The Friendship Pact

by Tara Taylor Quinn

“No.” I smiled at the thought, which I was sure had been her intention. “You stay home with the baby and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  It felt good. Having Bailey and Mattie waiting at home for us—or just around the corner from home. We were an unusual little family, but I loved everything about us.Telling me to call her as soon as we got home so she could bring over some food, and to call her that night if I needed to talk, Bailey eventually ended the call. We’d crossed another of life’s hurdles and come out unscathed.

  Later that week, after a call from the urologist who’d run the tests Danny had insisted on having immediately, I needed to talk, but I didn’t call Bailey.

  I didn’t call anyone. Or say a word about the irreparable damage that kick to the groin had done to Danny’s sperm ducts.

  I just curled up in bed with my now sterile husband and held him while we both cried ourselves to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Ms. Watters? Mr. Brown is here to see you.”

  Diane’s voice came over the intercom phone on Bailey’s desk on a Friday afternoon. She’d just returned from a settlement conference with a family court judge who wasn’t good at that sort of thing.

  “Thanks, Diane,” she said, closing a client file and shutting her laptop as she got up. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  It was warm for May in Pittsburgh, close to ninety, and the firm’s AC. was blasting away. Bailey pulled on the jacket to her navy-and-white suit.

  She and Danny had turned some corners. They were definitely family—in their own way. But not close friends, not bosom buddies. He didn’t drop in for casual visits. Even if he was in the area.

  She took him back to her office, closing the door and then leaned against it. “It’s Kora, isn’t it?” she asked. Her friend had done remarkably well those months after she’d lost William, but she’d declined that spring, losing ten pounds she couldn’t afford to lose.

  She wasn’t pregnant yet, either, and Bailey knew that was the main source of Kora’s apathy.

  Danny didn’t bother to sit either. The past year had changed him, as well. Toughened him up, but made him more vulnerable, too. Hard edges to hide the pain inside.

  “I’m sterile, Bailey.”

  Mouth open, she stood there, not sure she’d heard him right. Who just came out with something like that?

  “The football injury, it wasn’t only my bones and muscles that took a beating. My sperm ducts were smashed.”

  Her face felt stiff. With both hands on the door behind her, bracing her, she stared at him. “Isn’t there something they can do?”

  She didn’t know a lot about such things, but surely tubes could be rebuilt or...

  “The damage is permanent.”

  “Does Kora know?”

  “Yes.”

  “So...that’s why she’s been so down.” And she’d never said anything. “We hardly talk to each other anymore,” he said. “I look at her and all I can think is how much she wants a baby, how great a mother she’d be. Hell, Kora was born to be a mother. Everyone who knows her knows that.”

  Bailey nodded, but her heart broke and she couldn’t find her voice. “Every time she looks at me,” he said, “she gets this...this sadness in her eyes, like she’s crying but there are no tears left.”

  She knew what he meant. She’d seen it, too. Unless Kora was with Mattie. Then she smiled. Bailey had even heard her laugh a time or two when Mattie was really turning on the charm with his grins and bubbles.

  “All is not lost, Danny,” she said as various thoughts occurred to her. “You can adopt. There are programs....I work with one of them. Pittsburgh Adoption Day. A couple of judges hold it once a year and do dozens of adoptions in one afternoon. Agencies and lawyers bring the candidates together and—”

  “I’m not going to ask Kora to give up the chance to have a baby of her own. Especially not after losing one. She felt William inside her, Bailey. Maybe not kicking yet, but her body had accepted him, he was growing, and then—well, she needs to know what it feels like to have her baby inside her. To sweat and cry as she brings him into the world. She’s lived her whole life waiting to have that experience and—”

  “I agree. She’s lived her whole life waiting to be a mother,” Bailey said firmly. She did understand—everything Danny was saying and more. But he couldn’t change the facts with shoulds and wants or even needs. For his own sake, as well as Kora’s, he had to accept what was and find another way.

  “I need my sperm, Bailey.” Hands in his pockets, he was a daunting sight with the hard-as-steel determination in his eyes. “We’re going to have to tell Kora what we did, and then I need you to release the sperm I left for your exclusive use. If we have to do this the same way Mattie was conceived, then we do, but my wife is going to have my child.”

  The Danny she knew was not in that room. This man, he was hard. Unbending. And....

  “I had it destroyed, Danny.” The words almost didn’t make it past the thickness in her throat. “You were so adamant about how it was only to be used by me, and I didn’t want to risk having it get mixed up and given to someone else.”

  Those things happened. More often than a lot of people wanted to know.

  “You what?” Never had she heard such vehemence in such softly spoken words.

  “I had it destroyed,” she repeated. It was so hard to stand there, telling him the horrible news. Not because she feared his retribution, not for one second, but because she was breaking his heart.

  His and Kora’s.

  “I did it to protect you and Kora. You were so generous to do that for me and I wasn’t going to take any chance that it could go bad for you.”

  “What if you wanted another kid?” he asked, frowning with what appeared to be genuine perplexity. “Did you think I was going to go through that again?”

  “I’m not going to have another child.”

  “You can’t possibly know that, Bailey. My God, you’re only thirty! It’s obvious to anyone that you love being a mother. When Mattie gets a little older, you’re going to want another one and—”

  “My life plan hasn’t changed in ten years, Danny,” She interrupted. “And it’s not going to change. I’ve known for a long time that I wasn’t getting married. And when I decided to have Mattie, I knew I’d only be doing this once. I’m a single parent with a full-time job. I can be there for Mattie, I can support him and rearrange my schedule for him. I will not spread myself too thin and have him suffer as a result.”

  “But—”

  “Kora was the one who always wanted a big family,” she said now, sad beyond expression. “I always wanted a small one.”

  “But...”

  “I had my tubes tied after I had Mattie.” She hadn’t told anyone. Not even Kora. The decision had been personal.

  And one Kora wasn’t going to understand.

  She watched as realization dawned on him. He’d come there that day thinking he faced telling his wife that her best friend’s baby was his—but with the end note that there was sperm available, his sperm, which would allow them to have a child of their own.

  He’d come there thinking he’d found their solution.

  “I needed that sperm to save my marriage,” he said. His voice was so flat, so dead, she couldn’t tell if he was blaming her or just dying inside.

  “Your marriage to Kora is a whole lot stronger than you give it credit for,” Bailey said then, coming away from the door to face him eye to eye. Conviction drove her now. “You guys are going through a horrible time. You’re both hurting. It’s a brutal experience for both of you, and there’s going to be some fallout. But you two also share a love that not many people ever know. Trust me on that.” With each word, she drew closer. “I see the other side of marriage, Danny. The couples who get into trouble and don’t h
ave that love to sustain them. You’re different. Your love is different.”

  He wasn’t hearing a word she was saying. But she said them anyway. And would keep saying them.

  Because at some point, he had to believe them.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The bruises that showed on my husband’s body faded away. The broken wrist, cracked ribs, all fused back together.

  He appeared as good as pre-football injury, if you didn’t look too deeply into those deadened blueeyes.

  I tried everything I knew to bring him—to bring us—back to life. Granted, at first I’d thrown myself one-hundred-percent into my teaching and whatever was left was all for Mattie. I nurtured other people’s children. And if that was how my life was going to be, then I would give it everything I had.

  I had Danny. And I had Bailey. And Mattie. And I could be very happy with that.

  As school ended that year, I put all my energy into bringing Danny back to me. I bought naughty clothes, and when those didn’t work, introduced him to some toys.

  I planned a getaway weekend but he canceled at the last minute, due to a sudden business trip to New York.

  He went to New York. I’m sure he worked. I was equally certain that he hadn’t had to do that particular task at that particular time.

  Getting desperate, I pulled out my last stop. On the one-year anniversary of our son’s death, I called Danny at work, told him I really needed him and demanded he take the rest of the afternoon off.

  I’d never done anything like it before.

  I guess that was the reason it actually worked. Danny still loved me; I didn’t doubt that. And if I had to use that knowledge to reach him, to save our marriage, then I would.

  I waited for him to come home. We weren’t going to stay there, but I needed us to be in one car.

  I didn’t tell my parents what I was doing. Or even Bailey. I was certain that the day, and Danny and I, were on everyone’s minds. But this was between my husband and me.

  When he got home I was crying. It wasn’t part of the plan, but some things couldn’t be helped. I told Danny I needed to walk, and I asked him to please change into shorts and tennis shoes. He tried to hug me instead. I pulled away.

  We had to go.

  I noticed that he’d chosen his pastel green golf shirt. I was wearing my green tank top. William hadn’t lived long enough to have a favorite color, but green was the color I associated with him. It was the color we spent all those months searching for as we awaited his arrival. The color we’d chosen to welcome him into the world, into our home....”I’ll drive,” I said to Danny as he finished tying his shoe and reached, wordlessly, for the keys.

  “It’s okay, Kor. I know where we’re going. I can get us there.”

  I could have been surprised. But I wasn’t.

  Neither of us spoke as we made the drive outside town. I don’t know how many times Danny had been there over the past year, but we’d never gone together.

  At first, I’d gone every day.

  And Bailey and I had taken Mattie out to introduce him to the best friend he’d lost.

  As soon as Danny pulled up the gravel lane to our site, I could tell that someone had already been there. William’s plot was filled with green and yellow giraffes. A zoo of them.

  Bailey. And probably my parents.

  They hadn’t wanted me to arrive and find a cold stone as the only marker of my son’s existence.

  Danny didn’t say a word as he stopped the car. We got out at the same time, but separately. When he would have walked to the grave alone, I took his hand.

  We didn’t talk. What could you say? He had tears on his cheeks. I was sobbing.

  We had to do this. Had to mourn. To relieve ourselves of the pain that was going to kill us if we didn’t find a way to get rid of it.

  Or live with it.

  After a while, I sat down. And pulled Danny down beside me.

  This was what I’d come to do.

  And it was easier than I’d thought it would be. Almost as though my son had brought me here and was going to help.

  “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I laid eyes on you,” I told Danny.

  He raised his eyebrows as he gave me a silent glance. I plucked at the grass poking at my ankle.

  “The day we got married, I didn’t think it was possible to love someone more than I loved you.”

  His glance sharpened.

  “But then I got pregnant, and William brought us closer than ever.”

  His attention turned to the grave. I held Danny’s hand again, and then his chin, turning his face back to me.

  “Please don’t let our son also tear us apart, Danny.”

  His eyes filled, his chin trembled, but he didn’t speak.

  “He wouldn’t want that,” I told him. “He doesn’t want that.”

  “He’s gone, Kora. He doesn’t want or not want anything.”

  “His body is lifeless. His spirit is not.” I was absolutely certain of that.

  He didn’t argue. But didn’t agree, either. Most likely, he was humoring me. I wasn’t reaching him.

  “Can you sit here, on your son’s grave and tell me you don’t want to do this anymore? Are you done with me? With us? If we can’t give birth again, it’s over?”

  “There’s no if about it. We can’t give birth again.”

  “And you’re letting the bitterness eat away at you, Danny. And as it does, it takes bites out of me, too. You had an accident. Who knows why, but it happened. Who knows why William died. But he did. And we didn’t, Danny. You and I, we ‘re still here, still living. With years ahead of us to fill with happiness—if you’ll let us.”

  “How can you even think we’ll be happy again?”

  “Because I love you and I love being with you.”

  He’d begun watching me differently. And I took hope.

  Open your heart to me, Danny. I’ll soothe it.

  And then you’ll soothe mine.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” I said as a breeze blew up and the scent of flowers from surrounding graves wafted over us. “Can you sit on your son’s grave and tell me that you want us to be done?”

  “No.”

  I almost wept with relief. And took a deep breath.

  “I talked to a woman, Danny. Had her out to the house, actually. Yesterday. She’s from an agency. She wants to meet you.”

  “I am not going to adopt or watch you raise another man’s child.”

  I could feel the explosion brewing, but pushed on because I had to. He was angry. A natural part of grief. But in time, that anger would pass.

  Question was, would we still be together by then? If he kept this up much longer, he was going to kill us, too. Kill our marriage. I refused to let that happen.

  “We’re perfect candidates, Danny. She said we could have a baby, maybe even within a few months.”

  I wanted it so badly, I hadn’t slept a wink the night before.

  “He or she would be ours, Danny, just as much as William was, except for the science of it.”

  Bailey’s quest, her hours and hours of talking to me about her sperm donor being no more than a biological partner, had apparently sunk in more deeply than I’d thought.

  “I can’t do it.”

  “Why not?” I’d gotten louder, although I hadn’t meant to. “Come on, Danny.” I lowered my voice again, instilling every ounce of my heart and soul into my plea. “At least consider it. Think about it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I really want this, Danny,” I said, pulling out my last stop. “I need it.”

  He stood then, shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at me. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Kor. It’s that I
can’t,” he said, confusing me.

  I didn’t like sitting down there, with him towering over me. Didn’t like having to look so far up. But I couldn’t stand. I wasn’t sure my legs would hold me. I wasn’t ready to leave my son yet.

  Being there, being as close to William’s earthly existence as I could get, gave me strength.

  “Don’t you think I’ve considered all the options, Kor? You aren’t the only one who sees what’s happening to us. You aren’t the only one who cares....”

  “I didn’t—”

  “No.” He waved his hand. “Just let me say this. I’ve hardly thought of anything since we found out....”

  His sterility didn’t change Danny in my eyes. But it changed everything in his. I understood that, but I didn’t really. He cared about a physical reality. I did, too, but I didn’t think, for one second, that something physical was anywhere near as important as spiritual and emotional realities. Like the love between us.

  And the love William could now bestow upon us.

  “You asked to think about adoption as if today is the first time the possibility occurred to me. I’ve been considering it for months, Kor. And I’m telling you, I can’t do it. Every time I think about watching you raise another man’s child, I shut down. I want to pack my bags and leave.”

  Pack his bags? Leave? The blood seemed to drain out of me. “Danny?”

  He squatted down beside me and I knew he could feel the sucker punch he’d just delivered to my heart.

  “Don’t you see, Kor? You can still have children. You can get pregnant again, experience every aspect of the birthing process, bring your own child into the world and see parts of yourself in him. I can’t.”

  That’s when I finally got it.

  Danny’s accident had separated us because he was afraid.

  Because I could have another man’s child. Because another man could give me what he could not.

  I could choose, as my best friend had, to have myself inseminated with another man’s sperm.

  The possibilities rolled over me, one after another.

  “If we adopt, we’d both be raising someone else’s child,” I said.