“Are you coming?” he asked that morning, and she shook her head. And before he left for work, he pressed her again, and she said nothing. Bill asked him at work that morning how it went, and Andy told him tensely that Diana had gone crazy. He had no idea if she would even come to meet the surrogate, and Bill wished him luck as he hurried off to an important meeting.
Diana sat in her office at noon that day, thinking of them, and wondering what the girl looked like. And then finally, she couldn’t stand it. She called for a cab, and went downstairs. She got to the restaurant half an hour late, but they were sitting comfortably at a back table, with the woman’s husband. Andy looked startled as she walked in, and he introduced her to the Williamses, John and Wanda. They looked reasonable and sane, decently dressed, and not drugged out or stupid. Wanda was a pretty girl who talked a lot about it being important to her to do something “meaningful” for someone in her life, and John seemed not to care one way or another. As he put it, “money is money.” They were to pay for her medical care, a small amount of clothing, and loss of salary for two months, since she really couldn’t do much work then. And her “fee,” as she put it, was $25,000. She would sign a contract agreeing not to use alcohol or drugs or take undue risks, and in the hospital when the baby was born, she would turn it over to them with no problem.
“What if you decide to keep it?” Diana said bluntly. All she had ordered was a cup of coffee.
“I won’t,” she said clearly, and said something about not violating her karma. Her husband explained then that she was very involved in Eastern religions.
“She’s not that crazy about kids,” her husband added after that. “She never wanted to keep the last one.”
“And what about you?” Diana asked him. “How do you feel about your wife being pregnant with my husband’s sperm?”
“I figure he wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t have to,” he looked pointedly at her and Diana felt the arrow to her heart instantly, but she never wavered. “I don’t know, I figure this is her thing. It’s what she wants to do.” Diana had an underlying feeling that they were both crazy, but there was certainly nothing visibly “wrong” with them. It’s just that the whole project seemed so awful.
They left it all hanging after lunch, and Andy said he’d call them in the next few days after he and Diana discussed it further. “I do have another candidate to interview,” Wanda explained. “I’m seeing him tomorrow.”
“She only does this for people she really likes,” her husband offered, looking accusingly at Diana. Clearly, she hadn’t been “nice” enough, and could well have put the whole project in danger. It made Diana feel hysterical to think she was being “interviewed” by these fruitcakes.
They left before the Douglases did, and Diana sat staring angrily at her husband. “How could you do this to us?”
“Why were you so rude to him, asking how he felt about my sperm? For chrissake, Diana, they may reject us.”
“Oh.” She leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes in anger. “I don’t believe this. She’s sitting here telling you about her karma, and you want her to have your baby. I think the whole thing is sleazy. And so was her husband.”
“I’m going to call Dr. Johnston and see how we’d do this.”
“I don’t want any part of what you’re doing. I just want you to know that,” she said clearly.
“That’s up to you. I’m not asking you to put a dime into this.” She knew he’d have to borrow the money from his parents, and she wondered how he was going to explain it.
“I think you’re sick. And I think it’s pathetic, the lengths people like us will go to have a baby.” But there was one much simpler solution, and as she sat there she knew she should have done it much sooner. She stood up and looked at him and shook her head and walked out of the restaurant. There was a cab waiting outside and she got into it, and gave him her home address. And by the time Andy got out of the restaurant, after paying the tab, she was gone. And so were all her things when he got home from work that night. She was gone. For good. She had left him a note on the kitchen table.
“Dear Andy … I should have done this months ago. I’m sorry. This is all so stupid now. You don’t need a surrogate. You need a wife … a real one … who can have a baby. Good luck. I love you. I’ll have my lawyer call you. Love, Diana.” He stood staring at the piece of blue paper in his hand, and he felt terrified and numb. He couldn’t believe she’d done it.
He called her parents that night, casually, to see if she’d gone home, but his general inquiries told him she hadn’t. Her mother suspected instantly that something was wrong, but she didn’t want to ask. They hadn’t seen Diana since her outburst at Thanksgiving, even though they spoke to her regularly on the phone, and her father had had a long talk with her only that weekend.
In the end, Diana had gone to a hotel. And that weekend, she rented a place to live. There was no point kidding herself anymore. It was insane. The lunch at The Ivy had told her everything she needed to know, how desperate they were, how irrational, how foolish. It was ridiculous for Andy to be thinking of impregnating that girl. What in hell was he doing?
Andy called Diana every day at work, and she wouldn’t take his calls. And when he showed up, she refused to see him. The dream had come to an end, and the nightmare along with it. For Diana and Andy, it was over.
“Okay,” Pilar said with a hesitant smile, “here we go again.” She flicked on the video, and two women began licking each other’s genitals, as Brad looked at her with a sheepish grin, feeling incredibly foolish.
“I’m not so sure about your choice of movies.” “Oh, shut up.” She laughed. She was trying hard to be a good sport again, but Dr. Ward had reassured them that it could take as many as ten or twelve tries to get pregnant again, and even then she might lose it. They were going to try progesterone suppositories this time, for three months, if she did get pregnant. But there were no guarantees, she told them. And every minute of every day, Pilar was not getting any younger.
Slowly, she peeled away Brad’s clothes, as he watched the film, and stripped off her own, gently rubbing his erection, and in a very short time, they had the desired semen. The nurse took it away and Pilar couldn’t help teasing him.
“We’ll have to buy that one to watch at home. I think you liked it.”
This was not an easy road they had chosen. The artificial insemination went smoothly again this time, and Dr. Ward warned them again that it was highly unlikely it would take on the first try. Pilar was back on clomiphene again, which made her extremely nervous and seemed to depress her further. It was a hard time for her, and she wondered if she would ever recover from the miscarriage. She thought about it all the time, and even when the pain seemed to ebb, something would inadvertently start it off again, seeing someone carrying a child in their arms, or a pregnant woman, or seeing baby clothes in a window, or if they hadn’t heard about the miscarriage, friends congratulating her for being pregnant. She knew now only too well how foolish it had been to tell people so early that she was pregnant. It would take months to tell everyone now that she wasn’t. And each time she had to explain, they told her how sorry they were, or asked incredibly unfeeling questions, like whether or not she’d been able to see if it was a boy or a girl, or how big it was when she lost it.
Brad took her shopping that day to cheer her up, and they stayed at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. It was nice being away with him, and he tried to turn it into a festive occasion. The next day was Valentine’s Day, and when they got to the hotel, he had sent her two dozen red roses.
To my love, always, Brad, the card said, and she cried when she read it. She had begun wondering lately if she was foolish to want more than this, maybe it was wrong, and just too greedy. Maybe she had been right all along. Maybe having a baby just wasn’t all that important. It was hard to give up the dream of it now, but she was really beginning to think that she was misguided to pursue this. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, and s
he had to let go of the idea of having children. She said as much to Brad that night, that she was exploring her own thoughts on the subject.
“Why don’t we see what happens for a while? And if it makes you too unhappy, we’ll stop. It’s up to you.”
“You are too good to me,” she said, and clung to him, still hurting, but grateful for his presence.
They rented an erotic movie and watched it on the video, and they both laughed, and ate the chocolates provided by the hotel. “You know, these could become a habit,” Brad said, grinning at her.
“The chocolates?” she asked, feigning innocence, and he laughed.
“No, the movies!”
They made love when the movie was over, and then drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, still not sure of the answers.
On Valentine’s Day, Charlie went to buy flowers for the woman at work who helped do his reports for him. She was an enormous woman, with a big heart. He bought her pink and red carnations with baby’s breath, and she threw her arms around him and cried, she was so touched when he gave them to her. He was such a nice boy, and poor kid, she knew he was getting divorced, and sometimes he looked pretty lonely.
At lunch, he went and bought himself a sandwich and took himself to Palms Park near Westwood Village, where he could watch old people stroll, and lovers kiss, and children playing. He liked going there sometimes, just to watch the kids.
He noticed one little girl with long blond braids, big blue eyes, and a cute smile, and he laughed as he watched her playing with her mother. She played tag and hopscotch and jump rope and jacks, and her mother was almost as pretty as she was. She was a tiny little blond, with long straight hair and big blue eyes, and a childlike figure.
Eventually they played catch, and neither of them could throw or catch the ball. Charlie was still watching them and smiling long after he had finished his sandwich. And suddenly, he was startled when one of their wild throws hit him. He took the ball back to them and they thanked him. And as she did, the little girl looked up at him and grinned. All her front teeth were missing.
“My goodness, who knocked out your teeth?” Charlie asked her.
“The tooth fairy did. And then she paid me a dollar for each one. I got eight dollars,” she said, still grinning.
“That’s a lot of money.” Charlie looked vastly impressed, and the little girl’s mother smiled at him. She looked just like the child, except for the missing teeth, which Charlie mentioned. And the young woman laughed.
“Yeah, I guess I’m lucky the tooth fairy didn’t kick mine out too. Mine might have been a little more expensive.” In point of fact, she was grateful that her husband hadn’t knocked them out before he left her. But she didn’t mention that to Charlie.
“I’m gonna buy my mom a present with the money,” the little girl announced, and then asked him if he’d like to join them. He hesitated, but only for a moment, not wanting to annoy her mother.
“Okay. But I’m not a great ball thrower either. By the way, my name is Charlie.”
“I’m Annabelle,” the little girl announced, “but everyone calls me Annie.”
“I’m Beth,” her mother said quietly, looking Charlie over carefully. She seemed cautious, but friendly.
They had a good game of catch, and then hopscotch again before Charlie had to go back to work, reluctantly, to sell textiles.
“See you again sometime,” he said as he left them, knowing that he probably wouldn’t. He hadn’t asked for their number or their names. He liked them both, but he had no interest in pursuing an unknown woman and her child. He hadn’t had a date since Barbie left and he didn’t want one, and he figured she was probably married anyway. But she sure was cute.
“Bye, Charlie!” Annie waved as he left the park. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”
“Thanks,” he called back, and left them, feeling good. There was something about them that brightened up his whole day, even long after he left them.
It took Andy almost a month to find out where she lived. And at first, once he got the address, he wasn’t sure what to do with the information. Her attorney had told him, in no uncertain terms, that Mrs. Douglas was through with the marriage. It had been eighteen months and a lot of tears, and she didn’t even want to see Andy again. She wished him well, but she had made it very clear that it was over.
He had continued to call her at work several times after that, and she still wouldn’t take his calls. And all he could think of was that stupid lunch with the surrogate and her husband. That was where it had ended. What a pathetic way to end a marriage. They were ridiculous, both of them … the “sperm seekers”… looking desperately for babies. He didn’t care anymore if he never had a kid. All he wanted in his life was Diana.
And then, inadvertently, when he ran into Seamus and Sam, they told him where she was living. She had rented an old cottage in Malibu, and she was living on the beach. It was one of the first places they had looked before they were married. And he knew how much she loved the ocean.
He got the address from them by telling them he needed to drop off some of her things. And they said how sorry they were about what had happened.
“It was a lot of stupidity and bad luck,” Andy explained sadly. “She got the bad luck, and I was the moron.”
“Maybe she’ll get over it,” Sam said softly. She looked as though she were about to have her baby any minute, and in fact she and Seamus were on their way to the doctor for a checkup. For an instant, Andy felt jealous of them, and then he reminded himself that that was still not an option.
For two days, he mulled over what to do with the information they’d given him. If he just dropped by, she wouldn’t let him in, or maybe he could hang out on the beach waiting for her to go out and get some air, but what if she didn’t? And then on Valentine’s Day, he decided the hell with it, he bought her a dozen roses and drove to Malibu, praying that she’d be there, but she wasn’t. He lay the roses down carefully on the front steps, with a note. It didn’t say much, just “I love you, Andy,” and then got back in his car, and just as he did, she drove up. But she didn’t get out of her car when she saw him.
He got out of his, and went over to talk to her, and reluctantly, she rolled down her window.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” she said firmly, trying not to look at him. She looked thinner and more beautiful than he remembered her. She was wearing a black dress and she looked sexy and elegant as she got out of the car, and stood near it, as though she needed it for protection. “Why did you come?” She had noticed the flowers on the doorstep and didn’t know if they were from him. But if they were, she didn’t want them. She was through torturing herself and she wanted him to be too. They had to let go now.
“I wanted to see you,” he said sadly, looking like the boy she had married, only better. He was handsome and young and blond and thirty-four years old, and he still loved her.
“Didn’t my lawyer tell you what I said?”
“Yeah. But I never listen to attorneys.” He grinned, and she smiled in spite of herself. “In fact, I never listen to anyone. Maybe you know that.”
“Maybe you should. It might do you a lot of good. You could save yourself a lot of headaches.”
“Really? How?” He feigned innocence, he was just so happy to see her. He wanted to keep her there talking, so he could be near her. And even in the sea breeze, he could smell her perfume. She wore Calèche, by Hermes, and he had always loved it.
“You could stop banging your head into walls, for one thing,” she said gently, telling herself she wasn’t affected by him. This was the test, being near him and not giving in to him.
“I love banging my head into walls,” he said softly.
“Well, don’t. There’s no point anymore, Andy.”
“I brought you some flowers,” he said, not sure what else to say. And he didn’t want to leave her.
“You shouldn’t have done that either,” she said sadly. “You’ve really got to stop now. In
five months you’ll be free, and you can have a whole new life without me.”
“I don’t want that.”
“We both do,” she said firmly.
“Don’t tell me what I want,” he snapped at her. “I want you, dammit. That’s what I want. I don’t want some stupid fucking surrogate, I can’t believe how dumb all that was.… I don’t even want a baby. I never want to hear the word again. All I want is you … Di … Please give us another chance … please … I love you so much …” He wanted to tell her that he couldn’t live without her, but the tears in his throat stopped him.
“I don’t want a baby either.” She was lying, and they both knew it. If someone could have waved a magic wand over her at that exact moment and made her pregnant, she would have grabbed the opportunity in a second. But she could no longer allow herself to think that. “I don’t want to be married. I have no right to be,” she said, trying to sound convincing. She had almost come to believe it.
“Why? Because you can’t get pregnant? So what? Don’t be so stupid. You think only fertile people are allowed to get married anymore? That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard of.”
“They should marry people like themselves, so no one gets hurt.”
“What a great idea! Why didn’t I think of that? Oh, for chrissake, Di, grow up. We got a rotten break, but it’s not the end of the world. We can still make it.”
“We didn’t get a rotten break,” she corrected him, “I did.”
“Yeah, and I ran around like a lunatic interviewing Buddhist starlets as surrogate mothers. Okay, so we both went a little insane. So what? It was tough. It was brutal, in fact. It was the worst thing I hope I ever live through. But that part of it is over. Now we have the rest of our lives to live. You can’t just give up on us because we got a little crazy.”
“I don’t want craziness anymore,” she said, and she meant it. “There’s a lot of things I won’t do to myself anymore, things I used to think I ‘had to.’ I don’t go to baby showers, or christenings, or hospitals when babies are born. Sam had her baby yesterday and I called and told her I’m not going. And you know what? It’s okay. It’s what I have to do to survive these days, and maybe one day I’ll be able to handle it, and if I can’t, then that’s tough, but that’s the way it is. I’m not going to make myself uncomfortable anymore or miserable, or be married to someone who should be having kids and isn’t because I’m his wife and I’m sterile. And I’m not going to drive myself buggy with surrogates, or donor eggs. Fuck all that shit, Andy. I’m not doing that to myself anymore. I’m just going to live my life, and get on with it. I’ve got my work. There are other things in life than children and marriage.”
Mixed Blessings Page 24
