In what is one of the toughest things a parent can say to their child who lives across the country, Donald said, “You need to stay here until the baby is born. You can't just up and leave when the delivery is only, what, a month away?”
“Actually, it's closer to two months, but Diana doesn't need me around. She has someone new.”
“But he isn't the biological father. Like it or not, this baby is going to be significantly like you. You need to be around for support.”
“Diana has way more money than me. She doesn't need any support.”
“I'm not talking about money. What I mean is this child may have the same interests or personality you had when you were young. So who is better than you to make their childhood a happy one? You remember that time we took you to see Pink Floyd?”
“Yeah, that was probably the best concert of my life.”
“That was your mom's idea. She knew you would love it because she loved it. Yes, your proud father will admit you got your personality, and, I'm sad to say, most of your looks from your mother, but stuff like that is why you need to be in this child's life. They'll get structure and discipline from Diana, but they'll get creativity from you. Inside Diana's stomach, there might be a future great artist.”
“Don't say that.”
“Fine, I'm sorry. Inside Diana's stomach, there might be a sculptor or a painter or, God willing, a future senator.”
Cale had never thought about it before, but the thought of his child involved in the arts was an exciting possibility. It could be someone who thought like him, who would approach art the same way, but with their own unique life experiences, their art would be completely different, yet familiar at the same time.
Sculpting, or any creative pursuit for that matter, depends largely on life experiences. Characters are modeled after memorable friends, songs are written about great loves, movies scripted over wild nights. That's why interesting people make the best art. Their life blankets the canvas.
With that outlook, Cale felt the urge to be in the baby's life. To take custody on weekends or every other day or whatever he could work out with Diana. But now a new problem presented itself - Diana. How could he approach her when even the simple act of sending her a text felt harrowing? It wasn't a good harrow either. No, this was the type of harrow that resulted in a million different excuses in order to hold off the act. A harrow that prevented grown men from seeing their child.
The Young family den was silent except for the occasional sound of a pen on paper. It was father-daughter competitive crossword time.
Benjamin, in his usual cardigan and flannel sat and stared at his daughter. He had given up trying to fill in the blanks a few minutes earlier while Diana continued to furiously scribble down answers.
“Diana, can I ask you something?”
“One second, Daddy,” Diana said without looking up. After solving a few more lines, she put her pen down and announced, “Well I'm done. I hate these questions that depend on another answer. Based off eleven across... what does that even mean? So what did you want to ask me?”
“What's your plan for Cale and the baby?”
It was a question Diana often thought about. “I don't know, Daddy. I've tried to reach out to him, but he won't return my calls.”
“So things ended badly?”
“It was more sad than anything else. I can still picture him walking out without raising his head or saying a word.”
“Cale's a good guy. I'm sure he'll come around eventually.”
“Well when he's ready, he knows where to find me.”
“Also honey, one other thing. It's about Andrew. I know a cardiologist is a pretty demanding profession. Between your two schedules, will you have time for each other and the baby?”
This also was something Diana had questioned since the breakup. Andrew was always at the hospital, and when he wasn't, then she was at the office or in court. Most of their dinners took place in restaurants. Most of their conversations over the phone. And discreetly enough, most of their sex in their offices.
Still though, Diana had faith, not to mention determination. “Andrew is on call almost every day and I have, well, my thing, but we'll figure out a way to make it work.”
The sound of footsteps came from the hallway and Andrew's voice followed. “Hopefully I can cut back on the time I'm at the hospital,” he said as he entered the den. “Sorry, didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I've been asked to tell you guys that dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”
“Wow, that was quick. We might as well go before the yelling starts,” Diana said as Andrew approached their table.
As they got up to leave, Andrew looked down onto the crossword and said, “Do you guys mind if I work on this with you after dinner?”
Benjamin answered “Go right ahead. I think we've figured out everything we can.”
You could say there is a linear relationship between an exes' happiness and your misery, especially when it was them who ended the relationship. To put it in a rudimentary graph, it looks something like this:
What the hell, to take it one step further, here's the same graph with an extra line showing what happens when the ex is dating someone new:
Even if you wish the best for them, to witness their happiness after they kicked you out of their life is almost too much to handle. For their happiness should be your happiness as well, but it's not. It's nothing but a reminder that their life is so much better without you in it.
This is precisely why Cale could not see Diana.
“Here's what you need to do,” Donald said as he leaned forward as if to convey a deep secret to his son. “Take your phone and call her. Alright? Can you do that? Now, when she picks up...” Donald gave a dramatic pause before continuing, “I want you to get her back. That's it. Simple and easy.”
“That could be the dumbest advice you've ever given. Where's the flowers? Or showing up at her doorstep singing? Or writing hundreds of love letters? Anything more romantic than what you just said.”
Donald laughed. “In this situation, simple is all you need.”
Cale ran his Dad's advice through his head, and found it too daunting to enact. To press the call button on his phone might as well have been pressing the President's big red button45.
“I can't do it.”
His voice rising, Donald said, “You can and you will. I like to think I did a pretty good job raising you, and no son of mine will be afraid to call a woman.”
It was the 'no son of mine' part that validated Cale's earlier embarrassment. All he could respond with was, “I'm sorry.”
They sat in a silence for ten seconds that felt like ten minutes, but then Donald started to laugh and shake his head toward the ground.
“What's so funny?”
“I can't believe I never realized this sooner. My son is in love with a woman.”
“You're wrong. She was just something to take my mind off the sculptures.”
“Oh that's nonsense. If she was just some random woman, then you wouldn't have a problem calling her.” Donald paused for a second to think. “This is good though, it reminds me of your mom and I when we first started to date.”
“What?”
Donald leaned in close and softly said, “You want to hear something that will shock you? Your mother was the only woman I've ever met that terrified me. I mean just flat out shaky knees. Up till then, I never had a problem talking to women, but your mother was different. It was so bad, I prepared talking points on note cards for our first couple of dates because she made me brainless. Fear is a good thing in young love.”
“How does this relate to me?”
“Because you need to go get her back. You know, I bet she doesn't even realize you feel this way about her.”
It occurred to Cale that maybe Diana didn't realize how he really felt, and if he told her, then she would see what a mistake she made. The only time he ever said he loved her was when he was wasted, and according to the laws of alcohol and
dating, that doesn't count. The thought gave a +1 to his confidence, and combined with the painkillers the hospital provided, he inched ever so closer to being able to make contact.
On the Young family patio, dinner had officially started and the members were at their assigned places around the table. Well, everyone was there except for Jack who was still in his room in protest. As was customary, the food was forcefully mixed with politics, society's problems, and criticism of each other which left everyone bitter, yet full.
In between the democrats, republicans, blacks, browns, and 'the ways things used to be', the topic of conversation was Caitlyn and Jimmy's wedding.
“And I want a stretch Mercedes CL, and we'll have to make a list of songs for the DJ. There better not be Journey or U2 this time.” Caitlyn said as she ran down the checklist for her third 'special day.' “Oh, and Mom, if Jack is gonna be acting all weird, tell him he can stay home because I don't want him there.”
Terri was astonished. “Caitlyn! He's your brother. Of course he's going to be there. This wedding is for the whole family.”
The more they talked about the wedding, the more something stirred in Diana. Well, make that two things stirring. The first was the baby who was somersaulting without any concern for Diana's comfort. The second stirring thing was just as alive and broadly defined as the baby, but it required critical thinking rather than a placenta to survive and grow into something truly identifiable.
With all the wedding talk, Popa needed to chime in. “Third wedding, I tell you what. You outta go down to the courthouse. Get it taken care of there.”
“We're not doing that, Popa. You think I would ever get married in a courthouse? Only trashy people do that.” Caitlyn said as her collagen infused lips jiggled.
In Diana's head, two gears connected and started to turn while the rest of her family continued to argue.
I won't be married by the time the baby comes.
“25,000 dollars! For a Goddamn...”
“Vick!”
“Are you listening to this Terri!? 25,000 dollars for a wedding! Do you have any idea how much of a waste of money that is?”
“It's worth it!” Caitlyn yelled. “That's it! No more from either of you!”
Uncle Vick wouldn't back down to Caitlyn's threat. “All I want to know is, what are you gonna get from this wedding? The amount you're spending could be used for a car, or a down-payment on a house, or if you really feel like you have to spend this money all at once on something, how about a ridiculous vacation? You're turning all that down just for a few hours of partying?”
“Everyone needs to see how much we're in love!”
A third gear joined the other two in the great machine of Diana's idea.
I need Andrew around though, I can't raise the baby on my own.
Jimmy took a brave step into the conversation. “We can't show everyone we're in love for free?”
Caitlyn responded, “Absolutely not! Alright, everyone listen up! This is what people do! They don't go to the courthouse and they don't care how much a wedding costs! Everyone is already hired, the church is booked, I am having my day!”
“Babe, all I'm saying is that our wedding... it's not a big deal.”
It's not a big deal.
Jimmy might as well have spoken those words to Diana, for it was exactly what caused the final gear to snap into place. That was it. Three words, one contraction, a single letter, and a period repeated over and over in her head.
How would marriage change her life? She was experienced enough to know that she would keep her assets separate, so to the state, she would still be single. She was proud enough to keep her last name, so to the public, she would still be single. Plus, she was irreligious, so to God, she was non-existent. What was the reason for marriage then?46
The importance Diana had placed on getting married far outweighed how crucial marriage actually was for her life. Marriage was always something she felt she should have, but never thought about why. Now she knew. There was no answer for why. It's the question very few people ever think about, for if they did, they might come to the same conclusion as Diana. A conclusion, which repeated in Diana's head.
It's not a big deal.
Donald Dawkins placed his utensils and napkin in the now empty Styrofoam box. The meal, like his visit with Cale, was at an end.
“Well,” Donald said, followed by a long pause. “I suppose I should be going.”
“You don't want to stay the weekend?”
“I can't. The generals are just starting. You know how it is in election years.” Donald said and stood up. “Let me know how things go with Diana. I don't want to miss out on my grandchild's birth because you were afraid to talk to your great love.”
With the first smile he had all day, Cale said, “Please don't call her that.”
Donald shrugged his shoulders. “Alright alright, fair enough. Take it easy on the drinking too. I know I'm not the most credible person to tell you that, but you have people to live for.”
“You got it.”
“That's my boy,” Donald said as he walked over and grabbed Cale's hand in a half handshake, half high five. It was as close as they would get to a hug, and served its purpose just fine.
As Donald walked out the door, he told Cale, “God's speed,” and then was gone, stopping only once to say goodbye to the nurse.
Alone in the hospital, Cale closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.
YOU SUCK
Since moving into her new house, 100% of Diana's screams, shouts, and cries occurred during sex, so the echo that had always existed was never noticed. She never heard the uhhhs, ohhhs, and ahhhs come back while cumming. It would take frustration, not ecstasy, to make the echo known.
In what became a daily exercise in the Professional Relationship of Professionals, Diana was on the phone with Andrew trying to arrange a time when they could see each other. So far, every possible date was bad. There was a meeting, or an appointment, or a million other work related things that demanded their time.
“I'm sorry, Diana, the hospital has me on call through the night, and the practice has a quarterly shareholder's meeting tomorrow at two tomorrow. Then there's my dictation too. I probably won't be able to get out until five at the earliest. How about I see you for lunch tomorrow?”
“I have a prenatal exam at noon, then a case review for some trust-funder who got a DUI. Why can't you be here now?” Diana pleaded.
'Be here now' reverberated off the walls, and back to Diana as she thought about what was worse – dealing with a twenty something Trustnafarian47, or getting cold steel jammed into her vagina. She wasn't able to put that answer into words, but to speak for her, a variation of a biblical saying applied perfectly. Instead of, it is easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into the kingdom of God, Diana's version was, it is easier for a frigid speculum to get through the lips of the vulva than for a pregnant lawyer to get information from a stoner.
“Why don't you reschedule your exam?” Andrew asked. As a doctor, he should've realized the foolishness of this request.
“Why should I reschedule? It'll only delay it one more day, and then I'll have to turn around and come back two weeks later anyway. I practically live at Lincoln's office as it is.”
“You know, Diana, maybe it's about time you cut back on work...”
Line. Destroyed. Annihilated. Ripped to pieces and burnt to ashes.
“Oh, don't lecture me on cutting back at work. The last time I checked, I've been doing fifty hours a week while you've been closer to eighty. The way I see it, you should be cutting back, not me.”
Andrew began to speak while 'not me' hollowly repeated throughout the house. “You know I can't do that. Think about it, Diana, your due date is only a month or so away, but you still work more than everyone else there. That's too much, especially since your job entails getting rich people out of problems. I'm working to save lives. There's no way I can take time off.
These people need me.”
Line. Pissed on.
“So that's it!? Because your job is more important, that justifies you spending all your time at the hospital? So until you retire... oh, who am I kidding, you'll be at that hospital until you die.”
“Diana, calm down. You don't have to be upset.”
Andrew was wrong. Upset was the only thing Diana could be. She was achy, stiff, and her back felt like an accordion every time she stood. She was alone, and cold, and at that moment, every word she spoke had a ghostly repetition that reminded her that no one else was there.
“The last time I saw you was at my parent's, and that was what, six days ago!? Andrew, there has to be some sacrifices from both of us if we're gonna make this work. I hate this. I hate going to sleep by myself every night. I hate... this sucks.”
“Alright, I'll see what I can do, but you really need to consider going to part time, Diana.”
The way Andrew said that, Diana knew his sacrifice would mean he would spend the night more often, while her sacrifice would be a complete overhaul of her defining activity, her job.
“Diana? Are you still there?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“Listen, I have to go see some patients, but I'll call later tonight. It would be great if you could reschedule your appointment tomorrow. I really want to see you.”
“It's been six days, Andrew.”
“I know. Things will get better. I promise. I love you.”
“Love you, too.” Diana responded as if on auto-pilot. That was their first exchange of 'I love you's', and it was as good as a synonym for 'bye'.
Diana set the phone down, looked around her big, lifeless house, and let out a sigh. Less than a second later, the sigh echoed back.
The bus ride across town was a piece of cake, as was the short walk to Diana's house, but as Cale stood in front of the house that they chose together, the enormity of everything finally hit. In his confident high, Cale never considered the house.
A Pact For Life Page 22
