Wife-in-Law

by Haywood Smith

  “Oh, my God,” I said, the air suddenly squeezed out of me. “Did you find a lump?”

  Kat looked at me with pleading eyes. “Please, Betsy. Can we just drop this? I’m asking you, as a friend.”

  “Okay. Sure.” It must be something terrible.

  Usually we chattered all through lunch, but this time, both of us made stilted small talk for the next half hour, wondering what was keeping our food.

  “Sorry for the delay,” our waitress explained when we asked, “but we ran out of mayonnaise, so the cook had to send for some, and the closest grocery store’s way down at Northside Parkway. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

  Of all times for us to be tied up waiting.

  Almost thirty minutes later, the waitress appeared with our chicken salad plates. “So sorry she had to make the chicken salad.”

  We ate in strained silence, not saying anything till we dove into our desserts.

  There’s nothing like sweets to break the tension. “Oh, man,” I rhapsodized as I savored that first, perfect bite of chocolate chess pie. Why is it that the point always tastes best? “For some reason, this is ten times better than usual. I wonder if they changed the recipe.”

  “I don’t know,” Kat said, “but mine’s so good, it’ll make you slap your mama.”

  Relaxing at last, we fell back into our usual easy way with each other, then both ordered an unprecedented second piece of pie for good measure, and slowly savored the carbs.

  Mine was almost gone when my lunchbox cell phone rang. “’Scuse me,” I said to Kat. “I need to take this.” I lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Callison?” a woman’s voice asked.

  “Yes.”

  “This is Dr. Richardson’s office calling with your test results.”

  Every molecule in my body vibrated in anticipation. “Oh, good.”

  “Your test was positive. Congratulations.”

  Tears of joy spilled from my eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “Dr. Richardson would like to see you in four weeks for a sonogram. Will August fifteenth at ten be all right?”

  I couldn’t stop grinning. “Yes. Fine,” I said without a thought of looking at my calendar. “Thank you.”

  “Please call us right away if you have any questions or problems,” the nurse said.

  “Of course. Thank you.” I hung up in a haze of joy.

  “You’re pregnant,” Kat said as if it was a great relief.

  She hadn’t even let me tell her, but I was too happy to get my nose out of joint. “Yeah. At long last.” I started making plans for the nursery. Cheerful, sunny yellow, with white. That would do for a boy or a girl.

  I wondered if Greg would want to know the sex.

  “How far along are you?” she asked.

  “Six weeks,” I said, even though I couldn’t be positive. Now that Greg was home, we’d resumed our five-times-a-week lovemaking schedule as if he’d never been gone.

  I could see Kat’s mathematical mind calculating. “That means you’ll be due in mid-March,” she announced.

  “I guess so.” I couldn’t wait to see the sonogram.

  “That’s good,” she said in a distracted tone. “You won’t be big in the summer.”

  “I wonder when I’ll start showing?” I thought aloud.

  “Probably not till you’re about five months,” Kat said with the oddest look, halfway between tears and a smile. “At least, that’s how it worked for everybody else we know, with their first.”

  A sob caught in her throat, and she bent her head into her arms on the table, shaking.

  All eyes turned our way as I grasped her forearm. “Kat, please tell me what’s wrong.”

  Before she could respond, her cell phone rang.

  Kat swiped her eyes, her pale lashes clumped with tears, and fumbled with the receiver. “Hullo,” she said, trying to compose herself. “Yes, it is.”

  In the silence that followed, she dissolved like a weary child up way past her bedtime. “Oh.” Shaking and teary, she hung up, then dropped back down on her arms with gulping sobs. “Damn,” she said, the hollow sound magnified by the plastic coating on the cloth. “Just damn.”

  Cancer? God, no. My heart raced like a sprinter’s at the Olympics. “Kat, what is it? You have to tell me.”

  Eyes squeezed shut, she sat up, turning her face to heaven, and wailed, “I’m f——ing pregnant!”

  Every woman in the place stopped talking and stared at us, some with outrage and some with sympathy.

  Kat’s voice dropped to a harsh, “The f——ing pills didn’t work because I was taking antibiotics!” She glared at me. “Somebody should have told me the f——ing pills don’t work when you take antibiotics!”

  A murmur rose around us in the little dining room, but Kat was too upset to care, not to mention that she’d never cared what other people thought about her, anyway, and probably never would.

  Too worried to be embarrassed, I got up and went around to give her a sidelong hug. “Oh, honey, that’s wonderful. You’ll see. It’ll be fun. We’ll be pregnant together.”

  She stilled. “Maybe not.”

  Perplexed, I held on till I realized what she meant, then let go in shock. “Oh, no, honey. This baby is a part of you and Zach, a blessing from God. It already has all it needs to be the person it’s going to be, and I know it’s going to be wonderful, with you and Zach as parents. Surely you couldn’t destroy that.”

  “Betsy, we can’t talk about this,” she snapped. “I know how you feel, but it’s my body, my decision.”

  I couldn’t keep from asking, “Why don’t you want it?”

  She turned hostile eyes my way. “For one thing, I love teaching. As for the rest, look at me. I’m a mess, with no idea what a normal family is supposed to look like. I can’t possibly be a decent mother.”

  Oh, Kat. “You’re a loving, genuine person. That’s all the requirements you need to be a good mother.” She wasn’t convinced, so I added, “Look at me. I have a terrible mother, but I turned out okay.”

  The look she shot me said the verdict was still out on that one. “Neither one of us has any idea what a good mother looks like.”

  That stung, but I couldn’t let her kill her unborn child. She’d regret it for the rest of her life. “Then give your child to somebody who does, but can’t have their own. That would make a blessing out of this for everybody.”

  Kat stood. “I mean it, Betsy. Mind your own business on this one.”

  We should have been celebrating together, not arguing. “Kat, I love you, no matter what. I just want you to consider all the alternatives before you make a decision. Please promise me you’ll talk to Zach and not do anything hasty.”

  Her expression went cold. “Of course I’ll talk to Zach. But the decision’s mine, not his. It’s my body. My life.”

  Typical left-wing women’s lib baloney. “And your baby’s,” I was compelled to add.

  Furious, Kat snatched up her phone and her purse, and stalked out.

  Damn. What should have been one of the happiest days of my life was shadowed by Kat’s dilemma.

  I prayed she would think things over and come to her senses, but she was as stubborn as she was independent.

  Composing myself, I wiped my eyes, then picked up my cell phone and dialed Greg’s office.

  “Mr. Callison’s office,” his secretary cooed.

  “This is Mrs. Callison,” I told her. “I need to speak with my husband, please.”

  “I’ll see if he’s available,” she said with a proprietary edge.

  Available? I bristled as hold music filled my ear. I never called Greg at work.

  His little bitch secretary returned. “He has a few minutes before his meeting,” she said, as if she were his keeper. “I’ll connect you.”

  Anxious, Greg skipped the amenities. “Is everything all right? Are you okay?”

  “Better than okay. You’re going to be a father in about seven and a half mo
nths.”

  A brief, stunned silence followed, then a pleased, “Honest to God?”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die,” I said with a grin.

  “I’m going to be a father,” Greg boasted. “Honey, that’s fabulous. This is the best news ever. I hope it’s a girl, just like you.”

  My chest swelled. “That’s the nicest thing anybody ever said to me. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  I heard a door open in the background, then the little bitch’s, “Time for your appointment in the conference room, Mr. Callison.”

  Greg’s voice shifted away from the receiver. “Janie, guess what? I’m going to be a father,” he bragged, God bless him. He came back on the line. “This calls for a celebration. Put on your best duds. We’re going to Pano’s and Paul’s for dinner, the works, including champagne.”

  “You can have the champagne for both of us. No drinking for me till I hold this baby in my arms.”

  “Right, right,” he said, his enthusiasm undiminished. “I’ll see you at six.”

  “With bells on,” I said. “Bye.”

  I hung up, paid the bill, and happily headed home. I got halfway there on the glow before thinking of Kat. Please, God, let her have the courage to have this baby. I know she’ll love it, if she does. Let her give it life. Even if it will mean bringing another Democrat into the world.

  Eleven

  September 30, 1984. 3265 Eden Lake Court

  Kat had been avoiding me since we both found out we were pregnant, so all I could do was wear out my knees praying that God would convict her about having an abortion. Keeping my nose out of it wasn’t easy, but I knew that badgering her would only make things worse.

  Greg had continued to play tennis with Zach, but in the way of men, he said they never talked about anything personal, yet they both considered themselves best pals. What is it about time and sports that makes men think they’re close, when they barely know what makes each other tick?

  So Greg had no news from Zach to share about what was going on across the street. Kat looked as skinny as ever, which made me worry.

  Then my doorbell rang at nine o’clock on the first October morning that held a welcome hint of fall.

  Still in my robe, I looked into the peephole and saw Kat standing there with a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts and a container of fresh vegetable soup.

  Soup definitely meant something was up.

  Hopeful, I opened the door with a smile. “Hi. Would you like some coffee to wash down a few of those doughnuts?”

  “Only if you help me eat ’em,” Kat said in good humor as she entered.

  I shut the door and headed for the kitchen. “I think I could manage that.” After all, I was eating for two.

  Kat settled to the breakfast table like old times. “I owe you an apology,” she said, her expression earnest.

  I poured our coffee, then sat beside her, placing the mugs and spoons on the tablecloth. “No you don’t. I’m just glad you’re back, no matter what.”

  She smiled in gratitude. “That means a lot to me. I’m really sorry I didn’t talk to you for so long.”

  My days had been really lonely with only Mama to talk to, or more accurately, to listen to as she complained. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

  “No, I do.” Her mouth flattened. “I was so freaked at first, and you were only trying to help. I had a lot to think through.” She gazed into her coffee, unfocused. “I love my job.” Teaching math at Oglethorpe. “And I was so scared that I’d be a terrible parent. Not like you. You’ll be a great one, I know.”

  I cradled my warm cup. “I hope so, but as you reminded me, I’m no more qualified than you are.”

  Kat winced. “Sorry about that too.”

  “Don’t be. It was the truth,” I said without resentment. “But I’m reading every book I can find on the topic, so I plan to be forearmed when the time comes.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Kat said, the unspoken hanging heavy between us.

  Please, just cut to the chase. I could hardly stand the suspense.

  She looked down, stirring sugar into her coffee. “Turns out, Zach was only saying he didn’t want children to humor me. He got so excited when I told him about the baby, and for every argument I raised against having it, he came back with one for keeping it.” One side of her mouth crooked up. “Even the fact that he works undercover.”

  Undercover?

  My mouth dropped open. “Undercover what?”

  “You’ve gotta swear you won’t breathe a word of this, even to Greg,” she warned.

  “I swear,” I said, without considering the consequences. “Undercover what?”

  Kat peered into her coffee. “Back in seventy, Greg was replacing the plumbing at what turned out to be a huge drug dealer’s place. The DEA approached him about working with them. At first, he said no. Then his best friend died of bad drugs cut with rat poison. Greg was so angry, he agreed to be an undercover agent. He was so fit and smart, he passed the agent’s requirements without any problem.” She finally looked at me. “He’s been working with them ever since.”

  “So that’s why the police chief said we didn’t have to worry about y’all!” I blurted out.

  Kat tucked her chin. “You had the police check us out?”

  “Well,” I fumbled. “Greg was really worried when y’all first moved in. He couldn’t figure out how y’all could afford the house. Worried that you might be drug dealers,” I said, “which is pretty ironic, considering what you finally just told me.”

  Kat chuckled. “That’s rich. We bought the house when Zach came into his trust fund.”

  “What trust fund?” Our favorite hippies had a trust fund? “Ten years, and you never said a word about any of this,” I scolded. “What else haven’t you told me?”

  Kat didn’t get upset. She just smiled like the Mona Lisa, then told me, “Only that I’m having this baby. And keeping it.”

  My indignation evaporated. “Oh, Kat. You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

  Her green eyes sparkled. “Oh, I think I do.”

  She looked into her coffee. “I was so stubborn. It was my body, my career. But when it came down to the end of my first trimester yesterday, I had to go through with it or risk a second trimester termination.” Her eyes welled. “Zach was so sweet. Before he went to work, he told me he’d love me just as much, no matter what I decided.” She inhaled deeply, then blew it out with force. “After he left, I realized this child is Zach’s too, and he wanted it. He’s been so good to me, so good for me, that I couldn’t deny him based on principle or my job. My decision had to be based on love.”

  Thank You, God!

  “So when it came right down to it, I couldn’t do it,” she finished.

  “Are you sorry?” I couldn’t believe I was asking. I should have reinforced her decision.

  “No. I’m at peace,” she said with conviction. “Zach is so excited, and I can go back to teaching when the baby goes to school.”

  “You could go back to your job right away, if you want,” I offered. “I’ll keep the baby while you work.”

  Kat cast a skeptical glance my way that said, And turn my child into a neurotically clean archconservative? No, thanks. “That is so generous of you,” she said warmly, “but if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right. The first few years of a child’s life are so important. I want to be there for all of it. School will come soon enough.”

  Good for Kat! I agreed a hundred percent. “So we’re gonna be pregnant together!” I got up and gave her a big hug. “I’m so excited. When’s your due date?”

  “March the third.”

  “You’re kidding! Just two weeks before mine. How wild is that?” I sat back down, facing her. “What are your plans for the nursery?”

  “We probably won’t do one,” she said. “I want the baby to sleep with us.”

  In the same bed? “What if you roll over on it, by acciden
t?” I asked in horror.

  She smiled. “We won’t. People have slept with their babies for millennia. It’s just since the Industrial Revolution in Western culture that the idea of separating a child from its mother came into vogue. Except for royalty, which we definitely are not.” She nodded. “I’ll be nursing, of course.”

  In public, probably, Lord love her.

  Not me. “I’m going with the bottle. That way, Greg and I can take turns getting a good night’s sleep.”

  Kat’s face clouded. “But nursing is so important for babies’ development and immune systems. You could still get a good night’s sleep. Greg could bring you the baby every other night, then put it back to bed.”

  Which would still leave me awake at all hours every night.

  I tested her with, “I’m using disposable diapers.”

  Kat recoiled slightly. “Cotton diapers for me, with no chlorine and no phosphate detergents.”

  How did she expect to get them clean? Surely, she wouldn’t put germy diapers on her baby!

  She must have read my face. “I’ll boil them.”

  Of all things for her to cook up in that kitchen! Poopy diapers on the stove. Gag. “Just make sure nobody thinks it’s vegetable soup,” I teased.

  Kat laughed.

  I could see this was going to be just like everything else between us. “Maybe we can get somebody to use the two of us as a case study on opposite parenting methods.”

  Kat laughed, back to her old self. “They oughta.”

  “Who are you using for a pediatrician?” I asked.

  “I found a holistic MD up in Roswell. He can take care of all of us.”

  At least he was an MD, a definite step in the right direction.

  Kat reciprocated with, “What about you?”

  “I’m using Dr. Denmark. I like her ideas about child-rearing; they’re very practical. And her patients love her.” I refrained from telling Kat that Dr. Denmark believed that babies came to live with their parents, not the other way around, so their schedules should accommodate their parents’.