Coming Home (17 page)

Although her movements were dainty and her manners impeccable, her
appetite was enormous for such a small woman.  She matched him bite for bite,
then leaned back against a tree trunk, eyes closed, and basked in the sun. 
“Thank you,” she said at last.  “That was wonderful.”

“You’re wonderful,” he said.

Her eyes, when she opened them, were hazy and troubled.  “This is
so difficult,” she said.

“Why?”

Otis Redding had been replaced by Aretha, asking anybody within
hearing distance for a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T.  “I cannot change who I am,” Nancy
said.  “Any more than you can change who you are.  We are distinctly different
individuals, and this difference, I believe, is the source of our attraction to
one another.  But to think that a relationship between us could succeed would
be pure folly.”

“Maybe you just think I’m not good enough for you.”

“You are good enough,” she said softly.  “What you are not is
Chinese enough.”

He gave her a beguiling grin.  “So?  I’ll learn to eat with
chopsticks.”

“I wish it were that simple.”

“It could be,” he said, “if you’d only let it.”

A breeze ruffled her skirt, baring smooth, shapely brown legs. 
“I’m sorry,” she said.

He gathered up the remnants of their lunch, stuffing napkins and
paper cups and cellophane into the paper bag and tossing it into a nearby trash
container.  Then he helped her to her feet.  “I’ll walk you back to school,” he
said.

Outside the classroom building, he borrowed a pen from her and
scribbled on a scrap of paper.  “My phone number,” he said, pressing it into
her palm and closing her fingers over it.  “When you’re ready, give me a call.”

As they both studied the contrast between her skin color and his,
he thought she was going to throw the scrap of paper away.  Instead, she tucked
it into her purse.  “Good-bye, Rob MacKenzie,” she said.

“
Sayonara
, kiddo.”

For the first time, she smiled.  “That is Japanese,” she said.

He shrugged, unembarrassed. “The only Chinese words I know are
wonton soup and pork fried rice.”

With mock solemnity, she said, “Such ancient and honorable Chinese
words.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said, “by how handy they are when you’re
ordering Chinese take-out.”

“Thank you,” she said, “for a most memorable lunch.”

They stood, warm flesh clasped to warm flesh, eyes speaking the
words they dared not say aloud, until Nancy withdrew her hand.  “I must go,”
she said, “or I’ll be late for my next class.”  Her smile was wistful. 
“Good-bye, Mr. MacKenzie.”

He touched the velvet skin of her cheek.  “See you around, kiddo.”

As she walked away, Rob MacKenzie’s heart turned to stone.

***

The free clinic was uptown, in Spanish Harlem.  Most of the
patients were either black or Hispanic, but they couldn’t turn Casey away just
because she was white.  If she couldn’t afford to go elsewhere, they were
obligated to treat her.

The young doctor with the Afro examined her thoroughly, then left
her alone to dress.  When he returned, Casey sat on the end of the examining
table, hands clasped together, knuckles white.  “Mrs. Fiore,” the doctor said,
“when was the date of your last menstrual period?”

“Three weeks ago,” she said.  “Why?”

“Was it normal?  Shorter or longer than usual?  Was your flow
heavier or lighter than usual?”

“Why?”  She leaned forward.  “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong.  You’re ten weeks pregnant.”

Casey was stunned.  She hadn’t even considered the possibility of
pregnancy.  “That’s impossible,” she said.  “I’m on the pill.”

“Even the pill isn’t foolproof.”

She spent that afternoon walking the streets of Manhattan in a
daze.  She had longed so desperately for a baby.  But now that she was
confronted with the prospect of motherhood, she felt a dismay bordering on
despair.  They were broke, Danny’s career was at a standstill, and her marriage
was falling apart.  Half the time the refrigerator was empty, and she’d been
wearing the same shoes for two years.  How could she provide security to an
infant under those circumstances?

The future of her marriage was looking less and less certain. 
She’d tried everything she knew to break through Danny’s wall of silence, but
he’d failed to respond.  They had become two strangers sleeping in the same
bed.  How could she justify having a baby when her life was disintegrating
before her eyes?

In Washington Square Park, she watched a little girl in a yellow
sun dress playing with the pigeons.  Squealing with delight, the child swooped
down on the flock, and they scattered with a flutter of wings and soft coos of
reproach.  The girl ran back to her mother and scrambled up onto her lap, and
Casey felt a pang of jealousy so acute it took her breath away.  She wanted a
child’s sticky kisses and grubby hands.  She wanted a little girl she could
dress in ruffles and lace.  Or overalls and a baseball cap.  A laughing child
with her chin and Danny’s eyes.  But her hope wasn’t realistic.  Not at this
point in time.  There was no way she could keep this baby. 

She was going to have to terminate the pregnancy.

***

After two weeks of hell, the heat wave had finally broken.  Rain
was falling in a downpour, and Rob hunched his shoulders and thanked God that
he was a block from home.

Last night’s gig had lasted until two, and he’d been up again at
five-thirty for a shift of parking cars.  This morning Ramon had caught him sleeping
again.  He’d only dropped off for a minute, but Ramon had carried on like it
was hours.  He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to make it, living this
fractured life.  If he could crash for a couple of days he’d be okay, but this
sleeping in bits and pieces was killing him.

The apartment was silent.  He tossed his sodden shirt on the floor
and searched the laundry basket for a towel.  His stomach rumbled as he
vigorously toweled his hair.  He was going to eat everything in the
refrigerator that wasn’t green, and then he was going to take a long, hot
shower and crash for the next twelve hours.

He found Casey in the dark kitchen, bent over a cup of coffee so
old the milk had curdled on top.  “What gives?” he said, flipping on the
overhead light.  “They cut off our electricity or something?”

She snatched up her coffee cup and emptied it into the sink.  “Do
you have to sneak up on me like that?” she snapped.

He raised both eyebrows.  “Excuse me for living.”

She scrubbed furiously at the empty cup with a dishcloth. 
Skirting her, he opened the refrigerator and scrutinized its contents.  He
discovered some leftover hash in a plastic margarine tub, and half a grapefruit
that wasn’t too shriveled.  Kicking the door shut, he dropped his bounty on the
table and opened the drawer to get a fork.

It was then that he noticed the quaking of her shoulders.  He
stopped, fork in hand, to stare at her in astonishment.  Casey was not a
weeper.  In all the years he’d known her, he’d never seen her cry.  “Hey,” he
said, more gently, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  She rinsed the cup with trembling hands.  “Eat your
lunch.”

“You’re not fine.”  He set down the fork and caught her by the
shoulders and turned her so that he could see her face.  A tear rolled down her
cheek, and he wiped at it clumsily with his thumb.  “Hey,” he said.  “What is
it?”

“I’m pregnant.”

His hands tightened on her shoulders until he realized he must be
hurting her.  He released her and crossed his arms.  “Have you told Danny yet?”
he asked.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?  After a while, kiddo, it gets
pretty hard to hide.”

 Come on, Rob.  You know I can’t have a baby right now.”

“Why not?”

“Think about it.  What do you think Danny would do if I told him I
was pregnant?”

“Before or after the screaming?”

She didn’t laugh, and he wanted to kick himself for making a joke
out of it.  “It’s not that bad,” he said.  “Danny will adjust to the idea.”

“Look at the way we’re living.  Half the time we don’t have enough
to eat.  Imagine bringing a baby into the picture.  Danny would go out and get
some nine-to-five job, and that would be the end of his career, his dreams,
everything.  Can you picture him punching a cash register at Macy’s?”

He tried to, but couldn’t.  Like him, Danny was wedded to his music. 
“What are you going to do?”

“I’ve weighed all the options.  I’m going to have an abortion.”

“Jesus Christ, Casey, women die having abortions!”

Quietly, she said, “I won’t die.”

He drummed his fingers on the edge of the sink.  “I think you
should talk this over with Danny.”

“Danny would never let me go through with it.”

“How are you supposed to pay for it?”

She peeled back a piece of her thumbnail.  “Travis gave me some
money when we left Boston.  I’ve been saving it for an emergency.”  Her smile
was humorless.  “I guess this qualifies.”

“I can’t believe you’d do something this stupid!”

“I’ve looked at it from every possible angle.  It’s the only
answer.”

“Do you think I don’t know how bad you want a baby?  You’re being
a goddamn martyr, and I’d like to shake you!”

“I’m not the saint you think I am,” she told him.  “If Danny gives
up his career because of me, I’ll lose him.  I’m not letting that happen.  He’s
everything to me, Rob, everything!  So you see,” she said bitterly, “I’m really
looking out for my own interests.  I’m taking care of number one.”

He looked at his lunch and realized he’d lost his appetite. 
“Where do you find a doctor who does abortions?”

“This is New York, MacKenzie.  You can walk two blocks here and
find anything you want.”

She was right.  Even as he said the words, he hated himself. “Want
me to ask around?”

“You’d do that for me?” she said.

“It beats letting you go to some butcher.”

“And you won’t tell Danny?”

“No.”  He sighed in defeat.  “I won’t tell Danny.”

“I didn’t mean to lay all this on you.  I wasn’t going to tell
anyone.”

“That’s great, Fiore.  We could have read in the papers about how
you bled to death in an alley somewhere.”

The hallway was deliberately nondescript.  Rob knocked on the door
and it swung open immediately, as though the dour-faced woman in the white
uniform had been waiting for them.  She silently studied them both before
ushering them inside.  Not much bigger than a walk-in closet, the room held a
battered wooden desk and two hard chairs.  Not exactly designed for comfort. 

The woman held out her hand.  “The money?” she said.

Casey opened her purse and pulled out a sheaf of twenty-dollar
bills.  The woman counted them, nodded, and tucked them into her pocket. 
“There’s a place across the street,” she told Rob, “where you can get a cup of
coffee.”

“I’m staying with her,” he said.

The woman’s nostrils flared.  He’d upset her routine, and she
didn’t like it.  She gestured toward one of the chairs.  “You can wait here,
then.”

He squared his jaw.  “I think you missed the point,” he said. 
“I’m staying with her.”

For the first time, he saw uncertainty on her face.  “You can’t go
in there,” she said.  “It’s not allowed.”

“Either I go in with her,” he said, “or she walks back out the
door, with her four hundred bucks in her hot little hand.”

The woman glared at him with glittering pig eyes.  “I’ll have to
talk to the doctor,” she said, and disappeared through the inner door.

Casey was staring out the window, her spine ramrod stiff.  When he
touched her, he could feel her quivering.  “Are you sure you want to go through
with this?” he said.

She squared her shoulders.  “I don’t have a choice.”

He tightened his grip on those slender shoulders.  “ Danny should
be here with you.”

“No,” she said, turning, eyes wide with terror.  “If you tell,
I’ll never forgive you.”

The nurse returned with the doctor in tow.  Gray-haired and
stooped, he looked more like a kindly grandfather than a man who made his
living murdering unborn children.  Rob tried to squelch the thought, but it
wouldn’t go away.  “I’m sorry,” the doctor said, “but we don’t allow anybody
inside while we’re performing the procedure.”

“I’m responsible for her,” Rob said.  “I can’t let anything happen
to her.”

The doctor’s eyes softened.  “She’s in no danger, son.  I’m not a
butcher.”

Casey squeezed his hand.  “I’ll be all right.  Wait for me here.”