by Andrea Ring
Clark draws me into his chest and holds me.
“I told you about Jay, so you know that story. I still feel guilty—he doesn’t know about Bea. I don’t know if I should tell him or not. One minute I think I’d just be screwing up his life by telling him, and the next I feel like I’m denying him the child he has every right to know. There’s no good choice.”
“No, there’s not,” Clark whispers into my hair. “But I support you. Whatever choice you make, I support you.”
I finally lean back and lift my head. “If it were you,” I say, “would you want to know?”
Clark purses his lips. “I’m not sure I’m the one to ask,” he says. “Blood doesn’t automatically mean family to me.”
“So you wouldn’t want to know,” I say.
“I didn’t say that, it’s just, I will love my child because I will bond with him. Because I’ll take care of him and protect him and share memories with him. I don’t think I’ll feel automatically attached because I know I created him.”
I sigh. “I don’t know how it is for guys, but for me, it was instant love. But I carried Bea, so I guess I had a lot of time to bond with her before she was even born.”
“Guess I’ll never know,” Clark says, reaching out to run a hand through my hair.
“You have plenty of time to have kids, Clark,” I say.
“God willing, I’ll never have kids of my own, I mean, biologically.”
“How can you say that?” I ask. I shake his arm. “You’ll be a great dad. You’re so smart, and those eyes…I could picture a little girl with your eyes.”
He gives me a small smile. “But the woman I plan on marrying, see, she can’t have my baby. And I wouldn’t want to go through that with anyone else.”
“Marrying?”
He nods. “We’ll adopt. Plenty of babies out there need a good home. Did I mention she’s already an amazing mother?”
“You think she’s amazing?”
“She is. And beautiful. And smart. And brave.”
“Not brave,” I whisper, but Clark ignores me.
“Did I tell you that I haven’t made love to her yet, even though we’ve spent the night together?”
I cock my head and wipe the tears from my eyes. “Why is that?”
Clark stands up and begins to pace. “Like I told her, I’ve never had sex without being high. I don’t know…I’m worried.”
“About what?”
“The…you know how I said I like pain, that I like it ‘cause it makes me feel something? I’ve been thinking about that ever since I said it, and I think I was wrong. It’s not that I can’t feel anything, it’s that I’m scared to feel. I drank so I wouldn’t feel. I used drugs so I wouldn’t feel. I haven’t…the only thing really good, really intense I’ve felt in years, is you.”
I lock gazes with him.
“And I can’t imagine how much more intense it will be when we finally…”
“Have sex?”
He shakes his head. “I love you. I want to make love to you.”
My heart skips a beat, and I leap to my feet to wrap my arms around him, but as I do, he drops to his knees in front of me and takes my hands in his.
“I’m on my knees, Leni,” he whispers. “And I don’t kneel to anyone.”
I push my fingers through his hair, stiff from his mohawk, and gripping it tight, I force him to look up at me. “I love you,” I tell him.
Then his arms are around me, and he drags me down on top of him, and our lips come together, and I want him touching every part of me so I can love every part of him.
And that’s when Bea starts to wail.
I laugh against his lips, and Clark scowls.
“She must know you were about to compromise her mother,” I say.
Clark smiles. “She’s right. Raincheck until our darling daughter’s bedtime?”
I suck in a breath. “Our daughter?”
“If she and her mother will have me. I want this, us, our family. Marry me, Leni.”
I hug Clark tight as Bea screams louder.
“Yes.”
***
Instead of Sunday dinner at Linda’s house, we invite her over to see my new apartment. Although I fully intend to use my new pots and pans to cook dinner, by the time we’ve cleaned up and dumped the boxes and arranged everything, it’s late and we’re exhausted. Clark runs home to clean up and pack a bag since he’s staying the night, and I slip a pre-made lasagna in the oven, open a bag of salad mix, and set the table.
Clark comes back quickly, and I grin at his towering mohawk, no longer disheveled, and full eye makeup. He gives me a deep kiss, and I almost wish we weren’t expecting company. Except with Bea here, it’s like having company all the time anyway.
“Hey Bea,” he says, picking her up and twirling her around. He kisses her head and sets her back down. She clings to his leg for a bit before picking up a Cabbage Patch doll and chewing on its toes. He turns back to me. “Smells good.”
“Lasagna.”
“The food smells good, too.”
I laugh.
“What can I help you do?” he asks.
“Absolutely nothing,” I say. “It’s all done. We have an hour to kill.”
Clark kisses me again. “An hour is plenty of time.”
I swat his roaming hands away. “No way. Linda will be able to tell.”
He laughs. “You’re probably right. So what are we—” His ringing phone cuts him off.
He takes it out of his pocket and frowns. He answers it.
“Hello? Hey, Kate. Wait…no. Slow down. Megan what?”
He lowers himself to the couch, and I see his face pale beneath the makeup.
“No way. No. There’s no way. I…no. I can’t be around that shit. I can’t…No. Take ‘em to your place, Kate…I don’t live there anymore…It’s not my problem…No, it’s not…shit! Kate! No!…It’s what? That bitch…I can’t believe…”
He finally glances my way. I’m riveted to his half of the conversation, one hand clutching the back of a kitchen chair. He looks back down.
“Fine…yes…I know where it is. I’m ten minutes out. You better fucking be there…yeah. See you soon.” He hangs up the phone and stands.
“Leni.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s too long to explain. I have to go.”
“How about a hint?” I say.
Clark sighs. “An old friend of mine is in trouble. She needs my help.”
“Old girlfriend?” I ask.
He finally meets my eyes. “Yes.”
“Okay. You have to help her.”
“I do?”
I nod. “That’s what friends do.”
“I haven’t seen her in over two years.”
“Then she must need your help pretty badly.”
Clark walks over to me and brushes my lips with a soft kiss. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Of course,” I say.
He sighs again. “This is…it’s more complicated than that.”
I smile at him. “I trust you. Go do what you have to do and we can talk about it tonight.”
“Thank you,” he says, kissing me again.
I push at him. “Go. I love you.”
“I love you. God, that feels good to say.” And he goes.
Linda arrives not long after, and I briefly tell her about Clark’s mysterious phone call.
“Who called him?” she asks.
“Someone named Kate, and the person who needs help is Megan.”
Linda grimaces as I dish out salad.
“Kate was Clark’s sponsor back when he first got sober. They had a falling out when Kate agreed to sponsor Megan, too.”
I don’t have anything to add to the conversation, so I eat while Linda talks.
“Megan was a sweet girl, but she wasn’t serious about her sobriety. She only tried to get clean because Clark was going to leave her if she didn’t. She just couldn’t do it. She’d be so
ber three days, maybe a week, then go back to using. Clark tried to help her, but at that point, he needed to take care of himself. I didn’t know they stayed in touch.”
I wipe my mouth with my napkin. “He said that haven’t spoken in two years,” I tell her.
“It must be pretty bad then, if Kate’s calling him now.”
Just what I thought.
Linda changes the subject, and we enjoy the meal and the company, chatting about all kinds of things just to keep our minds off Clark.
At 7:30, Bea starts to fuss, and I change her and put her down while Linda does the dishes. I make us both a cup of coffee, and we continue talking until Clark calls an hour later.
“Hey,” he says. “Is Linda still there?”
“Yes.”
“This is…I don’t want to talk while she’s there. This is gonna take a lot longer than I thought.”
“I can wait, Clark.”
He hesitates. “I might not see you until tomorrow.”
I fight the nausea building in my stomach. “As long as I know you’re coming back.”
He laughs, but it’s more to ease his tension than because he thought I was being funny. “You couldn’t keep me away if you tried. You know that, right?”
“I do,” I say.
“It’s just…shit. Are you okay tonight without me? If you’re not, I’m there.”
I smile at the anxiety in his voice, anxiety over me. No one’s worried about me in a very long time.
“I’m fine. We’re fine. Just call me and keep in touch.”
“Will do. I love you, Leni.”
“Love you too.”
“So what’s up?” Linda asks as I click off my phone.
“He didn’t say. Just that it’s taking him a lot longer than he thought and he’ll call me later.”
Linda smiles and stands. “I can take a hint. I’ll leave you two to discuss it.”
She hugs me and thanks me for the meal, then she invites me and Bea over for next Sunday dinner.
Of course I accept.
***
Clark checks in with me a couple of times as he promised, but he doesn’t show up. I drive Bea to Angela’s in the morning and spend the day at school trying not to worry.
Luckily, the tennis season has ended and I’m back to my three-day work week. So I pick up Bea after school and we get to go home and relax.
Long after Bea’s in bed and I’m in sweats reading on the couch, the doorbell rings.
Clark stands on my doorstep with a pale pink diaper bag in one hand and a sleeping baby on his shoulder.
I can only stare at them.
“Mind if I come in and put her down? She weighs a ton.”
I step aside and close the door behind him.
Clark drops the bag and gently lowers the baby into the playpen, where she continues to sleep peacefully. He stares at me. I stare back.
“Megan had a baby, oh, a year and a half ago,” he says. “She says it’s mine.”
I blink at him.
“The timing could be right…I don’t know. Megan didn’t sleep around, but when you’re high…who knows. I have no idea if she’s mine, but Megan put my name on the birth certificate. Megan died this morning, of an overdose.”
“Oh, Clark,” I say.
Neither of us moves.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asks.
“Why would I?”
“You didn’t ask for this.”
“Neither did you,” I say. “And I have Bea, and you didn’t walk away from me.”
“Why would I?” he says.
I finally will my feet to move, and I squat down next to the baby. Her clothes are a bit dirty, but she looks plump and healthy.
“What’s her name?”
“Kate. After our friend, Kate,” he says.
“Kate. A beautiful name. She’s beautiful.”
Clark squats down next to me. “Do I keep her?” he asks. “I mean, if she’s not mine?”
“Where would she go?”
“The system, I guess. Kate said there isn’t anyone else.”
I rock back on my heels. “It’s your decision, Clark. I’ll support whatever you want to do.”
“I should probably start with a blood test.”
I gape at him. “I thought you said blood doesn’t matter. If you want her, you want her, no matter what. If you don’t, you don’t. Isn’t that what you told me earlier?”
I stand up and sit on the couch, and Clark joins me.
“You’re right. I did say that, and I meant it. What’s wrong with me?”
I reach out and rub slow circles on his back.
“You’re frightened. And shocked. And overwhelmed. Let’s go to bed. You need to sleep on it.”
“I think I know what I want to do, but you’re right. I need to think about it. And we need to discuss it. I know you said it’s my decision, but we’re engaged. It’s our decision.”
“And I meant what I said. You need to live with this decision, it’s totally personal. I’m with you, no matter what.”
“God,” he says, pulling me tight against him. He whispers into my hair. “I’m gonna cry for her, for Megan. I don’t want you to see that.”
“You’re supposed to be sad,” I whisper back. “You don’t have to hide from me.”
And then the tears come. Not a flood, not an emotional downpour, but something quiet and heartfelt and all the more poignant for its lack of drama.
He lets go of me and sits back. “It could have been me,” he says.
“But it’s not. You made the right choices.”
“I could really be her father.”
“If you make that choice.”
He smiles. “Why do you make everything sound so easy?”
“It’s not easy,” I say. “Someone told me it’s the hardest choice you’ll ever have to make.”
We shed our clothes and climb into bed. I tell Clark to turn over so I can rub his back.
“Do you want to talk?” I ask him.
“If you promise not to stop,” he says into his pillow.
I smile in the dark. “Do you want me to be there when you tell Linda?”
He lifts his head and turns it toward me. “You’d do that for me?”
“We’re a team.”
He flips himself over. I can’t see his eyes, but I can feel him staring at me. “I don’t deserve you, Leni.”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “Why do you keep saying that? If you think I’m so great, why can’t you believe that I made a great choice with you?”
“It’s not that,” he says. “It’s that I, Clark Jones, don’t deserve you. I’m fine with the person that I am now, and I trust myself, mostly, finally, but I haven’t earned this, this life, that’s happening to me.”
“But you chose me,” I say. “As much as I chose you. It wasn’t fate. It was you being you and me being me. It was us deciding.”
“And what about the baby?”
“The baby is your choice, Clark. If you choose Kate, it’s not fate. It’s you building the life you want.”
Clark pulls me down to his chest. We fall asleep that way, and wake in the morning to Kate and Bea’s lusty cries.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Clark tries to pin Linda down for a breakfast meeting, or even for dinner. But she has a meeting with the District Board at 8:30 in the morning and a kick-boxing class at 6:00 in the evening.
Kate and Bea are watching Max and Ruby while Clark wrestles with Linda over the phone. I wiggle my fingers at him. “Give me the phone,” I mouth.
“Hold on a sec, Aunt Lin,” he says, covering the bottom of his cell with his hand. “What?”
“Let me talk to her.”
Clark has tried to be insistent yet vague about a meeting and Linda apparently isn’t getting it. He hands me the phone and plops down on the floor next to the girls.
“Hi, Linda,” I say.
“Leni, what’s all this about? I told Clark he could come b
y the school at lunch if he needs to speak to me. Is this about Megan? Because I really can’t rearrange my day to help her.”
“Yes,” I say. “You’ve hit on the crux of the matter, but this is urgent.”
“Is she in trouble? I can’t bail her out again, Leni. Clark knows that.”
“That’s not the issue,” I say. “But this can’t wait. Please. Call in sick.” I glance at Clark. “He needs you.”
Linda sucks in a breath. “You want me to skip work? Not just rearrange my schedule? This is that important?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you? I’ll come to you.”
“My apartment.” And Linda hangs up.
Ten minutes later, she’s knocking on my door. I pick up Bea and let her in.
“What’s going on?” she says, and then she sees Clark sitting on the couch, Kate in his lap. “No,” she whispers.
Clark stands up and shifts Kate to his hip.
“Megan died yesterday,” he says. “Overdose. This is my daughter, Kate.”
Linda doesn’t move, but I see the tears welling in her eyes. “Kate.”
“Katherine Linda Jones,” he says. “I’m keeping her.”
Linda nods.
“I’m not asking you for help, I just…I want you to be a part of her life.”
“I’m a great aunt,” she whispers.
Clark shakes his head. “No. A grandmother.”
Linda walks over to them and holds out her arms. Clark hands over Kate, who looks up at her grandmother curiously. She grabs Linda’s necklace and puts it in her mouth. Linda just smiles.
Clark walks over to me and Bea and takes my hand. “I’ve asked Leni to marry me, and she said yes. We’d like your blessing.”
Nervous, I look at Linda. She’s gazing at Kate with complete adoration and love, and I feel a spurt of jealousy, that Kate is her blood and Bea and I are hangers-on in this story. But then she turns that loving gaze on me, on Bea, and I know that I’m wrong. She feels the same way about us.