Their time in Paris was everything they had hoped. The room at the Ritz was small but elegant, they walked miles all over Paris, and ate in wonderful old bistros on the Left Bank. They went to Nôtre Dame and Sacré Coeur, and poked around antiques shops, looking for things to take back to Blaxton House. The time they shared was magical, just as it had been so far everywhere else. But Paris seemed even more romantic and particularly special. The city was meant for that.
“I’ve never been so spoiled in my life.” She tried to pay for some of their dinners, but Finn wouldn’t let her. He had old-fashioned ideas about it, although he had let her pay for a few things for the house. She wished he would let her do more. His books did well, she knew, but he had a son to support and pay tuition for. He was putting Michael through college, and even without income taxes in Ireland, a house the size of Blaxton House was a major challenge to maintain and support. And life was expensive everywhere. She had so much money from Paul that she felt guilty not helping Finn more. She tried to explain it to him one day over lunch.
“I know it’s embarrassing to have me pitch in,” she said gently, “but I got this crazy huge settlement from Paul when we divorced. He had just sold his company, and with Mimi gone, neither of us has anything to do with our money. He spends most of his time on the boat. And I have hardly any expenses. Honestly, I wish you’d let me pay for things once in a while.”
“That’s not my style,” Finn said firmly, and then wondered about something. “With Mimi gone, who are you going to leave your money to one day?” It was an odd question, but nothing was out of bounds between them. They had talked about everything, and she had thought of it herself. She had no living relatives except Paul, and he was sixteen years older than she was, and very sick. It was unlikely that he would outlive her, a thought that made her very sad. And all the money she had came from him. He had given her a staggering settlement in the divorce, over her protests, but he had insisted that he wanted her set for life, and whatever was left when he died, was coming to her too.
“I don’t know,” Hope said honestly, thinking about the money she would leave behind at the end of her life. “Dartmouth maybe, in honor of my father and Mimi. Or Harvard. I don’t have anyone to leave it to. It’s kind of an odd situation. I give away a fair amount every year now, to various philanthropic causes I care about. I set up a scholarship in Mimi’s name at Dartmouth, because she went to school there, and another one at the New York City Ballet.”
“Maybe you should fund things that you enjoy.”
“I know. It’s kind of taken me the last two years to get used to having all this money. I don’t need it. I told Paul that when we got divorced. I lead a simple life.” And her parents had left her enough to take care of the house on Cape Cod. “Sometimes I feel guilty having it,” she said honestly. “It seems kind of a waste.” He nodded, laughed, and said he wished he had her problem.
“I keep wanting to put money aside to restore the house, but it’s hard with a kid in college and houses all over the place. Or two anyway. One of these days I’ll really clean the place up.” She was dying to help him do it, but it was too soon for that too. They had been together for two months, which in the real world wasn’t a long time. Maybe in a few months, if all went well, he would let her help financially with restoring the house. She really wanted to do it.
After that, they walked in the Tuileries, went to the Louvre, and walked back to the Ritz for their last night. It had been a heavenly weekend, just like everything else they did together. They ordered room service and spent the night in bed, indulging in the luxury of the hotel. And in the morning, they took the train to London, and were back at his tiny house at noon. It warmed her heart to see it, and think of the shoot they had done there. As she had suspected at the time, they had gotten several wonderful photos out of it, and Finn had chosen one he loved for the book, when it was ready for publication. She had framed several others for him, and for herself.
She had her appointment at the Tate Modern Museum that afternoon, and Hope was startled to discover that Finn was annoyed about it, which didn’t make sense to her.
“What’s up?” she asked him, as they shared one of his terrific omelettes in his kitchen. “Are you mad about something?” He was visibly pouting at her over lunch.
“No, I just don’t know why you have to meet a curator today.”
“Because they want to give me a retrospective show next year,” she explained quietly. “That’s a big deal, Finn.”
“Can I come with you?” he asked, looking hopeful, and she looked apologetic, but shook her head.
“It wouldn’t look serious, if I brought someone along.”
“Tell them I’m your assistant.” He was still pouting.
“You don’t take assistants to meet with curators, only to shoots.” He shrugged in answer, and didn’t speak again until she was leaving the house. She had called for a cab.
“When will you be back?” he asked coldly.
“As soon as I can. I promise. If you want to walk around the museum while I talk to him, you can. It’s excellent.” He said nothing and shook his head, and a minute later she went out, feeling guilty for leaving him, which she knew was ridiculous. But he was trying to make her feel that way, and had succeeded. As a result, she rushed through the meeting, didn’t cover all the questions she wanted to ask, and was back at his house in two hours. He was sitting on the couch, reading a book and sulking. He looked up with a sullen expression when she walked in.
“Was that fast enough for you?” Now she sounded annoyed, because she had hurried through the meeting, to get back to him. He just shrugged. “Why are you being like this? You’re not four years old. Sometimes I have work to do. So do you. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
“Why couldn’t you take me with you?” he said with a wounded expression.
“Because we’re two separate people, with separate lives and careers. I can’t always be part of yours either.”
“I want you to be. You’re always welcome to join me.”
“And most of the time, you are too. But I don’t know this curator, and I didn’t want him to think I’m a flake by mixing business with romance. It doesn’t look serious, Finn.”
“We’re together, aren’t we?” he questioned her with an injured look, which annoyed her even more. She had no reason to feel guilty, and resented what he was doing. And he had succeeded in making her feel bad. It didn’t seem fair. She loved him too, but he was acting like a two-year-old.
“Yes. But we’re not Siamese twins.” It was his fusion theory again, which she had never agreed with. He wanted to do everything together, and sometimes she just couldn’t. He couldn’t come to shoots either. And she couldn’t write a book with him. And however much he wanted it to be otherwise, they were not one person, they were two. She was very clear on that. He wasn’t. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” she said gently, and he ignored her while he went on reading.
He didn’t respond for a long time, and then he surprised her again. He looked up at her and closed the book. “I made an appointment for you tomorrow. For us.”
“With whom?” She was puzzled. “What kind of appointment?”
“With a doctor. A fertility doctor who specializes in people our age who want to have babies.” They both knew that his age was not a problem, hers was. He was being kind in how he said it and she looked at him wide-eyed.
“Why didn’t you talk to me about it before you made the appointment?” It seemed a rather high-handed thing to do, and she had told him she wanted to wait, for a while at least.
“I got the name, and I thought it was a good idea to meet her while we were in London. At least we can hear what she has to say, and what she recommends. You might need to start preparing for it now, if we’re going to do it in a few months.” He was moving very quickly, just as he had with their relationship in the beginning. But this was a much bigger commitment and decision. A baby was forever. And she wasn�
��t sure yet if they were.
“Finn, we don’t even know if we want a baby yet. We’ve only been together for two months. That’s a big decision. A huge decision. For both of us to make, not just you.”
“Can’t you just listen to her?” He looked like he was about to cry and she felt like a monster, but she wasn’t ready and she felt panicked to be talking to a doctor about it already. “Will you talk to her?” His eyes pleaded with her, and she hated to hurt his feelings and turn him down.
Slowly, Hope nodded, but she wasn’t happy about it. “I will. But I don’t want to be rushed into this. I need time to make that decision. And I want to enjoy us first.” He smiled when she said that, and leaned over to kiss her.
“Thank you, that means a lot to me. I just don’t want us to miss out on having a baby of our own.” She was touched by what he said, but still upset that he had gone forward with it, without at least asking her first. She wondered if it was his way of getting even for not taking him to the museum meeting with her. But she knew it was more that he was desperate to have a baby with her. The problem was that it was too soon for her, and she had said that to him clearly since he first brought it up. He was very stubborn once he got an idea in his head. He seemed unfamiliar with the word “no.”
They went to Harry’s Bar again for dinner that night, and Hope was quiet, and then they came home and made love. But for the first time, she felt some distance from him. She didn’t want him making her decisions for her, particularly not big ones. Paul had never done that to her before the divorce. Before they had made all their big decisions jointly with lots of mutual consultation. It was what Hope expected of Finn, but he was much more forceful about his ideas. They were two very different men.
And she was even more upset the next day when they got to the doctor. It wasn’t an appointment for a consultation, it was a full workup for a fertility screening, with a battery of tests, some of them unpleasant, which she wasn’t prepared for. She balked when she discovered what was planned, and said something to the doctor about it, who seemed even more surprised that Hope didn’t know what the appointment would entail.
“I sent you a folder of information on it,” she said, looking at them with a confused expression. She was a very nice woman, and undoubtedly competent, but Hope was visibly unhappy at the news of what she was expected to do that day.
“I didn’t get the folder,” Hope said simply, looking at Finn. He was instantly sheepish. He had obviously gotten it when he made the appointment but not shared it with her. For the moment, this was his project, not hers. “I didn’t even know about this appointment until last night.”
“Do you want to do it?” the doctor asked her bluntly, and Hope felt as though she had her back to the wall. If she didn’t, Finn would be hurt, but she was going to be upset if she did. And the tests did not sound pleasant. She thought about it for a long moment, and out of love for him, decided to sacrifice herself.
“All right, I will. But we haven’t made a final decision yet about getting pregnant.”
“I have,” Finn said quickly, and both women laughed.
“Then you have the baby,” Hope said quickly.
“Have you ever been pregnant?” the doctor asked her, handing her a stack of forms to fill out, and two brochures about in vitro fertilization and donor eggs.
“Yes, once,” Hope said quietly, thinking of her daughter. “Twenty-three years ago.” She glanced at the brochure in her hand then. “Would we have to use donor eggs?” Hope didn’t like that idea at all. In that case, genetically, it would be Finn’s baby, but not hers. That didn’t sit well with her.
“Hopefully not, but it’s an option. We have a number of tests to run on you first, and we have to check the viability of your eggs. A younger egg is always a surer bet, of course. But yours may still be lively enough for us to use, with a little help.” She smiled, and Hope felt faintly sick. She hadn’t been ready for this process at all, and wasn’t sure if she ever would be. Finn wanted it so badly, he was overriding her. She knew he was doing it because he loved her. But it was a very big deal to her.
“Are we checking my eggs today?” Hope knew it wasn’t a small procedure, if that was the case.
“No, we can do that next time, if we need to. We’ll check your FSH levels today, and take it from there.” She handed Hope a list of the procedures they were going to do, which included a pelvic ultrasound, a pelvic exam, and a battery of blood tests to check her hormone levels. And they wanted a sperm sample from Finn.
For the next two hours, they ran through all the tests, and he made assorted whispered lewd remarks to Hope about helping him with the sperm sample, but she was in no mood for that. She told him to do it himself, which he did, and appeared with it proudly while they did her ultrasound. The doctor announced with pleasure that Hope was ovulating now, and everything looked good on the ultrasound so far. “You two could go home today and give it a try on your own,” she commented, “although I’d rather do artificial insemination with Mr. O’Neill’s sperm. You could come back and let us do that for you this afternoon, if you like,” she offered, with a helpful glance at Hope.
“I don’t want to do that,” Hope said in a strangled voice. She felt as though suddenly other people were running her life, mostly Finn. And he looked disappointed by what she had just said.
“Maybe we’ll try that next month,” the doctor said blandly, as she removed the ultrasound wand, wiped the gel off Hope’s stomach from the external part of the exam, and told her she could get up. Hope felt drained. She felt as though she were on an express train she hadn’t bought a ticket for, and didn’t want to be on, to a destination she hadn’t chosen in the first place. She had just been reading the travel brochures, and Finn was trying to make the decisions for her, about where they were going and when.
They met with the doctor in her office after all the tests, and she told them that so far everything looked good. They didn’t have Hope’s FSH count and estrogen levels yet, but her eggs looked good on the screen, Finn’s sperm count was high, and she thought that with artificial insemination, they might have a good chance. If that didn’t work in the first two months, they would put Hope on Clomid to release more eggs, which could result in multiple births, the doctor warned her, and if the Clomid hadn’t worked in four months, they would start with in vitro fertilization. And eventually, if necessary, donor eggs. The doctor handed Hope a tube of progesterone cream and told her how to use it every month from ovulation to menstruation, to stimulate implantation and discourage spontaneous abortion. And she told her to see the nurse on the way out for an ovulation predictor kit. By the time they left the office, Hope felt as though she had been shot out of a cannon or drafted into the Marines.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Finn said, smiling broadly at her, delighted with himself when they reached the sidewalk, and Hope burst into tears.
“Don’t you care what I think?” she asked him, sobbing. She didn’t know why, but it had made her feel as though she were betraying Mimi, replacing her with another child, and she wasn’t ready for that either. She couldn’t stop crying as he put his arms around her. And she was still crying when they got into a cab and he gave the driver his address.
“I’m sorry. I thought you’d be happy about it once we talked to her.” He looked crushed.
“I don’t even know if I want a baby, Finn. I already lost a child I loved. I haven’t gotten over it yet, and I don’t know if I ever will. And it’s still too soon for us.”
“We don’t have time to fool around,” he said, pleading with her. He didn’t want to be rude and say that for Hope, at forty-four, time was running out.
“Then maybe we’ll have to be happy with just us,” she said, sounding anguished. “I’m not ready to make that decision yet, in a two-month-old romance.” She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she needed to be sure. Marriage was one thing eventually. But a baby was something else. “You have to listen to me, Finn. This is important.
”
“It’s important to me too. And I want to have our baby, before we lose the chance.”
“Then you need a twenty-five-year-old woman, not someone my age. I’m not going to play Beat the Clock on a decision as important as this. We need time to figure it out.”
“I don’t,” he said stubbornly.
“Well, I do,” she said, sounding increasingly desperate. He was so insistent about it that she was feeling cornered and trying to make him back off. She knew how much he loved her, and she loved him too, but she didn’t want to be pushed.
“I’ve never wanted a baby with anyone before. Even Michael was an accident. That’s why I married his mother. And I want a baby with you,” he said with tears in his eyes as he looked at her in the back of the cab.
“Then you have to give me time to get used to the idea. I felt as though I was being railroaded in that doctor’s office. If we’d let her, she’d have gotten me pregnant today.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me,” he said, as the cab pulled up to his address. And a moment later, Hope followed him inside, looking miserable and shaken. She was exhausted, and felt as though she’d been dragged behind a horse, holding on by her teeth. It had been a draining emotional experience for her. Finn didn’t say anything, and went to pour her a glass of wine. She looked as though she needed it. She started to turn it down, and then thought better of it. She drained it in a few minutes, and he filled it up again, and had a glass himself.
“I’m sorry, darling. I shouldn’t have pushed you into it. I was just so excited by the idea. I’m sorry,” he repeated gently, and kissed her. “Will you forgive me?”
“Maybe,” she said, smiling sadly at him. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience for her, to say the least. He poured her another glass of wine, and she drank that one too. She was seriously upset, but started to calm down after her third glass, and then started crying again, and Finn wrapped her in his arms and took her upstairs. He ran a warm bath for her, and she slipped gratefully into it, and closed her eyes. She lay there for a while, unwinding, trying to push the unpleasant doctor’s visit from her mind. Being in the warm bath helped, and when she opened her eyes again, Finn handed her a glass of champagne and a giant strawberry, and slipped into the bath with her. Hope started to giggle as he unwound his long frame into the bathtub with her, and he had a glass of champagne too.
Matters of the Heart Page 12