Fertility: A Novel (15 page)

“You’re a wonderful man, Rick. I really like you. And I’ll understand if you get your clothes on, walk out the door and never look back. You owe me nothing. You owe this embryo nothing. By continuing with the pregnancy, I am taking full responsibility for the child, financially and otherwise.”

Rick thought this was the worst thing she could have said. If she had chosen to get an abortion, they could pick up and carry on like nothing had happened. If she had demanded he pony up and become a father to her baby, he could rail against her for roping him into something he’d sworn off. But here she was, as ever, the straight shooter: I want it, you don’t. I’m letting you off the hook.

“Jesus Christ, Sarah…I don’t know…I don’t know what to say…,” he stammered. “I know it’s your body. But don’t I get a vote?”

“What would you say if you were deciding?”

“I’d say, ‘We’re doing fine without a baby. Who needs to ruin this great thing we have?’”

“So you’d abort it.”

“Yeah, I would, so we could keep on like we have been. I love being with you, Sarah. I know you’ve enjoyed it, too. Why mess with it?”

“You say we have a great thing going. But what is it exactly, Rick? What is it we have?”

“What is it? Are you nuts? It’s perfect. I was just thinking that a few minutes ago. We get along so well. We like the same things. And you can’t deny the chemistry we have, Sarah. You don’t find chemistry like ours every day,” he said, almost beseeching her to see things his way.

Sarah nodded her head slowly. “You’re right about all of that. Up until now we were on the same page about what we wanted and it’s been great. But this pregnancy is a game changer. I saw the embryo today on the ultrasound, with its tiny heart beating. I never imagined I’d see a child growing inside me. I never even let myself entertain the hope of becoming pregnant. But now, somehow, it’s here,” she said as she placed her hand on her stomach.

“I’d wager that as much as I want this pregnancy, you’d like it to go away. You know there’s no way to compromise on this, Rick. One point of view has to prevail. I’m sorry I’m making you unhappy. I would never intentionally do that. What I’m trying to say is, if luck is with me, I’m going to have a child next winter…and it would be lovely if we could do this together. But if you decide to beg off, I’ll respect your decision.”

He was defeated. Tears of anger rolled down his cheeks. “You’re right about one thing. This is a game changer, Sarah. I never signed up for fatherhood. You know that and you’re still choosing to have the baby.”

“I am. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want a kid — not now, not ever. I got that out on the table from the get-go. I never misled you.”

“You never did. That’s why I know what you have to do now. It’s all right, Rick. Really, it is.”

He put his arms around her and suppressed a sob. Then he kissed her hair, her cheek, her neck and finally her lips. They made love once more, slowly, each savoring every touch, every smell, every part of their lover’s body.

When they finally exhausted one another, Rick got up from the sofa, put on his clothes and left the key on the kitchen table where Sarah would be sure to find it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Susan Smith had two great loves in her life. The first was her work as a professor of health care policy at the large research university down the street from her small, utilitarian home; the second was her only child, Rick. She had nearly lost him when, as a little boy, he had been critically injured in an automobile accident. But her boy had exceeded everyone’s expectations, eventually regaining both his health and vigor. He grew up to be the kind of man she’d hoped to raise: devoted to the service of others, intellectually curious and fearless in the face of authority. His sense of humor was an added bonus — she took no credit for it, but still, his irreverent quips gave her great pleasure. So it was with alarm she noticed that, on call after call, her son’s usual good humor was replaced by irritability and impatience.

Susan had no idea what had thrown her sturdy son off his game, but, as good mothers are wont to do, she decided to find out by doing some reconnaissance in the form of a visit. A health reform conference provided the pretext for her trip to New York. She sent in her late registration fee and e-mailed Rick her schedule, asking if she might sleep on his pullout sofa for a couple of nights.

Rick agreed to his mother’s request, but had mixed emotions about her visit. They were closer than most mothers and sons, maybe because it had been just the two of them after his father left. When he was young, his mother was his rock. During his adolescence, she parted company with most of his friends’ mothers by giving him the chance to make mistakes. She offered advice, but sparingly, usually waiting to be asked. Rick learned the hard way that he ignored that advice at his peril.

He knew he probably could use some of what his mother had to offer now, but he worried about her seeing him as he was. She could always read him like a book, and the truth was he was a mess. Try as he might, he couldn’t get Sarah out of his head. Beer had become his nightly friend, helping to quiet the demons that rose up as soon as he didn’t have work to distract him. It wasn’t until he’d downed his sixth bottle — usually while watching some game at home — that he could stand being with himself every night.

On the day his mother was scheduled to arrive, he was thankful he had workups for several new admissions to keep him occupied. He blocked out everything but his patients, including the passage of time. When he looked at his watch, he realized his mother had been on the ground in New York for more than an hour.

It was Jeff who answered the buzzer, letting Susan into the upscale building he and Rick had moved to after becoming attending physicians. Jeff had only met Rick’s mother once before — and briefly at that — when she had done some consulting for the city’s public health department. That meeting left Jeff wondering how such a small, serious, blond had spawned his tall, dark, smart-aleck friend. He could only guess that Rick took after the other side of the family.

He remembered his musings on Rick’s genetic inheritance as the elevator opened to reveal its only passenger. Wearing a battered, tan trench coat and brown flats, the petite gray-blond woman walked toward the apartment door with a brisk step, dragging her suitcase behind her. Though unadorned, except for some earrings Rick had sent her for Mother’s Day, she was handsome in the way a healthy, fit, older woman could be. Never a beauty, this was the highest physical ideal she could aspire to, and though she would hesitate to admit it, aspire she did. Her son may have gotten his good looks from his father, but he had gotten his athletic talent and drive from his quietly competitive mother.

“Hello, Jeff,” Susan said as she approached the apartment door. “It’s so nice of you to put me up. I really appreciate it, especially with the cost of a hotel room in your neck of the woods.”

“We’re so glad you could join us in our new bachelor pad,” Jeff lied, aware of Rick’s ambivalence about his mother’s visit. “Come in, come in. Rick is still at the hospital, but he phoned a little while ago to say he thought he could wrap things up by 7:30. Have you eaten yet?”

“Oh, no, no. Not even a complimentary pretzel on the plane. I’d love to take you boys — oh, pardon me, men — to dinner. I’m famished and I’ll eat anywhere you suggest, as long as it’s nearby and we get there soon.”

Jeff took her coat and wheeled her carry-on next to the convertible sofa in the living room. “How do you feel about Japanese food?” he inquired as he motioned to the sofa to offer her a seat.

“I simply love it. And it’s so healthy. I think the Japanese have cornered the market on diet. You know, Okinawans have the greatest longevity. We could take a page out of their book.”

“You’re absolutely right, but I don’t think you’ll be convincing your son that he should switch to fish and vegetables anytime soon. Maybe he’ll go for the Japanese beer and the sake. And he’s a fan of sushi, but don’t take his beef away from him, especially lately. He’s been on a meat-and-potatoes diet of late, but don’t tell him I told you,” Jeff confided as he sat down in the armchair next to the sofa.

“Oh? Don’t tell me he’s becoming a fan of the American diet. It must be the stress of the job,” she suggested, grabbing the opening for a discussion about her son’s change in mood.

“You know health care, Mrs. Smith. We’re always stressed. It’s the nature of the biz.”

“Please, call me Susan. Mrs. Smith sounds like the woman who supposedly makes those frozen pies,” she offered. “But in terms of stress, Rick seems a bit more stressed than usual, at least as far as I can tell from our phone conversations. I know that’s hardly a reliable metric, but you know mothers, Jeff. We have our antennae.”

“Indeed I do. My mother’s intuition is uncanny. Once when I was a teenager, she knew I’d been hurt before I even called her from the ER. I’d slipped and fallen on broken glass, cutting my hand and requiring stitches. She didn’t know the particulars, but she swears she knew I was injured.” Jeff was actually glad that Rick’s mother was going down this road. He was eager to talk to someone about Rick’s newfound short temper. Just yesterday Rick had railed at him for using the last of the ketchup; this from a guy who never used to eat dinner at home.

“Scientifically, I have no idea if there’s a basis for this, but I know that mothers know their offspring. And I sense that something is irritating Rick. I just assumed it was work, but perhaps I’m off base on that,” Susan said, fishing for information.

Jeff wondered how much to disclose. He knew Rick was a pretty private guy, but he was worried about him. He’d broken up with Sarah — or she with him, he never did find out who had pulled the trigger — more than three months ago. Since then he’d been off. He still had an occasional one-night stand, but he was home nearly every night. And from the looks of the pile of bottles waiting to be recycled, his intake of beer was impressive. If he wasn’t mistaken, Rick was even developing the beginnings of a beer gut — nothing dramatic, but something of note for a guy who had always had washboard abs.

“Yeah, Rick hasn’t been quite himself lately,” Jeff said honestly, while remaining vague.

“So you’ve noticed it, too?” Susan asked.

“I guess so. I mean he’s fine, but it’s just that Rick is usually a laugh a minute — you know, he’s a funny guy. And lately he’s just quieter, more thoughtful I guess you could say.”

“I don’t want to pry. After all, I’m well aware that he’s a grown man. But did something happen to precipitate the change?” Susan asked. “Of course, I don’t mean to put you in an awkward position. I’m not asking you to break any confidences,” she added quickly.

“No, no. No confidences. I think he’s just…maybe,” he struggled, “I mean I’m guessing here — maybe he’s in a funk about his love life. It’s a common lament among single men our age. No big deal,” Jeff said, trying to give Rick’s mother some pertinent — if generic — information.

“Oh, I see. Yes, it’s a lament common to the human condition, I would say. Is there anyone in particular he’s lamenting over?” Susan knew she was pushing the limits of motherly investigation, but she thought it worth a try.

Jeff wasn’t sure if he should say anything about Sarah. He figured the breakup had precipitated Rick’s edginess. At the very least, it was coincident with his change in mood. He decided to approach the subject tangentially.

“I don’t know how active Rick’s social life was when he lived at home. But since I’ve known him, he’s gone out with a lot of great women. Only recently he was dating an attorney, as smart as she was good-looking. I liked her a lot.”

“And?” Susan asked, anxious for the rest of the story.

“Oh, the usual. Rick enjoys meeting lots of women. He’s definitely not a one-woman man. Me, on the other hand, I’m waiting for my one woman to hit me over the head and drag me down the aisle.”

Just as they were sharing a laugh about that, they heard the key in the door. A disheveled and out-of-breath Rick made his entrance, having run the three blocks from the hospital. His mother got to her feet and gave him a hug, which he returned in kind. Jeff was impressed by how long they embraced, especially considering how wound up Rick had gotten when he told Jeff his mother was going to visit.

Jeff stayed in his chair, feeling a bit awkward. Just as he was about to excuse himself, Susan released her son from her embrace and declared, “I’m starving!” Rick broke into a broad grin.

“Dr. Smith, the patient is demanding food, and I think it best if we feed her. Perhaps some Japanese would do,” Jeff suggested.

“I concur, Dr. Gotbaum. That’s clearly the best course of treatment: Feed her. I think an immediate dose of vegetable tempura might do the trick,” Rick quipped, relieved and happy that Jeff had initiated the banter.

Susan was only too happy to join in. “Well, after a trip to the john, this patient will be ready to participate in your suggested treatment. And then, stand back. You’ll be surprised how much a woman my size can put away. I hope I won’t embarrass you in the restaurant.”

“Don’t worry, Mom, if anyone asks we’ll say we picked you up on the street, a hungry Midwestern tourist.”

“You won’t hurt my feelings if you pretend you never set eyes on me before.” With that, Susan excused herself as she went off to the john, which still smelled of the disinfectant Rick had used that morning when he took a rare turn at cleaning the bathroom. As Susan sat on the toilet, she breathed a thankful sigh that she’d come. Rick wasn’t himself. If all was well, he never would have let her hug him like that in front of a friend. And he had actually hugged her back.

* * *

Susan had not exaggerated her hunger. She ordered miso soup to start, followed by an appetizer of
age dofu
. She polished off a platter of vegetable tempura, leaving not a single grain of the accompanying brown rice. For her grand finale, she had some
mochi
and green tea before declaring herself sated. Rick and Jeff enjoyed both their food and the lively dinner conversation; the hot sake they shared added to their high spirits. The more time Jeff spent with Susan, the more he began to see the wit he knew so well in her son. He decided she must have been quite the firecracker in her younger days. Not so different from Rick after all.