The Harder They Fall

by Doreen Owens Malek

  “You’re not going to give up on him, are you?” Maria asked, alarmed at her tone.

  “I haven’t made any decisions. I don’t know how I can live like this, but when I think of life without him...” She let the sentence trail off into silence.

  “Wait until he gets back. You’ll make it up with him.”

  Helene was silent. She wasn’t so sure.

  * * * *

  The pains began on Wednesday, the afternoon before Chris was due to return. Maria was polishing silverware in the kitchen when she heard Helene calling her from the bedroom.

  “What is it?” she responded breathlessly, her expression changing when reached the doorway and saw Helene doubled up on the bed.

  “Call the doctor. Something is wrong,” Helene gasped. “I have such terrible cramps and there’s blood....”

  Maria flew to the phone and returned minutes later to cover Helene with a blanket and grab her hand.

  “Hold on,” Maria said soothingly. “The ambulance is on the way. Dr. Stern is going to meet us at the hospital. Just try to take it easy, try to relax.

  “I can’t lose the baby,” Helene moaned.

  “No, no, none of that,” Maria shushed her. “Don’t talk, don’t even think. Conserve your strength.”

  Then they both heard the wail of the siren coming up the drive.

  * * * *

  The first person Helene saw when she opened her eyes was Dr. Stern. She knew by the expression on his face what had happened.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered and turned away from him, her eyes filling with tears.

  He patted her hand. “These things happen, especially with a first baby,” he said. “It may not mean much to you now, but I promise you that you can have other children and you can start trying as soon as you recover.”

  “My fault,” she moaned.

  “Now I don’t want to hear that,” he said firmly. “You did nothing wrong. I was worried about this pregnancy all along—you know that. But each one is different and next time you may have no trouble at all.”

  Next time, Helene thought in a drugged daze. What was he talking about? What next time?

  Maria’s worried face appeared in the background. “Just a few minutes. She needs to rest,” Dr. Stern said warningly and nodded at the hovering nurse to make sure she enforced his orders.

  “Pobre niña,” Maria said, sitting next to her bed.

  “Chris,” Helene murmured.

  “What about him?”

  “Does he know?”

  Maria hesitated, then shook her head. “I haven’t talked to him. He hasn’t called the house. He’s supposed to be back today, isn’t he?”

  “Is it Thursday?”

  Maria nodded.

  “Yes, today.”

  “Do you want me to tell him?”

  Helene closed her eyes and two tears seeped from under her lids and trailed slowly down her cheeks.

  “I guess you might as well,” she mumbled finally.

  “I think that’s enough,” the nurse said sternly.

  Maria rose to go. “I’ll be back tonight,” she said in parting.

  Helene nodded and closed her eyes again, glad to return to the oblivion of sleep.

  * * * *

  When Helene woke again it was Friday and she felt clearheaded for the first time since she had lost the baby.

  “Oh, you’re awake,” a different nurse said. “Too bad you missed your husband. You were asleep when he was here.”

  “When was that?”

  “Last night. He came in as soon as he heard what happened. He was away, wasn’t he?”

  Helene nodded wordlessly.

  The nurse lowered her tone. “Very broken up he was, too. The doctor sent him home because he was afraid he would upset you.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Helene said tonelessly.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Nothing matters.”

  “Oh, here’s your friend,” the nurse said brightly, glad of an excuse to escape Helene’s depressing presence.

  Maria sat next to the bed and waited until the nurse had left before she said, “I told him.”

  Helene looked at her.

  “He was wild, niña. I’ve never seen him like that. Crying, blaming himself.”

  “There’s a lot of that going around.”

  “He thinks all of this is his fault because of the fight.”

  “I had the miscarriage four days after he left, Maria. Even he can’t be in two places at the same time.”

  “Try to tell him that. Dr. Stern finally threw him out and told him to go home. He wouldn’t leave until the doctor threatened to call the police. We had quite a time with him, I can tell you.” Her voice dropped. “He’s been forbidden to return.”

  Helene said nothing. She supposed they were fortunate that Chris stopped short of destroying the hospital. She was glad she’d missed the confrontation. She’d had her fill of those for a while.

  “Maria, will you do me a favor?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Maria said.

  “Pack me a bag to take with me when I’m discharged. I’m going straight back to New Jersey. You can send the rest of my things on after me.”

  There was a protracted silence while Maria debated what to say. She didn’t wanted to argue with a hospitalized woman, but it was clear that she disagreed with Helene’s decision.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” Maria ventured finally, abandoning neutrality.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not even going to see him?”

  “What’s the point?”

  “Are you trying to punish him, Helene?” Maria asked. “It’s not necessary, you know. He’s doing a good job of punishing himself. You can take my word for that.”

  “I can’t see him, Maria. I’ve already lost too much. The baby’s gone...” she dissolved into silent tears and it was a long moment before she could add “... and seeing Chris would just remind me.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of how much I love him and how hopeless it all is.”

  “He’d come here in a minute, no matter what Dr. Stern says, if he thought you wanted to see him.”

  Helene shook her head, unable to speak.

  “All right,” Maria said soothingly. “Don’t cry. I’ll do as you say, don’t worry.”

  “I have no strength left,” Helene managed to whisper, wiping her eyes helplessly.

  “You’ll get it back.”

  “I won’t get my baby back.”

  Maria patted her hand, tears welling up in her own eyes.

  “Or Chris,” Helene added mournfully.

  “Oh, niña, you can have him.”

  Helene shook her head. “I can’t, I never did. It was a dream. I’m awake now.”

  Maria didn’t know what to say.

  “When are they discharging me?” Helene asked.

  “Dr. Stern says day after tomorrow.”

  “So you’ll bring me the bag then?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll arrange for a flight and a taxi as soon as they get me a phone. The nurse said she had ordered one for me, but everything takes an eternity here.”

  “I’ll go and check on it,” Maria said and walked out of the room to the nurses’ station.

  * * * *

  Chris was waiting anxiously in the kitchen when Maria came through the back door at the Homestead.

  Maria looked at him and shook her head.

  Chris closed his eyes and hung his head. “I knew it. She won’t see me.”

  “No.”

  “She blames me,” he said tonelessly.

  “No, Chris, she’s just...exhausted. You can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a child. The feeling of emptiness is just overwhelming. I had two miscarriages and I’ve never forgotten that feeling. You get over it, but you never, ever forget.”

  “It’s me,” he said, his voice breaking. He slumped back against the wall, his eyes still closed. “I upset her by picking t
hat fight and then running out on her, she knows that. That’s why she had the miscarriage. She won’t forgive me.”

  “Please, stop this,” Maria said sharply, setting her purse on the kitchen table. “I’m so tired of listening to the both of you tearing at your wounds.”

  “When is she getting out of the hospital?”

  “Soon, but...”

  “What?” he said, his eyes flying open, alarmed at the change in her voice.

  “She’s going right back to New Jersey.”

  “She doesn’t want to see me ever again?” he said, trying to absorb the enormity of it.

  “Don’t be silly, just not this minute. In time she will realize that this isn’t the end of the world. She can have other babies...”

  “Not my babies,” he said huskily. “She wouldn’t want my babies, not now.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I know,” he insisted miserably. “Oh, God, if I could just take it all back.”

  “It wouldn’t make any difference, Chris. Things like this are out of our hands.”

  “She’ll divorce me now,” he said hopelessly.

  Maria said nothing. She knew that Helene loved Chris, but in her current frame of mind she might do just that.

  “Let me make you some dinner,” Maria suggested, to change the subject.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You haven’t eaten a meal since this happened. You’ll have something now,” Maria said firmly, putting on her apron. “Sit down there and I’ll get you an omelet, at least.”

  He obeyed woodenly, as if too dispirited to argue.

  Maria bustled around the kitchen, falling into her familiar routine, providing the only comfort she could offer.

  When she looked back at him he was sitting with his head buried in his folded arms.

  * * * *

  Helene looked around at the furniture in her apartment. Everything seemed unreal—the furniture preserved under a light layer of dust, the plants, watered by a neighbor, already drooping after a thirst of several days. The plane flight had passed in a blur of plastic snacks and her stewardess’ inquiries. She hardly remembered it or the ride back to her place. She had called Maria and her mother upon arrival and now there was nothing left to do but sprawl on her bed, so long unused, and contemplate her dubious future.

  Maybe she could go back to work full time in January. It would help to have something to do. The months stretched ahead of her like an endless empty canvas: no baby, no Christopher, no job. She felt the tears beginning again and forced them back with an effort of will. No more crying. She had done enough of that for a lifetime.

  She got up on slightly wobbly legs and went into her tiny kitchenette to make a cup of tea.

  * * * *

  As soon as Helene felt up to it, about a month after her return to New Jersey, she went to Martin’s former law partner, Jim Kerry, to talk to him about the divorce. She told him she wanted nothing except a final decree, but once he wrote to Brockman the answer came back that Chris insisted upon contributing alimony.

  Helene heard this response with a mental sigh. She should have remembered his pride; he would not let her get away without this reminder of their time together.

  “I don’t want it,” she said to Kerry, as they sat in his office one day in late October.

  “Well, your husband is being difficult and if you fight him on this it could delay the whole proceeding. My understanding was that you wanted this over with as quickly as possible.”

  Helene heard the warning in his voice. “What do you suggest?” she said wearily.

  “First, I always tell a woman in your situation to take the money—you never know what the future might hold. It’s just sound advice, legally. Second, I think you should meet with your husband to talk this over. It would be easier to work out the terms face-to-face instead of trying to do it through the mail.”

  “No,” she said.

  “No?” Kerry echoed, one eyebrow raised. “Is there some animosity involved? Are you afraid of him?”

  Not in the way you mean, Helene thought. “No,” she said aloud, “that’s not it.”

  “I had understood that this was a marriage of convenience to Martin’s brother because of the child. But now that the pregnancy is... terminated... you want a divorce, isn’t that correct?”

  “Yes,” she said shortly. Terminated. What a word.

  “Then I think you should see him. Brockman says here in his letter that your husband will come to this office any time to address this. Should I arrange it?”

  Helene was silent.

  Kerry waited expectantly.

  “All right,” she said finally, rising and shouldering her purse. “Let me know the time.”

  She walked out of the office as Kerry stared after her, his expression thoughtful.

  * * * *

  It was the day before Halloween, a blustery autumn afternoon, when Helene walked up the interior staircase of Kerry’s office building to his suite. She had been there many times with Martin, but since she had been coming to this place in connection with her divorce, the very carpets and pictures and plaques seemed different, alien. She had taken special care with her appearance, selecting a peach wool two-piece dress to wear with a new pair of pumps. She thought she was ready, but nothing could really prepare her for her first sight of Chris in close to six weeks. Her heart was beating rapidly and her mouth was dry as she opened the door to Kerry’s office and saw Chris sitting in the waiting room, alone.

  He stood as he saw her and their eyes met. Helene thought immediately that he looked thinner, but it made him even more handsome, giving his cheekbones more prominence and accentuating the planes of his face. He was wearing an eggshell sweater with a tan checked jacket and brown twill slacks. He seemed too big for the office, too tanned and fit to be confined by four paneled walls. Had she forgotten how black his hair was, how firm and sculptured his mouth? Why couldn’t the man ever look bad? she wondered desperately. His undimmed allure wouldn’t make dealing with him any easier.

  “Hello, Helene,” he said, in the husky, haunting voice she heard nightly in her dreams.

  “Hello, Chris.”

  “You look terrific,” he said.

  What a liar he was. She hadn’t slept for two nights running in anticipation of seeing him and she probably looked like Mina Von Helsing after a visit from Dracula.

  “Thank you. I’m feeling better.”

  “Are you working?”

  “I’m substitute teaching on a day-to-day basis. I hope to get something more permanent after the holidays.” She paused. “How is the ranch?”

  “Fine. I left Sam in charge.” He coughed nervously. “We bought three new Arabians last week.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Maria tells me you write to her all the time.”

  “Yes, I miss her.” Was it possible that they were standing in this sanitized cubicle exchanging pleasantries as if they were former classmates meeting at old home week? She felt as if she were watching herself in a movie.

  “Mr. Kerry will see you now, Mr. and Mrs. Murdock,” the receptionist announced behind them.

  They filed in together and took seats across from Kerry’s broad desk, which was littered with files. His phone had several lines, two of which were glowing.

  Kerry got up briskly and shook hands with Chris after nodding to Helene.

  “Nice to meet you, Murdock. Martin always spoke well of you. We really miss him around here, I can tell you.” He glanced past Chris into the hall. “Brockman didn’t come with you?” he added, sitting again in his leather chair.

  “I don’t need him. Whatever Helene wants is okay with me. I’ve already said so,” Chris replied.

  “I don’t want anything,” Helene said quickly.

  “Now, Helene, don’t start that again,” Kerry said. “We’re having this meeting so that we can agree on a reasonable sum for alimony, and you knew that when you came here.”

  “I was
hoping to change Chris’ mind,” she said.

  “I have to tell you, Helene, you’re quite a departure from the divorcing wives I usually encounter in my practice,” Kerry said dryly, adjusting the knot of his tie.

  “Helene is unusual in a lot of respects,” Chris said flatly.

  Kerry stared at him for a moment, then cleared his throat as he picked up a file.

  “Let’s get down to it,” he said, “and then I’ll call Brockman and see if we can finalize this.”

  The session was mercifully brief and concluded with Helene agreeing to accept a minimal sum just to end the agony of enduring Chris’ presence next to her. As they were leaving Kerry said jovially, “I wish all the couples I saw were as reasonable as you two. In fact, I’m having a little trouble understanding why you’re divorcing at all.”

  The silence was deafening.

  “So,” Kerry said, to break it, “Chris, how long are you staying in town?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Can I arrange to drop you somewhere, your hotel or anything, the airport?”

  “No, thanks, I can handle it,” Chris replied.

  “Well, nice meeting you,” Kerry concluded. “If there’s anything else I can do, just let me know.”

  “I will.”

  The two men shook hands and then the lawyer hurried back into his office.

  His farewell left them standing awkwardly in the waiting room. Helene glanced over at the receptionist, typing away behind her glass screen, headphones in place. The woman looked up and smiled pleasantly, obviously wondering why they were lingering when their business was done.

  “I have to go,” Helene said suddenly, bolting into the hall.

  Chris dashed out after her.

  “Are you really going to just go away and leave me?” he said.

  Chapter 9

  “Chris, please don’t do this,” Helene said, continuing to flee down the hall.

  “Do what? I just want to talk to you.”

  “There’s nothing to say.”

  “Do you want it to end this way, in a lawyer’s office?” he asked, moving ahead to block her path.

  “It has to end some way. We’ve hurt each other enough.”

  He jammed his hands in his pockets, taking a breath. “Helene, I’m sorry about the baby.”

  She looked away. “I know you are.”