday. He needed to get out. He stayed over on Sunday night. He was waiting for her when she got back from work on Monday. He was sitting in a chair with a look of resignation.
“How was your weekend?” she asked, but didn't come over to kiss him. She had been upset all weekend, and wondered if he was cheating on her because he was upset. She hadn't left the apartment, and she had cried herself to sleep every night, thinking that he hated her and would probably leave her and she'd be alone with their baby, and never see him again.
“It was fine. I did a lot of thinking.” Her heart nearly stopped as she waited for him to tell her that she had to move out. She had become an embarrassment to him.
“I think we should get married. You can come out to Vegas with me next week. I have to go back anyway. We'll get married quietly, and that'll be that.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean, 'that'll be that'? Then I leave, but the baby is legal?” She had thought of a thousand terrible scenarios, and not one good one. He had.
“No, then we're married, we have the baby, and we live our life. Together. With the baby. Okay? Now are you happy?” He didn't look happy either, but he was trying to do the right thing. “Besides, I love you.”
