Fine things (15 page)

“Yes?” He smiled, but only his mouth moved. His eyes were as cold as ice as they slid over Bernie.

“My name is Fine.” He knew that was all he had to say.

“Great.” Chandler beamed. “Got something for me?”

Bernie nodded, but did not rush to hand him the envelope, as Chandler Scott's eyes took in every detail of the clothes he was wearing. “Yes, I do.” The eyes then took in his watch, but he had been careful not to wear a Patek Philippe, or even his Rolex. He was wearing a watch his father had given him years before, when he was in business school, but even that wasn't cheap, and Scott knew it. He suspected that he had hit a live one.

“Looks like little Liz found herself a nice husband this time around.”

Bernie did not comment. He silently pulled the envelope from his inside breast pocket. “I believe this is what you want. You can count it. It's all there.”

He glanced at Bernie for the flicker of an instant. “How do I know it's real?”

“Are you serious?” Bernie was shocked. “Where the hell do you think I would get counterfeit money?”

“It's been done before.”

“Take it to the bank, have them take a look. I'll wait here.” Bernie refused to look worried, and Scott didn't look as though he was going anywhere as he thumbed through the hundred-dollar bills in the envelope. It was all there. Ten thousand dollars. “I want to make one thing very clear before you go. Don't come back again. We won't give you a dime next time. Is that clear?”

His eyes bore into Chandler's and the handsome blond smiled. “I get the message.” He drained his drink, set down the glass, slipped the envelope into his blazer, and looked at Bernie one last time. “Give Liz my love. Sorry not to have seen her.” Bernie wanted to kick him in the gut, but he sat very still. It was interesting he hadn't mentioned Jane once since they'd met. He had sold her for ten thousand dollars, and with a casual wave at the bartender, he strolled out of the restaurant and sauntered around the corner, as Bernie sat shaking at the bar. He didn't even want his drink. He just wanted to go home to Liz, and make sure she was all right. He was faintly afraid that he might show up to bother Liz, or try to see Jane in spite of the arrangement. But Bernie found it difficult to believe that he cared about the child. He had shown absolutely no interest in her.

He hurried outside, got back in his car, and drove to Buchanan and Vallejo. He left the car in front of their garage and hurried up the steep steps. He felt shaken by the encounter and he wasn't sure why, but all he knew was he had to see Liz. He struggled with the key, and at first he thought there was no one home, but as he looked into the kitchen he saw her. She was brushing the hair out of her eyes and baking more cookies for him and Jane.

“Hi there.” His face broke into a slow smile. He was so relieved to see her he could have cried, and she sat down heavily on a kitchen chair, and smiled up at him. She looked like a princess in a fairy tale, except for the enormous tummy. “Hello, sweetheart.” He went to gently touch her face and she leaned her head against him. She had been worried about him all morning, and feeling guilty because of the trouble and expense she had caused him.

“Did everything go all right?”

“Perfectly. And he looked exactly the way you said he would. I suspect he's very hard up for money.”

“If that's true, he'll wind up in jail again pretty soon. That man has pulled off more scams and con jobs than anyone can imagine.”

“What does he need the money for?”

“To survive, I guess. He's just never known how to earn a living any other way. I used to think that if he put as much effort into something honest, he could have been the head of General Motors by now.” He smiled at her. “Did he say anything about Jane?”

“Not a word. He just took the money and ran, as the saying goes.”

“Good. And I hope he never comes back again.” She heaved a sigh of relief and smiled at Bernie. She was so grateful to have him, especially after the tough times she'd been through before him. She never lost sight of how lucky she was now.

“I hope so too, Liz.” But he wasn't convinced they had seen the last of Chandler Scott. He was just too slick, and a little too cheerful. But he didn't tell her that. She had enough to think about. He wanted to suggest adopting Jane to her now too, but he didn't want to burden her with anything until after the baby was born. She was so tired and so uncomfortable most of the time. “Anyway, just put it out of your mind. It's all over, finished, goodbye. How's our little friend?” He rubbed her tummy like a Buddha and she laughed.

“He sure kicks a lot. He feels like he's going to come any minute.” Her baby was getting so heavy and she was carrying it so low that she could barely walk now, and he wouldn't have dared try to make love to her. You could feel the baby's head pressing down on her pelvis, and she said she felt it constantly, pressing on her bladder. In fact, that night she had several sharp pains, and he made her call the doctor. But the doctor wasn't impressed by what she said, and they went back to bed for the rest of the night, although she couldn't sleep.

The next three weeks crawled by at a snail's pace, and ten days past her due date she was so exhausted she sat down and cried when Jane wouldn't eat her dinner.

“It's all right, sweetheart.” He had offered to take them out but Jane had a cold and Liz was too tired. She didn't want to get dressed up anymore and her hips hurt constantly. Bernie read Jane a story that night and took her to school the next day himself, eliminating the need for the carpool. And he had just walked into his office when his secretary buzzed him on the intercom, as he glanced over some reports from New York about their sales figures for March, which were outstanding.

“Yes?”

“It's Mrs. Fine on four.”

“Thanks, Irene.” He picked up the line, still perusing the reports and wondering why she had called. “What's up, sweetheart?” He didn't think he'd forgotten anything at home. He wondered if Jane's cold had gotten worse and she wanted him to pick her up at school now. “Everything okay?”

She giggled, which was a major change from her mood when he'd left that morning. She had been distracted and grumpy and she had snapped at him when he suggested they go out to dinner that night. But he understood how jumpy she was and how lousy she felt and he didn't get upset when she barked at him. “Everything's just fine.” She suddenly sounded excited and happy.

“Well, you certainly sound cheerful. Anything special happen?”

“Maybe.”

“What does that mean?” His antenna suddenly went up.

“My water just broke.”

“Hallelujah! I'll be right home.”

“You don't have to, nothing major has started yet, just a few little cramps.” But she sounded so victorious and he couldn't have stayed away. They had waited nine and a half months for this and he wanted to be there with her.

“Did you call the doctor yet?”

“I did. He said to call him when things start to happen.”

“How long does he think that will take?”

“You remember what they said in class. It could get going half an hour from now, or maybe not till tomorrow morning. It should be soon though.”

“I'll be right there. Do you want anything?”

She smiled at the phone. “Just my sweetheart…. I'm sorry I've been such a bitch these past few weeks. … I just felt so rotten.” She hadn't even told him how badly her back and hips hurt all the time.

“I know you did. Don't you worry about that, baby. It's almost over.”

“I can hardly wait to see the baby.” But suddenly, she was scared too, and when he got home he found her very tense, so he rubbed her back, and talked to her while she took a shower. And the shower seemed to get things started. She sat down afterwards with a serious look, and she winced as she got the first strong contractions. He made her breathe, and got out his favorite watch while he timed them. “Do you have to wear that thing?” She was getting grouchy again, but they both knew why from what they learned in the class they had taken. She was probably going into transition. “Why do you have to wear that watch? It's so gaudy.” He smiled to himself, knowing that she was getting closer. Her irritability meant this was the real thing.

He called Tracy at school and asked her to take Jane home with her that afternoon. She was excited to hear that Liz was in labor, and by one o'clock the pains were coming hard and fast, and Liz could barely catch her breath between them. It was definitely time to go, and the doctor was waiting at the hospital when they got there. Bernie was pushing Liz in a wheelchair as a nurse walked behind them, and Liz signaled to him to stop each time she had a contraction. And suddenly she began to wave frantically, unable to catch her breath as one contraction became two and then three and four without letting up, and she started to cry as they helped her out of the wheelchair in the labor room, and up onto the bed where Bernie helped her take her clothes off.

“It's okay, baby…. It's okay. …” He suddenly wasn't scared anymore. He couldn't imagine anyplace else to be, except with her, as their baby came. She let out a hideous scream as the next contraction came, and a worse one as the doctor examined her. Bernie held her hands and told her to breathe but she was having a difficult time concentrating and she was losing control, as the doctor looked down at her, satisfied with her progress.

“You're doing fine, Liz.” He was a warmhearted man with gray hair and blue eyes, and Bernie had liked him from the first, as had Liz. He exuded competence and warmth, as he did now, but Liz wasn't listening. She was clutching Bernie's arm, and screaming with each contraction. “You're eight centimeters dilated …two more to go …and you can start pushing.”

“I don't want to push … I want to go home. …” Bernie smiled at the doctor, and urged her to pant. And the next two centimeters went faster than the doctor expected. She was in the delivery room pushing by four o'clock, and it was eight hours since labor had begun, which didn't seem long to Bernie as he talked to Liz and quieted her over and over, but it seemed like an eternity to her as the pains continued to roar through her.

“I can't take anymore!” She suddenly screamed, refusing to pant anymore. But they were putting her legs in the stirrups now, and the doctor was talking about doing an epi-siotomy. “I don't care what you do…. Just get that baby out of me….” She was sobbing now like a child, and Bernie felt a lump rise in his throat as he watched her. He couldn't stand watching her continue to writhe in pain and the breathing didn't seem to help her at all, but the doctor didn't look worried.

“Can't you give her something?” Bernie whispered and the doctor shook his head as the nurses began to run around everywhere and two women in green surgical suits came in pushing a bassinet with a heat lamp, and suddenly it all became real. The bassinet was there for their baby. The baby was coming, and he bent low next to Liz' ear and encouraged her to breathe, and then push when the doctor told her.

“I can't…can't…hurts too much …” She couldn't take much more, and Bernie was stunned when he looked at his watch and saw that it was after six o'clock. She had been pushing for more than two hours.

“Come on.” The doctor was intent now. “Push harder …come on, Liz! Again …Now! …that's it…that's it…come on …the baby's head is crowning …he's coming through …come
on!”
And then suddenly along with Liz' howl of anguish, there was another smaller one, and Bernie stared as the baby's head came from between her legs into the doctor's hands, and he propped up Liz' shoulders so she could watch and push again, and suddenly he was there. Their son. She was crying and laughing and Bernie was kissing her and crying too. It was a celebration of life, and just as they had promised, the pain was almost forgotten. The doctor cut the cord once the placenta was out, and he handed Bernie his son as Liz watched, trembling on the delivery table as she smiled, and the nurse assured her that the trembling was a normal reaction too. They cleaned her up as Bernie held the baby's face next to hers, and she kissed the satin cheek of their baby.

“What's his name?” The doctor smiled at them both as Bernie beamed and Liz continued to touch the baby with wonder.

They exchanged a look, and Liz said her son's name for the first time. “Alexander Arthur Fine.”

“Arthur was my grandfather,” Bernie explained. Neither of them was crazy about the baby's middle name, but Bernie had promised his mother. “Alexander A. Fine,” he repeated, and bent to kiss his wife, with the baby in his arms, their tears mixing as they kissed, and the baby slept happily as Bernie held him.

Chapter 16

The arrival of Alexander Arthur Fine created a stir like no other that had occurred in the recent history of his family. Bernie's parents arrived, carrying shopping bags full of gifts and toys, for Jane, and Liz, and the baby. Grandma Ruth was especially careful about not neglecting Jane. She made an enormous fuss over her, for which Bernie and Liz were grateful.

“You know, sometimes just when I decide I can't stand her, my mother does something so nice, I can't believe she's the same woman who's always driven me crazy.”

Liz smiled at him. They were even closer now that they had shared Alexander's birth. They were both still awed by the experience. “Maybe Jane will say that about me one day.”

“I don't think so.”

“I wish I were sure of that.” Liz laughed at him again. “I'm not so sure I'm exempt. … I think a mother is a mother is a mother. …”

“Never fear. I won't let you …” He patted Alexander's behind as he lay sleeping on his mother's chest after she had nursed him. “Don't worry, kid, if she shows any early signs, I'll beat the hell out of her for you.” But he bent to kiss her, as she sat comfortably in their bed, in an ice blue satin bed jacket his mother had brought her.

“She spoils me rotten, you know.”

“She should. You're her only daughter.” And she had given Liz the ring that Lou had given her when Bernie was born thirty-six years before. It was an emerald surrounded by small, perfect diamonds. And they had both been touched by the importance of the gesture.

They stayed for three weeks, at the Huntington again, and Ruth helped her with the baby every day while Jane was in school, and then in the afternoon she took Jane out for special treats and private adventures. It was a huge help to Liz, who had no one to help her and refused to let Bernie hire anyone. She wanted to take care of the baby herself, and she had always cleaned her own house and done her own cooking. “I couldn't stand having someone else do it for me.” And she was so adamant about it, that he let her. But he noticed that she wasn't really getting her strength back. And his mother said as much to him before she left for New York.

“I don't think she should nurse the baby. It takes too much out of her. She's just exhausted.” The doctor had warned her that that would happen, and Liz wasn't impressed when Bernie told her he thought she'd recover more quickly if she gave up nursing.

“You sound just like your mother.” She scowled at him from her bed. After four weeks, she was still in bed most of the day. “Nursing makes all the difference in the world to the baby. They get all the immunities they need …” She gave him the party line of the nursing enthusiasts, but he still wasn't convinced. His mother had worried him about how tired Liz was, and whether or not it was normal.

“Don't be so California.”

“Mind your own business.” She laughed at him and wouldn't hear of giving up nursing the baby. The only thing that really bothered her was that her hips still hurt, which surprised her.

He went to New York and Europe in May, after his parents left, and Liz was still too tired to go with him, and wouldn't consider weaning the baby. But he was upset when he found her just as tired when he got back, and even more so at Stinson Beach that summer. And he thought she was having trouble walking, but she wouldn't admit it to him or the doctor.

“I think you should go back to the doctor, Liz.” He was beginning to insist. Alexander was four months old, and a strapping baby with his father's green eyes, and his mother's golden curls. But Liz was looking pale and wan, even after two months at the beach, and the final straw came when she refused to go to the opening of the opera with him. She said it was too much trouble to go in and pick out a dress, and she didn't have time anyway. She had to start teaching again in September. But he knew just how exhausted she was when he heard her make arrangements with Tracy to sub for her part-time until she felt better.

“What was that all about? You won't go downtown to pick out a dress, and you won't go to Europe with me next month”—she had turned that down too even though he knew how much she had loved Paris when she went with him before—“and now you only want to work part-time. What the hell is going on?” He was frightened, and that night he called his father. “What do you think it is, Dad?”

“I don't know. Has she been to her doctor?”

“She won't go. She says it's normal for nursing mothers to be tired. But he's nearly five months old for chrissake, and she refuses to wean him.”

“She may have to. She might just be anemic.” It was a simple solution to the problem, and Bernie felt relieved after he had spoken to him but he insisted that she go to the doctor anyway and he was secretly beginning to wonder if she was pregnant.

Pretending to grumble all the way, she made an appointment the following week, but her obstetrician couldn't find anything wrong with her gynecologically She wasn't pregnant again at any rate, and he sent her to an internist for some simple tests. An EKG, some blood tests, an X ray, and whatever else he thought was indicated. She had an appointment with the internist at three o'clock in the afternoon, and Bernie was enormously relieved that she was doing it. He was leaving for Europe in a few weeks, and he wanted to know what was going on before he left, and if the doctors in San Francisco couldn't figure it out, he was going to take her to New York and leave her with his father, and see if he couldn't find someone to figure out what was wrong with her.

The internist who checked her out seemed to think she was all right. He did several ordinary tests. Her blood pressure was fine, the electrocardiogram looked good, her blood count was low, so he ran a few more elaborate tests, and when he listened to her chest, he suspected she might have a mild case of pleurisy.

“And that's probably what's been wearing you out.” He smiled. He was a tall Nordic man with large hands and a big voice and she felt comfortable with him. He sent her to a lab for a chest X ray and at five-thirty she got home, and kissed Bernie, who was reading Jane a story as they waited for her. She had left both children with a sitter that afternoon, which was rare for her.

“See …I'm fine … I told you so.”

“Then how come you're so tired?”

“Pleurisy. He sent me for a chest X ray just to be sure I don't have some weird disease, and other than that I'm great.”

“And too tired to go to Europe with me.” He still wasn't convinced. “What's this guy's name anyway?”

“Why?” She looked at him suspiciously. What was he going to do now? What else did he expect her to do?

“I want my father to check him out.”

“Oh, for chrissake …” The baby was crying to be nursed and she went to his room to pick him up while Bernie wrote the check for the babysitter. Alexander was fat and blond and green-eyed and beautiful and he squealed with delight the minute she approached and burrowed happily at her breast, patting her with one hand as she held him close to her. And later when she set him down to sleep again, she tiptoed out of his room, and found her husband standing there waiting for her. She smiled at him and touched his cheek, looking up at him. “Don't worry so much, sweetheart,” she whispered to him. “Everything is fine.”

He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “That's how I want it to be.” Jane was playing in her room, the baby was asleep, and he looked down at his wife, but she looked too pale to him, and there were circles under her eyes that never went away anymore, and she was much, much too thin. He wanted to believe that everything was fine, but a gnawing fear inside him kept saying that it was not, and he held her for a long time, and then she went to cook dinner, and he played with Jane. And that night, as Liz slept he looked down at her fearfully. And when the baby woke at four o'clock, Bernie didn't wake her up, but made up one of the bottles with the supplement he took, and held the baby close to him.

Alexander was satisfied with the bottle and cooed happily in Bernie's arms as he smiled at the child, changed his diapers eventually, and then set him down again. He was becoming an expert at that sort of thing, and that morning it was Bernie who answered the phone when Dr. Johanssen called. Liz was still sleeping.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Fine, please.” The voice was not rude, but curt, and Bernie went to wake her up.

“It's for you.”

“Who is it?” She looked at him sleepily. It was nine o'clock, on Saturday morning.

“I don't know. He didn't say.” But he suspected it was the doctor, and it frightened him as Liz read the fear in his eyes.

“A man? For me?”

The caller identified himself as quickly to her and asked her to come in at ten o'clock. It was Dr. Johanssen.

“Is something wrong?” she asked him, glancing at her husband.

But the doctor took too long to answer. It couldn't be. She was tired, but not that tired. She glanced at Bernie involuntarily, and could have kicked herself.

“Can it wait?” But Bernie was shaking his head no.

“I don't think it should, Mrs. Fine. Why don't you and your husband come in to see me in a little while?” He sounded much too calm and it frightened her. She hung up the phone and tried to make light of it for Bernie's sake.

“Christ, he acts like I have syphilis.”

“What did he say it is?”

“He didn't say. He just said to come in an hour from now.”

“Okay, we will.” He looked terrified while trying to pretend that he was not, and he called Tracy for her while she got dressed. Tracy said she'd be over in half an hour. She'd been doing some gardening and she was a mess but she'd be happy to sit with the kids for an hour or two. She sounded as concerned as he felt, but she didn't ask any questions when she arrived. She was cheerful and business-like and sped them on their way.

They barely spoke at all on the way to the hospital where they were meeting the doctor, and they found his office there easily. He had two X rays clipped to a light box when they walked into the room, and he smiled at them, but the smile wasn't cheerful enough somehow, and suddenly, feeling a hand of terror at her throat, Liz wanted to run away and not hear what he had to say to them.

Bernie introduced himself and Dr. Johanssen asked them to sit down. He hesitated for only an instant, and then did not mince words with them. It was serious. Liz was terrified.

“Yesterday when I saw you, Mrs. Fine, I thought that you had pleurisy. A mild case perhaps. Today, I want to discuss it with you.” He swiveled in his chair and pointed the tip of his pen at two spots on her lungs. “I don't like the looks of these.” He was honest with her.

“What do they mean?” She could hardly catch her breath.

“I'm not sure. But I'd like to reconsider another symptom you mentioned yesterday. The pain in your hips.”

“What does that have to do with my lungs?”

“I think a bone scan may tell us more of what we want to know.” He explained the procedure to them, and he had already made arrangements for her at the hospital. It was a simple test, involving an injection of radioactive isotopes to show lesions in the skeleton.

“What do you think it is?” She was feeling panicked and confused, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. But she had to.

“I'm not sure. The spots on your lungs may indicate a problem elsewhere in your system.”

She could barely think all the way to the hospital, absent-mindedly clutching Bernie's hand. All he wanted was to get away from her to call his father and there was no way he could leave her. He was with her when they administered the injection. She looked gray and terrified and it was only moderately painful. But it was terrifying as they sat and waited for the doctor to talk to them about his findings.

And his findings were profoundly depressing. They believed that Liz had osteosarcoma, cancer of the bone, and it had already metastasized to her lungs. It explained the pain she had had in her back and hips for the past year, and the frequent breathlessness. But all of it had been attributed to her pregnancy. And instead, she had cancer. A biopsy would have to confirm it, the doctors explained, as Liz and Bernie held hands tightly, and tears rolled down their cheeks. She was still wearing the green hospital gown, as Bernie reached out and took her into his arms, and held her with a feeling of desperation.